Log 048

Log 048

-Author: Rinas Rylos
-Rank: C.E.O.
-Corporation: Rinas' Raiders (R.R.A.S.)
-Date: 115.08.14

 So...guess who got to meet their bastard of a father yesterday? Yeah. Before I go into that, though? Cars. And support. Some things that need to be said about both.

Vehicles are...tricky. Can't live with 'em, can't seem to get them to drive over your anti-armor explosives. Not unless they're about to run you over, anyway. Admittedly, I've never been the greatest driver, so anything going faster than a tank tends to leave me internally screaming obscenities as I desperately try not to plow into either the environment. With this said, I generally don't spend too much on things with wheels, treads, or that can fly, outside of training to ensure I can use the guns mounted on them to a decent degree. I'll leave driving to the drivers, and I'll be the gal that throws down explosives and runs around with a goddamned swarm launcher to nail tanks in the back.

Speaking of shit people can't do, it's almost beginning to seem like the idea of support is somewhat disappearing amongst the masses at this point. Not sure if the major corps still have the brains to dedicate the occasional person to repairing armor and keeping everyone alive in their own private wars, but in public contracts? Forget about it. The whole sad affair isn't just when it comes to repair either; It's seriously been fucking disappointing how many war points I've managed to gain in my last few contracts with just the simple act of laying down a drop uplink, or hitting the battlefield with one of my load-outs that carries a nanite injector. These are not difficult items to utilize, people! A nanite field to replenish ammo or armor can take you so much further than just equipping yourself purely for battle! And with barely an increase to your suit's costs as well! It's fucking baffling how these people never seem to get it into their heads to lay down an uplink once in a while, or at least carry around a revival injector with them.

So I know I spent a decent part of my last log detailing why the empires were underestimating capsuleers and how they needed to get with the times, and how I shouldn't type cast them, understanding a pivotal notion necessary to adapt and survive in New Eden, blah blah blah. I know I said all that, but there was something about the idea of coming face to face with the son of a bitch that ran out on Mom and the rest of us that left me feeling a mixture of rage and emptiness, and I don't mean the pissy little kid rage either; This was the sort of anger that flows throughout the rest of you rather than just residing within your chest. The kind of anger that provides you with a purpose rather than merely leaving you swinging blindly at whatever comes into range. I spent almost the entirety of my fucking trip daydreaming about what I'd do to him, along with some idle wondering about how much I'd have to pay to get off for whatever I'd do to him. From customs to the ship to the shuttle to the restaurant where we decided to meet, all I could focus on was getting back at him for those long fucking years of trying to get by, left alone to keep my siblings alive while the son of a bitch went out and did whatever the fuck he wanted.

As I finally approached the cheap little place he'd decided we should meet at, I could feel my chest swell with each step, a combination of apprehension and uncertainty filling me like some kind of fucked up balloon until I finally entered the joint. It didn't take me long to spot him sitting alone in the corner, head down, like someone who was trying not to be noticeable and actually having it backfire because of it. As I began to walk over to his table, it felt as though the closer I got, the more and more aware of myself I became. From the looseness of my civilian clothes, to the heaviness of my hands and feet, and just when had my mouth turned dry? By the time I finally sat down opposite of him, I felt more aware of my body than I had in years, and despite every brain cell I had telling me that now was the time to unleash myself on the drunken bastard...I couldn't.

As much as I wanted to unleash every ounce of hatred I had for the prick, as much as I wanted to scream at him until my vocal cords snapped, I just couldn't. I looked him over as he gave me a what presumably would've been toothy smile if he'd still had all of his, and I realized that the man I'd spent years turning into a symbol of everything wrong with my life was just that; Another man. One that had screwed my family over badly, yes, but his appearance said that karma had fucked him over harder than I ever could have. From the patchwork coat covering what looked like grim-covered shirt, to the ratty beanie covering his head, to the pair of destroyed jeans that looked as though rabid animals had eaten off half of them. More than anything his clothes could say, though, was his eyes; There was...I'm not sure how to describe it. A dead look? A lack of life? I'm not sure, but I hadn't seen eyes like that since Chime had decided to come back to the world of the living. They were the mark of someone who felt dead inside, and with them it was pretty clear that what he'd had so long ago has abandoned him as surely as he'd left us.

