Elite Trader 2/3 - Memories
01 Dec 2016Monolith Preacher
OOC: At long last, a fever dream catch up post. Moving house and country and changing jobs has taken it out of me a bit, but I'm back in the chair and should be able to write a bit as time goes by...probably at a more conservative pace for now, though.Times change, the wheel turns, and yet...I remain.
The past few months have been fuzzy in my memory, and I have fallen deep into the Onion.
I remember Wadir, and a chance comment which sparked a war of attrition.
I remember plans for a boot camp given to me by the CMDR of the Horde House, but which I failed to help create.
I remember our bid for the Dangerous Games, and the knowledge it was naught but a statement of our proficiency.
I remember the galaxy being thrown into spite when a language-centric faction won the games themselves.
I remember flying back home to Gcirthi to find my people on the brink of extiction.
I remember knowing I was powerless as a singular CMDR to stop the advancing forces of two Federation factions.
I remember hitting the bottle and the Onion hard as I read Blix's message to me of his impending victory.
I remember coming back to Clair planning to ask for help, but my pride wouldn't allow me to delegate my duties for a second time.
I remember finding out my people had forsaken me as quickly as the Empire had withdrawn their support for the ongoing problems in Gcirthi.
I remember finally getting my Beluga after a year of waiting, and being amazed on my trip to the Black Treasure.
I remember thinking I wanted the ship in black to suit its name of "Belugaosi's Dead."
I remember feeling like it was a bad omen when Sheng said it only came in white.
I remember getting to Colonia only to find out my contract was going to expire the next day.
I remember the contract said "Delays are unlikely to affect passenger satisfaction."
I remember wanting to vapourise whomever worded the mission brief.
I remember flying my Beluga into a nearby star with the VIPs still comfy in their luxury apartments in a fit of rage.
I remember ejecting close enough to observe the solar flare it caused as I rang up a taxi back to the bubble.
I remember having to sell one of my FdLs for lack of use, realising I was never going to go exploring in it.
I remember meeting up with Hammer and Zero for the first time in ages
I remember getting them to help out a war Deggie told me to get involved in to take my mind off things.
I remember meeting a new CMDR, who was known "DeathThreat", and had an unhealthy fascination with ancient Gundam units.
I remember feeling nostalgic seeing them in a Sidewinder.
I remember that I renamed my remaining FdLs so that they were written in their original languages, respectively.
I remember Scarlet telling me a rose by any other name would still smell as sweet.
I remember reminding her my grammar nazism knew no bounds.
I remember changing my primary ship from my Golden FdL to my newly painted pirate purple FdL.
I remember as I accepting that my friends and wingmates were my new family.
I remember feeling better than I expected to stop trading slaves, as I had stopped preaching to them with any real vigour.
I remember deciding to exclusively brainwash VIPs in the future.
I remember telling myself quality means more than quantity.
I remember coming to terms with who I am.
I remember stopping my smoking entirely.
I remember logging into the Pilots Federation logs to change my role officially.
I am no longer a slave trader.
I'm still a terrorist, either for Black Omega or the Archon.
But on my own?
I'm still a Preacher, but I'm now comfortable with admitting something I've never admitted to anyone....
When I was a child, I learnt Tai Chi and Wing Chun alongside my knife fighting.
I also learnt to play the guitar, program drums, and use varied synthesizers.
I have recently practiced these more often, in order to return to my roots.
Why?
Because this is the return of the Space Cowboy.