Personal Log 88: 11th - 17th January, 3302
07 Oct 2016Jemine Caesar
11th - 17th January, 3302 I woke on 11 January to a k-cast call from Sam.
"Hello, my love," He said. " I've been called to an urgent diplomatic meeting on Mars. I never got round to telling you that I'm now in more of a diplomatic role than an intelligence one with the Navy's top brass. And with the inter-faction war ongoing in Beta Hydri, it was left to me to try and get some sense out of both sides. The talks continue."
Yet another inter-faction conflict, this time in Beta Hydri, which had been simmering for several days now.
"Don't worry," I replied. "I know how quickly things can happen in the world of politics." I paused, then went on; "That is, actually I don't, because I have absolutely no brain for politics, as you know! But I'm sure that whatever it is you're doing is very important indeed."
I was glad to leave Yamazaki Base behind. I picked up a couple of delivery jobs to LP 3303 and Lu Yupik, during which I received a brief but welcome call from Nathalie. She assured me she was all right, and busily making plans for the next stage of her vow to eliminate Archon Delaine.
Further jobs took me to Beta Hydri (avoiding the battle zones) and on to Arangorii, where I was faced with a long journey across the system to reach Leibnitz Orbital to deliver a canister of grain. On the way in I was attacked by a Vulture. I beat him, but on docking at Leibnitz Orbital I was 'interviewed' about the incident by system security.
"Just some routine questions, Miss Caesar," said the officer, eyeing me up and down in a manner that seemed anything but routine.
The next day I returned to Beta Hydri, and ran straight into trouble when I was interdicted by a Sidewinder flown by a rather hopeful novice-rated pilot. I was on the verge of defeating him when he decided enough was enough, and escaped into supercruise. I thumped the side of my chair in frustration.
The chair made no reply.
*****
My mood was lightened by the news that Sam had returned. Back in our room on Stevenson Base, Sam dug out a holopic of himself aged about 15.
"Oh! Look at you!" I cooed. "You've hardly changed at all! How sweet!"
Sam smiled. "Well, my love," he said, "I was often mistaken for older at the time. Mind you, that can be put down wholly to my tall frame!"
I put down the holopic, sat on the bed, and looked up at Sam. "Well," I said, "you've certainly grown into a fine figure of a man, as you've proved many times. So... come here and prove it to me again..."
Much of the rest of the week was spent on Stevenson Base. The Red Rose was busier than usual, what with the influx of mercenaries looking to make a few credits on the back of the Beta Hydri civil war. The new staff had not lasted long, so I happily helped out with a few shifts behind the bar and waiting on tables.
On 17 January I sent Barnes a hologreeting for his 86th birthday. The Beta Hydri conflict was finally running out of steam, which in turn meant the rapid disappearance of the mercenaries. Both Sam and I were itching to get back into space again, so we powered up our ships and headed out into the void.
With no jobs on the bulletin board I had bought some tomatoes, selling for a profit of 1,800CR at Gell-Mann Station in the LHS 3836 system. There I spotted a mission which seemed really easy; find scrap, bring it back, and receive 9,650CR for it. I snapped up the contract and set off. Unfortunately, scrap was suddenly nowhere to be found. I tried Beta Hydri, Lu Yupik and Minmar, all without success. Worse still, I had become a target for three pirate attacks.
The first of these was an onslaught by a Federal Dropship, cracking my canopy and reducing my ship to 43%. I managed to engage FSD before it was too late. The repairs cost me 1,775CR.
The second attack was from a Vulture. This time I got the upper hand, claiming a 37,600CR bounty.
The third was a Viper IV, and again I managed to defeat him fairly quickly.
With nerves severely frayed, I docked at Bayliss Landing , collected my 11,675CR bounty for the Viper, and headed for the bar. One of the locals noticed my trembling figure.
"Och, ye look like ye could die wi' a drink, hen," he said.
He was right. I gratefully accepted his invitation to drink with him, and listened to his tales of working in the station's refinery.
And my goodness, could he talk!