CMDR Weasel Delara's log

CMDR Weasel Delara's log, day one.

"Hey! Hi! Hello there! So, let's start this off with style. I'm Wess Delara, but call me Weasel. Not cause I'm, like, a coward or scumbag. But because I'm, you know, cunning. And I've been bouncing off the walls since age two. Anyway, this is a commander's log! These things are supposed to be important. Like, if the weasel goes pop, this'll let people know why and how I <censored> up. Also, if I go missing, this might help find out where I went. For the record, check Dezzet's Funcade before sending out a search party. I usually wash up there sooner or later. I've also been told that this helps with keeping a sound state of mind. That you can't really tell people about some of your jobs and confessing them to this thing helps. Little do they know that I've been talking to myself for years. Not because I'm crazy or anything. Keeps me on task and I'm an excellent conversationalist."

"So, moving right along, Weasel Delara. That's me. Now, you might not recognize the last name 'Delara', but trust me, you know us. If you've ever been to the Cubeo system, and most potential listeners have, you've probably stopped at a station or port for a bite to eat. That's our world. Shopping centers, commerce hubs, stations, anywhere that people are in a hurry, we make eateries. We specialize in fast food, eateries that can provide quality to large numbers of people in a hurry. We have The Noodle House, Tacorito, Pizza Go, Box Dragon and, our most popular establishment, Megalith Burger. Our Duke of Cheese burger is a massive seller, and our Royal Meals are big with the kids. Whenever our toys are Princess accessories, they sell right out. Our food isn't gourmet or prepared with only the most expensive ingredients, but it's fast, affordable and good. I love the family business."

"So, that brings up the big question. What the hell am I doing in space? I could have just become another executive. I mean, I'm in the family. I pretty much have a ticket to the easy life. But the thing is, we have enough people in suits making decisions. We've actually run into a problem. See, we've grown. That's good and bad. Good, because, hey, more money. But bad because suddenly, we're a target. Our shipments are bigger and more frequent. Since we're in multiple stations and facilities, we're constantly moving things around. Bandits have taken notice. Since our ingredients are meant to be cooked fast and easy, they can sell very well in the markets, if stolen. And that's ignoring the maniacs who want the equipment, fuel or even our toys for resale. <Censored> savages."

"That's where I come in. I always liked flight simulators as a kid. I mean, everyone wants to fly a space ship. Those games where you're the brave commander out to hunt down the pirate squad? I ate those up. Turns out I was good at them. Really good. Now, it used to be that when my family had a problem with bandits or a sudden shipment, we'd hire mercs. That solved the problem most of the time. But most of the time means that, sometimes, we were left in a bad place. You had the pilots that would ditch us for jobs that paid better, or if the bandits did. Then you had the pilots who were doing five jobs at a time and we just ended up being last on the list. By then, too late. Of course, my favorites were the pilots who would take us, then ditch at the last minute because they just 'didn't feel like it'. Thanks s. So, it was decided that a reliable pilot would be a good thing, someone who was loyal and could handle those sudden jobs. Someone bound by something deeper than money."

"So that's me. I was enrolled in the Pilot's Federation, fully funded by my family. They paid for the education and even bought me a ship. All I have to do is solve any big crisis that comes up. And I even get the fee they'd usually pay a mercenary. It works out really well. Now, there aren't too many problems that happen, maybe one every few weeks, so I have lots of free time on my hands. Bounty Hunting's my favorite pastime. Earn money, clean up space, can't go wrong. Now, my ship is the 'Mustelid'. It's the scientific category for weasels. It's a Python, which the family decided was the best all around ship. A Python can do anything. It can deliver, mine, hunt, take a beating, and anything bigger is just way too slow. It's not a ship of luxury, but substance over style. Besides, I've made some improvements to the interior. It's pretty livable."

"Anyway, that's where I stand. That's me in the universe. Truth be told, we're not a bad company. I mean, our prices are low, our workers are taken care of and we feed people. What's more, we like the Empire. We want to give back. I want to give back. The Federation would create an environment of uncontrolled corporate backstabbing and the Alliance would create a fragmented galaxy of cultures too mixed to fully cooperate. I believe in Aisling's vision of what the Empire should be and what it should stand for. So, I'm going to be Delara Foodstuffs' way of aiding that vision. I'm our way of giving back. Bounty hunting, aiding fellow corporations, I'll be a well paid agent of positive change. I am controlled, responsible capitalism. And in that way, I am what makes the Empire great."

