Relax, you're amongst friends...

For fear of the repercussions and of Amarrian intelligence tracking me down I laid a fairly obvious trail to the Bleaklands where I went to ground. I hooked up with Vincent the only person I knew in the region that I trusted. He was flying with an organisation called Ghost Festival, affiliated to the Angel Cartel. It seemed a perfect place to hide out for a short time, unlikely to give me up to the Amarrians. We met up in a bar called Skyhook with his wing mates. For some reason I found myself spilling my guts, laying my soul bare to them. They were surprisingly supportive, which is just what I needed. I felt it wasn't a good idea to hang about, I didn't want to bring an unwanted heat down on them. I headed back to Branch and lost myself in the anonymity of outlaw space.