PythoNexus Business Liner
02 Jun 2023Ryuko Ntsikana
PythoNexus Business Liner
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I must admit, I had a soft spot for that region and all its eccentricities. The constant bickering between factions provided endless entertainment. But while on board my ship, they knew better than to bring their personal feuds on board. My policies were clear: it was all business, and no personal grudges were allowed. If anyone dared to cross that line, they would find themselves taking an involuntary nap for the duration of the flight. It was my way of maintaining peace and tranquility.
However, these factions always found a way to get around my rules. They would send their sub-contractors to interdict me, hoping to disrupt my plans and maybe even make a quick profit. Little did they know, their attempts only added to the excitement and my profit.
On my third journey, two such attempts were made nearly back-to-back. The first one I dragged to a nearby planet, where I dropped under the orbital zone line while remaining in supercruise. While I would not get their bounty by doing this I did get the privilege of watching their interdictor lock onto the largest gravitational source in front of them, which was the planet, and their signal flash downwards before disappearing. The crater hitting the planet at near the speed of light must have been impressive. Aside from the planet, I wonder what the last thing through that pilot’s mind was?
The second one was not as bright, but their bounty I did take. The system my clientele was going to was a controlled system, ergo there were plentiful security services flying about. All I had to do was keep the idiot entertained long enough for them to join in. While my Python had more than ample firepower to make short work of them, I wanted the sport, and thus toyed with them. Making passes and dropping their shields, then boosting away until their shields were rebuilt then reversing to repeat the process until the security ships appeared, and finished them off. I got the bounty and they got the escape pod, a solid win-win.
To commemorate these memorable encounters, I made digital copies of the engagements and offered them as parting gifts to my clients. They could now share their thrilling experiences with others, and maybe even brag about their near-death encounters. One of the clients, who turned out to be a regional media salesman, saw the potential and tried to convince me to commercialize my services. But I politely declined, as expanding my reach wasn't my main goal. I was content with my solid reputation in the factions I dealt with, and I preferred to keep a low profile in regions I had no interest in.
This wasn’t my full-time job and I politely declined. My reputation was solid with all of the factions within my purview, and I wasn’t looking to branch out to regions I had no interest in. If I wanted to build a reputation in a new region, there were easier less obtrusive ways to do it than make a commercial.
My time scavenging the planets for escape pods always netted cargo, that wasn’t necessarily valuable in the monetary sense, but given enough sales and the buyers would take notice. It was the same reason I would hang onto bounty payouts when I felt it was necessary. A quick way to boost reputation was by proving you were the solution to their problems. Combine those two with a little exploration data, and you could become allied quickly.
I decided to stay the evening onboard my Python. My quarters weren’t as large, but it was equally plush, not that I went in for that type of thing. I wouldn’t say no to comfort, and this comfort had been well-earned. Besides, I had some additional transportable items to sell to their local bartender, who was also the front for the station’s personnel market. This could be combined with other ways to increase reputation if so desired.
After waking up, I ordered a meal from my onboard Android master chef and proceeded to refresh myself. By the time I was cleaned and changed, a delicious meal with juice and coffee awaited me. Wanting to catch up on the local news in a more traditional way, I turned on the monitor in my quarters and settled in to watch the local talking heads babble about this, that, and the other.
But halfway through my meal, I nearly choked as the first commercial that aired was a clip of my encounter with the interdicting ships from the previous day. It seemed that the salesman had taken it upon themselves to create a Pythonexus Business Liner commercial using the footage I had provided as a parting gift. Their tactic was clear—they wanted to drum up lucrative business for me in the hopes that I would see the value in their services and purchase a full package, earning them a hefty commission.
Little did they know that their plan had backfired. The last thing I wanted was notoriety and having my exploits plastered all over the media. I preferred to maintain a low profile and operate on my own terms. If I wanted to expand my business or enhance my reputation, I was perfectly capable of doing so in a more subtle and less flashy manner. I didn't need every wannabe pirate in the region to develop delusions of grandeur over my adventures.
With my plans for the day changed by the unexpected commercial, I made my way back to my ship and settled into the pilot's seat. As I requested clearance for departure, my inbox started to fill up with unread messages. It seemed that the commercial had sparked some interest and inquiries from potential clients. I wasn't sure if I should be excited or overwhelmed by the sudden influx of messages.
Curiosity got the best of me, and I opened one of the messages at random. It turned out to be a simple and straightforward request from a group of tourists who were heading to a system adjacent to where my carrier was currently stationed. They were willing to pay a hefty sum of thirteen million credits for me to transport sixty of their members to a planetary establishment. The offer caught my attention, especially considering that my previous day's missions had earned me a total of only twenty-seven million credits. This single trip could potentially net me half of that amount. It seemed like an opportunity too good to pass up.
Without hesitation, I canceled my departure request and promptly replied to the message. I informed them that if they could assemble their party within the next hour, my ship would be ready to transport them to their desired destination. To my surprise, a swift response came through, stating that they would be waiting at the docking pad within the next thirty minutes. I quickly verified their background with the local security services to ensure they had a clean record, at least as far as the authorities knew. It was clear that someone with such a large group and an urgent need for transport must have either an ulterior motive or deep pockets.
Fortunately, it turned out to be the latter. If it had been the former, I would have declined the request. While I had my own methods of building reputation and choosing my missions, I also reserved the right to make decisions about whom to assist, defend, or simply ignore. Thankfully, everything went smoothly, and the transport mission turned out to be a success for all parties involved; dumb luck on my part.
This did not mean I was going to jump in with the media salesman. Their act, though benign, cost me potential trade credits. Though it more than made up for it by a fluke of galactic fate, still, it was too underhanded for my taste.
By the time the side hustle was completed, I returned to the carrier to re-equip for a change of pace, or at least until the media hype wore off and I could get back to doing things on my own terms.