| Author | Message | ||
     Olme Tlaloco |
Computer, Transmit. It had been a week since leaving the Coronado. Or had it been two? Had the time really passed so quickly? Tlaloco had encoded a harmless instruction to his personal replicator. He hoped it hadn't been disassembled. The computer wasn't tied into Sav. It had nothing to do with her. It was his own, and it sat in the chapel, a compromise between his beliefs and starfleet's annoying regulations regarding the ceremonial sacrifice of sentient beings. The message would be transmitted to Farley's work station. Sorry to leave in such a rush, Farley. We'll have to catch up to you soon, matey. In fact, sooner than you'll ever realize. The jumps forward in time, the abilities of Paqui's ship, anyway, by the time you get this message, you may already be here on The Broken Lady. Simply, we're taking aboard the future Farley. We need you, hell, I need you at the exec post, and I can't wait. I know it violates every law and the temporal Prime Directive, but hell if anyone paid any attention to that directive, I'd have died of smallpox nine hundred years ago. In any case, here are some replicator codes. run them and then delete the codes. Please. You'll have a communicator that works on our frequency. I know the whole skull and crossbones design is a little much, but hell, we're pirates after all. Hold onto the com badge. We'll come get you when the time is right. I remain your friend in rain and war. Olme. |