Diary of a Mad Momma – Entry Two
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"Captain's Log. Entry two.

I'd rather not recap the past, but I guess it will be good to get it all out so I can move on. It's been years since the war that ended in our retreat from Feythabolis. I don't pretend to understand the politics behind what happened. All I know is, the Reds brought bigger guns, and we ran with our tails between our legs like mongrels. Most everything I owned got left behind, and as far as I know is still out there somewhere.

The only possession I had in those days was my ship, Tantrum, and even she was a second-rate rustbucket I picked up on the edge of nullsec. Guy selling her looked like he needed cash in a hurry. I thought I'd taken advantage of him until I saw the ship. By then, he'd already hopped the first shuttle to Metropolis, so I was stuck with her. The corp I worked for fell apart, and then the corp I worked for next also fell apart. Hard times. I had nothing, so in order to survive I had to float a loan. And another one. And another one, until they all called in the debts. The shark took Tantrum in lieu of taking my head, and I left the stars behind.

I met Ned landside. Annoying bastard that he is, I owe him everything. He gave me a job working for one of his company's production plants on the world I had started calling home. I worked my way up the chain, and somehow managed to impress the hell out of them. Record production of something or other, I can't really remember now, and it's not important. What's important is that I found out a few weeks ago that Ned had located my ship and bought her. The rat hid it from me though, waiting to see if I'd measure up enough to earn her back."

A soft snort.

"Apparently I did. And I got my first view of the stars in years this morning. It was an amazing experience. A million pinpoints of light in the sky, beckoning me to join them. I could have cried. Until the red alert went off and some damn Angels locked on and nearly split Tantrum in two. Ahh, pirates. Some things never change."

End recording.


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