This post is an installment of Friday Flash Fiction - something that is run by Ecliptic Rift. Here is this weeks prompt: "This week, we turn our attention to the Syndicate region.“Formed by a handful of Intaki exiles in the wake of the first Caldari-Gallente war, the Syndicate today runs a thriving region of the same name on the fringes of Gallente space, providing a useful haven for less savory Federal citizens and outright outlaws. Denied the right to colonize planets in the region, the Syndicate instead operates exclusively from its network of autonomous stations, each of which is run by a station manager who is undisputed master of his own fief.” Here is my submission. I hope you enjoy.
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"They say you can run but you can't hide. I say fuck running, and I say fuck hiding too."
Alehandra's Hulk pulled into station along Jamal's Orca. Disengaging from her pod she made her way off the ship. "Get these unloaded and into my storage." She gestured to both ships as she talked to Neelan. "Just the ore and the salvage, leave the drones and the crystals. The dock worker nodded. Alehandra started to walk away when Neelan called out to her. "Hey, there was someone here earlier looking for you."
Alehandra froze, turning around slowly. She was not used to unexpected visitors. "Who?" was all she could manage to ask. Her face a blank mask trying to cover the apprehension dancing in her eyes.
"I don't remember his name. Some Gallente, Harke-something I think. Said he had some news about your sister Illyena. He said he'd be around the station and he'd just track you down later." Neelan cocked his head slightly to one side, "
Alehandra turned and started to walk away muttering under her breath. "That was a long time ago."
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