From Hutton, with love.
09 Feb 2023Merrick Reade
09 Feb 3309Well, it's been a while. If I'm being honest, I had forgotten about this logbook until just a few days ago, after coming home from my friend's funeral and digging into a box of mementos he had to commemorate our adventures. I figured I'd actually pull this thing out and start using it, for once.
Things have been pretty uncertain lately, what with the Thargoid War in full swing, and inching ever closer to the Bubble. The exploratory plans I discussed in my previous log have been placed on indefinite hold. As long as there's a chance of being hyperdicted, there's no way I can safely make it out of the bubble and on the long road to Beagle Point. So in the meantime, I've been helping out where I can locally. All of my ships have been shipped (pun not intended) back home to Sol. Abraham Lincoln Starport, to be exact. It's been my home since I was born, so it's only fitting that I use it as my base of operations for now.
How've I been helping, you ask? Mainly dealing with low-level bounties that pop up around Sol and the surrounding systems. If people can't feel safe in the heart of our territory, how will they ever be able to relax? Thargoids knocking at the front door, and thieves lockpicking their way into the back. Needless to say, work has been plentiful for myself and From Hutton With Love. That's the name I chose for my Anaconda, of course. After making the arduous journey to pick her up from Hutton Orbital, it was only fitting that I honor the station in her name. She's a beauty of a ship. Right now, I have her painted matte black. Harder to detect in the shadows, that way. But when I'm doing more... civilized tasks, like passenger or supply runs, I take off the matte scheme and let her beautiful galvanized malachite color shine through. It's something else entirely, to come out of hyperspace and see the reflection of a B-type star glittering off her hull.
System authority seems to get a kick out of her name, too. Especially when they run her registry number: 021-LY. There's always a bit of silence on comms when I identify her to them, as if they're not sure I was lucky enough to have that registry accepted by the Pilot's Federation. Heck, I'm pretty sure I even saw a rookie taking some holoimages of the nameplate on a routine inspection a few weeks ago. Funny how even though they maintain that stoic, steadfast, strict demeanor, that they're still able to crack at something as simple as my ship's name.
Oh, I almost forgot to log something. Just the other day. I was entering a tourist's hostel in LHT 200 and was stopped by another CMDR by the name Steven Dengler. He offered me a few thousand credits to perform his post-flight inspection. Seemed to be in a real hurry to get in out of the cold. We were on a pretty distant ice heap of a moon, so it was understandable. I, with my top of the line Atlas flightsuit, wasn't even chilly. And of course, who am I to pass up an opportunity to earn a few thousand credits for a little bit of walking and jetpacking?
I inspected the landing gear and undercarriage first, and found nothing out of the ordinary. I moved on to the top of his Orca to continue the inspection, when all of a sudden I heard the drives spooling up. My heart sank all the way to the core of that tiny moon in that instant, and I held on to the maintenance panel in front of me for dear life. It was only after the Orca had made it about five hundred meters off the ground that he began slowing his ascent. I'd left my handheld communication device sitting on the bridge of From Hutton, and so was unable to try and raise him on frequency. Luckily, I'd done my research on the ice heap before arriving, and recalled reading that gravity here was only 0.07% of that on Earth. Knowing this, I let go of the maintenance panel and quickly gave a short burst from my pack, which safely pushed me away from the Orca as it spooled up it's FSD. I was able to quickly snap a photo of the offender's vessel, in hopes that System Authority might be able to do something later on, possibly charge him with Reckless Flying or something of the like.
I saved every bit of fuel in my pack that I had left, and activated it about twenty meters from the ground. I also activated my shield at that time and was able to walk away without a scratch. I marched straight into the hostel and gave the bartender a hefty tip for the strongest drink she could muster up. Ended up staying with her that night. Don't remember much, except she was mighty upset when I left the next morning. I got back into the From Hutton and remember seeing her running down the concourse toward my ship. Who knows, maybe I'll go back soon for a second date.
As I dictate this log, I'm heading to Tollan. I have a lot of refinery and mining equipment stationed there in one of their starports, and I'm running a little low on credits. Need to start searching for some LTDs or VOs if I'm going to get back to Felicity's camp and upgrade some more of From Hutton's primary systems.
Until next time.
