Memoirs of a Merchant of Mirdhr - The Pirate Predicament
12 Apr 2022Cerbervs Blackwood
The Lords of Mirdhr have served me well, or perhaps that should be the other way around?
I remember taking on my first delivery job, in a rust bucket of a sidewinder and venturing out into the sea of stars. It felt like I was taking my flight training all over again.
Once the auto docking sequence had dumped me seven kilometres out from Bondar Gateway, I felt completely alone, despite being able to see the starport on my scanners.
I can remember the ear-splitting guttural roar of a Type-10 defender bringing me to my senses as my Sidewinder shuddered in its wake. The plasmatic emissions from its thrusters made the multitude of stars blink in and out of existence as it distorted the light, making the sky glitter like an overpriced diamond ring.
I knew I'd found my vocation, my purpose… My destiny.
My first delivery mission did not go to plan. For as much as the unspoken alliance with the pirate factions had delivered Ben Mirdhr into power, it had also increased the risks inherent for those trying to earn an honest wage in the solar system.
Piracy had found its niche in Kareldt.
I was fresh out of flight school and was distracted by the desire to line my pockets with credits. It seemed like a good idea to put the Sidewinder's Frameshift Drive through its paces. Armed with the logic that every light second closer to the drop point, was a light second closer to being paid, I'd 'turned the oven up' on the thrusters until the cockpit felt like a cheap outpost steam room.
In hindsight, it was a dangerous move; one that I soon found out was going to be a costly mistake.
Griffith Silo shone like a steel pin in the dark side of Kareldt B1a upon approach. I barely had time to drop from hyperspace before my FSD got sent up the wazoo by a pirate ship interdictor.
Instantly, I was cursing my stupidity for ignoring the advice from the concourse barflies.
"Keep yer head cool and yer jets even cooler". Back then, they had a habit of ousting fledgling pilots and would mutter something about bad luck and curses as they deliberately avoided eye contact with anyone who wasn't at their table.
Ramping up the heat of my powerplant must have made my ship stand out like a blazing sun on any sensor this side of the Pegasi cluster.
Whether they were bored or just desperate, they had decided to pick me to shit on my day.
Their Krait, equipped with the best, and likely hottest tech burst into my sensor range like a party popper into a two-bit office party.
Now, it wasn't just the temperature of the cockpit that had me sweating in my father's hand-me-down flight suit.
Their manifest scanners peeled back my entry-level encryption like a ripe banana and a gruff female voice hailed me over my comms.
"Well, it's not much, but it'll do." She said as if her having to steal my cargo was a sleight against her in some way.
I'd taken a risk opting to deliver consumer goods, but the credits were too appealing for me to overlook, and besides, it never hurt to get on the good side of the Lords of Mirdhr.
To this day I don't know what happened next, but the last thing I could remember was the sound of my hull cracking, heat and then waking up in traction in a med bay light-years from anywhere.
Turns out that despite the speed of which my safety pod enclosed around me, it wasn't fast enough to protect my face from the fragments of my favourite souvenir coffee mug from when I'd visited Kingsbury Beacon.
I'd been under for so long that the med tech-heads had completely grafted and stabilised my replacement cyber-eye. It was an entry level optic that was covered in my insurance package.
Now, you might think that a replacement eye would be a hindrance, but let it be said that when I eventually shuffled into the concourse bar, it was the eye that caught the gaze of the veterans table with a glance of mutual respect.
I didn't have to buy a beer that whole week!
There were two… Arguably three, advantages as a result of falling foul to the pirate captain and her crew.
One, I'd learnt my first valuable lesson in hauling interplanetary cargo; the mantra 'heat sinks save lives'.
Two, always, and I mean always make sure you have your bucket of bolts insured; no matter the price.
And, three… You can't make credits wrapped up in a med bay, like a cheap birthday present.
Needless to say; by the time my tibia had set, I was the proud owner of a shiny new Sidewinder.
I was broke, but I was mobile once again.