Roll an O and see where I Go...
28 May 2021Lnewlfe
I slam my hand against the top of the comm terminal, watching the ancient screen flicker, then come back to life. Seems no matter the era, some fixes always work. The terminal is tucked away in an abandoned section of the Coriolis port, the dark and gloomy ghetto. Abandoned is the wrong word, for there is life here, but at what cost? “Stop drifting, stay focused,” I need to tell myself, the tiredness seeping into my brain, the chems not working. The terminal is a gold mine for my purposes, its ability to connect to GalNet is still functional, yet the security systems are so old, they might as well not exist. Hacking into the Pilots Federation, I get access to Inara, and scan the other pilot’s files, their logbooks. No reason, not anymore. I went good, right? I’m a miner, now. Bought myself a little Keelback, the Billygoat. Trying to earn a living, carving it out of space rock. Making a living…
A woman’s logbook catches my eyes. A smuggler. Had an issue with a load of slaves, unexpected. My eyes light up. Fucking a merc, eh? Dangerous job...ah, should've read farther, damn didn't make it, poor girl…
A smuggler. The lowest form of criminal, to most pilots and citizens. Lower than even a pirate. Less...honor? Ha, no that isn't the right term. Bringing poison and killing contraptions to those the governments say can't have it. Bringing fellow beings to be used, fucked, worked to death, against their will. Are these the only reasons the smuggler is viewed so low? No there are more. There are always more. But I am only a miner now…
The woman’s story stuck in my mind, I cover up the terminal with surrounding garbage, scrap steel. Can't have some poor homeless ripping it up for parts to sell, these terminals are getting harder to find, can't be traced. Time for some fun, spend these creds before I'm gone.
“You need to make some friends, buddy ol boy. Can't be alone like this, you're clean now, remember? You can make some decent friends, not need to look over your shoulder anymore. Fuck man, at least so you don't need to talk to yourself anymore…”
“Gotta snap out of this. Can't lose your mind, not now. Time to roll an O, see where I go.” The o-head joint sparks up, the smoke curling as I walk toward the local bar. Some hole in the wall. Sirens go off, blocks away.
Inside the bar, women are dancing on the stage, shaking and moving like snakes, trying to lose themselves to the music, forget their life, where they went wrong. I don't blame them. I saddle up to the bar, get a glass of the local swill. Not worth exporting, this shit. Miners sit beside me, talking business, getting drunk, excited, talking loose. I should warn them to shut their mouths, keep their money on the down low. Pirates lurk in these joints, watching these men, ready to pounce. I slip off into the corner, watching the locals. A group of smugglers sit at one table, looking over their shoulders towards the door, waiting for the pigs. A group of mercs sit by themselves, dressed nice, must be successful. The pirates, well, you don't know which one here are the pirates, but they know who you are, what your worth. I’ve sat in their places, I’ve played their games. Where do I fit in, I don't know anymore.
This is the Smuggler's Den, the hole in the wall. This is where the underworld moves and breathes.
I get up, quickly looking at the faces in the crowd, looking for the one who is a little too excited in me, not seeing them, and head back to my ship. I need to sleep. I need….no don’t get into that.
(OOC)
Thanks for reading my first post. Any smugglers, well, any role player interested in a back and forth, drop me a message, we can meetup and chat. Police, the underworld, miners, let me know! A big thanks and shout out to Kyndi the badass chick, one of the greatest E:D loggers that I have followed for years...