Intergalactic Summit

Should Andromeda Kondur ever create a hit list, it would stretch from the Serpent’s Coil to the Great Wildlands. The top name changed from time to time. Others were crossed out with triumphant glee when pod-killed by her or another.

But at the current moment the capsuleer girl decided to forgo all the other names effectively shorting the list to a certain old Vherokior Mystic with the endearing nickname of “The Prophet”. He was going to wake up paralysed with her leaning over him, tribal knife against his throat, or stripped butt naked in a room full of Amarrian priests.

Andromeda was absolutely sure someone in the tribe loved seeing her life go straight to hell and was laughing there ass of at her situation. The mission: roaming New Eden in search of twelve “chosen ones” that will help finding the Worldtree of the old prophecy. Her means: an old Republic Navy Frigate waiting for her in a remote Thukker station. The problem faced: trying not to crash the rookie ship into the nearest moon to kill herself and her old mentor from shear annoyance.

She could not be still; if the fidgeting was not enough she started fooling with the capacitor gage. The Prophet smiled at her:

- You know if you did not want to go you could have just turned down the mission…

Cursing the lips of emotion, Andromeda concentrated on making her reply civil. After all he just stated a simple fact.

- And let you and the “chosen ones” have all the glory. I’ll pass on that.

A few glorious silent minutes passed, then he added:

- If you want I could take over piloting the ship. There’s still a long way to go before reaching Agtver VI.

Andromeda briefly wondered if he had felt what she thought about crashing the ship.

- Why, master, what is the matter? Afraid the ship is going to crash? You should know by now I would never do that to the enlighten one you are…

For some odd reason he seemed to be put a little at ease by her taunt.

- Considering I know what happened at the station’s bar on-

With a flick of her hand, the ship spun twice before straitening back out. A loud thud came from behind her from the Prophet’s face planting on the floor. Andromeda smiled as she felt his glare on the back of her head.

- That, venerable master, is why you wear a seatbelt. Hold on, we will soon be docking the Thukker Mix factory.

What is it with every religion in the cluster suddenly busting out clairvoyants?

There's so much prophet this quarter someone should be paying dividends.

It is really astonishing how some stupid pilots can bring my name absolutely out of nothing for irrelevant discussion.