Rough day
17 Dec 2020Teafox
Poor Vespertillio has had more holes shot in her (His? Hmm... do ships have to be feminine?) hull than is reasonably necessary. Held it together magnificently, but... Wow, that was close.I guess now that the pulse wave scanner problem has been addressed and fixed units are starting to flow out into the galactic market, all of those pilots that were previously wrestling over bounty vouchers are now in the belts trying to earn even more money too.
Come to think of it, maybe that suggests we should refit for combat now, since pirates seem to be everywhere. Thankfully, the shields held for long enough that we were able to high wake to a nearby system. Less thankfully, we were jumped again before the shields had fully recovered. The hull repair costs were horrific, but better than losing the ship and the cargo.
Seven trips in all, good money, but lots of interdictions. The kid is getting better at keeping his cool with an FSD tether on him now, doesn't panic so much... Gauges whether he'll be able to break the tether quickly and fights it well if he can, submits and follows the escape protocol pretty well if he has to. It was me at the helm when we lost our shields though. My fault entirely, not the kids.
We had to hole up in a nearby carrier at one point. Security is pretty stiff, since they're privately owned and a law unto themselves. We weren't allowed out of the landing pad area, had to wait in the bay whilst they replaced the messed up hull plates and damaged components.
But that's an interesting idea. The Brewer corporation is licensed to sell carrier class vessels to private buyers... And the owners are not obliged to let anyone on board they don't wish to be there. No empire poking their nose into things, no thank you to federation agents wanting to 'inspect' the vessel. You don't even have to permit other pilots fed members to land if you don't want to.
So... What would be stopping us from, for example, putting full medical facilities on board, imprint facility and all, and then just forbidding access to the database?
Oh, yes, well... Money. But hey, minerals are valuable, and guess what folks who were born and raised as asteroid miners are good at getting? Sure, it'll eat my lifetime's savings and then some, but right now? I'm still not feeling absolutely secure putting my life into the hands of the Remlok corporation. Let alone the kid.
He's doing well with his studies. I've made some flash cards for letters out of a deck of playing cards. Twenty six for him, twenty six for me. We've made a game of helping him memorize the letters. I hold up a card, he has five seconds to call out the letter. If he calls out a letter, I have five seconds to hold up the right card. If you lose, you have to get up and touch the back of the cabin. It's simple, it's silly... It's surprisingly fun.
Whilst he studies with his datapad, spelling words out loud, I've been cross referencing the station logs of the places we've visited since yesterday. Every ship coming in and out. There are a lot that have visited stations in common with us... Hopefully that will narrow down quickly.
Hopefully it'll narrow down to zero, come to think of it.
Currently the station commissary is packed out. Since we're trying to not stand out too much by leaving, we shared a table with two other spacers that seemed embroiled in a lively conversation. I'd peg both in their mid twenties, perhaps, and they were discussing how the recent drive to fund station construction had been both bloody and highly profitable. They happily waved us into the seats besides them, stating that they were nearly done with lunch. They were both immediately curious about the kid. The louder, and more irritating one was boasting how his combat ranking had been re-appraised recently as 'expert' and how he had gotten there within a week of getting his license. His friend was clearly tired of the conversation, so chided him that even the kid could probably reach that rank in a weekend. The kid and I exchanged a glance and I couldn't help but smirk. How quickly could he get there? I wondered. "Hours." I mouthed to him, silently, holding up five fingers. He grinned and held up four. I gave a theatrically impressed look and a thumbs up. I like that attitude. We shared a furtive giggle. I didn't notice that the loud one was addressing us directly.
"How about your Dad, kiddo? I saw the bucket you flew in on, can't imagine he'd be too hot in a fight? whaddya think he's rated at?"
I tried to diffuse the situation. "Oh, you're not wrong, I've been flying a good few years now. The points slowly add up as the years do."
He didn't like my attempt at evading the question. "Go on then, no, let me guess. Miner like you? Competent, maybe expert at most if you've been at is as long as you look."
Could I turn it into a joke? "Thanks for thinking I look so young." I shrugged, he wasn't buying it. "...but I've been at it a lot longer than that. I reached 'Deadly' a few weeks back as it happens."
"Bullshit." he growled. "Prove it."
I sighed, aside from kill count, another thing that you pick up with experience is how to flash your insignia without leaving your name or callsign visible. I glanced back at the kid, we were both thinking the same thing and he quietly gathered the unopened packets of food into his satchel as I presented my license. Elite, Elite, Deadly. The quiet pilot did the same, Commander Lanstrom, Dealer, Scout, Expert. We exchanged a polite nod as I stood. "Family name? Solar origin?".
"Grandpa was an Admiral, Father only made it to Captain." He cocked his head. "Familiy's from Mars, but I guess that counts as solar. How about you, Commander ...?"
"Incognito." I tried to sound apologetic. "Grew up in the Ross 154 belt and trying hard to not pick another fight. Oh seven, commanders."
There was one understanding salute and another... Well, less pleasant gesture and some half hearted goading. It turned a few heads. So much for not causing a scene I guess. Still, it could have been worse. I've seen brawls break out in places better than this.
I think we both breathe a little easier now that we're back in space. Not liking crowded areas is rather in my blood, I can't help but wonder if I'm not rubbing off on the kid a bit. Kid wanted to pick a belt for the night, but it's best to not get too repetitive, so we set course out into the black, boosted has hard as we could and then killed the thrusters to keep momentum up. Nothing on the scanner, so a little bump on the lateral thrust just in case someone was matching our velocity before we went dark, and we're as safe as you can be out here. Just a tiny dark speck in a black sky, moving away at speed. Then the kid decided to floor me entirely, by asking if we could read more of the book we started last night. It was how he asked that did it.
"Can we read some more of the story about Bilbo, Dad?"
He was grinning like a cat the whole time, I figure it feels a bit weird for him too. I tried to counter with "Okay, son, do you remember where we left off?", but he says he prefers 'Kid'. I think I do to.
I'm sure I'm still blushing even now that he's been asleep for a while... 'Dad' Feels weird.
Kinda nice though.