DATELINE: SESEN Part Five - [Comm-Links](https://api.star-citizen.wiki/comm-links) - DATELINE: SESEN Part Five DATELINE: SESEN Part Five ========================= Undefined Undefined Dateline: Sesen [Previous](https://api.star-citizen.wiki/comm-links/13592) [Next](https://api.star-citizen.wiki/comm-links/13595) Content ------- English Breaking News: Ulla Yadav Suffocated in a Hospital by Her own Trash Fire. No One Noticed. Sharp pinpricks attacked her lungs with every breath. It felt like the inside of her throat was peeling. “Come on, you bastard,” she said through her hacking. “Don’t you smell that?” “How many times do I have to tell you to get back in bed?” “It’s on fire!” “Mr. Sato, sir — ” It was a second, female voice. “Something’s seeping from the bottom of the door.” Yadav imagined him crouching, sniffing. There were boots shuffling, and shouts, and a keypad beeping. She let a little smile of vindication creep onto her face, and stepped back. The door flew inward. Two medical personnel with extinguishers barreled past her. Behind them, two guards filled the doorway, leaving here with no chance of escape. Mr. Sato snatched Yadav’s wrist. “Call for an evacuation of the floor,” he told his colleague. To Yadav he said, “This isn’t nice behavior for a house guest.” “House guest? I thought I was under arrest,” she replied. He pulled another industrial zip tie from his vest pocket and secured her hands behind her back, then escorted her from the room. People rushed by, aiming for the emergency exits. But there were still no warning lights, or sirens, or pre-recorded announcements. Just the pushing and yelling of chaotic escape. A woman slammed heavily into Yadav, then spun away — her doctor. “Hey,” Yadav called after. “What happened to Haddix?” Wrestling with her restraints, she tried to break free of the guard and give chase. But the man had a firm grip. Together, they moved in the opposite direction of the others, swimming up the stream of people. “Don’t you know you’re not supposed to use an elevator during a fire?” Yadav asked as they stopped in front of the stainless-steel doors. “We’ll risk it,” he said gruffly. They took the lift several floors down, but not all the way to ground level. When the doors opened, Yadav wondered if she was still in the same building. No pristine, white walls here. No marble or glass or polished steel. Not even basic drywall or wood. Nothing was finished. Insulation and iron supports stuck out from the walls. Simple light bulbs with chain switches hung from the ceiling. The doors were composite — cheap composite at that. All of the air ducts were visible in the ceiling, and the floors were covered with antiquated vinyl. “Remodeling?” she asked. A man in a thread-bare suit emerged from one room. He seemed surprised to find a guard standing there, prisoner in hand. “Got an empty room I can stash her in for a while?” asked Sato. The man pointed down the hall. “Seventy-four B,” he said uncertainly. Pink insulation puffed out from between the room’s beams. A rickety desk and two chairs were the only furnishings. There wasn’t even a waste bin to start a fire in. After securing her to a chair, the guard left, grumbling to himself. Yadav’s first instinct was, once again, to escape. Pushing and tugging against the ties would be useless — she’d seen enough captives with bloody wrists to know. She could try filing the ties off, against one of the support beams. … Or she could just smash the poorly made chair, and run out the unlocked door. Peering closely, she could tell that the door was kept in place by a simple latch with a knob. There was nothing to stop her from walking out, chair tied to her back or no. She noted a lack of dust in the air. There were no plaster fumes, or metal filings, or paint. No building supplies lying around. No workmen making a racket. This wasn’t a floor in transition. No renovations were happening. The floor was what it was: crappy. She paused. Something was off here. The guard had treated her like an irritation, not a dangerous criminal suspected of piracy. Sure enough, there were no signs of fire detectors or extinguisher housings in the ceiling. Her