Monday morning.
I hate mornings, and mondays are the worst.
The coffee machine is still broke, so I just mix the powder with hot water.
It tastes awfull, but slowly some sort of life return.
I see an envelope lying on my desk.
I did not put it there.
The cloak logo is visible... Shit, why did I wake up?
A PA/481/22/A/g form. A 'Personal Evaluation Form'. The bastards send my a
suicide form. I did a special class on Meny on these: you have to evaluate
yourself, and whatever you did or did not do, you will be flagged as
lacking. Who the hell was responsible for this? I will pull their guts out
through their nostrils. Shit.
Wait, if I can have it retracted, I still might make it... Sender... Construction and Planning... Lets call.
Dictafone auto-time 10:45 Monday
I am screwed. 'Retraction? Well, if you could help us with a *** checkup we could reverse the procedure'... A *** checkup of the temperature of the bedrock beneath Mort... I've been given a Black, a two hundred levels down black, no light, just darkness, and I should meet the rest of the convicts, aka squad, in two hours time in Central. Lets spend all the credits I have on ammo, blaze, and drum, and a survival package.
I am going to leave the person responsible down there without legs.
Dictafone auto-time 12:50 Monday
It is the stormer who did it, I am sure. I know 3 of the 5 other DMWs. Luxon is pretty oke: a KMS wraith-raider with top grades in martial-arts and good armour. Late was late as per usual, but a wraith scout with dependable navigation skills and very good eyes and ears gives us at least a small chance on survival. Addly is a Karma idiot. A 313 with a tail. His standard response "Addly can do everything". He clearly needs to remind himself of his name. He probably blabbed something to the wrong person and got us into this mess.
The other two are worse. Two frigging Ebons. One of them, Cherish, is wearing the whitest -and most visible- deathsuit I have ever seen, and he (!) is trained as a medic. No weapons! None! and he can't sneak either. We are so going to die. The other is an upty bastard mechanic, who should take care of the probes, but for the fact that he is so weak that he needs our help to carry the damn things. I got him though: I insisted on a signed form and I used XV/046/08/Z/h instead of a K/h, so he is still responsible for them even if I loose them.
Was he pushed, or did he fall... hmmm...
Dictafone auto-time 16:00 Monday
The Idiot (aka 313) decided that he knew a good starting point, and, as he outranks me by one measly sublevel, I had to listen. He lives at DT sector 262, level -17, so he knew the way and the first hour down was boring as hell. Our luck did not last of course, it never does. A gang accosted us, I'm not sure if they wanted money, our equipment, or just us, because the fight started after 3 seconds. Damn Luxon and Idiot are quick. They closed the distance in no time, ignoring the few shots that hit them. Late just clambered out of the way, all scouts are cowards, but it was beter than Cherish who just stood there: total combat paralysis! The techhead had a nifty collapsable polearm: I want one of those! I managed to hit 1 or 2 gangers, but the fight was over by then - Luxon and Idiot took out at least 9 of them.
No usefull stuff in the spoils but some unis and some shiver dogtags. I called up to report, now 2 MIAs are KIAs; It is always good to close files.