Our ship is a ghost vessel that barely sails the seas. It is a floating island that is carried away by the current and only the main engine with its propellers give it impulse. Navigation of a day and a half turns into three days, but we sail, which is the important thing. Even the sailors had nicknamed the ship the Flying Dutchman, and it had stayed that way.
You couldn't touch a structure on deck, otherwise, it would fall apart. The cargo systems barely worked with tangles and the navigation system worked with the NFU, and so we sailed, we stood up for the company, despite the little payment we received with delay.
We can not say who sentenced us, if the company or the captain with the chief engineer, only step, made the decision that made us what we are. Ten years ago we sailed from one port to another port, the preparations were normal for us, even though the engine had its many defects. We sailed under the stars for two days towards an arid land with no signal, by the grace of God, if we could do without help in case of a tragedy.
The atmosphere was tense, and the whole crew was against the trip, but what could we do? Orders are orders and we, like lambs delivered to the slaughter, complied. The decision was to reach our destination and load the product, it seemed simple, but that task meant losing two months without communication with the world, 60 days or more in which we could not hear from our children or our wives, or anything that happened in our daily lives.
Now we are one entity, we live and think as one, we work as one and we sail the seas as one. There is no captain, no sailors, no cadets. There is only the wandering ship at sea. And we are attracted by life, by people, and above all by news from the outside world. So, we go in pursuit of that. We are anchored in this cursed spot, sailing in this doomed area. Without knowing how it happened, only that it happened and that we cannot sink, no matter how badly the hull is damaged or how much the machine squeaks. Those who were once human now give life to this ship that single-handedly goes after the others.
We are not pirates, we are not terrorists, we are an entity of the sea that wants news. That snatches like to know about the world. We board ships, be they sailboats or merchant's vessels, be they fishing boats. And we seize their memories, their experiences and we make them one with the vessel. We do not care if they fear us, if they talk about us in their homes and pray their five Hail Marys, no one can avoid us. Once you enter our zone, we detect it and go after it. Some escape and tell with dread in their villages and towns, in their cities.
We know, we know that we are well known. Their memories are with us, their memories move our propeller and maneuver our rudder...