Cmdr Maul Montresor
Role
Hacker / Freelancer
Registered ship name
Desumashin
Credit balance
-
Rank
Pioneer
Registered ship ID
Imperial Courier MA-21E
Overall assets
-
Squadron
Imperial Deathwatch
Allegiance
Independent
Power
Yuri Grom

Logbook entry

THE UNSEEN EYE PART THREE: SPANNER IN THE WORKS

10 Sep 2021Maul Montresor
Continued from Impartial Observer

"Alright, you can do this." Maul said to himself between deep breaths.

He was sitting on the stain soaked couch of his studio apartment; hunched over in an exhaustive but almost meditative state. The lights scattered around the apartment were dim but were gradually getting brighter.

Maul opened his eyes. His hands were now in praying position under his nose. With one last exhale he began slowly reaching down towards the laser pistol laying on the coffee table in front of him. The lights still growing brighter until...

"GO!" Shouted a voice over the speakers in the corners of the room.

Maul grasped the now visibly plastic looking pistol firmly and quickly rose to his feet while glancing around the room. Just then, a target materialized over top of the counter that separated the living room from his kitchen. Maul shifted his body and fired two shots at the target. Two red hologram streams of light traveled towards the target; with the second one successfully striking the hologram target and blowing into pieces. Maul spins on his heel as he surveys the room for another target.

"There you are." He mutters under his breath as he tightens his grip on the plastic pistol.

Another target materialized over his bed and was floating towards him. This target was human shaped and would eventually start firing back. Maul scurried towards the kitchen and ducked behind the counter to take cover.

"Help!" Another voice came across the speakers.

Maul peeked over the counter and sure enough, another target materialized and was holding a hostage at gunpoint. This was going to be a tricky shot but the enemy targets were closing in and a decision had to be made. Maul shifted the ball of his foot around as if to dig in to position before suddenly springboarding himself sideways out from behind the counter. He fired wildly at hostage-less target; finally destroying it after a handful of missed shots. He fumbled around in an attempt to get to his feet in time to save the hologram hostage. After knocking over a broom and dustpan, which appeared to have never been touched; he slowly lined up the shot. The target hitbox was small, just the head slightly poking out from around the hostage. Maul's finger trembled on the trigger as he readied the shot.

"GAME OVER!" Came the familiar announcers voice.

"What!?" Maul shouted in protest as he shrugged and looked around the room.

Sure enough another enemy had materialized behind him and had shot him first; bringing the round to an end.

"Bullshit spawns." Maul grumbled. throwing the plastic pistol onto the couch. "It's been months and the devs still haven't sorted this out."

Maul huffed and he puffed and he eventually settled down on the couch with his slate in hand.

"No new messages. Figures." He said to himself.

It had been months...a year...maybe since Maul had any sort of real interaction with people. That, and his old group of "anonymous tech enthusiast" pals had mostly disbanded. Leaving him with only one contact from the old days. All of this meant that there was very little work coming through.

Maul discarded the slate onto the couch and moved to the computer. He had been keeping tabs on some of his associates without their permission. Particularly the ones he considered to be friends.

After a few keystrokes a social media page of a woman named "Vega Sonders" appeared on screen causing Maul to crack a small smile. The page had been cleared of all other personal information and posts. Just an image and a name; that much was still there for Maul's sake.

He cleared his throat and moved on.

A few more keystrokes and Maul was looking at the flight list of his old associate Lambast's company; "Lambaconda Cruise Liners". He'd done work for her before and installed a backdoor into the companies system without her noticing. Law breaking aside, it was nice to see that her business was still thriving and that she was back at work again.

"Oh, she's on a flight right now." Maul said as he navigated to the name of the individual that booked the flight.

"...Orwell Vandeman..." Maul, being the ever nosy hacker, decided to research him.

A quick search of the name brought up mentions of some sort of cult. Not too strange considering the rising popularity of worship for odd things in the galaxy. What was strange though, is the fact that he seemed to have been associated with multiple cults before this one.

He was the sole survivor of the first cult he was in. The rest of the members died in a mass suicide by removing their helmets while planetside with no oxygen to prove themselves worthy to the Gods. Security reports say that Orwell claimed that he was only there because his girlfriend at the time was involved with the cult. He supposedly tried to save her but failed to do so.

The second time around he himself was at the reigns as the cult leader. This time he was arrested for the premeditated murder of a local politician in the system his cult was based out of. He served a few months in a detention center only to escape during a riot.

Maul's eyes widened at the realization of the true insanity of this man. He needed to warn Lamb. Quickly, he navigated to a new screen and tried reaching out to Lamb through her ships comms; only to have his calls disconnect immediately.

"Fuckin hell. They're blocking incoming calls." Maul said as he glanced at the flight details on his other screen, looking for anything informative.

He noticed the ship she was using "LCC-22" "Shit, she's using a newer ship. I didn't have a chance to upgrade it's systems." Hacking the ships systems remotely was out of the question.

Maul placed his head in his hands and tried to think but time wasn't on his side. He took a screengrab of the flight details and sent them to his slate and started gathering the essentials into his hardshell backpack and hurried out the door.

Continued in Breaking The Cycle
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