No love for Logic Bombs…

Aziza Minz was dead asleep when the call came. She snorts awake at the shrill sound, and gasps for breath. She sits upright, covered in a light sheen of sweat, her tank top clinging to her sticky form.

<<incoming transmission, priority channel [redacted] calling from Rens.>>

“Aziza”. It was Mr. D. He looked pale and clammy, kinda like a clone fresh from the vat.

“We lost the Sleipner. I was engaged in a pitched battle with Caldari naval forces in Rens. Rens of all places. They were trying to get a supply depot set up. I had eliminated all but two final Battleships when one of the ships tried to hail me.

It must have activated the logic bomb because the next thing I know, my controls totally lock, everything, manual overrides, the backups, the jury rigging. I think the central processor melted trying to deal with the logic bomb, and the next thing you know, I’m in my emergency pod heading for the Sisters Base as fast as I can go.

I know we’ve been hit hard for expenses this month… give me the bad news, what sort of ship can I afford? Or am I refitting the hurricane for battle?”

Aziza just blinks and assimilates knowledge. She glances at the clock. 23:15. She had been asleep for a total of forty minutes. No wonder the inside of her head felt like fuzzy oatmeal.

“Uh… Give me a second…” Her markets toolbar sprang to life. “We’ve got just over 248M in cash. Other assets could take a bit to value.”

Her employer cursed. “Well, not exactly what I had in mind for that money. I was planning on extending your pilot’s license with that cash.”

Aziza gives her employer a lopsided grin. At least he was thinking of her. “That’s not practical sir. You’re going to need to refit A.S.A.P. Will 150M do, sir?”

Her employer considers and nods. “Will do. Then get some rack time, I’ll be calling you in a few hours with more work. [Redacted] Out.”

Aziza Minz transferred the cash and then opened a new log on her terminal. “Open Ongoing Investigation of loss of Sleipner due to a logic bomb…” She rubs her eyes and glances over at her nightstand table. She arches a brow, looking at the tail end of the Crash. She knew it wasn’t a good idea, but she pauses the log and heads over to the nightstand. Time to call a guy who knew a guy…