It's been a long time since I bothered writing a log. The truth is that in space someone always has a better story.
Betrayal, murder, espionage. All commonplace in the colder corners of space, even the most casual of us are always alert for these events.
As the known universe tries it's hardest to stab itself in the back I've always watched casually, not quite willing to play the game, but always tempted to see if I can do better. So most days I sit in an old reaper frigate, my dreamboat once upon a time, now an obsolete piece of flotsam nowhere near capable of reflecting my skill level.
Nevertheless, I always feel most relaxed in it's small but well designed, 'no-frills', cockpit. I become almost trance-like as I let the random hubbub of the universes communications filter and organise in my augmented brain until the chaos of the universe is almost a song, and it makes some sense. The song is a word, and the word is 'greed'.
'It's a good song', I think with a subtle smile as my second in command hails me with the news that my Maelstrom class Battleship is prepped and ready to fulfill our next contract. A fleet of drones led by some desecrated Gallente hulks is going to see up close what this little Reaper Frigate started all those few years ago...