||DATUM: ČETVRTAK, 2014-11-13, 07:23:19 | PORUKA # 1|
LOKACIJA: Kwajalein-Bouvet Island
|author, but excusable in a son, the Anglo-Saxon race is |
The goodwill created by the party was definitely paying off. She mingled, said hello to several, made sure the coffee was plentiful and the plate of samples filled with variety. The phone had been ringing all morning and Jen clearly could use a break from it, as she waited on customers.
Sizzling beams shot out like lightning bolts, linking one crystal after another in a webwork. Bright light ricocheted down the corridors, blinding Octavia. She tried to move, but it all happened so fast.Kerrigan reviewed her previous encounter with the too-confident and overblown General Duke, during their rescue operation on theNorad II.The aide handed him a rolled document, which Mengsk opened and studied. Ah, the daily list of scheduled executions! The emperor ran his fingernail down the numerous names and recognized few of them. He didn't remember what their crimes were, and right now he didn't have the time to check up on everything. Too many annoying details. Most of them must have been political prisoners or mutineers who refused to give up the old reins of the Terran Confederacy.
вЂњWeвЂ™ll be looking for clues about ElenaвЂ™s state of mind. Who she might have been in contact with during her last days, anyone who might have threatened her, someone angry enough that they would have killed her.вЂќ He looked at Sam. вЂњShe didnвЂ™t say anything to you along those lines?вЂќTwo minutes later, he pulled into her long driveway and brought the white-and-brown SUV to a halt. She leaned across the console full of computer and radio equipment and kissed his cheek.She heard voices out in the sales area and looked up from her work to see Victor Tafoya pushing his way through to the kitchen. Her wizened, old landlord had already expressed his displeasure over her role in disgracing his son, as if Sam had actually committed some crime, herself. He shuffled over to her work table, not bothering to remove the battered straw hat that glistened with melting snowflakes.
The odd cold tingle of energy called out to her, trying to communicate something that she couldn't comprehend. Overall, around this entire structure, Octavia felt a brooding, sleeping presence, something indescribable, buried and not yet awakened.Ah.The voice was like a breath in her mind.I did not anticipate this.Soon she would launch her Brood War.
She didnвЂ™t mention that while she waited she intended to read ElenaвЂ™s diary, which was burning a hole through her backpack at this moment. Fifteen minutes later, sheвЂ™d pulled the small book from her pack and was putting the kettle on for tea. Snuggled into a corner of the sofa, she opened the leather-bound book.