Ever feel like a Carthaginian?

While I've been working my way towards that elusive Sol permit, I've been busy soaking up every vid feed, holo-stream and data blast I can get my hands on relatiing to Sol and Earth. I read some interesting history about a place called Carthage. The Carthaginians were pretty bad-ass. Not quite as powerful as Rome but they gave it a good go. They even rode to war on ELEPHANTS! So why am I mentioning this? Well the federation military seems to have a lot in common with the Carthaginians.

You see, the army of Carthage was made up entirely of mercenaries. Foreign mercenaries. And that's JUST like how the Fed Navy feels. I'm not billeted anywhere. I don't collect a paycheque. Every so often while checking the bulletin boards I'll get contacted by some superior officer (a different one every time!) and given a mission. Some of them are nightmarish. Some of them seem easy. Some of them are downright illegal. There's something very unsettling about all of this. I try to ignore it and focus on the end goal.

Supposedly ferrying goods to commercial docks is a military matter...

After my latest mission, smuggling firearms into a prison colony (look, I don't ask questions, I just do the jobs, OK?) I got a promotion to Midshipman. I'm almost there. I'm just one promotion away. I find the work I do incredibly distasteful, but it's for the greater good. Well.... It's for MY greater good, at least.

But anyway, I found myself at a loose end with no contracts coming my way, so I ended up heading to the bar at Levi Strauss and contemplasting the massive journey I embarked upon just a couple of weeks ago, marvelling at how it all led to this point. The things I've seen, the things I've done... It's astounding. But the things I've yet to do are even more fantastic. It was here that I got into a lengthy conversation with one Commander Chris Simon.

Chris was a veteran commander who had seen for more of the galaxy than me. He smiled at my enthusiasm as I explained the tyrannic majesty of the White Dwarf stars I had seen on my travels.

"Yes, White dwarfs are utterly awesome, " he agreed, "but reserve your judgement on what you call majestic beauty until you see a Neutron Star."

It was like holding a candle out to a moth.

"Are there any nearby?" I asked. "Nearby" was a relative term, of course.

A slightly drunk commander who had been listening in chirped up with "FYI Jackson's Lighthouse is the closest neutron star," before smiling and collapsing to the floor. With renewed purpose I headed to the docking bay.

Just look at the average price of these things!

Jackson's lighthouse was some 176 light years away. With my current FSD it was going to take over thirty jumps to get there, but I was undeterred. However, I figured there was nothing wrong with turning a profit if I was heading that way anyway. On a previous military contract I had managed to... acquire an amount of rare Ophiuch Exino Artefacts. Supposedly alien in origin, although cheap fakes to my eyes, I'd heard people on the other side of the bubble pay handsomely for this tat. So I loaded up my hold, plotted a course and started the long haul.

The journey was uneventful. The sight that greeted me when I arrived though. I have no words, so here are some pictures.

 

Even photos do not do this justice. The swirling plasma jetstreams are hypnotic in their helical twisting. The star itself is so dense it's difficult to get near, but I flew as close as I could, before accidentally wandering into the jetstreams. My systems went haywire, my FSD started barking warning after warning at me, and I was shaken out of the trance I had entered while staring at the neutron star. I headed to the closest system and docked up.

After shifting the artefacts for a VERY tidy profit, I decided to grab a coffee before hitting the long road back to Barnard's Star. I explained to the bartender what had happened whe I got to close to the lighthouse's jetstreams.

"Ahh, trying to boost your frameshift drive were ya?" he asked.

Wait, what? I enquired as to what he was talking about. Appartently if you fly into these jet streams, and your systems DON'T get fried, it will overcharge your FSD allowing you to jump VAST distances in a single go. Four times your normal jump range, by the bartender's reckoning. Well, I thought, that would make the trip back a lot shorter.

I decided to try it. What was the worst that could happen? I mean obviously my ship could be torn apart by gravitational forces and I could be obliterated by stellar radiation... but I decided to try it anyway. Four times normal jump range? That was 60 light years in one go.

Each one of those lines shows a star that can be reached with my current jump range...

I fired up the engines and flew into the maelstrom.

