Day 5

Mysteries, mysteries, mysteries. The only word that was repeated in my dreams this night. I loath at the very fact that I let him come to me like this, I mean, he's just an old Barge worker, nothing more. What possible sence could he even make.

Time is now 05:18 and I've just woken up. Sweaty and with my blanket no where to be found, well, it ain't that strange, when it's as hot as a charged mining crystal. After I've waited a couple of good minutes, I began my morning routine and then headed of to the diner. When I arrived, it was as empty as the cargoholds, as if people still slept. I had my morning breakfast and enjoyed it well, as per usual, then headed of to my working quaters. Upon arrival, three men in big dark brown coats with the flotilla-signia on them, stood in the hallway, speaking to my chief. They all looked troubled, especially my chief. I sneaked past them, trying not to get in to the discussion being held, and went to my workspace.

Minutes went to waste, then hours, and the big men in the coats still stood tall and talked with my chief. Then, then abrubtly stoped for no good known reason, and walked slowly towards me. I had the feeling that this could only end in bad mannerd mouths and a day swabbing the decks of the lower floors.

"So, are you C. Vogaenen? Brutor born, and graduated from Industrials Academy?", one of the taller men said with a strong and dark voice

From the looks of it, the tall man was an admiral of the Minmatar Fleet, so I staggering answered, "Y-yes, sir, admiral... Sir."

"Enough with the 'sir' already! We're going to ask you a few questions, and we hope for some good answeres from the source which to rumors are said to be you.", he now said with an more outraged tone of voice, and sort of angered.

Day 6

The path was long, and the halls just seemed endless. It had been some years since I last was on a visit here. People of my kind tend to keep ourselfs out of this section of the ship. The Bridge. The bridge was well-build, and filled with comforting offers for the different people working here. When we entered the room, a couple of Administrators and tacticians stood gathered around a big table with a tactical grid hoovering over it at our right. And on the left, a couple of what seemed as politicians judged by their appearence, stood arguing loud and dramaticly, all wavering with hteir hands in the air. Then, one of the big coated mens' face, shrunk together, as if something bothered him. Suddenly, we stoped, and the second the the largest mans right yelled, "HALT!", and the large man grabed on to my shoulder with such a tight grip, it felt like my shoulder were going to pop out of its joint.

I dared not to look up after the sudden stop and it's followed shoulder crush, but the big coated man grabed hold of my cheek and roughly aimed it up and straight forward. There stood a man, with a bright brown collored coat, but this time in fine leather, wearing great boots who were well pollished. He then hissped quietly and then spoke.

"Well, I've sailed these waters a long time, me boy. And never have 'em failed me, no never once."

He sounded almost sad when speaking, and with a strange accent.

"I was once one of you ye kno'. A hard laboring soul, searching for me place in the world."

Then he stoped, and slowly turned my way, and before me stood a man with crafty cheekbones and big hands, with hair colored grey-green.