Cmdr Gaz Ubermick
Role
Wanderer / Mercenary
Registered ship name
Millennium Budgie
Credit balance
-
Rank
Elite V
Registered ship ID
Cobra Mk IV GAZ-17
Overall assets
-
Squadron
Brutal Deluxe
Allegiance
Independent
Power
Nakato Kaine

Logbook entry

Personal Log 23.12.08 // Home Is Where the Hartsfield Is.

23 Dec 2022Gaz Ubermick
+// Log Entry Start

+// [Date: 23.12.3308]
+// [Location: Cavendish Ring, Lugh]


As per usual, the "Hyperspace Dethrottle Engaged" message caused my lunch to almost exit through my bellybutton. Although admittedly today it wasn't just horrifically disobeying the laws of physics that had me fluttering a bit, it was my destination.

Home.

After my meeting with Fergus last month in Iah Bulu, I'd promised to stop by Cavendish and drop in on his mother Elanor who'd been poorly of late. She'd just turned 100 last week and I had a little present for her, in addition to the small stash of progenitor cells I said I'd pass on. The woman was like a second mother to me, raising me on Hartsfield after my own mam and dad died. When Fergus told me how worried he was despite the fact that she's still comparatively middle aged (sure that bag Torval is pushing 150 at this point) I couldn't say no. Of course it had nothing to do with the fact that Fergus' sister Bridget was on-station as well. Not at all.

After I'd docked the Roisín Dearg, stopping to admire that stygian red again (hate to leave, but love to watch her as I walk away!) I made a beeline for the hab ring. The second I docked, I'm sure that parasite Quentin Fuchs got wind of my arrival, and I'd keenly love to avoid seeing him. Still can't believe he's tasked with running the station - the only running he was ever good for was running away during the war. But of course the luck of the Irish is just a myth, and he was waiting for me by the lifts.

A cringe-filled ride followed, during which all he did was hold his hand out begging for money and the only way to shut him up was to make several "donations" to help the Crimsons out. I got off at Elanor's floor 8 million credits poorer, making sure to tell him that this also covered Elanor's rent for 3309. "Of course Gaz, of course. Elanor's part of the family here, and I'll make sure she's taken care of." Yeah, right. I got off the lift wondering how much of that would be left over after Quentin took his cut, and how much would actually help those less well off in Cavendish. As the saying goes around here "Thank Lámhfhada there's only one of him, because Quentin couldn't give two Fuchs." Before the doors closed, I stuck my head back in and reminded him to make sure a full receipt for my donation was sent to the ship before I left, smiling inwardly as the look of glee dropped immediately from his sour puss.

Hahaha, point for Ubermick. Sometimes it's the little victories.

Elanor was in great form, and I think Fergus' worries were misplaced. I lied through my teeth and told her that her son was doing great things in Iah Bulu, and that he'd be running one of the stations most likely in 3309. She smiled and listened to my guff, before getting to the meat of the matter, the way all Lughian mammies do. "Why've you not settled down yet, Gaz? (Ahh now, Auntie Elanor) Sure you'd make a great administrator yourself, didn't Éamonn want you to help out after Independence? (Ahh I can't, Auntie Elanor I'm needed elsewhere and I never met the man) I remember when you lived here you'd have had your pick of the girls for marriage. (Ahh, stop Auntie Elanor) Are you not eating enough? Sure you're only skin and bones. You'll stay for dinner, won't you, a I've a stew going with real animal meat and vegetables. (Ahh no, I'm grand, I've to get back to the war) Ahh that's a shame, Bridget is coming over on the shuttle from Hartsfield later, and would love to see you."

Have to admit, perked up a bit at that. And she was over on Hartsfield too. Hmm.

But I made my excuses. I'd reminded her that humanity is in a galactic fight for survival, and in true form she brushed it off as media nonsense, the news feeds scaremongering as usual and sure the Thargoids were surely not as bad as they were made out to be.

I wished she was right.

Anyways, I fed the units of progenitor cells into her little med unit while she busied herself about her hab, and said my goodbyes. Before I went, I made sure to give her the bottle of Centauri Mega Gin I'd picked up on Hutton last week running those presents out. Her eyes lit up like the proverbial Christmas trees, and for a minute my heart was lifted. Like I said, sometimes it's the little victories.

"What do you want for Christmas, Gaz?"

"A bit of peace, Auntie Elanor. Just a bit of peace."

+// Log Entry Ends
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