Log #1: The waves
14 Dec 2020Immehi
3306.12.13HIP 16914
The directive was simple: "grow this faction."
Best kind of directive, I always say. Simple, succinct and non-restrictive. Many chose the path of glory to accomplish this. Emerging victorious in the battlefield, immortalizing their name in the stars. And then there are others like me. We're not built for the limelight. We're the foot soldier, the sixth man in a five-man team, a cog in the wheel. We move in the background, delivering data, sourcing materials, even spying on a rival.
My preference is layered missions. I carry the rich around the galaxy, and drop off confidential data on my 'fuel stop'. With every trip, I mustered my most pleasant smile for the tourists. Most respond in kind, rare few returned with grunts. It didn't matter to me, they're mere prop for my true mission. Pirates scanned me and leave disappointed. They should have looked beyond the tangibles. The information I carry can bring down a corporation.
Our work are subtle that even our clients often wondered if we had made progress on the contract. They'd start throwing up fuss, until they receive the daily report, when we hear them say "Oh."
Individually, I'm a droplet. Collectively, we are the waves, we rise our clients and sink their enemies on the same motion.