"Firespray 31, this is Jovan Station Control. Please identify yourself."

"This is TCI78V1212 Nemesis of Reason requesting permission to dock."

"Hold please."

The time spent waiting was starting to pile up, and it was giving me way too much time to think about what I was doing. Sure, it wouldn't be the first time I'd flown halfway across the galaxy uninvited in hopes of scoring some ass, but I had to admit that even I had a few lines I didn't cross; and here I was staring at one of them. Jovan Station might be an Alliance military and civilian outpost here on the galactic border with the Empire, but it was also a flagship for Cizerack culture and people. I had been here before on business a few times, and I have to say it sucks to be forced to confront a slice of home that I want nothing to do with. The very idea has my stomach already curled into balls of stress, and the long wait for docking confirmation was making it worse. I mean, I get it. I haven't exactly been the best guest when I've been here before. It's not like I'm going to confront the ghosts of my past sober, and yeah shit happens when I've had way too much Vosh.

"Nemesis of Reason, you have been approved to dock at S3D7. Watch yourself. Any further disturbances will result in lawful punishment up to and including exclusion, impound, and jail time. Welcome to Jovan Station."

What an overreaction, jeez. It was only a little property damage, and those guys deserved the beating they got. Seriously, who tries to fight a big ass motherfucker in armor like that? They would have broken their own bones on my armor even I hadn't broken them first with my hands.

If I was going to be forced to watch my step then this visit just got a million times worse. That means no venting, no hard drinking. Fuck. It's fine. I can handle it, and what's more I will be a little fucking model citizen. That'll show 'em, and them maybe they'll take down the heat. Maybe Vraska will give me jobs again if she sees I'm not the trouble maker she thinks I am. Goddess knows I can't keep working exclusively for Sheegoth. I love that big lizard but he's driving me crazy with the jobs he's been giving me lately. Baby sitting corporate rats, scaring cavemen on backwater planets, and transporting goods. That's not what I signed up for. I swear if I don't get to shoot somebody in the face this year I'm going to fucking lose it.

It didn't take long to get docked on Spire Three, but it did take a long time to walk the length of the Nemesis several times making sure every single weapon I owned was properly stored in it's proper place. Every time I thought I had everything taken care of I found another particle laser or vibro knife out of place and started the whole process over again. In the end, I had a lot more weapons than I thought I did, and even more surprising it all fit in the lockers I had on-board. I wouldn't say I'm not a safe person when it comes to blasters, but I do tend to leave more lying about just in case I need a quick grab. Never know what you'll run into. But this was Jovan, and knowing the bastards they'll conduct a search or some shit and I was not going to get caught with my tail out.

A place for everything and everything in it's place. It looks like a goddamn holomercial in here. Thanks, I hate it.

"Oni, watch the ship and lock it up after me. If Port-Sec does anything fishy, you let me know... Acknowledged, Master Abaddon. Safe travels."

The Nemesis did not actually have an on-board ship AI, but after seeing the one on-board Fook's ship I've been wanting one of my own. However, that's not something I'm ever going to be able to afford with the shit jobs I've been getting on top of what feels like a never ending sea of medical bills, so in the meantime I've been pretending to have one, trying out different names and personalities, and voicing both parts of the conversation. Not sure I like Oni all that much. He's a little too much a butler and not as cool as I want, and it felt like a rip-off of Guan Yu. I don't want to be a copycat. Abaddon the Void Knight is a unique and cool guy, and doesn't need to steal the style from anyone else.

I'd made sure my armor was polished to a shining finish, and every bit of chip damage and blast scoring was cleaned out and patched properly. New armor was higher on the priority list than ship AI but it was still going to be awhile before I could afford another top of the line set like this one. Getting the helmet repaired after Centares had cost a lot more than I could have ever anticipated, and that monthly payment was really wearing down my credits. So for now it was patch and polish. The worst of it would be covered by my full length coat. It felt weird leaving the ship armed with nothing. No hidden blaster, no stashed knife. I was on my best behavior. If it wasn't for the armor I would feel completely naked and vulnerable. Shit. What am I saying? Abaddon doesn't need weapons. He's a badass. Yeah. Strut that stuff. Ain't nobody going to mess with me if I walk confidently, and look scary. I pulled my hood up over the top of my helmet and as soon as I passed the security checkpoint I stuck a stim in to the vent in the front of my helmet.

Navigating around the station took a bit of doing. I had no idea where she is, and I had to ask around. A lot. Even less fun I ended up increasingly around Alliance personnel, which made sense since that's who she worked for, but still, I'd like to spend as little time around the Alliance and their felinoid allies as much as possible. By the time I found my way the stim had long ago burn down and been discarded. I found myself at a door that said "Engineering" over the door and the plaque next to it listed several names of servicemen that worked within. I ran my finger down the list and read each one... Rabeak... Floewander... Rakkamar... Beck! There it is. So this must be the place. Looked like an office workshop combo from out here. I hope I look presentable. Shit. I should have brought something. Flowers? Nah. That's way too sissy. Fuck. I probably look like such a weirdo. Stand tall, heroic pose. Now hit that buzzer. What's the worst that can happen?

Oh shit.