Anchors aweigh, my boys, anchors aweigh

After getting back to Barnard's Star having witnessed the majesty of a White Dwarf, I had new and renewed focus to see everything the galaxy has to offer. I want to explore beyond the realms of the bubble. I want to visit black holes and hypergiants and supernova remnants and nebulae. To use an ancient cliché - I want to go where noone has gone before.

Just one of the many places in the galaxy I want to go.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. My original goal was to see the Sol system, and by Jove I'm going to see it. As luck would have it, when I arrived at Levi Strauss station in Barnard's Star I noticed that there was a Navy recruitment officer! So they DO exist! He offered me a job - take out some pirates in Ross 154 and if I do well enough there will be a place in the navy for me.

This was it. My ticket to Sol. I signed up there and then, and headed for Ross 154.

The contract was to kill 16 members of the Ross 154 boys. There was no intel on where they were hanging out so I just set to hunting. supercruising the spacelanes and interdicting where I could find them. Progress was slow going; my interdiction attempts failed time and again. These buys were just too slippery! Eventually I got my first chance at the prize - when I was interdicted by THEM!

I swear it used to be easier to interdict - maybe I'm losing my touch.

I dropped to normal space, spinning wildly, but I was on the ball. I got my hardpoints deployed and hit the throttle before my hunter even knew where I was. He was in a Sidewinder - more manoeuvrable than my Cobra, but I swear it was made of tinfoil. My beam lasers stripped the shields in seconds and my multicannon tore him to pieces. I checked my mission transactions for the kill confirmation and smiled. Buit that smile wasn't to last - two Vipers had just dropped in and were heading straight for me.

That sidewinder pilot must have gotten off a distress call to his buddies. I needed to take these guys out fast otherwise I would be swamped. And where were the feds? Shouldn't they be monitoring the system for signs of violence? One viper went down, and then the other. I was holding my own, but I'd lost shields. I diverted power to my systems in order to raise them again, but then I heard the telltale "pop" of someone dropping out of supercruise. I thought it was the feds. I couldn't be more wrong.

Seems that people still name their kids after the heroes of legend.

Storming up behind me was one of the Ross 154 boys in a vulture. The speed he was travelling, I knew it couldn't have been a standard fitting. He was guns blazing as he came, and even though I had military grade composite armour on I was still taking a pounding. Then things went bad to worse.

I was frantically trying to spin up my FSD so I could hit supercruise and limp to a station, but as I went to hit the boost the Vulture came at me from above, shooting out my canopy. I panicked as the cabin depressurised, the sound of my own breathing now deafening in my ears. I checked my hull status: 23%. this was bad. I saw no way out.

"Pop!"

"Pop!"

"Pop!"

Oh not more, surely? I was going to die. I knew it. I closed my eyes and waited. But nothing happened.

When I opened my eyes I checked my radar. One red blip and 4 green blips - the feds were here at last! I didn't stick around to watch that party. I gunned my throttle, hit supercruise and limped back to the starport. Trying to land with no HUD is a scary experience. You forget how reliant you are on all of your instruments. Eventually I touched down, ripped off my helmet and breathed a sigh of relief.

I've never been happier to see this sight (this was taken before the pirates blew my canopy)

After repairing my ship I got back into the action. It took me a long time, but eventually I managed to polish off the rest of my quota - most of the biys were flkying Vipers or Cobras and I made reasonably short work of them. When I got back to Levi Strauss I was greeted by a familiar craggy old man in a Navy officer's uniform.

"I'm proud of you Son, you're going to go far. Sit down, I have a mission for you, if you're interested. Covert ops. You interested?"

I was in the navy, finally. If I played my cards right I could be in Sol sooner than I realised. But I needed to gain ranks. I was ready to take on any mission they could throw at me.

"Yeah I'm interested."

"Good. So tell me, you ever tried your hand at smuggling?"

Don't Fly Tired

I swear I've been up and down the Federation for weeks trying to find that old man, or at least somebody who's seen him. People look at me like I'm crazy. Maybe I am crazy. I feel crazy. This... this all feels crazy.

I mean two weeks ago I was going through the same daily routine, fixing vending machines, installing new ones, arguing with people about how I just fix the machines, I don't do refunds... Now there is no structure in my life. I fly to a station, I check the job board, I scout out the bars, I maybe fill my hold with computer equipment and fly 13 light years to another station, sell it on... I do what I want. There are no guarantees. There's no manager breathing down my neck. It's freedom. Real freedom. But...

