+++BEGIN LOG – CMDR AL-POCALYPSE ABOARD *UN-NAMED COBRA 38C-481K* – 15.01.3302+++
Well I was thinking, “Space was quiet tonight.”
Well quieter than usual.
Well actually it’s always quiet so it’s the same volume as usual, what was I thinking?
What I wouldn’t give for a drink right now, that’s it… is it?
Hmm, no it’s not. No one was about in the system, that’s where I was!
Yes, that is more like it, all other pilots seemed curiously absent and I was stuck at this shipping container at the arse end of nowhere, I mean Gabrielli Station.
And so a quick check of the bulletin board was in order and revealed the only available job was for a smuggler
“Subtlety and discretion required.” Was what it said, well I can do that! Mission claimed, I headed down to outfitting to equip my Cobra with the largest weapons available at the station.
I grabbed the illicit cargo, went to the bar, found that this shack was as dry as a nunnery during prohibition and proceeded to launch; at this point I really wished that they didn’t leave so many parts of the station lying about in space where anyone may hit them, it cost me 200 credits to get the bumps knocked out of my ship.
“Anyone have any scotch available?” I broadcast as I entered Candecama, “I’ve got a butt-load of narcotics to deliver but everywhere is as dry as a bone.” Well you’ve got to take your beer when you can, don’t you?
Though someone clearly didn’t approve of this and tried to interdict me, little did they know I had my new Big Guns(tm)?
Well, it may have taken me a bit longer than planned to get my radar up and running, i hadn’t been lubricated for hours, see. Though I soon had the Asp Explorer in me sights and I turned to face with a grin, time to deliver the pain.
It was about at this point when I discovered that weapons require wiring up to triggers, I thought that this just happened, you pull a trigger and things go bang. But apparently not, it seems you have to “wire things up” and “set fire groups”, who knew? Also this even, apparently, applies to chaff launchers.
“Shit! Shit! Shit! VD! VD!” Is what my ship claims I broadcast out to a somewhat confused local system, I think it’s lying. However, I had to run like priest’s first curry and therefore engaged my boosters, which apparently are wired in as part of the basic ship package.
I got away; some little squit who was watching said that this was more to do with the confusion of his attacker than any skill of mine. I replied, well tried to reply, but comms is hard.
Supercruising again I approached the target orbital, this time with greater than usual caution. Another interdiction, the bastards! Can’t they just leave me alone? Can’t they see I’ve got a very important smuggling job going on here and I’d really rather do it in peace! However, they missed! I claim great victory for this!
Then, those jobsworths at station control got all arsey about my docking, apparently I’m meant to deploy landing gear and “Look, if I stand on the ceiling I am the right way up.” Does not get me landing permission. Don’t they know this is space and there is no up?
Eventually I negotiated a compromise, found out where the bar in this station was, located my contact for the cargo and received my due reward.
734 credits?!? Those dirty no good F…
+++END LOG – CMDR AL-POCALYPSE ABOARD *UN-NAMED COBRA 38C-481K* – 15.01.3302+++