Logbook entry

Tarm Wallunga / 10 Oct 3304
Glittering Aside...

Pock mark bumped his gums over the holo-comms, but I'm barely listening. What I do know is that there's a beer bottle chilling on my desk, and it's almost empty. A grumble makes waves somewhere in the back of my throat as I reach for the beer. "Whatever," he mutter and kill the comms. Pock-mark - I'm sure his real name is Thomas...or John....fuck I don't know what his name is; I don't care either, just some dockhand that I know we have in our pocket for things like this - fades before the beer does, and my empty hand taps out some numbers on the comms panel.

"Yeah, boss," the eerily silky smooth voice speaks even as the owner's face materializes where Pock-mark was a moment ago. Blonde hair, synthetic tan eyes, and a smirk that dares to challenge my own ego poofs into the now centimeters away from my face.

"Slooter's called in," I answer, standing up to retrieve a fresh drink from the fridge. "You're up."

The hologram of the Digimanus supplicant bobbed as Sigured nodded curtly. "Whats the play, then?" he asked. "Shadow? Or something..."

I cut him off as I crack the top of beer number...eh... six? Seven? Fuck...not the point. "Shadow," I answer. "I don't wnat her knowing you're there either. Let her take the lead on whatever happens; this is her test, remember?"

"Like Luther and the boy?" Sigurd asked with some darkness in his word choice.

I scowl as I sit back down behind my desk, and I make sure Sigurd sees it, too. "We're not talking about Luther, ass-hat. I'm talking about you and Tauslah," I growl.

"Right," he replied to me. "Shadow her, let take the lead."

"You got it," I confirm as I start to move to killing the call. "Wait," I say, stopping mid-motion.

"What's up?"

"Don't let her die," I begin, "but if she bumps against the Omega's, she's on her own. I'm not pissing them off and she doesn't even have rockers."

"Serious?"

I shrug as I very briefly reconsider, then speak again. He has a point in that stupid tone of voice of his. "Don't let her run into them. They'll chew her up and spit her out."

"Valid."

"Also..." I trail off. I know better than this, I really do, but I need to make sure Sigurd has all the pertinents before he heads out. "The fesh isn't for the Omega's either. It's for some third party; I don't know the details, and I don't care. But remember, Claire belongs to the Omega's and they're likely to be tapped out right now after their little war with Marra. And by tapped out," I smirk coldly, remembering a time when I flew with the twin skulls on my own shoulder, "I mean they're gonna be paranoid as a devil worshipper in Sunday mass."

"I got you boss," Sigurd said after chewing on my words. "Shadow, keep her alive, and keep her from the Omega's. Let her lead."

"Yup," I mutter, and kill the convo before Sigurd can pressure me about Luther again. Then I drain the beer without coming up for air.
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