Once a pig...
27 Nov 2020Valanga
I should have no desire to do this. But I want money, I need money, dammit.It looks like the Feds and the Empire have decided in light of recent events that the most suitable decision is to bolster their navies and go to war or something. It's all bureaucracy and politics to me and with how much I know about both sides, they can both go to Hell for all I care. Naturally, being the exploitative slimeballs they are, both sides have enacted interstellar initiatives for independent pilots, merchant navies, and party supporters to do their work for them - offering to pay handsomely in exchange, should the operation go smoothly.
I hate the Federation and damn near everything they stand for. I've had more than enough of their awfulness serving in their Navy. But, the Federation is where the rich go to get richer, and I'm not about to offer up my services to those slave-happy Imperials any more than I absolutely have to. And it would make my day to get some stupid Federal pighead bureaucrat to willfully hand over some of his riches to someone who actually needs it - that person being me.
So, I guess I'm a Federation pack mule for the next week or so. Which means, of course, that I get to fly my favorite ship in the whole galaxy ever - my Type-9 Heavy.
I hate this goddamn ship so much. Completely unmaneuverable flying stack of pancakes in space, it is. Full of delicious stuff, but not exactly something you want to strap yourself to and take at 200 m/s. Which is, in fact, its max speed in local space at full thrust. Exhilarating.
I took the liberty of gutting it from... whatever the hell I was using it for prior (collector limpets? No prospector? What was I on?) and outfitting every last nook and cranny of open space with cargo racks. This thing pulls a hefty 752 tonnes of cargo and it does it with absolutely zero style. I also went ahead and installed the best docking computer I could readily find for purchase, as well as a half-decent supercruise auto-pilot module.
Now, I am vehemently against the automation of stellar flight. I think it takes all the fun out of being a pilot in the first place if you just let the ship fly itself. But this ship is not fun to fly. I derive zero pleasure from engaging with the control stick of this hulking behemoth whatsoever. Any time spent trying to heave this ungodly heap of metal and cargo from point A to point B is time I could be spending doing... anything else.
Needless to say, I've actually been having a blast getting a little too high on Onionhead (half to spite the Feds, half to numb the pain of monotony) and laughing about Imperials being in love with Aisling Duval with the other CMDRs on station.
Sometimes you just have to make your own fun, but you always can.
It's Val, out.