Interlude From Kokojina
11 Apr 2018Namita Pear
Tyler almost falls off of the pleather sofa I've installed in the starboard aft break room, mostly because I'm frustrated and can't properly kick him off of it. "Get up, vidboy!" The young man I've hired to sit next to the fighter bay in my incomplete research vessel is pretty freaked out by my attitude, and in hindsight I have some regret for taking my frustration out on him. With a dataslate in one hand, he stumbles to his feet while I shoo him into the keel hallway. Some game or interactive dramedy continues to play on it while I whip him towards the rear gangplank.
"Agh, what are you doing, you hag-!" I recall actively swatting him now. With the two of us jogging down the ramp, he begs, "Stop it!"
A ground technician awaiting my orders eyes us with some bemusement as I finalize the contract between me and my crew-member. "Look, buddy," I say, "I can't take it anymore. Twenty thousand tonnes of cargo, and another five down at Lambda Arae! Sorry, we're done." A quick signature on my tablet and I can hear a notification pop up on Tyler's; he's been fired, though left a few hundred thousand credits richer. Not bad for a Barjavel Station urchin... he even got to fly the fighter a few times. Valuable experience when he gets around to buying his first Sidewinder. The technician scurries off with the usual unloading instructions, Tyler's left looking stupid on the pad while he decides on his next move, and I'm already taking a tram over to hotspot diner that all the truckers have squatted in when they need time away from their ships.
The man who refused to truck with me, Wade Alexander, is pretty easy to spot in his blue Remlock. He sits with a drunk, lonely man and turns with a bit of surprise to greet me.
"Oh, hey, Namita," he starts, all cute. "You're still top ten percent, I see. Add another digit an--"
I slap the terminal on the side of his table and pay for the meal (plus tip) before he can finish. It takes him aback. His friend is pretty mellow about it. "C'mon, Wade, I'm done. Let's go."
He has to jog to catch up to me in the bustling hallway. The polished metal floor reflects orange as I haven't even bothered to get out of my own flight-suit, choosing not to notice the glances I get from personnel and cargo pilots alike towards my still-donned helmet. "Hold up! Wait, fuck, hold on." I'm still walking with purpose towards Large Docking Pad Forty Two, where our poor excuse of a hauler has just finished having its hydrogen topped off. The Anaconda is paper-thin and feather-light, drafted straight from a Faulcon DeLacy workspace to be a research and expedition vessel. She is hollowed out and, until the stevedores are finished, packed to the brim with four hundred tonnes of superconductors.
"Wait, you went to Lambda Arae?"
I had just gotten back, and rounded off my deliveries to the Privateer's Alliance to a total of 20,000 tonnes before docking here; apparently I explained this to him by the time we had reached the docking bay, and he was now shocked as he urged me to keep explaining. "Yeah," I finally reply, "I did."
"But that's where all the truckers are. You said you wanted to help out here! And what about the pirates?"
"Well, there was one. He never dropped in to take a donation, though..."
We stand by the rear landing legs of our Anaconda, ID NEBULA. We have to wait until several more cargo-movers are done with the haulage until we can board. Wade struggles to converse and deal with my sudden desire to stop staring at the same boring, non-interactive scenery over and over again (and never once mentions the irony,) but fills me in on his time in the Coriolis. Several unionized truckers, independent commanders, and even people claiming to represent various groups solicited him; evidently, some people do read these. Furthermore, he's spent his time wisely drafting destinations and priorities for us to tackle before our next big 'deep dive' as he's been inclined to describe it.
But, I'm just smiling when we finally get the go-ahead to board, and the smugness stays on me even as the elevator takes us to the bridge. Not yet, says I, because I'm tired and need new things to look at. I don't want to jump into an expedition immediately, and I know we've spent far too little time in the bubble itself. So, a vacation is in order.
We go down the list of permits we've fellated the Federation for, and that the Empire bribed us with; they're honestly pretty worthless past Sol. Beta Hydri, at least, gives us a tourist beacon and a delighftul sunset.
We stop at the cradle of the galactic community, Lave. Rather spectacular that they really are broadcasting their radio station from a Sidewinder, too. Rock on, Second Technician Forrester.
While we gallivanted across the stars a little bit, we also made connections of our own. This shot was taken on the way to Luyten's Star, to do some NDA work for the Sirius Corporation. I'm happy to say I've since landed on Lucifer.
Phedippides never dropped dead and Athens didn't need a messenger at all.
We even saw the sun rise over the Founder's World.
The Founder's World... god. Elite. It's such a joke to me. Handing me that title for just seeing a few nebulae that I thought were pretty. The only thing christening Wade and I as 'Elite' has done, Pilot's Federation, is give me a desire to prove I deserve it. I don't think our next little jaunt 'south' of the bubble will do it, not by a long shot.
But I have plans.
It's been a good day or two since we mothballed our Anaconda, pending further construction, and slipped back into our YIAH. We've filled the intervening moments with as much tourism as we could, seeing all that I could think of and trying our best to make friends along the way. Whether they be factions, pilots, or pirates, I don't want it to be said that I fail to return a salute. Supposedly, some of you people reading this enjoy my company, and might even say hi if you saw me (all the more reason to keep my ship's contact info under alias) and one day I hope to help you just as I've helped so many others... that you're not slowly dying in your life-pods doesn't make a difference to me. Drop me a line if you want, but you're not getting a stripper-gram any time soon.
Quite a bit would have to happen between now and Sunday for my next entry to be about anything less than our upcoming trip. We sit in Ali Ring now and, while we're still settling things and ironing out the details, we already have Wade's itinerary and have upgraded our jump drive to match. A 52LY range, unladen, should carry us along much faster than previous efforts... useful, as the distances have also gone up. I leave you with our destinations:
- Jellyfish Nebula
- Monkey's Head
- Rosette Nebula
- Seagull Nebula
- Statue of Liberty Nebula
- Eta Carina Nebula
- Cat's Paw Nebula
- Lagoon Nebula
- Triad Nebula
- Traikaae AA-A H2
- Traikeou AA-A H2
- NGC 6820
- Crescent Nebula