How many different planets have I seen just in the past week, I wonder?

There's always a "but", isn't there? There's times when I wonder if I'll EVER get to see Sol. There's times when I wonder if it even exists, or if it's just some magical paradide like Shangri-La or Xanadu. People keep telling me the same thing - "Join the navy". That's great, but you know what? There's no damn recruitment offices! You've seen the signs, right? "Federation Navy - don't call us, we'll call you". I'm somehow supposed to try and get noticed. So I keep making friends with companies and organisations affiliated with the navy. I take on all sorts of work - combat, trade, even smuggling runs. People tell me I'm sure to get noticed... but nothing.

It's been keeping me up at night. I've been losing sleep. I'm ALWAYS tired. But you know what, if I can give you just ONE tip for how to fly, it would be this: DON'T FLY TIRED. I was hauling 32 tons of Consumer Technology. Easy run, right? only 2 jumps, and the contract was for a LOT of money. Of course, I needed some funds to start with to buy the damn stuff, but no biggie, I was fairly flush.

So what did I do as soon as I got out the station? I hit the damn cargo hatch instead of the supercruise engage. I watched as my cargo got jettisoned into the black. I tried my hardest to scoop it all up, but as it was technically now legal salvage, I could only sit in chagrin as I watched a Hauler fly in, grab everything and then leave. I must have lost 150 grand on that. On top of it all, I got some very weird looks when I turned up in the station again.

On the plus side, I finally figured out how to use my nav computer...

Later that night I crashed into the side of a station, crashed into the side of a ship that was trying to enter the station, and ended up hauling a full hold full of biowaste to Tau Ceti in order to pay for the fine. Later still (in space, the night ever ends) I took on a job to locate some fish and haul it back to Barnard's Star. Try travelling 50 light year with a hold reeking of fish and shit. At this point I had well and truly had enough. So I figured... why not just go for a journey? The trip from LHS 3447 to Barnard's Star was a wonderful experience - no pressure, the thrill of discovery... why not do the same thing?

So I did.

It was on this journey that I witnessed the most penetratingly beautiful sights I have ever beheld: a white dwarf star. Look at the picture. Just look at it.

Forever burned into my soul.

Mere words cannot express the emotions that overtook me when I saw the remnants of something once mighty. I spent hours say in my ship, motionless, allowing the feelings to wash over me. And I cried. I cried because I knew one day this would all be gone. One day WE would all be gone, and there would be nobody left to marvel at its haunting beauty.

Just the thought of it still brings a tear to my eye.

 And then, finally, I slept.

Dust yourself off and try again tomorrow, CMDR.

Ever have those days when absolutely EVERYTHING seems to go wrong? That was yesterday for me. I should have known something was wrong when I banged my head on the doorframe in the toilets in whatever run down station in Barnard's Star I had holed up for the night. I should have seen that it was going to be one of those days.

I think I even spilled my coffee on my lap at one point...

I've been flying around running missions for the Federation in the hope that they recognise me and see it in their hearts to grant me access to Sol. A crusty old space-trucker I met in a bar a couple of nights ago told me that you have to be pretty high up in Federation military ranks to gain access. He also told me that aliens built Antares though. Supposedly it's not a star, but a hyperdimensional portal or something. So I don't know if he was telling the truth about the permit.

Nevertheless, I've been flying courier missions all over the central Federation area. I got pretty bored though and decided to take on a more challenging mission: to assassinate someone. I didn't really pay much attention to anything other than the reward: over 100 grand! This would go part way to buying me a new powerplant (if I could find a system that stocked them of course!), but also I was hoping that it would let the Fed Navy see my exploits and maybe offer me a job.

I flew to Alpha Centauri and cruised the spacelanes for a bit, scanning every ship I came across. Then I found him, flying a Viper Mk IV. I throttled up and hit the interdictors, but my hands were sloppy as hell on the controls. Over a minute I spent trying to pull him out of supercruise, before he finally managed to shake me off and I droopped out with a shudder. Damn. Now I had to find him again. Once my FSD had charged up.

