This time, however, the shivering wouldn't stop so soon. She kept her eyes closed, shaken to her core. The jolt to her senses, the sting of a milisecond of feedback on her mind, told her all she needed to know without pulling up her instruments. She knew that when she opened her eyes she wouldn't find the Verdigris around her anymore.
Stupidity was never forgiving in space. Add overconfidence to that, and the results were universally disastrous. She had just proven that.
Somewhere in Ainaille she had butted heads with Caldari and Amarrian navies, infiltrated in Federation territory. Right now she couldn't even recall the particulars of the mission. Something about a secret slave complex?
Why couldn't she remember it? Was she really so selfish, so self-absorbed, so overconfident that she didn't even listen anymore? The agent had told her to go somewhere and she had. That's how it worked, day in, day out. See agent, board ship, warp somewhere, shoot the evil people who tried to kill you, save whatever innocents were left in the wrecks, hand in proof to agent, get reward, go back for the salvage and to make sure no stranded people were left to die a slow death in space.
Not this time.
She swore, hit by a wave of rage. She cried out her frustration, her pain, her anger - not at the little amarrian bastards who had webbed, jammed and shot her, but at herself for being so stupid, so blind, so... incompetent.
She wanted to go back to station, tell the agent she'd failed miserably and couldn't do this anymore. The Dragonstar guys were rallying forces, though. They managed to push through her wall of anger and frustration by coaxing and good-naturedly bullying her into staying in space, going back for the Sweet MacKenzie III, her salvage-fitted Catalyst hull.
By the time she got back to the site, it was all over. Feu and Gerrard had done her work for her, avenged her loss. It warmed her heart a little bit that they'd rally like that to her aid. It seemed the Dragonstar spirit was still alive.
With a heavy heart she approached the twisted mass of metal that had once been an Ishtar-class hull and started looking for survivors.
Blog posts are labelled according to a certain logic, most of it self-explanatory. Note, however:
In-Character: events that would one way or another become common knowledge out there. Fiction: most likely events that are not common knowledge. Do not assume you know this about my character unless you have good reason to. Out-of-Character: mostly ramblings from the player, not to be associated with the character herself.