Fine, I'll do This: Pilot's Log # 7: Current Events and Feelings
29 Sep 2015Michael Wolfe
Fine, I’ll do this #7Commander M. Lehman
Sept. 29, 3301
I thought I could make the Pilot’s Fed happy with six journal entries. Do my homework, get back in their good graces, and they leave me alone. After all, there are millions of us freelancing pilots to keep track of. Surely, the Fed's psyche officers have better things to do than read my word vomit back on Founder's World, right?
Wrong.
Somebody at Fed HQ is reading these, because their psyche department interrupted a perfectly good beer and synthburger at one of Shajn Market’s restaurants with a message stating that it had been 11 days since my last journal entry. It recommended at least one submission in the next 48 hours. Can’t a man relax in peace?
I ain’t a writer. If you were to ask me what my job is, I would shrug and tell you that I own and pilot a spaceship, and that I do things for money. What kind of things? You know… things. If a job is worth doing, I do it. I count the credits, not the words. I balance expenses, not karma.
Maybe that’s my accountant mother’s influence.
But Pilot’s Fed wants me to talk about what I’m doing now, not belabor the story of how I got to be here.
Well, screw them. I’ll talk about how my first Eagle got to be called the Green Salsa Avenger if I damn well please. Ain’t they already got enough pilots yacking about what’s going on right now? If I want to dwell in the past, I’ll dwell in the Goddamn past.
Listen to me... now it’s my father, the historian, doing the talking. He would say that to mom whenever they would fight. If she accused him of it, he would just smile and say that dwelling in the past was his job.
So, Pilot’s Fed, you want me talk about the present?
Fine. The professor’s son kills for money. How’s that?
And how many carefully-maintained spreadsheets would be ruined by black market smuggling, mom? Because I do that, too.
I’ve got a ship (several, in fact), a patron, and a long-term hanger lease aboard Shajn Market. I even trust the Imperials running the place enough to have my own apartment a few levels away from the hangers. I work when I want to work, and I relax when I want to relax. If I feel like sitting on my ass and seeing a holo-show, then so be it. If it means sleeping for twelve hours, I'll do that, too. Once, I booked a week-long tour of the most beautiful parts of Kamadhenu. It included a lux cabin in an Orca- and for a brief while, I was the pampered passenger, not the pilot.
That was a magnificent week. Good food, gorgeous scenery, and I somehow persuaded one of the better-looking smugglers I’ve ever met to accompany me. Kyndi, I think her name was. Goddamn, what a woman. As a freelancer, she was like me, but in opposite ratios- I’m a bounty hunter who ain’t above a little smuggling; she’s a smuggler who will vaporize your ship if you’re in her way and have a price on your head. She liked tattoos, sex, and Onion head.
She especially liked combining those things.
Like I said, it was a magnificent week.
My patron, Arissa Lavignly-Duval, treats me right. She sends millions of credits my way every week for doing things I was going to do anyway- like, kill pirates on their own turf. The Kumo Crew are overgrown schoolyard bullies- and like any bully, have no idea how to act whenever someone stands up to them. You oughta hear them plead and cry when they’re the ones having their ships blasted to pieces without mercy.
Then there’s my ships. I’ve got a Type-7, an Asp, a Viper, and my pride and joy: The Hand of Blue, my Vulture.
The Type-7 is left over from my hauling phase, when I damn near got out of the bounty hunting game for good. What's there to say about her? She's big, ugly, and reminds me of my days in the navy. She flys like a hog, and looks like one, too.
The Asp is good for when I feel like lending a hand to support LD’s worlds if there's an insurrection. Her garrisons get supplied, the underminers get taken out, and everyone is happy. On the off-chance that I get tired of bounty hunting and want to take a break, it’s perfect. Like the Type-7, she can haul a decent amount. Unlike the Type-7, however, she can also put up a fight if she needs to.
The Viper was the first ship I flew that I really fell in love with. She’s fast, deadly, and set me up to become a full time reaper. I don’t fly her much anymore, but I can’t bring myself to sell her, either. Sentiment, you know?
But my baby? My baby is the Hand of Blue, my customized Vulture.
