Entry 15

The camera drone's lens blinks to life and quickly pans around the station room. Programmed to track movement, it zeros in on Senn, who is quietly standing at his desk. He's once again dressed in his ivory duster and BDU, seeming revitalized and eager. On the desk, beside the personal computer sits a worn music player, twangy Matari blues tinnily seeping into the audio feed. The drone whirs across the living space quietly and smoothly, turning to face its owner once in range. The two prosthetic eyes, still a relatively new sight on the pilot's face, are focused intently on his work.

Without picking his head up, he speaks and directs the camera drone's attention as he ambulates.

"We managed to pin down a Wolf several days ago. The pilot was impressive, nearly peeled the shields off my employer's Thrasher before I joined the fight in mine. Even then, she made us work for it."

Senn's hands draw the attention of the camera drone as he picks up a firearm from the desk, a brick of a weapon, boxy and rough in design. It is, however, only slightly larger than his old gun, easily concealed. It appears to have seen at least light use in the past. As he speaks, he field strips it out of habit.

"Fortunately, there was enough of that ship left to salvage a handful of rare parts. The money from the plating on that beast was enough to top off my security budget..."
He clicks the slide of the pistol into place, displaying it for the drone's lens and casting his artificial eyes on the screen, meeting the gaze of whoever might be watching the entry log.

"It's an old Kaisa ten-millimeter, hollow point rounds. Mean stopping power, low penetration. In a crowded room it'll put down one hostile and the rest will be untouched. Maybe a little bloody, but it won't be theirs."

He sets the weapon back down on the table, keeping his gaze on the camera as he holds his hands up in loose fists, displaying the black gloves covering the appendages, pockets of raised material present on the knuckles, the first phalanges, and the backs of the hands. 

"Jack gloves. The pockets are filled with powdered steel. Adds a lot of hurt, lowers the chance of an accidental murder if negotiations break down. Not to mention, it prevents cuts from teeth."

"I also had a galnet interface added to these," he continues, tapping the side of his eye implants lightly. "I have a constant connection on hand, the dive just requires a little concentration. I managed to use that to open links to company channels, audio feed, even affiliated pilot feeds if they grant access... suffice to say, I have my ear to the ground. Not a moment too soon either."

With a smooth motion he lights a cigarette and tucks it between his lips, the lighter disappearing into his pocket just as quickly as it was produced. He breathes deeply of the narrow cylinder, letting it gradually escape his mouth as he checks a number of other devices on the table, most notably his repaired stun knife.

"I finalized the internal security charter with my employer yesterday. Once operations get under way, it's going to be vital to maintain our anonymity in the private and public spheres.We can't afford a leak in our information."

Senn turns on his heels, apparently ready to depart for the day. Before he reaches the door, he pauses and about-faces, nearly bumping into the camera drone following after him. He reaches for the buttons of his trench coat, peeling the folds back to display a black, gridded vest.

"Nearly forgot, bought this too. Class two, stands up to anything below assault rifle rounds. Now, I've got to attend to some last-minute business. I get the feeling my employer will need some mobility if his plans start picking up speed."

With that, he closes up his coat and turns back to the door, opening it with a press of the keypad beside the door jam. If one were to pause the feed, they could clearly see the ignition key to a planetary wheeled vehicle dangling from his fingers.