Second Home
28 Dec 2020Immehi
Lakon India Mike Mike, you are cleared to dock. Welcome home, commander.That greeting, no matter how rehearsed, is always welcomed. That means I can once again drop my guard, have another period of rest and return to the black to make waves. Until very recently, only the operators in Barnard Station greeted me that way. Now the Jones Terminal folks also begun to welcome me home. After all, I've unofficially made this station my combat operations base, my second home.
Immediately after my departure from the pilot federations' space, I realized that this galaxy is vast as it is dangerous. Any pilot (barring a few) going at it alone for too long is bound to be crushed by the immensity. Without a clear purpose or guidance, it's easy to lose one's way. I needed a tutor to shadow, a leader to follow, a group to belong. I needed safety, I needed a home.
First order of business: find like-minded group of pilots, that means joining a squadron. [REDACTED] is one of the few names that came up in my search of a squadron. They accept beginners, they are all-rounder, they seem structured, and clearly they have order. The interview process was fast and easy; although they are listed in the Galnet, their main comm system is a different network altogether. It didn't take long for me to understand the discord from Galnet's comm system. This other network is clearly more robust, communications are archived, and there are multiple channels, each with specific purpose. These guys are clearly ordered.
Second order of business: specialize in something. As an all-rounder, [REDACTED] is organically split into three divisions: economy, security and discovery. Right off the bat, I knew that discovery is not in my immediate future. Discovery means embarking on long journey, thousands light year away from home, and often in solitude. Next I peeked into the security division. These guys. are. monsters. Their ships could swallow a Python whole and spit out dust. I've personally seen them in the midst of laser beam rain and not so much a dent on their hull. Although they seem to enjoy bumping into each other's ship, I don't know, maybe it's a rite of passage or something. Finally, the economy division. Now this is clearly where I could make my first mark. There are no prerequisites, only perseverance is needed. Buy high, sell low. There was even a guide which I followed, that led me from a minuscule Sidewinder to a behemoth T-9.
The economy path afforded me many ships. No longer was I bound to retrofit my Python depending on business needs, I could simply buy another ship and have it outfitted for specific purpose. Carrying passengers? There's Abbud. Travelling within the bubble? Enjaytee. Trading between the stars? Bubble's depo for all your needs. All these ships find their home in Barnard Station. Now as I dip my toes in the security division, it feels natural to separate the peacetime ships from the peacekeeping ships. Enter Jones Terminal.
Jones is one jump away from Barnard and it houses a material trader. As a Coriolis-type, Jones accommodates large landing pads. This is crucial as I do see myself owning at least one of the big 3 ships. I also hired a fighter to give me an extra hand in the fights. She claims to have made a living by hunting pirates in the past, however I doubt that as her rank is lower than mine. Regardless, I'm sure we'll make a team in the future. For now she's hanging in Jones' lounge, collecting a point from my earnings. Once she's proven her worth, I'll be sure to increase her share as well.
One does lose sense of time in the comfort and safety of one's home. As I near the end of this log, my datapad is chirping, indicating that there is an incoming message. It could be Korie, it could also be the client. After all, I am contract-bound to win my client's war. Let's make some waves.
Lakon India Mike Mike, you have cleared the no fire zone. Fly safe, commander.