room in the med bay hadn’t been malfunctioning, it simply hadn’t been as state-of-the-art as it appeared. Less than that, even. The whole building had to be a damn death trap. Even in the poorest nations, she’d never seen a government facility like this. Shoddily designed, shoddily constructed — What kind of a hick planet had she landed on? That’s why her elbow hurt, that was why Haddix was dead. They hadn’t killed him; they’d simply been unable to help him. She didn’t know if that made her feel better or worse, more understanding or more angry. Mostly she just felt numb. Green stamps on one wall’s naked bracings caught her eye. A company logo, composed of an oval with an arrow through it. She’d seen that recently — on a manifest. The logo belonged to one of the companies she’d suspected of insurance fraud. Was it a coincidence, or had some of the pirate’s booty made its way down to the planet? The governor probably didn’t care where she got her supplies, especially if she’d okayed such slapdash craftsmanship. She wouldn’t be the first politician to turn a blind eye to the origins of cheap goods. But then again, the government didn’t appear to be on friendly terms with the pirates. Perhaps the bandits dumped whatever items they couldn’t move. A poor, nearly-empty planet might make for a good garbage pit. The inhabitants could have scooped up the leftovers, appropriating all they could salvage. She wanted a closer look at those shanties. “Why did you bring her down here?” asked a woman on the other side of the door. It took a moment for Yadav to place her voice. “I was going to have her transported to my office when she awoke.” Ah, the governor. “I understand,” said the guard, Mr. Sato. “But she started the fire in the med bay. It was an emergency. I needed someplace to stash her temporarily. In light of her destructive nature, I do not advise you to conduct your interrogation in your main suites.” “We … transport her to a proper cell,” said a new man’s voice. He kept his tone even and quiet, which made it hard for Yadav to pick up, even through the thin walls. She could only catch snippets. “I like keeping … compound. But I don’t think … aware …” “I can have a vehicle ready in a few minutes, and a set of men to escort her from the vicinity,” said Sato. “Thank you,” replied the governor. “But I think she’s fine here. Dismissed, Mr. Sato.” “Any evidence … and sedate her until she can be moved … my advice,” insisted the other man. “Please, Wei,” the governor said imploringly. “You’re not seeing the opportunity here. Isn’t this what we’ve been waiting for? An out? A way to put an end to the piracy?” “You’re not listening to me,” he insisted. “News people … own agendas … want is sensationalism. Blood, gore, human filth … aren’t interested in helping anyone, just recording the carnage.” Yadav couldn’t exactly say he was wrong. When you got right down to it, greed and power ruled the human condition. She’d picked at that scab for decades, exposed all the little oozing bits. It was her job to get down to the nuts and bolts of a situation in order to expose how corroded they’d become. She wasn’t a touchy-feely kind of newscaster. Thieves and liars everywhere you go, Yadav thought. Perhaps that was the real reason why she never got close to people, never asked about their personal lives. Inevitably, they’d disappoint her. “We have to protect ourselves,” the man continued. “Even song birds will peck our eyes out when their nest is threatened,” he recited flatly, as though it were an old proverb. “Our nest is fine, Wei.” “All right,” he conceded with a sigh. “But, in my opinion, it’s time to blind the intruder.” to be continued … Breaking News: Ulla Yadav wurde in einem Krankenhaus durch ihr eigenes Müllfeuer erstickt. Niemand bemerkte es. Scharfe Nadelstiche griffen bei jedem Atemzug ihre Lungen an. Es fühlte sich an, als würde sich das Innere ihrer Kehle schälen. "Komm schon, du Bastard", sagte sie durch ihr Hacken. "Riechst du das nicht?" "Wie oft muss ich dir noch sagen, dass du wieder ins Bett gehen sollst?" "Es brennt!" "Mr. Sato, Sir -" Es war eine zweite, weibliche Stimme. "Etwas sickert aus dem Boden der