My window was rapidly diminishing. Once I hit supercruise I started frantically looking for him, scanning any and all Vipers who entered my scan radius. Finally I found him! I started accelerating, but I was going nowhere. I was too close to the damn planet and its mass was interfering with my drive! I watched in frustration as my quarry accelerated away from me.

Eventually I broke free of the planet's mass and started accelerating towards my prey. However after a few seconds he just vanished. He was too far away for me to see what had happened and it was going to take me several seconds to reach him. I searched and searched, but eventually the "incoming message" indicator lit up and I knew what was coming. I messed up. Mission failed. No money. I was pretty sure I had gone down in the Federation's estimation too...

On my way to Hutton Orbital

Oh well, nothing I could do to fix that, I thought. Seeing as I was in Alpha Centauri anyway, I thought I'd make the long trip to Hutton Orbital. I was stocked up on fuel and I was now well aware of how long it would take to get there. I checked my transation logs - I even had some data I needed to deliver there. This could work out well. The Hutton Orbital ceremonial mug I'd pick up there would look nice on my dashboard and would serve as a reminder of all I endured to get it.

Over an hour the journey took, but eventually I made it. Awesome. There's even a tourist nav beacon outside the station. I scanned it and docked, then handed over the data I needed to and claimed my reward. Things were looking good. I checked the bulletin board for any other missions, refuelled and headed out. I was halfway to Barnard's Star when I got the distinct feeling I'd forgotten something.

Made it!

I noticed I had a new message. I looked at it and my heart sank. "Don't forget to pick up your souvenir mug before you leave!"

I FORGOT TO BUY THE DAMN MUG!

I was livid. Nothing was going my way today. I flew a few more courier missions but just wanted to go to bed. I docked up in 61 Cygni and visited the bar for a drink before I hit the hay. Who should I see in there but the crazy old man with his rants about aliens! He looked different now though. Better dressed, more refined. He approached me and I offered him a drink. He declined.

"Son, " he said, "We've been watching you. you've certainly been racking up your fair share of kills on the bounty boards."

"Thanks," I said, grimacing into my drink, "I didn't get much done today though. Nothing was going right."

"Ah, we all have days like that. We could use skills like yours in the navy you know."

"Yeah, whatever, old man, I suppose you're an admiral; or something now? Did the aliens promote you or something?" I turned away, frowning into my drink, just wanting him to leave me alone so I could finish off and head to bed.

"Maybe we'll see you there soon, commander."

A thought occurred to me. Those clothes he was wearing. They DID look sort of military. And had that been an eagle on his arm? What if he WAS Fed navy? What if he could get me to Sol? I turned back round, a thousand questions forming on the tip of my tongue...

But the old man was gone.
 

So near, and yet so far

I'm amazed by the distance I've travelled in the past few days. Isn't it incredible what you can achieve when you give yourself a mission that you're determined to see through to the end? As I drained my coffee and prepared for the final leg of my journey to Sol, I looked out of the station porthole at the roiling mass of 5G Capricorni. I used to think all stars were the same. Now I'm slowly coming to realise that each is unique, each has its own personality, its own look, its own view of the cosmos. I smiled as I completed a purchase order for sixteen tons of computer components, vestigial memories of an ancient song running through my head.

When I reached Carener, my intended drop off point for the computers, I buzzed the Nav beacon. It's become a ritual of mine whenever I enter an inhabited system. Scan the nav beacon, take in the sights of the primary star... and wait for criminals to appear. Usually it's a mostly harmless petty criminal in a sidewinder. Occasionally there might be two or three of them in formation. Usually I consider my targets carefully. But for some reason tonight I was so hopped up on caffeine I was deploying hardpoints before I even stopped to think about anything.

My target: a master pilot in a Diamondback. I unloaded a capacitor full of beam lasers into his shields... and they were still fairly sturdy at the end of the barrage. OK, I thought, this guy's a little tougher than usual. Never mind, I'll just pump extra power to the weapons. A second pass took his shields down, but not without cost. A single salvo of massed fire from the Diamondback stripped my shields and knocked thirty percent off my hull integrity. This was not good.

I diverted all my power to engines and hit the boost. Once I'd put some distance between us, I flooded my systems power channels in the hope of getting my shields up, but I noticed some radar blips converging on my quarry's position. The feds? No way was I going to let them get all the glory, even if that WAS the caffeine talking!

