Cmdr LeoLeonidas
Role
Freelancer / Adventurer
Registered ship name
Telesto
Credit balance
-
Rank
Dealer
Registered ship ID
Hauler TE-14H
Overall assets
-
Squadron
The Stellar Cartographers Guild
Allegiance
Independent
Power
Independent

Logbook entry

Another Fresh Beginning

22 Jan 2022LeoLeonidas
I find myself, as I return to Oluwafemi Depot deep in the VESPER-M4 system, "tail tucked between my legs," reflecting on my past and recent exploits.

A failed job - my FIRST failed job - and I can't help but wonder where it went wrong. It was simple enough, sneak in, grab some device or another, sneak out, don't get caught. Easy. I've trained for this, in a way.

Doesn't seem like it, reviewing my job history, though. A financial technician for some low-ranking government office in the confines of the Federation, before that a warehouse worker for a few months after college, to shore up cash. Odd jobs here and there as I got my education, previous to the warehouse.

Not that being a financial technician is a bad gig - it's not, stable hours, steady pay, pleasant company in the offices - but stars if the work isn't dull as it comes. Nothing but numbers, and not the fun kind: costs, expenses, percentages of this or that, trying to get the books to mirror each other. In has to equal out, after all, and out has to equal in. Standard fare.

The most exciting aspect of the day-to-day? Someone couldn't find a valuable piece of Federation property during audit season. How do you just *lose* an office's worth of technology to big to carry out the door? It doesn't just get misplaced behind So-and-so's desk in the corner, you don't accidentally leave it in a storage locker - it's bigger than the damn door, after all. That was always fun, but you'd usually have counted every simulated grain in the faux wood they used for the desks, made to make the place look fancy and high-class - never knew when some Congressman was going to make the trip out from Mars for a surprise visit or inspection, galaxy knows why - by the time it happened again.

That is to say, the fun times were rare, and finding enjoyment in the usual grind was rarer.

The numbers I care about? Those are the numbers I was educated in. A scientist by education - studies in geology, biology, chemistry, astrophysics - that's where I saw my calling. Not government finance. I wanted to pave the way for future generations, help the whole of humanity piece together one more part of the puzzle of existence.

Then I found out about the grant process almost all scientists suffer through. If you're not lucky enough to have a wealthy backer - or to make the money yourself by hustling - you were stuck spending most of your days writing and rewriting grant proposals, hoping some uncaring bureaucrat would deign to put ink to it and give you a pittance for your work - barely enough to cover the expense of the equipment, let alone to pay your own bills. Or get into teaching [shudders], what a hellhole of a life, and good blessings to those that do it.

Well - that or become a dog for some faceless corporate entity, but that's another story entirely. After that little revelation (Thanks, Professor G), I decided why not try to find something more... guaranteed. And so, government finance.

And since government finance was duller than the black of the Abyss, I was getting more education on the side - Intelligence collection, espionage-type stuff. A regular ol'... what was that guy's name, from the ancient Earthen holo-vids? Bomes Jand? Something like that. Learned a lot doing that, you'd be ASTOUNDED at the stuff people will say when they think no one is listening, especially once they get a couple drinks in them. "Trade secrets? What secrets? No, no, this is just my good friend that works at the same firm as me, they already know all this stuff!" Yeah, well now so does the nondescript guy sitting at the next booth over, too.

But alas, the stars, they called, as they called since childhood.

And so I cut my losses and run, got accreditation from the Pilot's Fed and got the hell out of that stuffy office, got away from the shadows I was chasing down, begging them to let me join in. I was going to be an explorer, make the next big discovery.

And then I discovered the cost of fitting a ship for exploration, and so I guess I'm freelancing for the time being - which isn't bad at all, get to see new places, meet new people. I spend most of my time as a courier, occasionally do some trading, but I try to avoid conflicts - don't need to get a reputation (or warrants) that'll follow me when I make my future returns to civilization.

This most recent gig, though, I went outside my comfort zone. Got an offer at Oluwafemi, paid well enough, just had to sneak into this facility on the other side of the rock, grab something from the power plant, and sneak out.

Turns out, despite the education, I'm better at collecting the information to give to the wetworks people than I am at doing the dirty business myself. I pressed a button I shouldn't have pressed, and made the alarm go off. Before I had time to process where I screwed up, I could hear the security personnel gunning for my position.

I'm lucky I made it out without a scratch, and I'm DAMN lucky they didn't think to look farther than a couple dozen meters outside their perimeter - I only parked my ship about a klick and a half away, behind a short ridge.

And so here I am, returned to Oluwafemi, ashamed of my failure, and hoping to get a cup of coffee - or the closest thing to it I can find, as long as it's not this instant crap I keep onboard. "Instant" is no joke, once you pull the tab it heats up like a thermite charge. The problem is, it burns the coffee (or whatever is in it they're calling "coffee"), and it takes about ten minutes to cool enough to be drinkable - don't want to melt your tongue off, after all.

Here's hoping the next job goes better. Until next time.
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