Private Log 0065
Mother and Father have awoken.
A lowly mnemonics engineer named Sal birthed them back into this world, three months after they had died. Not a long time to be dead, but long enough for certain plans to be put into motion. I enjoyed the look on their faces as they learned of their demise, the mystery surrounding their social network blackout for the past three months, and father’s decanting into an inferior sleeve. Priceless.
As I thought it did not take them long to begin searching for answers. A quick visit to Kestrel would have told them little. Only that I was not the only person to have messed around with their data histories. Ahh Valare what a program you have. I wonder if I could take that from you?
I guess that sometimes, lack of evidence can sometimes be evidence itself. After picking up an old companion they took transport to Vantage to investigate a possible source for the missing Extranet data. An unfortunate coincidence that the Talons were involved in all that, too many webs to weave and sometimes the threads get crossed.
They got to poor old Valare of course. Through she was marooned upon the Chickenhawk, the crew managed a space sortie, killing a couple of Talons and claiming the ship. All within a day they were close to the answers they wanted. So quick. I had hoped that father’s paranoia would delay them but I fear the Captain they recruited, Stella, is a bad influence.
So quick but my plan was already in motion. So when they arrived at Proch, the uprising was in full swing. I had thought that my revenge against Nowak would be successful but Mother and Father disappointed me again. Parent’s (or family in general) can be such a disappointment once the veneer wears thin.
A daring rescue through the corridors of the Icarus Hub means that surely Nowak will tell them about the outpost. Despite the fact that I left evidence with the Talons and on Proch itself that would implicate Father and Mother in the uprising, I fear the Nowak will be relieved at her rescue and reward them with precious knowledge.
And now I can only guess at how long it will take for them to arrive here; a lonely, floating outpost orbiting a neglected planet optimistically named Opportunity Four. Soon I think.
The best predictor of future behaviour is past behaviour.