Was too busy fighting for my life to get shots of the Diamondback, but here's a snap of a less implacable foe

I swung round and surged towards the Diamondback. the second my guns were in range I span up both barrels and watched them rattle into his hull. By judicious use of my manoeuvring thrusters I was able to stay behind him in his blind spot. He managed to get a snap shot off the second my shields came back online. I silently thanked the stars and pressed the attack.

Keeping this guys shields offline wasn't too difficult, but he must have had some military grade shielding; my shells were barely making a dent. I decided to power everything I had into the weapons and hit with a full, relentless alpha strike. Sweat poured off my brow as the cabin started to overheat.

Suddenly, the diamondback span round to face me. My shields were gone in seconds. My hull was taking a pounding. Every instinct was telling me to turn and run, but deep down I knew that would be suicide. I turned directing into his path and fired everything I had an a last ditch insane joust.

That bounty is not to be sniffed at!

I was on twenty three percent hull integrity when the Diamondback exploded into a white fireball just metres in front of me. At first I didn't think I was going to survive, but after a minute of stunned silence I glanced at my HUD... and was very pleased to see the value of bounty which had been awarded. I docked up, claimed my bounty and sold off the computer parts for a VERY nice profit.

At this point I had a fair amount of money in the bank, and I knew my ship was really not up to the task of repeated bounty hunting. I needed to fix her up somehow. I filled my hold with Progenitor Cells and headed to Stopover, a plan forming in my mind.

En route to Darkwater Station, I was ensnared in an interdiction attempt. I really wasn't in the mood for any fighting at this point, but fortunately I was able to evade the interdiction and dock with the station.

After selling the progenitor cells for a very respectable 10K profit, I headed to the outfitters. I was in luck. They had EXACTLY what I was looking for. Military grade composite armour. Sure, it was a cool 300 grand, but I figure that's an investment. There's only so much evasion I can do once my shields drop. In addition to the hull plating, I upgraded my power distributor and bought a shield booster. I felt more invincible already.

At this point there were only a few systems left to go through. There weren't many decent trades to make, so I decided to take a slight detour to carry out a courier mission to Tau Ceti. When I reached Lacaille 8760, I headed to the nav beacon as usual and was about to engage the enemy again. After all my ship improvements, survivability was at an all time high. I deployed my hardpoints... and panicked.

My whole ship shut down. Engines - nothing. Shields - nothing. I had five minutes of life support left. What the hell? I had seriously overestimated the power output of my reactor. I didn't want to be a sitting duck, so I frantically looked at my systems. I gathered my thoughts so I could think about what I was doing. The solution hit me like a slap in the face - disable the fuel scoop. I reached out and hit the toggle.

Instantly the lights came back on. My shields started recharging. I was moving again. Thank the stars. I made a mental note to improve my power plant at the earliest opportunity.

I headed to Tau Ceti to complete my courier mission. When I arrived, I thought back to my school days. I remember reading about this place. It was the first human settlement outside of Sol. Pretty much as soon as it was founded, the inhabitants declared independence from Earth. I can't remember all of it, but I do recall that this was basically the birth of the Federation. I never paid much attention in history class, but I found myself motivated to look around. I headed to Taylor colony and took in the breathtaking view, reading the notes in the tourist beacons to fill in the gaps of my knowledge. Then I got an angry message in my comms. The mission! oops! I docked and sheepishly delivered the goods.

Look at the majesty!

Another message appeared in my HUD. I'd received a rank promotion! Apparently I was no longer mostly penniless. I am now a bona-fide PEDDLER! I'm sure many people will sneer at me, but hey, I've come a long way from fixing vending machines. It was getting late and I wanted to get to Sol before I turned in for the night, so I plotted a course... or tried to. I don;'t have the Sol permit so I can't go there. hmph. I decided to head to the system closes to sol, Alpha Centauri. Maybe I could find someone there who would help me out.

I was so tired by the time I reached the Alpha Centauri system. I docked at al-Din Prospect, hoping to shift some of the masses of Tea I'd bought en route, but they weren't buying. There was one other port in the system, a place called Hutton orbital. I plotted a course and headed out.