Tür." Yadav stellte sich vor, wie er sich hockte, schnüffelte. Es gab Stiefel, die schlurften, und Schreie, und ein Tastenfeld, das piepste. Sie ließ ein kleines Lächeln der Rechtfertigung auf ihr Gesicht kriechen und trat zurück. Die Tür flog nach innen. Zwei Sanitäter mit Feuerlöschern fuhren an ihr vorbei. Hinter ihnen füllten zwei Wachen den Eingang und ließen hier keine Chance zu entkommen. Mr. Sato schnappte sich Yadavs Handgelenk. "Ruf nach einer Evakuierung des Bodens", sagte er seinem Kollegen. Zu Yadav sagte er: "Das ist kein gutes Verhalten für einen Hausgast." "Hausgast? Ich dachte, ich stehe unter Arrest", antwortete sie. Er zog einen weiteren Industrie-Reißverschluss aus seiner Westentasche und befestigte ihre Hände hinter ihrem Rücken, dann begleitete er sie aus dem Zimmer. Die Leute eilten vorbei und zielen auf die Notausgänge. Aber es gab immer noch keine Warnblinkleuchten, Sirenen oder zuvor aufgezeichnete Ansagen. Nur das Schieben und Schreien von chaotischer Flucht. Eine Frau knallte schwer in Yadav hinein und drehte sich dann weg - ihr Arzt. "Hey", rief Yadav nach. "Was ist mit Haddix passiert?" Sie rang mit ihren Fesseln und versuchte, sich von der Wache zu befreien und die Verfolgung aufzunehmen. Aber der Mann hatte einen festen Griff. Gemeinsam bewegten sie sich in die entgegengesetzte Richtung der anderen und schwammen den Strom der Menschen hinauf. "Weißt du nicht, dass man bei einem Brand keinen Aufzug benutzen darf?" fragte Yadav, als sie vor den Edelstahltüren anhielten. "Wir riskieren es", sagte er schroff. Sie nahmen den Aufzug über mehrere Stockwerke nach unten, aber nicht bis zum Erdgeschoss. Als sich die Türen öffneten, fragte sich Yadav, ob sie sich noch im selben Gebäude befand. Keine unberührten, weißen Wände hier. Kein Marmor oder Glas oder polierter Stahl. Nicht einmal eine einfache Trockenbauwand oder Holz. Nichts war fertig. Isolierung und Eisenstützen ragten aus den Wänden heraus. Einfache Glühbirnen mit Kettenschaltern, die an der Decke hängen. Die Türen waren aus Verbundwerkstoff - billiger Verbundwerkstoff dazu. Alle Luftkanäle waren in der Decke sichtbar, und die Böden waren mit antiquiertem Vinyl belegt. "Umgestalten?" fragte sie. Ein Mann in einem fadenscheinigen Anzug tauchte aus einem Raum auf. Er schien überrascht, eine Wache zu finden, die dort stand, einen Gefangenen in der Hand. "Hast du ein leeres Zimmer, in dem ich sie eine Weile unterbringen kann?" fragte Sato. Der Mann zeigte auf den Flur. " Vierundsiebzig B", sagte er unsicher. Rosa Isolierung, die zwischen den Balken des Raumes herausgepumpt wurde. Ein wackeliger Schreibtisch und zwei Stühle waren die einzige Einrichtung. Es gab nicht einmal einen Mülleimer, in dem man ein Feuer legen konnte. Nachdem er sie an einem Stuhl befestigt hatte, ging die Wache und meckerte vor sich hin. Yadavs erster Instinkt war es, wieder einmal zu entkommen. Das Schieben und Ziehen gegen die Bänder wäre sinnlos - sie hatte genug Gefangene mit blutigen Handgelenken gesehen, um es zu wissen. Sie könnte versuchen, die Anker gegen einen der Stützbalken zu feilen. .... Oder sie könnte einfach den schlecht gemachten Stuhl zerschlagen und aus der unverschlossenen Tür rennen. Wenn sie genau hinsah, konnte sie erkennen, dass die Tür durch einen einfachen Verschluss mit einem Knopf an Ort und Stelle gehalten wurde. Es gab nichts, was sie davon abhalten konnte, zu gehen, einen Stuhl, der an ihren Rücken gefesselt war oder nicht. Sie bemerkte einen Mangel an Staub in der Luft. Es gab keine Gipsdämpfe, Metallspäne oder Farben. Es liegen keine Baumaterialien herum. Keine Arbeiter, die einen Schläger machen. Das war kein Stockwerk im Übergang. Es fanden keine Renovierungsarbeiten statt. Der Boden war, was er war: beschissen. Sie hielt inne. Irgendwas war hier nicht in Ordnung. Die Wache hatte sie wie eine Irritation behandelt, nicht wie einen gefährlichen Verbrecher, der der Piraterie verdächtigt wurde. Tatsächlich gab es keine Anzeichen von Brandmeldern oder Feuerlöschergehäusen in der Decke. Ihr Zimmer in der Mediathek hatte keine Fehlfunktionen, es war einfach nicht so modern wie es aussah. Sogar weniger als das. Das ganze Gebäude