Catherines Datapad

... Worst Day ever.

Its not even over, and I know I will never top this. At least not in this life-time. The previous one back with the prick… I’d still take this over that. But barely.

Right now I’m lying on my back in a tube. I shot out the track of the robot that just tried to vent us into space. Before this I was using all my building climbing experiance to the max to stay alive. I am so glad that all those pipe works were up there, or we would have been toast. Possibly with quite literally with that energy weapon on that security droid we nicknamed Robbie. I never want to see that horrible shape again. Being able to move freely without being shot at all the time made all the difference. Or rather, with the pipes taking all the damage. Especially when those pipes can be dropped on said robots.

We are in a spacestation that is trying to kill us. I thought I’d brought everything. I cannot believe I didn’t think to bring one of the detox drives from the ship. Stupid. I thought we were going to get out, find the shuttle, and then be able to go back to the ship for what we needed. Stupid. I know better than that.

... at least I have some food. A little wet, a little crushed, but food.

I am so lucky that my data pads even work at all. If I get out of here and non of the loot I collected survives, I am going to kill Niche. Wait, killing Niche seems like a good idea anyhow. Noted for later consideration.

I have extra sets of clothing. A number of data pads. Spare parts. My work pack. 5.5 flechet clips. An extra battery for my laser pistol. Some lemon grass, some rosemary, a watermelon, two zucchini. A couple of leaves of seaweed that stuck to me (I think its’ eatable.) A map of the station.

Robbies are fast and strong, but they can’t jump or climb. Something that isn’t too great an advantage on an enclosed space station.

Diskies have blowtorch attachments. Vulnerable to laser pistols.

Cubits so far are harmless. Kinda’ cute, but they can repair things, so they might cause us trouble.

Spermits are vulnerable to lights. Made that spotlight bloody useful.

The all cleaning eye doesn’t seem to be capable of much beyond its cleaning responsibilities, but that seems to be enough to give it the opportunity to vent us into space. When I get off the station, I’m going to start looking into code breaking software. Add that on a data pad to my work pack.

The Doctor is done with the Captain. Time to go.

::Voice recorded entry::
Copied from EDP Polera045

Beware: Donut Station of Death. The station on this asteroid is infected with malignat AI. AI has control of all functions, including repair, maintenance, and defense robots.

Really, if you insist on landing, DO NOT follow the Red lights. Bring Armor Piercing rounds and extremely bright hand held lights.

But really, just… don’t bother.

I hate the mob. I don’t want to do anything, near, around or with them. They have too many resources, too much machisimo, and too much control of their territory to screw with. If you come accross them off their territory, say on the Fringes, ok, fine, its safe to deal with them. However, get involved with their business on their territory and you are screwed.

Paul is almost dead… again. Flying back to our ship I wonder how safe we’re going to be. Paul is barely holding together, so if we survive the landing, it’ll be a miracle. Then with all the mediatronics on this planet flying advertisement every which way we are going to be tracked.

I don’t think we can wait on Paul getting better. Considering the obsessivly violent reaction he has had to the entire situation, it might be better for me to commence truce negotiations with the mob while he is still incapacitated.

All we want is to get off the planet with Paul’s sister, body and mind. They probably are going to be a bit upset with us over the shoot out at the whore house, but given the mob’s history they might consider that fair comprehension for an angry family member. Any satisfaction for vengeance against the sister should have been satisfied now by the extent of the damages done to the girl in question.

I just want off this shitty planet. I demand a vacation. A real honest to god lets go find a tropical island somewhere vacation. Maybe I just won’t leave.

Catherines Datapad

Polera Doc4