It Takes All Types...
08 Aug 2016Kyndi the Badass Space Chick
Well, hello there, flyboy.No? Not a pilot? Well, this is a pilot's bar. What are you-
Ohhh. I see. A ground-pounder who wants to sample the life, huh? Cute, innocent, coasting off of a lifetime of action holovids. Bored with university, bored with life- and you think the answer can be found somewhere in the black? I've met a ton of boys like you.
But you've never met a girl like me.
I know, I know- I sound like just another full-of-herself hotshot commander. But I mean it. Of all the boys and girls in this bar with Pilot's Fed wings, I bet I'm the only one who doesn't give a shit what she's flying.
Nope. It's true. And I bet I'm the only one here who can look you in the eye and say that.
Now, don't get me wrong: I have my preferences, and take care of whatever I fly. But I don't get attached, I don't stay in one ship for long, and I for damn sure don't assign it some contrived, almost-clever name. A lot of pilots love their ships. I get that. But when it comes to love, I've got a rule: never love anything that can't love you back. Too many pilots forget that and get all wrapped up in their expensive toys. They merge with them. Stake their identities in them. In fact, you can tell a lot about a pilot from what they're flying.
Look around. We've got all types in here.
You can always tell the lifelong freighter pilots. Like their ships, they're fat, slow, and not good for much except moving merch from point A to point B. I don't know if there's a Pilot's Fed rule that says that T-7 or 9 pilots have to put on the kilos- but damn if flying one of those doesn't mean sitting on your ass all day. They're usually a jovial bunch, though- which is more than I can say for a lot of people here.
Below the successful traders are the struggling gypsy truckers- the small timers just trying to make ends meet. Their ships are, well, not the best. You know- the Hauler, the T-6, and the Adder. Usually, they're the loners hunched over the counter, looking glumly into their beers and making small talk with the bartender. Poor sods.
And the Keelback crowd? Please. They're just in denial that their rig is a T-6 with a party trick.
Then there's the new jacks. I love new jacks. They're young, loud, and are still strutting around in their flightsuits even though they haven't been in their Sidewinders all day. They're the most likely to hit on me, and the most likely to get their asses kicked.
Speaking of kicking ass, we've got bounty hunters and mercs in here, too. See over there, in the corner booths? Yeah, the guy with the sleepy look and black leather. Ten to one he flies a Vulture. And the woman next to him with the shaved head and facial tats? Same thing. Maybe they're partnered up, maybe they're shacked up- but they kill for money, guaran-damn-teed. Just steer clear of them, okay?
See up there? That guy flies a Fer de Lance. Did some work with him one time. Real asshole, that one. Acted like the entire 'verse owed him a blowjob. Hell of a pilot, though. You've got to be careful with anyone who flies a 'Lance. They're either pansy-ass corporate posers or stone-cold reapers.
And over there, a few tables away? See the guy who's laughing a little too hard? Flies an Anaconda and never shuts up about it. Worst case of little man syndrome ever. No one even knows what the hell he does with his ship- but it's the only thing he ever talks about.
Then there's the uniforms. That's what I call the stuffed shirts who fly the dedicated Imp or Fed ships. You don't get your hands on those unless your head's real deep up some superpower's ass. Take a good, long look at 'em. Fucking sellouts.
Then there's the group over there, playing cards and taking it easy. Pythons. Cobras. Kraits. Chances are, they've had their rigs for years. Direct when negotiating. And good at what they do.
Well, sweetheart, that about covers it. Still think you want to be a pilot, or are you just chatting me up to buy me a drink?
What about me, you ask?
You seem pretty sweet, so I'll humor you. I fly a third-gen Cobra. Fast, reliable, and perfect for what I do.
Ha. Nice try. Let's just say that I'm the girl who can get it for you.
So- what's the next step for you? Inspired to apply for Pilot's Fed yet?
Just here to learn, huh? Well, I've given you the inside scoop. What more could you want?
Oh. Well aren't you forward. And naughty.
Normally, I'd airlock a man right out of this bar for a comment like that. But you've been a good listener, and you are kind of cute. And the life does get lonely sometimes...
Get your jacket on, handsome. My ship isn't on the unloading queue for at least three more hours. Even seen a Cobra Mk III up close? Well, you're about to. I think it's time to give you and those sweet blue eyes the inside tour...
Author's note: Credit to Keven Massey for the amazing character portraits! Check him out here!