To Fight for a Country that Hates You... (Tigre-Family Stories: First Generation)

[Mr.Fabulous]

::::: Journal Unit J-01-P0025 Activated :::::
::::: Audio/Video/Date-Time/Locator/Encryption ::::: on/on/off/off/off
::::: Profile: Casini Peneleaus Chrisostomo :::::
::::: Entry - 11 ::::::
::::: Beginning Entry Recording :::::

The image of a face of a woman in her mid-20's appears on the screen. She wore this black jumpsuit, and her green eyes expressed triumphant joy, "Oh! I can see myself! It's working like a charm, señor Leon! Thank you so much for your aid."

The monotonous, ice-cold reply of a man could be heard in the background, his face apparently hidden from view of the camera, "Acknowledged. The input device didn't fit well into the Journal's unit-slot, at first. Attaching the thing served some degree of tediousness. But with the modifications I welded into the camera, I'm certain it'll work just fine."

The woman turns to her right, as if replying back to the man, "What kind of modifications did you install?"

"Nothing too significant... A reattachment of the connector to one that was more suited to your unit-slot, and a few adjustments on the default settings of the devices' programming should limit the capabilities of the camera slightly, but they'd be too little to be of any noticeable impact. Suffice to say, I mostly adapted the input device's external hardware, with only the programming altered to fit the changes." He lectured.

"Well, at least I've got video-input now." She turns back to face the viewscreen, "... Better than nothing, si? But I still need a Universal-Positioning-Tracker, a Digi-Chronological Time-Piece, and a Data-Encrypter."

"A tall order, especially the last one... The first two, though, shouldn't be too hard to find. Probably, they sell those things at Mainz, but as for the Data-Encrypter if you're looking for quality we... that is, you, might just have to ask the Rheinland Military for one."

The woman rolls her eyes, "... What're the chances those muchachos would even think about giving a random Freelancer one of their Encrypters? No, I'll just have to create the device, and its programming, myself."

"Agreed... and I suppose you'd like to enjoy your new updates now? If you need anything else, I'll be available on-call. I'm going around the hotel for a walk, maybe grab a snack or so."

"Another daydreaming-venture? Fine, suit yourself." Footsteps could be heard within the vicinity, and for a moment the image of a man wearing a brown trench-coat lined with lots of zippers and pockets, dark brown cargo pants and black combat boots passes by the viewscreen, his back turned to the camera so as his front was not to be seen as he slid open the door and closed it as he went out.





The woman scratches her chin, "... Now where was I...? Oh right, today's 17 January, 819 A.S., time's at 2257-hours... NOW with some video, huhuhuh... Almost more than two weeks of searching around the place, and we even got to find his office, but we came across with very little evidence as to his new whereabouts... up until now."

She closes her eyes as she heaves in a deep breath, before releasing it and opening her eyes again and beginning in a formal tone, "We met a certain dealer who, although reluctant at first to give up what he knew until we compensated him, gave us his hunch as to where Argus might've headed off to next.

"Apparently, the story went that the man had just finished another dealing with the gofer, and was about to exit the meeting place when he heard Argus' PDA ring out. He eavesdropped on the loud conversation, and heard that the man was to be... transfered... to Planet Holstein, by his superiors. Actually, I think 'transfered''s too kind of a term for how the talk allegedly-went, which was more like deported from his current office, and then kicked to Planet Holstein. Serves the idiota right.

"Unfortunately, that's as far as we got from the dealer... Well, other than the fact he was going to now serve as his superior's spokesman towards the Bundschuch, so si... Our guess is the Budschuch might have some of the answers we seek, but obviously such an approach should be aired with extreme caution... and considering they are one of the Hessians' allies, and would most likely look at Corsairs, let alone myself, in a bad light, probably my compadre would be more suited in talking with the infidels than I."

"So basically, after we pack our things and finalize everything tomorrow we'll be heading off to Planet Holstein. Thankfully, with only several settlements currently running in the Planet, and hopefully, with a little persuasion from the Bundschuch we might just be able to isolate where Argus' current office is located, si?"





She takes in another breath, and her tone gets a bit lighter, "As for my compadre? I'm already getting the hang of mitigating my usage of the specific episode-triggering curse-words, and as a result he's had a reduction of his daydreaming-rate by a remarkable 10%.

"Now, such a number would sound trivial at first glance, but you've got to understand that his episodes sometimes occur at 30-minute intervals! INTERVALS, ay carumba! On average before I started to have some self-control, I'd get around 1-2 episodes every hour that passes! Now it's only down to 1 every hour or two, so si... quite a noticeable improvement, if I do say so myself!"

She pauses for a moment before continuing, "... Speaking of which, I have my compadre to thank for fixing up my journal. Seems he's had some experience in dealing with this type of problem, since he finished the adjustments in a few minutes. I also sometimes still find it hard to comprehend how he manages to fit all the tools he needs within those trench-coat pockets of his: he's got a whole toolbox's-worth of tools, a fusion-cutter and many other stuff in addition to his pistol... He even has a moisture-condenser and a water purifier tucked into one of the outer pockets in the case we run out of water!" She says in disbelief.

"I asked him why he practically carries his whole house with him, and he told me that, back in his Estate, every month he used to go on these week-long trips he calls 'Estate-Expeditions'. He did these trips mainly for the sake of exploring it, describing it to be quite large, and then come back with scrap components he'd use at his own discretion. Before he adopted his dearly-beloved Mila into his family he went off alone on these trips, so on those days he'd have to carry a lot of tools, equipment and supplies, and in the process he decided to create his own tools and equipment with his own miniaturization techniques."

She beams an impressed grin at the monitor, "Heh... makes me wonder just what kind of adventures the señor had in his day, and how he utilized the various toys he carries around with him all the time. AND surprisingly, no episode emerged during his explanations... Must've been great memories to have not sent him into a state of despair... Well, maybe a pause, but he was smiling... if you could call a slight wobble on the lips a smile, so that doesn't count as an episode."





She lets out this long, low yawn, "... I'm sure the señor's got a lot of other stories to tell, but for now, I need some sleep... It's been a long day, and we've got a lot of preparations to do first thing in the morning.

"... This is Casini Peneleaus dela Chrisostomo... signing off..."





::::: Ending Entry Recording :::::
::::: Entry 11 Concluded :::::
::::: Log Off? [Y/N] :::::
::::: Logging off :::::
::::: Saving Settings :::::
::::: Journal Unit J-01-P0025 Shutting Down :::::

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