Boxes, Boxes Everywhere

“That takes care of the cynos,” I murmured to myself while checking of  another item on the list. “Now as to the Purifier...”
 

I frowned looking the manifest: I knew I had written it myself the  night before, but why had I put an F85 Damage Control instead of its T2 variant on it? Well, not to worry, that was easily corrected: a  quick data entry, and the new and improved fitting order made its way  into the system.

Only to be rejected with rather arrogant warning beep. I was just  about to check what the system was complaining about, when suddenly a  weight fell on my shoulders, and two arms embraced me from behind.

“What’cha doing?”, asked a curious voice right next to my ear.

I reached up and tussled Eta’s hair.

“Packing, Sis, that is...”, I glowered at the terminal, “...if the  system’d let me.”

“Well, it would help if you didn’t exceed the CPU on your ship.” She  pointed at the screen. “You know, there are only that many hamster wheels which can fit into a hull that small.”

My eyes followed where she pointed -- of course! The F85 was the only  DCU which still fit given the rest of the modules! I really should write that stuff down.

As I reversed my manifest change, Eta pushed away some of my notes and  made herself comfortable on the desk.

“So, you’re really moving down to Catch? I thought we lost Sov again.”

I flashed her a smile. “Yep, I'm moving. After all the work the alliance has put into the project, it'd be petty not to. Besides - I always wanted to cause more explosions!"

"That's what I have my reactors for - much simpler!"

I finished up my last entries, and turned to her. "And as for Sov - we have handed it over amicably to Dirt Nap Squad, and in return they let us stay as guests. It's perfect: we develop our 0-sec legs..."

"...while not having to worry about a sov bill.", she completed the thought. "Until they change their minds."

I nodded in agreement - but that was a risk we had to take one way or another. This way less was put on the line.

"When will you be leaving?"

"As soon as possible." I gestured towards the terminal. "I got my ships I want to take down, now I just need to stage them Next Door, so Calcinus can jump them down with his carrier the next days. He's itching to go as well."

A thought occurred to me. "Say, could you be available with a cyno ship? He may have to make two trips."

"Sure! Just give me an hour heads-up in case I'm hauling stuff. But... if you want to stage your ships, you may want to hurry: the CONCORD curfew begins in less than two hours."

"Oh crap! That is today? I completely forgot!" I jumped up and headed for the door. "I better get moving then - sorry."

"No problem. In fact," she hopped off the desk, "I'm going to spot for you." She smiled sweetly. "Because I'm nice like that."

A soft sound from the terminal made her turn back.

"You've got mail!" she pronounced. "From somebody named ... Grendel, or something. Ring a bell?"

I racked my brain. "Not a clue. Probably a faction agent - I have been working on some standings. Whoever it is, it can wait. Let's go!"

"Right!" She caught up to me. "Ships to move! Modules to box! Laundry to fold!"