Logbook entry

001 - The Practicalities of Mining and the Dream of Exploration

02 Sep 2023Strunjotuxia
Alright, let's take it from the top.

I grew up in the underbelly of Neon, down deep in near the waterline. I was a foundling, mom always said, a stranded toddler she took in and raised as her own. For me, she was the best mom I could imagine; kinda broke me when she fell off the ol' mortal coil when I was seventeen. Went to drown my sorrows and probably myself too in cheap alch but some grizzled guy took an interest in me because I was pretty.

I swear this isn't going the direction you think it is.

Turns out, a pretty face works just as good in humanity's second-oldest profession as it does in its first. For those not in the know, I mean crime. I was the charismatic negotiator organizing hazard pay from corporate agents or talking up my team's skills to those looking to spit in the eye of those same corporations. And on the field, I knew how to talk my way in and out of damn near anything and let my gun handle anything else. On Neon, we call my line of work Cyber Running. Well, former line of work. One time I screw up, the one time the corp guy stiffs us on payment and my team thinks I stole the pot from under them and they choose to leak my rap sheet to some bounty hounds from Freestar. I had to run, find someplace to lay low and earn an honest wage under a new name.

Which is why I'm here, on some blasted rock trying to mine till no one's ever heard of me. But it's not what I want to do, it's a mind-numbing slog that's only livened up when something goes terribly wrong. I want to get out of here, maybe get a ship and start wandering around using my charms to pay the way... Whatever, a few more hauls and I can see what I can get; for now I just gotta keep going and hope my employers don't realize they're harboring someone who did crimes for money just a few months ago.
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