Being a sole-trader, an utterly insignificant mote lost in infinity. All alone in my tin-can, navigating through the deep unforgiving blackness of space, and somehow, despite all, surviving and even prospering. This is Elite for me.
I'm not the chosen one, I don't form part of any band of super anythings, I don't have some special destiny to find, nor some particular someone to rescue, nor evilness to destroy.
I am a pilot in a ship, you'll find me somewhere that no-one's much heard of, let alone visited. I try to stay on the right side of the law, unless the money's right, and every repair and refit bill makes me wince. But if you mess with me, try to stop me from doing what I've set out to do, or scratch my paintwork, you'll either find yourself in a fight, or chasing a vapour trail. I'm not some honourable warrior, I'll fight the fights I think I can win, and run from those I think I can't, and from those I'm losing.
It's very unlikely I'll ever make any Elite rank, but I don't care. I doubt I'll ever be some faction's vice admiral, I don't care. I care about my ship, the next one I want to buy, and the sheer fun of doing what I want when I like.
See you in the black Cmdrs o7
Amen.
o7