Not long after I sat down, he began to prattle on about how big I'd grown, how much he'd missed me, and all sorts of other lies. He prattled on for a while, but the whole realization that life had dealt him what was most likely even a shittier hand than mine had left me feeling confused inside, and I don't think I did much more other than give a nod as I tuned him out. I knew that everything I'd planned on the way there was pointless; What would screaming at him accomplish more than what he'd been through?  No. I...as much as I still wanted to, I couldn't. God fucking help me, I know he deserved it, but I couldn't let myself sink low enough to scream at a guy that looked essentially homeless, much less one that was kind of the reason I existed.

So what did I do? Mostly I just sat and waited out his spiel, though I did order a drink halfway through. If nothing else, I have to give him credit for preparation, given he took up roughly a good ten minutes trying to flatter me before spending another ten going through a bunch of pleas and begging and other bullshit. Honestly, I ignored most of it, instead mentally pitting my current situation against his and realizing how much I'd lucked out. If I hadn't been chosen for whatever reason to become a merc, then I'd either be in prison or just flat out dead. But I had been picked, and while life hadn't miraculously gotten better afterwards, it was...improved, for lack of a better word. If nothing else, I didn't have to worry about providing for the kids or my brother, and I was personally rendered fucking immortal. I don't remember the state he was in the last time I saw him, but I'd have bet that shit had been on a bit of a downward spiral for him too, the only difference being that there hadn't been a second chance. No redemption for him, as opposed to my sorry hide that arguably lucked out with the whole mercenary deal. So I suppose if I was lucky enough to get a second chance, shouldn't I provide one? Or did he deserve to suffer even more after the hell he'd put me and mine through? That...that was a hard choice for me, for a bit, but I decided to at least offer him a chance. Nothing quite as fancy as killing for cash while living in a personal apartment out in space, but I could at least see if he was worth the effort for another chance.

Thankfully, he decided to pause for breath not too long after I had come up with a plan, and seized the opportunity to explain it to him. As it so happens, I occasionally check on the occasional cost of living on this planet, to ensure what I send to the kids is enough so that Rilan doesn't have to grab a job of his own. I told the old bastard I'd set up a separate bank account and send him roughly half of what I send the kids, on the conditions that he quits drinking, doesn't gamble or get involved with the gangs, and we'd talk every other week so I could make sure that he was keeping up his end of the bargain. A spark of anger flashed across his face for a second, but it petered out pretty quickly and he agreed to the terms. I guess he just needed the money that badly, though he might've been a bit more pissed if I told I'd also be keeping tabs on the bank account to ensure he wasn't cheating, but I'd save that for a conversation for another time. I also forbade contact with Rilan and the others until he'd straightened out, but he didn't seem too peeved about that.

While I was willing to give the bastard a second chance, I still didn't want to deal with him anymore than I had to, so with everything hashed out, I stood up to leave. To my complete and utter shock, the bastard hugged me. Or tried to hug me, anyway. Given that I was now a good foot taller than him, his arms made their way halfway around my neck while his head sat next to my shoulder blade. The familiar urge to throttle flared up as I realized he had mistaken my pity for affection, but it wasn't until he tried to hug me tighter that I finally pried the bastard off. I told him I'd send the details of the new account to him in a couple days, and...that was that. I left before I could see his reaction, before I did something I had to spend any more time in his presence.

As I got back to the shuttle, I gave Rilan a quick call and told him he wouldn't have to worry about the son of a bitch anymore. I think he assumed I dealt with him as someone in my trade usually would, 'cause he was silent afterwards until I clarified that I'd forbidden the bastard from contacting him and the kids before I felt he was responsible enough. I think he was relieved at that, but a crash in the background (which I later learned was the twins causing a ruckus) forced him to end the call a bit sooner than I'd have liked. Poor kid. He's gotten a lot better at dealing with the pair since I left, but I still think they occasionally run him ragged when they've got the urge to do so.

At any rate, I opened up the account not too long after I got back to the station. Given that I'm actually aboard a financial station, it's not too hard to find someone whose willing to put a few questionably legal surveillance measure on a new balance, much less ensure that no one else finds out about it. The whole thing was finished up by the time I went to bed yesterday, but I'm still going to wait until tomorrow to give it to him, if only so he can sweat it out a little.

Nothing says I can't have -some- payback against him, after all.

 -End Log