Mad John Rackham, as usual, was at the cockpit of his shoddy old Whale. Another Deut run, eyes red with lack of sleep when the message came through on the blinkernet from Doc about Reggie wanting to contact Mal.
"Jeez, Reggie wants to find Mal eh? Fat chance of grabbin' the old bugger unless he wants to be grabbed. But I'll let him know what I can....."
Sweeping the empty coffee cups from the "tactical command" table at the rear of the badly lit cockpit, Rackham grabbed an old fashioned pencil and chewed the end... "I ain't good at this stuff..."
"Dear Reggie,
About Mal... We thought he was dead mate...honest... but I reckon I seen him on Gran Canaria and Freeport 9 and later in some strange dreams. He looked tired and jaded with vacant, dull eyes, and when I approahed him he muttered about being in deep Chaos, something beyond the disordinary TAZ experience. A strange pendant hung around his neck and he mentioned a dislike of Starbucks and someone called Tim Horton, but he said that all depended on meditation and balance of Chao.
I believe I can help find him physically.... But maybe it needs someone like yerself to make real, inner contact to shake him out of it.
![[Image: HTp8xpY.png]](https://i.imgur.com/HTp8xpY.png)