Captain's Log, Tautarus
Merchant Captain Takash Kurit
Sovetskii Soyuz class Transport
Registry GH∆ç#58siu8§Ω◊

Terran Standard Time 0817.09.10.1198
     First entry since the electrical system  malfunctioned and purged all log entries.  Cause of the system anomaly is currently unknown.  The ship is currently enroute to Adonis for repairs; recompense for lost goods and settling of claims will surely ensue.  The cargo hold of the ship is still in vacuum - I don't know if any goods are still there or if all is lost to the wastes of space.  I know some of what is on my manifest is biological and should be safe in the environmental containers but chance damage could have broken those seals.  Not much I can do about such until I limp my ship into dock.  
     If I actually had a crew, I could have delegated people to EVA and check the hull and bays for purposes of repair and inventory.  Since I am the only one manning this small cargo ship, it would be foolhardy of me to try to assess such on a damaged craft.  There is nothing for me to do other than ensure the ship makes an unimpeded journey to the closest port. 
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Terran Standard Time 0700.10.10.1198
      Adonis!  A world still being terraformed and in need of many things but willing to barter for all the essentials.  I have commodities of industrial water, Nokia machine tools and KneKrupp foodstuffs which I can exchange for the attentions of some shipwrights.  I really wanted to turn a profit on those items at Port Krane but this is indeed an emergency .  The repairs will likely be costly, but scarcity of goods on this outback world should work to my advantage.  At least that is my hope.  I have been tracked by the port authority and am now being given a landing procedure .
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Terran Standard Time 2207.10.10.1198
     I managed to convince a pair of ex-Terran Navy engineers to perform the desired work for half what I expected to lose on this run.  Only one third of my cargo was lost and none of the contracted items.  The machining tools were of great import.  A station dome collapse on Adonis had destroyed much equipment in use for its construction - no new tools were expected for a week.  The project leader had to pay dearly for my stock, thus a good profit to me.  I've also recieved contract to bring two recruiters to Quinn's Station as well as ten tons of ore to be transferred to Ceres Heavy Metals.
     Quinn's Station should be a good point for news and contacts, plus it puts me under the umbrella of Gentleman Monty's boys.  Too bad that my runs there have the narrowest profits out of them all; price to be paid for a trader's paradise.  It is autonomous, stable and has firmly reigned in criminal activities on station therefore every trader has made it a stopping point on their journey.  That means that just about every good within three weeks distance can be had there, but the middleman has already bumped up the price and any commodities brought in are not worth as much because of the high supply against any demand.
     The only real profits at that port are safety, legal contracts and a wealth of news.  If any of those underpinnings went away then it is likely the independent traders would gravitate to more profitable routes.  Considering what I observed at the station, as elsewhere here on the fringes, that accounts for more than two thirds of all traffic.  In a way, the station needs us independents more than we need it.  Too bad we cannot gain consensus to use that kind of clout.
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Terran Standard Time 0900.16.10.1198
     Docked: Space Station Quinn.
     Lilliana Yellowhorse, a career dockworker and longtime friend, has given me a rundown on what is going through the docks under the watchful gaze of Jebediah Powers, the Dockmaster.  It is largely mundane trde gossip, but always potentially profitable.  Never overlook a detail, no matter how boring.  Words that have kept me alive more times than once.

   My relationship with Lily has always been based on business, but she is worth every note of legal tender I give her and more.  It seems there has been an upswing of non-Terran craft docking here and Montigue Foreman's operatives have become increasingly distanced from the station.  Whether this is just coincidence or some sort of shift is for me to deduce.
    Lily also seems to be interested with my new pet, Drip.  The Bowman's Snake was an interesting biological that I picked up a few worlds back.  It has proven to be a loyal creature... and far more intelligent than the indig let on.
     Though our conversations always begin in the loading dock, they always end up at the local watering hole; whether it began by accident or intent, I don't think either one of us knows any longer.  It is just something we do.  Still, it is just a break for her in her day and she is heading back to her work.  She did leave me with one other piece of news: there is a new sheriff on station.  I should go meet him.
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Terran Standard Time 1552.16.10.1198
     There is a malaise coursing through this station and it is about to consume this entire sector.  I have been aware of the iron grip of authority over this port and the omniscient presence of the security forces that bring to heel such criminal groups as Monty's boys.  It has since slipped away.  I was no sooner digging for new contracts than I was accosted by an agitator who has since embroiled me into a political conspiracy and I have since born witness to the abuses inside the security branch.  Drip has felt the same entropic tug of chaos hovering about the space harbor. Barely had to finish my drink and my thoughts after Lily left Gander Shea's bar when an "agent" of the Regency of the Morning Star sidled up beside me and began a conversation based upon blackmail with me.  He then proceeded, before God and everyone, to detail his desire for me to assassinate a Terran visitor. 