I had been flying for an hour solid when I realised the little dot wasn't getting any closer. I checked my speed - 1500 times the speed of light. What the hell was going on? I checked my fuel - I was rapidly running out. I checked the distance to Hutton. 22 lightseconds. Huh. That shouldn't take any time at all. I checked again. Oh. Wait... Did that really say...?

Not 22 Lightseconds. 0.22 lightYEARS. This was an IMMENSE distance to travel, even in supercruise, but it was still too close for hyperdrive. I looked at the fuel gauge. It was running out. The last thing I wanted to do was get stranded here. I tried to lock a course for Sol... no joy. Feeling a little deflated, but unbelievably tired, I headed to the Barnard's Star  and docked at Boston Base.

Tomorrow I'll hit the bars and see if I can find anyone willing to sell me a permit.

The voyage "home"

I think there's something in every human that draws them back to the place where it all began. Even if you've never visited Sol, or even considered it, I bet there's something comforting about seeing a small blue planet orbiting an M class star. Something you can't quite put your finger on. Something that says "this is home".

It was this very feeling that made me punch in a course to the Sol system, so far way. I needed to see where we all came from. There's a billion suns in the universe, but I want to see THE sun. The original. The one everyone looked at before they realised there were other worlds out there. I want to see the red spot of Jupiter, see if the stories about it being four times the size of the earth are true. And of course, Earth. There's something almost... spiritual about it. I want to see it for myself. Maybe that will give my life some sort of validation. Maybe it will just be a disappointment. I have to find out.

When I plotted the course, I was some 80 light years out from Sol. It was going to take me 22 or so jumps to get there. This was going to be a long journey, but I was going to make the most of it. Any uncharted systems can be scanned for their data. I reckon I could make about 30 grand in total from that if I'm lucky. Then of course there's the little side-trades I'm starting to get the hang of. And if I get bored... well there's always the odd bounty to collect too...

The first few legs of my journey were pretty uneventful, scanning system bodies and just flying between systems. I was half asleep by the time I reached Ncori, but a dice with death woke me up and no mistake.

I'd noticed a few signal sources around the nav beacon and decided to investigate. Every so often you find some decent salvage, or a criminal just asking to be shot down. I dropped out of supercruise to find one such pirate flying a sidewinder. Easy prey.

Without bothering to hail him I scanned to ensure he was wanted, and then opened up with my lasers, stripping his shields in moments. He started panicking and spinning up his FSD, so I knew I needed to nail him now or lose him (I still ahven't bought a wake scanner, I probably should). My bullets hammered into him, turning his armour to molten slag. He span round and tried to return fire before dropping his cargo to free up mass. I knew I had to nail him quickly, so I targeted his FSD directly and emptied everything I had into him. The poor pirate wannabe popped like an overripe grape.

The bounty wasn't particularly high, but every little helps, right? I started scooting about to see if there was anything worth salvaging, when siddenly two new contacts appeared on my radar. The bastard must have gotten off a distress call before I vaped him. This was a potentially bad situation. Two Viper MKIIIs, closing fast. I considered engaging, but before I could even pitch round to bring my guns to bear, my shields were gone and I was taking damage.

Alsot on autopilot, I retracted my hardpoints and warmed up the FSD. This was problematic. The mass of the ships nearby was slowing down the FSD charge, and on top of that, my cabin temperature was rising. Between losing my shields, diverting all my power to the engine and the HUGE NUCLEAR FIREBALL HUNDREDS OF THOUSANDS OF KILOMETERS WIDE in close proximity, I was at 150% overall heat in a matter of seconds. This was bad. This was very bad. My hull integrity was at 35%, and the heat was creeping up to 180% - and the FSD was STILL only 80% charged. I was certain this was the end.

Suddenly, a beam laser sliced out of nowhere, past my ship, into one of the pursuers. The Feds had arrived, thank the stars. With one of the vipers distracted, I was taking less damage. With my hull at 25% and cabin temperature at 192% my FSD finally came online and I hit supercruise. I decided to try and make the rest of the journey a little less... exciting.

I ended up in the fomorians system and docked ASAP. My cargo hold was full of food cartridges I had picked up about 4 hops back, and I made a tidy 2 grand profit selling these. Unfortunately, the stationw as unable to offer any repairs, so I just took a deep breath and left for LP 754-50.

