We all start somewhere
19 Jan 2016Dacorpse
They say you never know what kind of person you’ll end up being once you enter the pilot’s academy, I stood in line to get my recruitment number without a credit to my name and barely the clothes on my back. I could tell that even here, who you where mattered. I watched as the galaxy’s primp and proper were assigned to the same squadrons, while I was assigned with the farmers, truckers and miners. For the months that followed I watched as the others trained in federal assault ships that where taken care of down to the simplest detail, while we flew in sidewinders that struggled to hold together.Graduation finally came and I had scrounged up enough credit to buy my own ship and get the hell out of Eravate. The system was a cesspool , crawling with pirates and bounty hunters looking for a quick bit of coin. I had to beat my FSD with a wrench to get the supercruise to initiate, I never expected to be hailed on comms just as I was leaving the system:
“Looks like you could use a wingmate, I know I sure do”
I peered out from under my control cluster, damn FSD coupler was still sparking. Flying along side me was one of the pilots I saw on that first day as I stood in line for the academy. Proper this guy, had born with money written all over him, but he was right. His cobra looked like it had just come off the assembly line, every detail manicured to perfection. “Yeah, I’m getting as far away from this system as I possibly can” I told him. I heard him laugh but I knew he was thinking the same thing.
“I heard of a system called Wolf 1301, there is a faction growing there, not Federation or Imperial, but an independent faction of pilots. That’s where I’m headed” His enthusiasm was clear over the voice comms, I was hesitant but I decided to follow him to this new place.
Our journey spanned over several weeks, so many hours were spent staring into the glow of a sun as our flue scoops did their work. I came to learn much about him, he definitely came from money, though he was as modest as any man I had ever crossed. He told me he was born in Sol (Never been there, heard it’s a rotten place) and that his family had it’s roots spanning across the history of the federal navy, he was following in his parents footsteps, even though he had lost them while he was still young. He struck me as someone determined to change the world that had shown him it’s ugly side on more than once occasion.
I tried not to say too much about myself but he was always empathetic, listening to my stories of being a freed slave and always replying with something hopeful and enthusiastic. It wasn’t until we reached Saunders dive that the thought crossed my mind, this man knows my history as I do his, yet I have never seen his face. I have to admit I was slightly nervous as my ship docked and the bay hissed closed. My beard had grown since I left the academy and I was still wearing my pilots suit.
As I descended out of my ship I saw this man climbing out of his cobra, much like I expected he looked like he had just been dressed by the finest Clothiers the Federation has to offer. I walked up to his ship and extended out my hand to the pilot that had become my friend “I don’t know how but we made it.”