     I could only gape at the sheer idiocy of this fool.  Was this person so unaware of the reputation of the stations vaunted security measures as to possibly preclude from his thinking that there are surveillance electronics likely to be implanted in most public access points and thoroughfares?  I had to coach him to keep the drek from falling down on us right then and there.  This ham-handed repo-man was too inept to keep from publicly implicating me in any mishaps for the future. 
     He bade me to murder the Terran, Tobias Huxley, and to keep the involvement from coming back to the doorstep of Lucifer 6.  Otherwise, my ship would be taken by him.  I get the feeling that my health would not be unaffected in the mean time.  His documents show he has legal authority to reposess my ship as it turns out to have been stolen and sold to me under false pretenses.  Since Tort laws support the original claimant and allow for no protections of any other innocent parties, this leaves me without any legal recourse... if this man is legitimate.  I played his game and bid him farewell.
     I had to know if I was being conned, so my next stop was the constabulary, where I walked into a firefight.  Or rather, the sheriff was shooting a whole lot and shouting "he's mine".  I discovered the target was a notorious outlaw by the name of Max Kryer, aka MK Blade.  Though my view was obstructed by a deputy trying to block the entrance and the rather large piece of metal bulkhead I took cover behind, to avoid being accidentally shot,  I could still see and hear enough to deduce what had been going on inside.  After the deputies got a hold of Max Kryer and subdued him, the sheriff proceeded to beat this man already arrested.
     It is after this disturbing display that I was granted an interview with sheriff Kryer; I knew I could not trust this individual of dubious character.  Right there in the office, I came up with a solution: to play off the sheriff against the provacatuer until I can arrange the elimination of both.  I dropped vague clues to the sheriff to get him on a wild goose chase after Artemis Kane but Drip decided to be more direct.  Drip has been helpful in the past few weeks; maybe this would pan out.  I let it slide.
     For his part, the sheriff confirmed the legality of Artemis Kane as far as registering his reposession activities.  I thanked Mr. Kryer for his time and left the security center.  As I left, I gauged the mood of the peace officers and staff currently in the office.  Shaken and nervous with a few hushed whispers where as previous visits showed a more bold and confident under former sheriff Van Cleef.  Not a good sign.

     My next stop was to the Port Authority.  Old Jeb Powers was always useful for innocuous information, so I brought him a good gift to loosen his tongue about comings and goings.  The Terran was here already.  And a juicy fact about the sheriff's drinking problem.  Even upon learning of three guards for the attaché, I surmised it would be easy to eliminate him if I had to.  Drip let out another few choice bits of information; the relevance to reward did not make it worthy of risk but the portmaster didn't catch on to the import of my pet's words.
  A few more social trips around station and my plan was set into motion.  The sheriff was seen many times drinking at a favorite spot and he was a relative unknown.  Though it can be traced back to me, I have started the rumor mill about the seriff's drinking problem with the high hopes that those few seeds will reach full bloom when the rest of my plan reaches fruition.  I have set a date to meet with Thomasina Quinn.  I must remember to get in touch with my Monty contact, Luigi.  Perhaps after the meeting.
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Terran Standard Time 2300.16.10.1198
     That creature!  I thought it rational and sentient before but now I'm sure it's brain has rotted.  I had an audience with Miss Quinn, sat at the table to the head of the station and was spinning my plans more elaborately when that... thing couldn't keep its mouth shut!  I should have recognized those earlier outbursts as encroaching retardation, but to undermine my credibility in front of Thomasina Quinn nearly undid us both.  To head off those damaging indicretions, I was forced to lay all my cards on the table and it was only through such a bold display and by virtue of charming statesmanship was I able to garner a few scraps of concessions.  Not enough for my next step.  How blithely it prattled unaware of the danger it exposed the both of us to.
     Some may consider my next act cruel but I beat that snake against the wall as soon as I was back in the ship.  I made sure it recognized my wrath and then spelled out what it had done wrong.  Only after it was cowed mewling into a corner did I leave it.  I had no time to deal with the Bowman's Snake.  My plans required things to proceed apace and there was not minutes enough to deal with idiot pets.
