Boulevard Of Broken Dreams
24 Jan 2020Rex-Cramer
I’ve been sitting at the bar staring into this glass for longer than I’d like to admit. It’s been a busy time lately and I find sometimes my mind is just going on ‘pause’ now and then. The squadron I’m with has been needing help in several combat zones to hold onto assets and it’s been rather daunting keeping up with it. A guy starts to wonder after the last dozen kills if maybe he’s losing any grip on humanity he once had. It’s a ship exploding, but then you consider the number of faces behind it and it gets depressing. But it’s work, it pays enough to keep the lights on and I guess as long as people keep fighting over stuff the work will be steady. What’s really been a kick in the teeth though is the market situation for a mining company like mine. Sitting here I’ve now heard at least ten stories of going bust after the madness over minerals finally came to a halt. Fortunately I had not been caught out with a load but prices have fallen through the floor and many are at a complete loss on how to handle the new dynamics. Being fair, it’s a hell of an adjustment. going from one hundred million to ten million per load is going to wad up some panties. That included some within my investors too.
I’ve been acquiring some more assets of late and it’s cutting into cash somewhat heavily. When the news on the mineral market hit several of my investors had a fit. They were sure there was no other way than to liquidate the business and pull out. It took me hours of feather stroking to calm them down. We were still making millions per run and while the returns will not be what they once were per engine hour they were still far better than they were going to do hauling food and fabric around. We have a pretty big mining machine and even platinum in our quantities pays double-digit millions. It’s pure profit and we’ve got lots of contacts and reputation so we can get good money and good contracts to boot. God, I could not have gotten my license and ship without them, but managing this heard of cats wears on a mans soul sometimes.
One commander was telling the story of losing his ship to pirates and facing the 7 million needed for his insurance but not having it. Wishing his pod had just failed instead of being back at the mercy of the pilots federation. He had just bought the mining gear and brought in a load of void opals only to find that they weren’t selling. In desperation to find a station buying for a worthwhile price he got interdicted and like a damn fool tried to run. Lost his load, his ship and everything else on that gamble. Others had leveraged all their other operations on the money mining was bringing in and so they are in a hell of a bind now that returns are much lower.
We all will have to adjust I suppose. I always knew it was coming. No fad lasts forever and this lasted longer than I expected but now our policy to limit fleet bloat and try to keep outfitting expenses as low as possible is paying off. I’ve had to let a few people go though. With the reduced returns we can’t as easily wave away the percentages demanded. I had to cut my third pilot, Karoline, loose. Truth told she just wasn’t working anyway. Felt bad, but she took it well enough and I'm sure she can find a ship where she's a better fit. Maybe it’s just being back in the bubble but there is a creeping sense of depression is building up here. I’m hoping that things turn for the better in the days ahead.
As I down my latest Jack-n-Coke (yeah, it’s not ‘coke’) I feel a hand on my shoulder. It’s Kayley with that worried but forced cheerful look.
“Hey, that buddy of yours sent a message from Witch Head. Sounds like they could use some help out there”.
“Like help out now kinda help”, I asked? She said, “Seemed like it”.
I sigh, “Guess better days will need to wait”.
She cocks her head a bit pondering that, then asks “Hey, you stopping by before you leave. Looks like you could use a coffee or five”?
I looked up from glass, “Yeah… Yeah I guess I am. Would you message Edwin and have him meet me in Icarus in a couple hours? I probably don’t need to be flying right now, right”?
She nodded and smiled and walked out with a quick glance back over her shoulder to see if I was still standing. I pulled my jacket on, straightened it out and stood still in that best “I’m not drunk” pose I could muster and then slowly and deliberately made my way to the exit.
Time to make the donuts.
-CMDR R. Cramer