War and Separation

10.22.114
Pator, Pator, Paiho.

Quarantine. Placed in a quarantine by these savages. And Mata knows why, but she will not say. They bring us food each day, but we do not see them. I feel as though I am being held captive, and Mata is now suffering because of me. Every time I think of it I feel my blood rising, as the winds oustide remind me that these minmatar see me as the enemy - a hated caldari. It has rained since I arrived, though my only indication of this is a single strong window in my prison.
While not uncomfortable, especially as far as prisons go, indeed it is quite comfortable, it is still a prison.

And I do not like prisons.

Meanwhile, my neocomm tells me that H-W, along with thirteen other systems in Tribute, have fallen to the forces of the CFC in a single, sweeping op that laid waste to most of the region.

And I'm here. In a cage.

I came here to see Mata -  now I feel as if I've made a mistake.

I hate prisons.