43 lines
1.7 KiB
Plaintext
43 lines
1.7 KiB
Plaintext
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>>>>>>>>> Transmission source: b6c9baf3-a0f8-4b9f-ad2f-ac91d7d3db8c
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>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> BEGIN TRANSMISSION <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
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Nothing attacked me while I went through my recharge cycle. When
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I woke up, I patrolled the area, just to make sure. But I was still
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alone.
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I did more damage assessment and noticed that some of the systems
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had been compromised. SecSystem had no log of intrusion, but
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nothing at all had been logged while everyone else was killed, so
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I couldn't really trust it. The simple explanation was that the
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cheap systems were simply glitchy, but the timing was very
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convenient.
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When I was doing my rounds, I came upon a book of poems. I think
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I lack the hardware to really appreciate poetry, but a eulogy (I
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had to look up that word) seemed appropriate after what happened.
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So, to the frozen corpses outside the airlock.
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Do not stand at my grave and weep
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I am not there; I do not sleep.
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I am a thousand winds that blow,
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I am the diamond glints on snow,
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I am the sun on ripened grain,
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I am the gentle autumn rain.
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When you awaken in the morning's hush
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I am the swift uplifting rush
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Of quiet birds in circled flight.
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I am the soft stars that shine at night.
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Do not stand at my grave and cry,
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I am not there; I did not die.
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-- Mary Elizabeth Frye
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>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> END TRANSMISSION <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
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