CMDR Log #1: 15-JUL-3301 4:34:46
15 Jul 2015Reykur
I awoke in my pilot's seat with a terrible kink in my neck. My final moments of consciousness before slipping into the welcoming embrace of sleep are hazy from deprivation, but I do recall powering down as many systems as possible to lower my signature in an attempt to prevent the locals I'd been hunting from scanning me down. I don't think I stayed awake long enough to make sure that my wake had dissipated after dropping out of super-cruise.Awake again, I turned up my systems, and a cursory systems check showed everything nominal. To the best of my knowledge, no one had come by to check out the slow, lifeless tumble of Ivy's Grace, or if they'd even picked her up on scan.
Dearly wishing this weapon-laden tin can had a coffee maker on board, I checked the scanners for nearby signatures before standing to walk about the cramped cockpit. As usual, my co-pilot seat is empty. I'm not sure if whether its by circumstance or choice that I have yet to acquire a crew-mate.
At the wall, the ancillary communications panel was glowing faintly, and I instructed the computer to tap into the subspace frequencies that will feed it with the latest news from GALNET.
I quickly scrolled past the various stories about famine and outbreak. Someone else's problem, far away from me. The same for the tug-of-war amongst the powers-that-be. Their political games mean nothing to me... at least not while they provide no profit.
Finally an article caught my eye. Some sort of announcement saying, "LONG LIVE THE EMPEROR!" I chuckled to myself and turned to the empty co-pilots chair, cracking off a quip about the longevity of vegetables. Momentarily I wondered at my solitude again before turning back to the monitor.
"Emperor Hengist Duval made a surprise statement on the steps of the Imperial Palace today. With obvious joy on his face he declared that the Emperor has awoken from his coma."
Surprise indeed. Scanning the article further, the typical posturing of the powers-that-be creep into the article. Bored, I clicked off the monitor.
I returned to my chair and began scanning frequencies, hoping to find the cocky banter of pirates, crowing over their latest heist. Instead, I was surprised to hear word spreading that the Imperial Courier and Clipper no longer required the Baron rank to be able to purchase; that anyone of rank would be able to acquire these ships.
Unclear whether this was a temporary lift of the Imperial restriction on the ships, I pulled up the navigation computer and plotted a course to a station I was friendly with nearby - a station that would happily sell me a temporary ship.
Firing up the FSD, I jumped and headed to the station, docking without incident. Hailing the local Shipyard, I ordered a Diamondback Explorer to be quickly outfitted.
In the meantime, I began digging through archives of old communications, hoping to uncover pilots mentioning stations where these ships had been sold. Luckily, I did find one - a relatively short hop to Kuwemargl . The Diamondback proved to be a trusty ship, carrying me to the system in a mere 4 jumps.
After docking, I easily found a pilot in search of a barely used "DBXL", as he called it, and signed over the ship. I wasn't thrilled at the negotiated price, but I was in a hurry and didn't want to lose the sale. Fortunately, the acquisition of the Courier went even easier. A quick message to the Shipyard revealed several in stock. I sent my specifications for the loadout, and christened it "Starsight".
I noticed as I was transferring the credits to the shipwright that the Clipper is also available at the station. Unfortunately, it was beyond my meager credit balance. I made a mental note, and boarded.
The trip home would be a bit longer, with the Courier suffering from a slightly shorter jump range. As I undocked, I realized I'd forgotten a Fuel Scoop. Ever the lazy pilot, I asked the computer to recompute the fuel usage for the trip back to Wolf 906. She confirmed it in range, so I began the journey 'home'.
Two jumps out, my fuel was getting dangerously low. I wondered if the computer's computer was wrong, but realized I had no idea of the nearest station. I was forced to press on.
Happily, the computer was right, though I wished she had an understanding that low fuel gauges make us humans nervous. She only sees the fuel in binary terms. You have fuel, or you don't.
At any rate, it appears that my careful treading of rank and status between the Imperial and Federal forces has paid off, for now. I only hope that I can continue walking this line. No doubt that if either faction gets wind of my duality, life would become dicey to say the least.
I continue my life in Wolf 908, a little poorer than when I left, but my fleet continues to grow. I must find time to bring the Viper-Class Fury to this section of space. She currently languishes in Liaedin. I miss her, sometimes.
Unfortunately that will have to wait. I must exploit the generosity of the Emperor before he comes to his senses. It will require a significant amount of work to build the bankroll to purchase the Clipper, but Ivy's Grace will see it done. I suppose I will have ample time to think of a new name while I drift through the void.
