Working for a Living
11 Feb 2022Aurora Bael
This past week has been a good one in terms of getting things done. 
First, I got back behind Asmodai's stick and took off for the Jameson Crash site. Had a beer and watched an eclipse with the shattered hulk of a legend and collected some important data and raw materials from points on the surface. While visiting some of the bubble bound engineers I hired to tune The Solidarity, they all clued me in to some ways Asmodai could use an upgrade or three. Reinforced hull playing, better sheilding, the final kick in the pants for the FSD to perform at top spec... A lot of it was pretty straightforward and overall it was an easy set of mods to install. Last stop at Farseer Inc., Felicity grabbed me before I could launch and begged me to let her tweak the aerodynamics again... Gotta say, I think the new profile looks a lot cleaner, and there's no loss in performance in atmo.
It was an eventful week in my Exobiology study as well. I finally convinced the woman at the Vista Genomics counter to sell me the last of the gear I needed to get my lab running. I have so many papers to read that it's giving me a headache. Maybe I need to adjust the gain ony optics again. The fine print is really kicking my ass. Still, it's nice to sink my teeth into a problem I can't shoot to make it go away. There's peace in it. On the way to gather supplies and finish the last of the tweaks, I slide into the atmo of a few planets to catch life-forms ain't never been caught. Got a couple good shots of me doing it, too.
I have a handle on myself now. Direction. Purpose. A clear path to follow between me and complete independence from anyone or anything. Absolute freedom. Wake up, do a hundred push ups, a hundred sit ups, a hundred squats, and punch and kick the ever loving fuck out of a heavy-bag for thirty minutes before grabbing coffee and a sandwich, firing up the ship and moving on to the next objective. And just this minute, it's about work.
Now, I don't exactly need the money. I'm richer now than I ever thought I would manage. My tally shows I'm already over half-way to a billion credit net worth. I have officially made good. But if I'm serious about discovering as much life in the galaxy as I can — and I am serious about it — then having a mobile station to take with me on deep dives is making a scary amount of sense. Especially because I can take my people with me when I go. I know that's not a traditionally "explorer" thing to do, but to keep me from going crazy and to enlist everyone's help on the project, it makes sense.
But first I have to figure out if there's a "there" there to find. So I need to make sure I have cash on hand to hire another Commander to come with me. At first, I thought I'd truck it out in the T-9. Got some packages delivered for my "employer" (enough that he finally gave me the missile rack!) But that didn't pay. So I ran a few holds full of argoninic treatment, bauxite and bertrandite. It sucked. I really hate flying this ship. So, I got Ashteroth, the Keelback, out of the garage for the first time...ever, really, and started mining platinum.
It's serene work. After running around the bubble searching for microbes and people in a rush of madness, to be able to slow down and orbit around small rocks and drill them for metals is so low stress that it is unreal. Ashteroth is a joy to fly. Good solid Lakon construction (I missed it in Asmodai, to be honest, but not enough to give it up), enough room for a proper bed and a coffee pot. If she jumped a little farther, I'd have made an explorer out of this! But as it is, it's a good little work vehicle I'll be glad to fly whenever I want to raise fund or just clear my head. And it's so unassuming that I might just like her for general transport, as well. No need to fly around the hottest rod on the block when I'm just running errands, after all. Most of all, she reminds me of what it was like when I was just starting out, so sure I had left everything behind me and busting my Remlock with excitement at every new system I discovered.
The serenity did not last long, sadly. Like rising vomit at the bottom of a bad bottle, something known and yet somehow unexpected was about to slap me dead in the mouth.
I look up prices on where to sell Platinum and find the weirdest name: "DamnClown's Funland". Now what the fuck kind of station is that? I couldn't help but laugh. It's not too far, it's along a route of protected systems, and... I dunno. Huh... You know I could have sworn — that's it! It seemed familiar. So I rang up the course, and set off.
It's in Imperial space...
I've done everything I can to avoid coming to places the Empire still controls. I had no idea how I'd react if I returned. There is some kind of distance now between who I was...remember being?...and who I am now. But the bright and warm voice of the traffic controller, the cleanliness of the station. It made me feel... Warm. Connected in a way that I don't know that I'm ready to accept yet. This place tried to break me for decades. Why should it make me feel cozy?
After grabbing an upgraded suit for when I'm hunting down aliens, I hear an argument across the concourse and move to get a better view. There's a woman yelling about how she's sick of someone telling her what to do and he should know better and holy shit was she tearing into him. Something about her voice...tickled my brain, so I moved closer just as the yelling was quieting down. Her eyes met mind and in a flash I could tell she knew me. Before I could react she stopped in front of me and put her hands on both my shoulders, and pulled me into the warmest, most desperate hug I've ever experienced. I can't help but hug back even though I'm still not sure what's going on, but then it hit me.
Moira. Her name is Moira Templeton and we grew up on the same station... And that's when it occurs to me that I no longer know the names of the people who owned the pair of us. I was able to play it off okay, because I could tell it has been a long time since she's seen "me". This is bizarre. I've never run into such a gaping hole in my memory before. In "old Rory's" memory? My recollection since the big wreck is fine. It's the stuff before that now seems... Far off. Like it's all been muted and splashed with hot water, colors running out of frame and down the walls of my mind...
...Maybe that's a good thing. I wasn't exactly doing well before. If I'm different enough that the old hurts can't always hold me, then so much the better. Gives me a lot to think about, anyway.
I'll spare you the rest of the story about getting back to Alcor to run equipment for the Highway project again. They're trying to build quality enough facilities that Universal Cartographics and Vista Genomics will endorse the project and send reps. It's a good thing. And it is labor, to be sure. Even if it is incredibly lucrative work. I only wish I had a more enjoyable ship to fly while delivering this stuff. I can respect the understated grace of the Type-9 as a pure cargo vehicle...but all the same...it feels dead in my hands.
Anyway, I think I've said about what I need to say for this one. There's a short expedition coming up at the end of next week that I'm hoping to make. But my trigger finger is starting to itch, and there's an idea forming in my head now that Zack Hudson is going mask-off...
It might be a worthwhile idea to take those Feds up on their offer...
Maybe. We'll see.
Best of luck to all of you out there,
Rory Bael