Hakeri IX – Moon 14 – Sebiestor Tribe Bureau – 21:17 EVT
The subtle, but annoying noise from her desk vidcom was trying to get Ofylur’s attention. She knew what it was; another pod pilot in need of a kredit fix.
Ofylur sighed. It had been a long day, she didn’t want to deal with another crazy ‘elite of society’, but she knew she must. It stipulates in her contract that until she clocks out and shuts down her vidcom, she has to accept any and all incoming calls. Pod pilots, for all their flaws, were excellent ‘fixers’.
She sighed once more “Accept call.”
Its not only Sebiestors that work for the Sebiestor tribe these days. Indeed, anyone with sufficient standing to either the Republic, or the corporation could gain audience with Ofylur Woligabet; one of the better-paying, high-level agents in Empire space. This time, it was a Brutor lady, staring at her with a raised brow while she played with one of her dreadlocks with her right hand.
“Yes?” Ofylur questioned the projected image. This was not what the pilot looked like of course. She was currently submerged in three hundred gallons of goop and had plugs jacking her into her ship’s interfaces via the marvels of pod technology. No, this was a mental projection for the benefit of the agent.
“Ey up, Wombat. I need isk for new toys, so gimme a job.”
Ofylur frowned “You know that’s not my name, Miss Wayrest…”
“Nope, its Wobbly Wombat. If you happened to be born with a name I could pronounce, I’d use it. Sadly, you’re stuck with a pet name. Now. Work. Do you have any for me?”
“Its late in the day;” the agent responded “all of the better jobs have been taken.”
“Don’t care, as long as you don’t send me on some stupid mining excursion.” Kalahari’s image on the screen spoke, flashing a wicked grin.
“Oh woe betide you actually having to do something you don’t enjoy for a living, Miss Wayrest. Thankfully, on that front you are in luck.” Ofylur continued “Next door, in Nifflung, we have a situation with some crazy Amarr general taking the war into his own hands. He has a recon outpost there.”
“And you want me to kill the naughty Amarr shippies that followed him, yeah?” Kalahari questioned.
“Yes, ideally. If you want to be paid though, you’ll need to destroy the lookout post there as well. I’m sure that won’t be any trouble for you.”
“Right-o. I’ll have it done in a jiffy.”
“I’ve forwarded the coordinates for the deadspace pocket to your pod. Payment for this one is roughly a million kredits – if you can get it done quickly. Not much, but what can you expect when you turn up at the close of business?”
Kalahari grumbled a bit “Whatever, I’ll catch you in a bit.”
The feed went dead. Olyfur frowned “Not that I’ll be here by the time she’s done…” she muttered to herself before clocking off and logging out of her vidcom.
She switched off the lights and entered her security code to lock the door before heading down the hall for home, and a good night’s sleep.