I promised myself I wouldn't return.
I made a fortune out there, enough to maintain a luxurious eternity for this century and the centuries to come.
But sometimes at night, I just look at the bright skies and wonder... What is happening out there?
I have made a living mostly as a trader, and I have been to every single star in the bubble. Nothing feels new to me, but still...
Living on a planet is not what I wanted for the rest of my life. Even when your apartment is one of the best in this world and your bed is almost the size of a goddamn sidewinder. Sounded like a great retirement plan but after a few years I feel like a fish out of the tank.
I miss having those chills on my spine as my ship would engage the drive and reach light speed in milliseconds.
I miss doing the dirty smuggling jobs for easy money, or fighting pirates and feeling that adrenaline rush,
when you feel like today could be your last day.
I guess there is a part of me that loves the danger, and sitting on this couch watching the night sky from my balcony is killing me slowly.
Retiring feels like a horrible mistake. Even with all the near death experiences and all that danger out there.
So I packed my things and left.
Booked a space station shuttle, requested my vessel to be reinspected and prepared for launch.
I wont waste not even one more minute on this planet. I'm sick of it.