You couldn’t see it.
100 k from the station the amanthea sat cloaked…watching them.
Inside the pod the pilot looked almost dead, totally still totally focused on the information being fed to him.
A internal channel clicked open, a private channel.
“ astral are you drunk?”
“not today”
“So this is serious”
Astral knew she was referring to the order he had dispatched earlier that morning.
“yes”
“we are leaving TGA?”
“yes, pack up all our equipment and move it to the destination I gave you”
“why”
“that’s where my rum is”
“I was being serious”
“so was I, trust me it will all become clear.”
The comm’s channel died
Astral continued watching his friends dock and undock for another hour, his course was already laid in for the trip, he had time.
He willed the ship into warp towards the outbound gate with a mental sigh.
He was leaving TGA but would always be a pirate. He liked the flashy red.
:(
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