musste eine verdammte Todesfalle sein. Selbst in den ärmsten Ländern hatte sie noch nie eine solche Regierungseinrichtung gesehen. Shoddily designed, shoddily constructed - Auf was für einem Hinterwäldlerplaneten war sie gelandet? Deshalb tat ihr Ellbogen weh, deshalb war Haddix tot. Sie hatten ihn nicht getötet, sie konnten ihm einfach nicht helfen. Sie wusste nicht, ob sie sich dadurch besser oder schlechter, verständnisvoller oder wütender fühlte. Meistens fühlte sie sich nur taub. Grüne Stempel auf den nackten Verstrebungen einer Wand fielen ihr auf. Ein Firmenlogo, bestehend aus einem Oval mit einem Pfeil hindurch. Das hatte sie kürzlich gesehen - auf einem Manifest. Das Logo gehörte einer der Firmen, die sie wegen Versicherungsbetrugs verdächtigt hatte. War es ein Zufall, oder hat sich ein Teil der Beute des Piraten auf den Planeten ausgebreitet? Dem Gouverneur war es wahrscheinlich egal, wo sie ihre Vorräte herbekommen hatte, besonders wenn sie eine solche Slapdash-Kunstfertigkeit genehmigt hatte. Sie wäre nicht die erste Politikerin, die die Augen vor der Herkunft von Billigwaren verschließt. Aber andererseits schien die Regierung mit den Piraten nicht befreundet zu sein. Vielleicht haben die Banditen alle Gegenstände entsorgt, die sie nicht bewegen konnten. Ein armer, fast leerer Planet könnte für eine gute Müllgrube sorgen. Die Bewohner hätten die Reste auffangen und sich alles aneignen können, was sie retten konnten. Sie wollte sich diese Shanties genauer ansehen. "Warum hast du sie hierher gebracht?" fragte eine Frau auf der anderen Seite der Tür. Es dauerte einen Moment, bis Yadav ihre Stimme platziert hatte. "Ich wollte sie in mein Büro bringen lassen, als sie aufwachte." Ah, der Gouverneur. "Ich verstehe", sagte die Wache, Mr. Sato. "Aber sie hat das Feuer in der Krankenstation gelegt. Es war ein Notfall. Ich brauchte einen Ort, an dem ich sie vorübergehend verstauen konnte. Angesichts ihrer zerstörerischen Natur rate ich Ihnen nicht, Ihr Verhör in Ihren Hauptsuiten durchzuführen." "Wir bringen sie in eine richtige Zelle", sagte die Stimme eines neuen Mannes. Er hielt seinen Ton gleichmäßig und ruhig, was es Yadav schwer machte, ihn aufzunehmen, selbst durch die dünnen Wände hindurch. Sie konnte nur Ausschnitte sehen. "Ich mag es, wenn ich.... zusammengesetzt bleibe. Aber ich glaube nicht, dass ich mir bewusst bin...." "Ich kann in ein paar Minuten ein Fahrzeug und eine Reihe von Männern bereit haben, um sie aus der Nähe zu begleiten", sagte Sato. "Danke", antwortete der Gouverneur. "Aber ich denke, es geht ihr gut hier. Wegtreten, Mr. Sato." "Jegliche Beweise.... und betäuben Sie sie, bis sie bewegt werden kann... mein Ratschlag", bestand der andere Mann darauf. "Bitte, Wei", sagte der Gouverneur flehentlich. "Du siehst hier nicht die Gelegenheit. Ist es nicht das, worauf wir gewartet haben? Ein Out? Eine Möglichkeit, der Piraterie ein Ende zu setzen?" "Du hörst mir nicht zu", bestand er darauf. "Nachrichtenleute... eigene Agenden... wollen Sensationslust. Blut, Blut, Blut, menschlicher Schmutz... sind nicht daran interessiert, jemandem zu helfen, sondern nur das Blutbad aufzuzeichnen." Yadav konnte nicht genau sagen, dass er sich irrte. Als Sie gleich zur Sache kamen, beherrschten Gier und Macht den menschlichen Zustand. Sie hatte diesen Schorf jahrzehntelang gepflückt, all die kleinen nässenden Teile freigelegt. Es war ihre Aufgabe, sich mit den Schrauben und Muttern einer Situation zu befassen, um herauszufinden, wie korrodiert sie werden würden. Sie war keine empfindliche, gefühlsbetonte Nachrichtensprecherin. Diebe und Lügner, wo immer du hingehst, dachte Yadav. Vielleicht war das der eigentliche Grund, warum sie den Menschen nie nahe kam, nie nach ihrem persönlichen Leben fragte. Unvermeidlich würden sie sie enttäuschen. "Wir müssen uns schützen", fuhr der Mann fort. "Sogar Singvögel werden uns die Augen aushacken, wenn ihr Nest bedroht ist", rezitierte er deutlich, als wäre es ein altes Sprichwort. "Unser Nest ist in Ordnung, Wei." "In Ordnung", gab er mit einem Seufzer zu. "Aber meiner Meinung nach ist es an der Zeit, den Eindringling zu blenden." wird fortgesetzt..... Breaking