She had just finished a small shopping trip to the surface of the planet and was returning to the station when she remembered that he comm was turned off because of transport regulations. Tapping it to the active mode brought a steady stream of messages and new items.
A new target
He was some famous person she had never heard of.
They had successfully recovered a small station (her heart sang at the news of a cleaner system)
War war war war war.
It seemed the famous person had friends. Like denizens of the deep of some ancient sea leviathans of mercenary and pirate organizations surfaced to strike at CPR. The battle for the other stations had turned ugly, fast. A news article called the defenders of the station brave and altruistic heroes. A second tap called up some news footage of the battle. How is one brave in a fleet of more than 50 against 6 specialized “station removal vessels”.
“The same type who think orbital bombardment to destroy a forest could be called ‘hunting wild game’.” She ran through the messages and was glad to see that all of the clones of her fellow corporation mates had been successfully used.
Returning to the news she saw a list of corporation messages that showed that there had been a spy within their midst. “To be expected, in this day and age, I suppose.” Interviews with some of the participants made her laugh delightedly.
“Usually it is the eco-conscious who are type cast as the wild eyed radicals.” She murmured to herself. “Why Ms. Wolf is the epitome of calm and rational next to those Neanderthals proclaiming this to be a great victory. And look, awww, they even made medals for themselves. I bet they were quite proud of gold stars on their spelling tests when they were young as well.”
She keyed entry into the Sigil and transferred the news broadcasts to the big screen so she could make out more of the details. She watched the ‘battle’ twice and took notes the second time. Then she went to her personal mails and tsked at the large number from people she had never heard of.
They had joined an alliance? Wars and combat standings flooded across her screen as combat status had changed a dozen times in the few days that she had been gone. “One small trip and it all comes apart.”
Then the more important mails came to the front. Most had the code tag “situation”. She created a new folder and slotted all of them to one side and then read them chronologically. “Oh! Yes that makes sense. Hmmm.”
Again, she was impressed in the maturity of her corporations well measured responses and the joining of the alliance had not been a full time plan but just a method to bleed the ‘brave defenders’ where it hurt, in their wallets. None of them had continued the war declarations past the minimum time. “Give till it is about to hurt, eh heroes?”
She quickly sent a message to the CEO and smiled as she reset her plans to open and dust all the ventilation ducts of her ships in the station. Then there was that lovely afghan blanket she had been planning to start soon. “The nice thing about children is that they have such very short attention spans.”
The situation was in disarray but she agreed with the CEO’s evaluation of the long term effects. He recruiter had warned her that there would be dangers involved as people realized what CPR was doing and now that the prediction had come true she was not about to run away. It had gotten messy . . . but with time, and a little help things would slowly become tidier than before.
She smiled and triple checks the power feeds to her ship and then proceeded to make some orders for yarn. Things would be quiet until the next shiny thing distracted the children and then they could return to creating order in systems of New Eden.
As she smiled a Hulk slowly floated past her docking bay and into space, the industrial lighting glinting off of its massive sides and gleaming as the Strip Miners caught the light.
Yes, something would distract the children soon enough.