On top of purchasing her brand-new from a Core Dynamics yard (new starship smell is the best!), I’ve sunk over 20 million into her. Weapons, thrusters, sensors, the reactor- you name it, it’s upgraded. Hell, I even bought a custom pilot’s seat, upholstered with real leather and cushioned with that wonderful conforming gel that the Utopians came up with.
I just can’t bring myself to get anything bigger than the Hand of Blue. She’s just too… perfect. Some pilots complain that Vultures don't have enough power to go around. I say that they need to ditch the owner’s manual and learn how to tinker with their power grids. I’ve got mine perfectly set up- I’m running class 3 pulse lasers, high-end shield boosters, and top-of-the line everything just fine. She can fly circles around any other ship, and blast away with those big Goddamn pulse lasers until they’re slag. It doesn’t even seem fair most of the time.
Plus, she’s big for a fighter. I can stand up and walk around- hell, there are even stairs between the commander’s chair and systems deck. She's got a dedicated stateroom just aft of the cockpit for when I’m needing some deep-space rack time. Full-size bed that drawbridges up into the wall, made of the same gel as the pilot’s seat. It cost me ten thousand credits, but it's my best friend after the kind of days that I have.Lockers for clothes, weapons, and equipment. Sink, bathroom, and shower. Off to the side is a small fridge, oven, and a little table for eating. Nice big holovision. It's spartan, but it's all the home I need out in the black.
One more door aft of that, and you’re in the cargo bay, nestled between the thrusters. Automated sorting arms keep the cargo containers secure, and if I'm near a star, the class-2 filters deploy automatically to directly recharge the fuel cells with processed stellar hydrogen if the sensors detect enough nearby.
The Hand of Blue ain’t the biggest, but she’s a proper ship.
A proper, highly modified, kill-you-for-credits murdership, that is.
So yeah. Pythons, Clippers, and Goddamn Anacondas are all pretty nice- I’ve got a few buddies who fly them- but I would miss the Vulture’s agility. Plus, anything bigger than an Asp is best flown with a crew, and I like to keep mine a one-man operation.
Alright, enough about my damn ship. I’m starting to sound like every other pilot at the bar.
So, back to the Pilot’s Fed request: document what you’re doing right now. Alright, I'll humor you. Hell, I'll even specify what I'm not doing. Think of it as a bonus.
Right now I’m docked at Shajn Market. Right now I'm at a desk in my apartment, dashing off this log with an icy glass of Old Sol to keep me company. If I'm doing that, it means I'm not looking for jobs. I'm not entertaining any dock-knockers at the moment, and I'm sure as hell not in my ship making credits.
So, what have I been doing?
Short answer: the usual. Flying to the system that most needs Kumo Crew assholes dead, and making them dead. Freelance reaping and merc work on the side. And if I'm poking around a wreck and there happens to be some valuable cargo still floating around, well- it would be a crying shame to just leave it, right?
I’ve also been running supplies in my Asp to systems that are facing unrest. While making sure that planetary garrisons are well-supplied is absolutely necessary, her organization just doesn’t seem to appreciate it the same way as they do when I '86 a few dozen pirate ships. So, I don’t think I’ll be doing much of that in the future. I’m pretty high up on the ladder of her partnership tiers, so it’s no trouble to store a few ships at her home port and work alone.
I’m not in the uppermost tier, though. Even though 50 mil a week sounds amazing, you damn near have to join the Imperial Navy and fly all day, every day in Arissa's interest. There are those who do it, and that’s their choice. Only… you wouldn’t be much of an indy anymore, working for the man (or in my case, the woman) like that. Yeah, the pay is amazing, and you’ll be buying that Anaconda someday… but it would just feel… off.
I did my time in the navy. I took orders, went where they sent me, ate the food they fed me, and did what was expected of a good little dock technician. If I wanted that life, I would have just reenlisted, and spent a few more decades looking over inventory logs and supervising the loading and unloading of cargo. Don’t get me wrong- I believe in the Empire. I believe in the justness of Arissa’s cause.
I just believe in being my own man a little bit more.