News: Ulla Yadav Suffocated in a Hospital by Her own Trash Fire. No One Noticed. Sharp pinpricks attacked her lungs with every breath. It felt like the inside of her throat was peeling. “Come on, you bastard,” she said through her hacking. “Don’t you smell that?” “How many times do I have to tell you to get back in bed?” “It’s on fire!” “Mr. Sato, sir — ” It was a second, female voice. “Something’s seeping from the bottom of the door.” Yadav imagined him crouching, sniffing. There were boots shuffling, and shouts, and a keypad beeping. She let a little smile of vindication creep onto her face, and stepped back. The door flew inward. Two medical personnel with extinguishers barreled past her. Behind them, two guards filled the doorway, leaving here with no chance of escape. Mr. Sato snatched Yadav’s wrist. “Call for an evacuation of the floor,” he told his colleague. To Yadav he said, “This isn’t nice behavior for a house guest.” “House guest? I thought I was under arrest,” she replied. He pulled another industrial zip tie from his vest pocket and secured her hands behind her back, then escorted her from the room. People rushed by, aiming for the emergency exits. But there were still no warning lights, or sirens, or pre-recorded announcements. Just the pushing and yelling of chaotic escape. A woman slammed heavily into Yadav, then spun away — her doctor. “Hey,” Yadav called after. “What happened to Haddix?” Wrestling with her restraints, she tried to break free of the guard and give chase. But the man had a firm grip. Together, they moved in the opposite direction of the others, swimming up the stream of people. “Don’t you know you’re not supposed to use an elevator during a fire?” Yadav asked as they stopped in front of the stainless-steel doors. “We’ll risk it,” he said gruffly. They took the lift several floors down, but not all the way to ground level. When the doors opened, Yadav wondered if she was still in the same building. No pristine, white walls here. No marble or glass or polished steel. Not even basic drywall or wood. Nothing was finished. Insulation and iron supports stuck out from the walls. Simple light bulbs with chain switches hung from the ceiling. The doors were composite — cheap composite at that. All of the air ducts were visible in the ceiling, and the floors were covered with antiquated vinyl. “Remodeling?” she asked. A man in a thread-bare suit emerged from one room. He seemed surprised to find a guard standing there, prisoner in hand. “Got an empty room I can stash her in for a while?” asked Sato. The man pointed down the hall. “Seventy-four B,” he said uncertainly. Pink insulation puffed out from between the room’s beams. A rickety desk and two chairs were the only furnishings. There wasn’t even a waste bin to start a fire in. After securing her to a chair, the guard left, grumbling to himself. Yadav’s first instinct was, once again, to escape. Pushing and tugging against the ties would be useless — she’d seen enough captives with bloody wrists to know. She could try filing the ties off, against one of the support beams. … Or she could just smash the poorly made chair, and run out the unlocked door. Peering closely, she could tell that the door was kept in place by a simple latch with a knob. There was nothing to stop her from walking out, chair tied to her back or no. She noted a lack of dust in the air. There were no plaster fumes, or metal filings, or paint. No building supplies lying around. No workmen making a racket. This wasn’t a floor in transition. No renovations were happening. The floor was what it was: crappy. She paused. Something was off here. The guard had treated her like an irritation, not a dangerous criminal suspected of piracy. Sure enough, there were no signs of fire detectors or extinguisher housings in the ceiling. Her room in the med bay hadn’t been malfunctioning, it simply hadn’t been as state-of-the-art as it appeared. Less than that, even. The whole building had to be a damn death trap. Even in the poorest nations, she’d never seen a government facility like this. Shoddily designed, shoddily constructed — What kind of a hick planet had she landed