Once I reached the system I realised I'd completely forgotten to stock up on fuel. Fortunately, the system has an M class star, so I activated the fuel scoop and skimmed its atmosphere. Now, some of you might be doubting the wisdom of flying close to a star when you only have 25% hull integrity left and have never tried scooping fuel before in your life. And to those people I say "Oh ye of little faith!" Sure I almost overheated at one point, but I filled my fuel reserve (saving myself a little bit of money), and headed to Weyn port to dock.

Weyn port lay on the far side of a great gas giant. It was an impressive sight, and I was fumbling around with my camera trying to get a photo when my ship started violently shaking from side to side and warning lights started flashing with the words "escape vector" on my HUD; I was being interdicted.

I dropped my camera and wrestled with the controls, but I ended up getting pulled out of supercruise to face... A single pirate, in his sidewinder. I tore him to pieces. Remembering what happened last time, and the sad state my ship was in, I didn't wait around. I span up the FSD, hit supercruise and moments later I was docked at Weyn Station.

 After repairing and restocking I started analysing traide routes. There was still a long way to go before I reached Sol, but I would try and get a few hops closer before sleep forced me to stop. I sold a buinch of cartography data for a few grand, stocked up on water purifiers and headed out. The next few hops were pretty uneventful, except for the very respectable 6 grand profit I made hauling uraninite to Wolf 896, and the 8 grand I made selling the Tantalum I picked up there at 5G Capricorni.

So here I am. 7 jumps out of Sol. I've got 150 grand in the bank. Im Mostly HArmless, Mostly Penniless and Mostly Aimless. And I STILL don't know how I'm going to get a permit to enter the Sol system.

But I will.

Lessons Learned

After the run to Portriti I felt good. Sure, I was nervous, and yes I may even have had a panic attack while trying to evade an interdiction attempt. But I made it to Portriti, I got my mission reward, and I managed to actually feel alive for the first time since Lyekka died. I still wasn't sure where I was going to go, or how I was going to feed myseklf, but I figured running courier missions wasn't a bad way to pass the time while I thought about it.

And so I picked up another mission that would take me back to LHS 3447. I vowed never to return to Worlidge, but I docked up at Trevithick and planned my next move. Hmm. OK There was someone wanting me to run another data package to Kremainn... I could do that. Not only that, but I had enough loose change to stuff my cargo bay full of rutile. I could make a tidy profit on this run. Off I set, with a few ideas forming in my mind.

Courier missions weren't really the most exciting thing. Oh sure, just flying again made me feel alive, and it was a world beyond fixing vending machines, but I needed more. I had a lot of anger in me, I STILL have a lot of anger in me, and I have some guns. Guns and anger usually result in death for someone, but I was determined to make sure it was someone who deserved it. There was just a few more things I needed before I could properly start bounty hunting.

I ended up in the Yakabugai nav beacon, awash in the glow of the great stars, when an Asp dropped out of supercruise right in front of me. I was only half paying attention to my scanners when they flashed up the red "wanted" message. Without thinking, I fired my burst cannons. He didn't seem impressed, but I didn't care. The gimballed mounts on the lasers kept them trained on him as I watched his shields gradually deplete. He looked panicked as he swerved left and right, but he couldn't get away. Then my ship computer gave me the cue to ramp it up: "target shields offline".

I span up my main cannons. They were nothing special. Fixed mount, bog standard kinetic projectiles, but I was so close that I barely had to correct my course. Round after round stabbed into his hull, his failed boost amounting to nothing as he desperately tried to engage his frame shift drive. But by thgis point he was as good as dead. The federal patrols had him in their sights and blasted him to dust. But I got a message. I had been awarded a 50,000 credit bounty. This line of work could be very lucrative it seemed...

Still, I wasn't going to hang around nav beacons all night. I needed to find some direction. I headed to the nearest dock, upgraded my cannons to gimbal mounts and accepted a mission that would take me across 9 jumps through effectively empty systems, all the way to Drevylada. Before I left however I bought one more piece of equipment: an FSD interdictor. This would allow me to force ships out of supercruise and finish them off if I needed to. Exactly what I needed to hunt my quarry.