     I have to talk to Luigi.  I was hoping on trading favors from Quinn to Luigi to help me with my agenda but now I must go to him empty handed.  I may be able to get nothing more than an assurance, but if it pulls our shells from the smelter it'll be worthwhile, though costly.  Damn you, Drip!
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Terran Standard Time 1120.17.10.1198
     It was worse than I predicted.  I owe Luigi and that means I owe Monty.  It was bad enough that they extorted me but now I owe them.  I'm in their pocket.  This is untenable.  I must sever my ties to the ship and reclaim what I can for something new.  I might have enough for another Soyuz but I have to sell the ship on the DL.  I know such a hawker: Harrold.  He is trustworthy as far as a business dealings go, but not much beyond that.
     Though I do hope for the best in this transaction, I should be realistic about my chances to recoup my losses and liquidate my remaining assets.  Chances are it will be a few years before I can afford a new Soyuz craft.  Still, a station like Quinn's will have various craft available from retiring captains or salvage vessels claimed by "finders" and/or pirates which will be pawned for money  I remember seeing a "wing" of Neodyne Starscreamer Lumods making for a docking bay in the wake of an obsolete Terran Gaurdian frigate (often the old hulks of these ships have been taken over and converted by pirates and used to board unsuspecting commercial liners).  One of those should be in my price range though both comfortability and cargo capacity will be diminished compared to the Soyuz.
     But this is purely speculation, I must go see Harrold before I can plan any further than this.
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Personal Log, Palm Pilot MCV
Terran Standard Time 2300.17.10.1198     
      I never thought it could do such a thing but Drip is able to shuttle between animals & people.  Damn him... it.  Something so useful and it didn't tell me.

     It had taken control of Harry, then Drip used Harry to tell Artemis that I wasn't going to go through with the assassination and thus forfeit my ship.  That vegetable believed him!  Without even checking with me!  But I already knew that patsy was braindead.  When Artemis confronted me in the hall with a pair of bully-boys, I surmised something changed.  The drekhead informed me of my own decision and how much he regrets that I changed my mind.  Before he could commence to assault me, I made good on my ability to talk my hide out of the coming beating and leave Mr. Kane bewildered at his own stupid mistakes.  I think he was still dumbly looking at the security camera I pointed out to him as I walked away.  Though I could have brought him up on charges based upon what the security system recorded, I had a more pressing problem.
     Drip, was suicidal!  He was trying to destroy me, which would only destroying itself by our pact.  How could Drip have forgotten, my rise was going to be of benefit to Drip for as long as he was useful to me.  He had outlasted his use.  I had cornered him as Harry with Luigi's boys to witness and was going to end it.  This was when Drip made a final bid for survival.
     Drip is now in me; I couldn't have planned it better.  Drip both hates me and is afraid but I don't give a damn about that.  He will get hungry here and I won't care.  I've already felt him tug at me but he is weak from his ordeal.  He will tell me all the answers I need in time.
     As for now, Luigi is one man short.  Something real big is going down tomorrow, the target time for the assassination.  I can feel the tension on the station building to a crescendo.  It happens tomorrow and I'll be there for it.
     Thank you, Drip.  You've given me a winning hand by trying to be my adversary.

Personal Log , Palm Pilot MCV
Terran Standard Time 0730.18.10.1198
    Luigi has agreed with my assessment: he needs a man he can trust to fill the void where two men are absent and I need an advantage.  He can trust me to do right by him as I have very little choice now - the position of a desperate man.  At least that is the image I'm trying to convey.
      I can broker what I learn now into favors for the future.  Everything seems to be culminating to a boiling point, the flash prior to the ignition, and it will happen now.  I have not learned anything useful nor am I until we are already in up to our necks; the last ruse necessary to maintain loyalty and insure nothing is leaked prior to ... whatever is going to happen.
      It is still trying to reason with me.  Drip.  Curious, I asked why it did what it had done in clear violation of our agreement.  The answer astounded me.  It was petulant about its punishment, a punishment it deserved, and proceeded to tell me that I was letting things slip away.  So clever a creature and yet so brain dead.  I told it that my dealings were now my own, but it could still get back in my good graces.  It wanted power quickly, I gave it a very basic understanding of what happens to those that sieze a great power quickly - they tend to be incinerated by that power in short order.  Though it bridles at the tight reigns I give it, it now understands that there are slow moves to gaining and keeping great power.  Yes there are some fast moves but careful choices of those opportunities must be considered lest such a thing be done to an end of self in an ill-advised foray.
      I know not what the next hour will bring.