on? That’s why her elbow hurt, that was why Haddix was dead. They hadn’t killed him; they’d simply been unable to help him. She didn’t know if that made her feel better or worse, more understanding or more angry. Mostly she just felt numb. Green stamps on one wall’s naked bracings caught her eye. A company logo, composed of an oval with an arrow through it. She’d seen that recently — on a manifest. The logo belonged to one of the companies she’d suspected of insurance fraud. Was it a coincidence, or had some of the pirate’s booty made its way down to the planet? The governor probably didn’t care where she got her supplies, especially if she’d okayed such slapdash craftsmanship. She wouldn’t be the first politician to turn a blind eye to the origins of cheap goods. But then again, the government didn’t appear to be on friendly terms with the pirates. Perhaps the bandits dumped whatever items they couldn’t move. A poor, nearly-empty planet might make for a good garbage pit. The inhabitants could have scooped up the leftovers, appropriating all they could salvage. She wanted a closer look at those shanties. “Why did you bring her down here?” asked a woman on the other side of the door. It took a moment for Yadav to place her voice. “I was going to have her transported to my office when she awoke.” Ah, the governor. “I understand,” said the guard, Mr. Sato. “But she started the fire in the med bay. It was an emergency. I needed someplace to stash her temporarily. In light of her destructive nature, I do not advise you to conduct your interrogation in your main suites.” “We … transport her to a proper cell,” said a new man’s voice. He kept his tone even and quiet, which made it hard for Yadav to pick up, even through the thin walls. She could only catch snippets. “I like keeping … compound. But I don’t think … aware …” “I can have a vehicle ready in a few minutes, and a set of men to escort her from the vicinity,” said Sato. “Thank you,” replied the governor. “But I think she’s fine here. Dismissed, Mr. Sato.” “Any evidence … and sedate her until she can be moved … my advice,” insisted the other man. “Please, Wei,” the governor said imploringly. “You’re not seeing the opportunity here. Isn’t this what we’ve been waiting for? An out? A way to put an end to the piracy?” “You’re not listening to me,” he insisted. “News people … own agendas … want is sensationalism. Blood, gore, human filth … aren’t interested in helping anyone, just recording the carnage.” Yadav couldn’t exactly say he was wrong. When you got right down to it, greed and power ruled the human condition. She’d picked at that scab for decades, exposed all the little oozing bits. It was her job to get down to the nuts and bolts of a situation in order to expose how corroded they’d become. She wasn’t a touchy-feely kind of newscaster. Thieves and liars everywhere you go, Yadav thought. Perhaps that was the real reason why she never got close to people, never asked about their personal lives. Inevitably, they’d disappoint her. “We have to protect ourselves,” the man continued. “Even song birds will peck our eyes out when their nest is threatened,” he recited flatly, as though it were an old proverb. “Our nest is fine, Wei.” “All right,” he conceded with a sigh. “But, in my opinion, it’s time to blind the intruder.” to be continued … Links ----- No links available. Images ------ 1 image/jpeg [ ![](https://robertsspaceindustries.com/media/x3l6h1jdbgno8r/source/DatelineSesenFI3.jpg) ](https://robertsspaceindustries.com/media/x3l6h1jdbgno8r/source/DatelineSesenFI3.jpg) DatelineSesenFI3.jpg [Details](https://api.star-citizen.wiki/comm-links/images/1292) Last Modified 12 years ago Size 1.52 MB [Source](https://robertsspaceindustries.com/media/x3l6h1jdbgno8r/source/DatelineSesenFI3.jpg) [Info](https://api.star-citizen.wiki/comm-links/images/1292) Metadata -------- CIG ID 13594 Channel Undefined Category Undefined Series Dateline: Sesen Comments 57 Published 12 years ago (2014-02-28T00:00:00+00:00) [RSI Article](https://robertsspaceindustries.com/comm-link/serialized-fiction/13594-DATELINE-SESEN-Part-Five) [API](https://api.star-citizen.wiki/api/comm-links/13594)