(continuing from Tales from the Spacelanes, starting here: http://aegidian.org/bb/viewtopic.php?f= ... &start=971
I looked over my new rustbucket, one that was somehow more beat up looking than the old one, especially with the modified escape capsule re-installed (hey, it's a good trick, could come in handy again). The station mechanic promised me the atmospheric wing was installed properly now, but I wasn't going to trust this heap anywhere near a planet.
As I got into my cockpit and prepared to leave Qubeen, I guess you could say I started having a good long hard look at myself. And while I looked good as always, I was starting to wonder if I cared for what I saw underneath. I love myself--hey, I'm a loveable guy--but I wasn't sure I really liked myself right now.
I'd been so obsessed with trying to survive, stay one step ahead of daddy dearest's space ninjas or whatever, and make my only home here just a tiny bit more tolerable, that I hadn't really considered whether or no I deserved what was--oooh, they fixed the booze injector on my tea maker! So long, suckers! Computer: Tea, Earl Grey, 50 proof!
I think I blacked out for a few jumps after that.
Next thing I know I'm on some techy planet outside the Core Worlds with what I hope is a female cat person next to me, covered in frictionless bedsheets, wearing an RRS Service cap on my head and holding a bottle of... you know what? From the smell of it, it's probably better not to look to closely at the label.
The frictionless bedsheets let me slip away from the cat lady's literal claws (more cat than lady... definitely not your Kawaii Neko variety). I washed up and got back to my ship.
Seems that in the interval I'd wasted pretty much all my money, but managed to get my Adder back into decent shape, for a given value of decent. All the perks had been re-installed and even a fresh coat of paint hid the rust. It almost looked respectable. Shame I didn't have any money left, I had to ditch paying the hotel bill. Sorry cat lady. Hopefully it was already in your name.
The area I was in wasn't ripe with opportunities, mid-tech worlds at best with reasonably stable governments. I wasn't going to be making a killing in places like Esanee or Diedar. But at least I wasn't hearing any banjo music.
The RRS cap on my head turned out to be because I'd been doing some work for the Rescue, Recovery and Salvage Group, but given my long term inebriated state they didn't trust me with anything more than simple courier jobs to the main station (which was for the best for all parties involved).
Well, I had a full tank of gas at least. Not really enough capital to get started in the trading business, and besides, I didn't even remember what these planets had to offer. Maybe I could do another message run or two for them and get back on my feet...