The journey to Drevylada took me through several uninhabited systems. The whole way I stopped to scan the unexplored astronomical bodies; that data might be able to net me some quick cash when I get back to station. I also took a couple of photos. There's something pretty creepy about the looking mass of a brown dwarf star.

Two hops from my destination, I noticed a distress call. Encouraged by my previous success I decided to answer it. I mean, why not? I reckon it's about time I got to be a hero, right? That hubris was my first mistake.

My second mistake was to try to engage the three hostiles who waited for me as I dropped out of supercruise. I should have boosted away, spun up the FSD and get the hell out of there. But no. I was invincible, I thought. I can take these guys, I thought. They're only flying Eagles, right? I deplyed hardpoints, and engaged... and fifteen seconds later, my ship lay strewn acroiss the cosmos in a million pieces.

My insurance covered most opf the cost of the ship... but not all of it. I had to take out a 27 grand loan to cover the rest. Christ, it's like being a student again. They'll take ten percent of my earnings until it's all paid off. Still, I guess that's better than not having a ship...

To add insult to injury, ALL of my exploration data was gone, lost in the wreckage of my ship. I had 1,000 credits to my name and I was out in the middle of nowhere.

In times like these, I find the stars help me think. So of course, I flew out to the Drevylada nav beacon to try and work out where to go from here. And again, more criminals arrived. My guns were upgraded, and their ships were pretty basic. I spent a LONG time wasting petty pirates at that nav beacon, losing myself in the thrill of combat. When I headed back to the station I decided to claim my bounties. And I had over a hundred grand. I'd gone from practically nothing to a decent nest egg in less than an hour.

This was the point where I realised that this galaxy is whatever I want it to be. I can go anywhere I want. I can do anything. I have the mens to earn money relatively quickly in order to fund any exploration. And there's a HELL of a lot I have yet to see. I hardened my resolve. I was committed to the life of a nomad, a drifter, a wanderer of the stars. There's many many places I want to see, but there's one in particular that I have an interest in, based on the stories I have heard over the years. I heard you need permission to go there, but I can cross that bridge when I come to it. The system is 75 light years away, and it's going to be a long pilgrimage, but there will be adventure along the way, I'm sure of it.

I loaded up my nav computer, and plotted a course to the Sol system.

You can't go home again...

For the past six months I've been miserable. I've hung around Worlidge terminal, fixing vending machines for enough credits to pay for the vent space where I keep my sleeping bag, scavenging the odd sandwich here and there and just carrying out a fairly secure but boring existence inside this vast rotating tin can.

What the hell happened to me? I used to travel. I used to trade. I used to fight, damn it! My Cobra sits rusting in long-term storage. Every so often I'l go and sit inside her, feel the controls, close my eyes and remember the glory days. Why the hell did I give that up? Rhetorical question, of course. I know exactly why. Seeing your friend's life support fail and his ship implode when you're just metres from rescuing him can have a lasting effect.

But I've been thinking about that. Would he have wanted me to sit around wasting away on a coriolis out in the back end of Federation space? The more I think about it, the more I don't want to admit it. He would wnt me to be out travelling. I only ventured out in the Cobra once. One sortie. He'd be shouting at me if he was here. "What's the point in dropping half a mil on a ship to just have it sit there and do nothing?" he'd say. I can hear his voice saying it.

I'm sick of this place. I'm sick of the stale air and the taste of oil in the water. I'm sick of watching a thousand ships a day fly in and drop their cargo, or pick up passengers, before heading out into the unknown to places I've only dreamed. I'm sick of this consuming weakness I have which prevents me from just getting out there and exploring, and to hell with the risks.

So why the hell am I still here? I've got a ship. It's a decent ship. It's got guns. Not the best guns, sure, but I can defend myself. It's got cargo space. I've got a thousand credits saved up. I shouldn't be here fixing vending machines. I should be out there travelling, trading, seeing the universe. I should BE someone.

That's it. I've decided. This is the last vending machine I fix. There's a post on the bulletin board asking for a courier to take a data package to Potriti. 10 grand reward. I can do that. If I pick up some cargo I can make a bit on the side too. Once I get to Potriti I'll see who else needs my services. I don't know where I'll end up. But I do know one thing.

I'm never coming back here.