DataCube Dismay Pt.1

Generic time zone greeting Dominion citizens. Welcome to The Archivist. You join me now as I sit at the Emperor's Blessing in Lightreach Mission, enjoying something I could replace for fuel on my jets. I'm currently watching the clip of Artimis Zins' best moment in my opinion. For those not connected to the Protostar Communications DTS- Data Transfer Service - then news of this moment may have come with a more sombre tone. The Exiles have destroyed the entire reason why this landing site was chosen. We have lost the Data Cube at Star Comm Station.  Sometimes the news can change from broadcaster to broadcaster but here with the Archivist, I've apparently got involved with one of the Dominion's most broadcasted, and strategically central mission.  So I can walk you through first-hand what happened.

Zin had gotten into range of the main transmission area. Unfortunately for them, they hadn't bargained on it's interference, so their last transmission  sounded like a cross between cries of joy and that of pain. Despite how I felt about this whole situation I ended up helping.  Riff-Raff here, decided he would scan some rocks. What he didn't transmit was that he was leaving me behind and to wait for me to catch up. To be honest it was probably just a matrix glitch and his programming went haywire but you appreciate the story don't you listeners...Don't think I've forgotten about you techhies. I'm still coming for you!

Since my scanner had been calibrated to Riff-Raff I had hardly any local radar. His signal appeared in my hand crafted Occuli Augmented Hud. It's the red eye patch for those that see that video that got me here. Or perhaps the mass marketing that this is surely getting...*cough*. The signal's arrows pinged for microns.  It was difficult with one eye on that, and one eye trying not to get killed by the wildlife. After I had caught up, I had found that he had latched onto a signal himself - an Eldan Transmitter. Of course I was able to fix it. Zin of course, thanked me in her thankless way. Glamoured with celebrity lingo. I might as well talk to the disembodied head of a Mechari. That or a voice mail.  I'm not disrespecting the Mechari, their voice is mechanically generated, it is naturally sterile. Just like her personality.  So when she asked me to come up to the main transmitter and help out myself, I should have guessed she forgot to disconnect from my transmission and was talking to someone else. It's a long walk to get here I can tell you. Little legs, little feet. Remind me to save for an Orbitron. So anyway I was approaching...O.K. Tech guys, you've got someone else joining you in top spot for surprising and torture filled deaths. The engineer that designed this Omni-Plasm conversion matrix. Hold on let me see if...