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Personal Log, Palm Pilot MCV
Terran Standard Time 2122.18.10.1198
      Fortune has been with me this day.  Monty's boyz had done two major blows timed well.  One was to crush a renegade band of rogues which were on his turf.  More on them later.

     Montigue Foreman had been gathering his men together from far-flung ports o' call and assembled a privateer armada.  Almost all of his men were located on station and we were to capture a juicy prize at a set of coordinates to be announced when we were away.  We were given ship assignments and were equipped for boarding actions.  There were so many pilots, pirates, thugs and enforcers here that what we were after had to have been huge.
     We no sooner left our briefing point to enter the hangar when we came under immediate fire.  We were totally unprepared for this assault and several of Monty's boys fell before anyone could even draw a weapon.  A smaller group of bandits wre in the hangar and engaging in a bitter fire-fight.  They were being led by none other than the Blade himself.
      Though I was armed for battle, this was too deadly a situation to even pretend I could stay put and shoot it out.  Already security forces had already shown up in the launch bay and were firing indiscriminately at anyone wielding a weapon without a badge.  Some pilots were already starting up their ships when I made a dash for a nearby ramp.  Though I had to leap for the access way as it was closing I still managed to board the ship.
      No sooner than I was aboard the unfamiliar vessel than I heard the engines roar to life and the tug of inertia as the ship began to move.  I made my way to the bridge to find the pilot sluggishly activating the controls to get us out of there.  It was only after I told the pilot to let me fly and I took in the control features did I realize what kind of ship I was in.  Somehow, during the gun battle, I didn't realize this ship was even in the hangar.  I had always dreamed of being in control of a Starbridge.  These ships are beautiful, sleek, fast, manueverable and generally illegal for those not with the terran licenses.  This is due to the paramilitary security and weaponry suites on board; not to mention that with the powerplants this ship was designed with and the space in it's hull, modifications could make it a formidable military vessel.  Indeed, I dreamed of a Starbridge - an A or B production run.  In the battle, in that ship, I knew I was running a very select craft throught its paces: a Starbridge E.
      This was indeed a very special vessel, with a very special cargo: Matilda Foreman, Montigue Foreman's little girl, was the pilot I told to get out of my way.  Monty spared nothing to give her every advantage to survive in what was decidedly a one-sided fight.  Two jumps distant from Quinn Station was a terran convoy fleet burning in space.  Raider ships and Terran escorts were exchanging blazing lances of energy fire.  Between the frigate and corvette class ships zipped interceptor fighters, bulky gunships, and sleek attack jets.  The surprise is that both groups treated us as their reinforcements. 
     I was wondering what Monty was doing with a privateer fleet and armed civilian racers. 
     The fire fight allowed me to board her ship in the confusion, which was a good thing as no other crew were able to get aboard when Matilda started taking the ship out to make the rendezvous.  The Starbridge is normally a four crewman ship but as a war vessel it requires seven personnel: pilot, fire controlman, radar intercept technician, navigator, EW/ECW technician and two engineers.  Needless to say we were busy when things did get hot; jumping stations as the situation warranted and generally shouting at each other as things changed and a new adversary decided to make an attack or orders needed to be conveyed to the other privateers.
     It was during this excitement that I took the opportunity which presented itself.  I may be insane for trusting Drip, but I commanded it to jump to Matilda.  She was not even aware as of yet that Drip was in her though anyone that looked at her would see the face paint - that curious facepaint which marked Drip's presence.  The rest of Monty's boys were joyously celebrating the capture and transfer of equipment from the huge cargo vessels to their own privateers - I was celebrating something far more beneficial than illegally gotten coin.
      We had arrived back at the port where carnage and chaos had reigned hours earlier.  Max Kryer, the Blade, had made his bold bid to destroy Monty's power and sieze control of operations from monty's gang.  Devlin Kryer, the sherriff was with him in that final bid.  Station security forces, automated defenses, gangsters and the occassional smuggler turned the docking bays into a warzone.  Fully one out of five of Monty's boys didn't make it out of the hangars and many more were killed in the attack on the convoy.  I figure for every seven men left alive to Monty there are three dead or wounded.  The Blade is dead.  Monty's only real rival in this sector is now no more.  His men, the remainder, have scattered and will probably never show their faces on the station again.  I have heard that Devlin was captured.  I knew that one was a bad egg; maybe I'll yet see him swing.  
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Images and pictures, used without permission, are copyrighted and owned by thier creators/companies.  All images of ships sre taken from the game Escape Velocity: Nova which is produced by Ambrosia Software .  All images of robots and people are screen shots from Knights of the Old Republic which is produced by BioWare Corporation .