"Groovy."
 
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CMDR Weasel Delara's log, day three.

So it finally happened. My company needed me. I knew they would eventually. I mean, clearly they did too since they bought me the ship, but waiting for that first test was a little hellish. I had lots of time to contemplate how I would handle whatever theoretical situation was thrown on me and even more time to list all the ways I could possibly screw it up.

Alright, context. If you're not from around here, one thing you have to understand is that Aisling Duval is a media darling. She's not like some of the other Empire senators and leaders where the Empire is this ancient, sacred thing that you're supposed to avert your gaze from. Her Empire is modern. It's bright, it's glamorous and it's accessible. It's not something just the rich get to experience. With her, the Empire's on your TV, in your shows, on products and in your hand. It's a trendy, fashionable thing that you don't just revere and bow to, but experience. She brings the Empire to the common man. She makes you want to be a part of it.

So, our Megalith Burger establishments tend to follow a royal theme. Kids get Royal Meals, there's lots of gold coloring in the decorations, we're sure to have appropriate music and TV programs about and we throw in a lot of royal names, references and contests. Our biggest contest is the 'Your Majesty' giveaway. It's fantastic. We put peel off stickers on the meals. A whole bunch of people get free food, which evens out in profits since so many people want to play, and it's a very accessible, common prize. But there are bigger prizes. We give out some tickets to events, a personal ship or two, some cash and a grand prize. You win it all, you get a bundle of cash and a week long trip to your choice of ten resort worlds for a vacation you design. Best part? If you win anything, the cashier calls you 'your majesty' when you get it. And that's ignoring the Princess line beauty products and Empire hero figures for the kids.

Someone tried to jack our <censored> shipment. They didn't want the food. They told the pilot specifically to 'eject the Your Majesty game pieces and toys'. AND TOYS! Now, the pilot floored it into FSD and managed to bail out in one piece, though his transporter looked beat to hell. In other words, it could have gone the other way on a bad day, and with how many shipments we were going to have going in, this wasn't something we could hope wouldn't happen again. We didn't know if we were being specifically targeted or if these were just opportunistic thugs who took on the first target they saw. That being said, we didn't really care. You do not <censored> with our contests, you do not <censored> with our employees and you do not <censored> with our customer's products. I was given the order to make sure this did not happen again.

I'm not gonna lie. I got really excited. This was my first official job from the company! I was gonna make my family so proud. I had to. I had the jitters something fierce though, so I decided I'd help myself concentrate. I wasn't used to being so nervous and had no idea how to medicate it, so I drank four of those little energy things and a bottle of Green Glow soda. Looking back, I probably could have done a bit more research and measured more carefully, but those little energy shots tasted so good. They should not taste like chocolate milk, that's just asking for trouble.

When I came out of warp in my Python, I think my teeth were vibrating. I was experiencing levels of energy I hadn't felt since I was six years old. To make things worse, the <censored> theme from Packed Residence was stuck in my head. You know that show. The terrible old sitcom with the guy from Cubeo's Wackiest Home Videofeeds. Packed Residence. Now, my instructions were clear, but the target was vague. The shipment driver hadn't got a proper scan of the offenders. He just knew a general area. So my general plan was to pop any poor sap with a bounty near the Nav Beacon where they jumped him. I'd probably get the guys if they were still around and if not, I'd send a message. I'd just have to be sure to let people know why I was murdering criminals.

So I was in a Python. A well loaded python which had a loyal (but slightly unsettled) crew and one that I could fly rather well. Things did not go well for the scrappy vipers and cobras with bounties. There was a Vulture or two, but I was taking things on one at a time and charging like a maniac from target to target. They'd warp in and I'd just hurdle toward them, unloading as soon as any bounty came up on the scanners. The whole time I was screaming the Packed Residence theme because I couldn't seem to stop my throat from producing sound. I think that was the third energy drink. I was yelling it over comms, of course, sure to replace some lyrics with (extremely creative) threats against people who steal from fast food shipments. I had to send a message.

Actually, time out, can I ask a question? What in the good <censored> is wrong with some of these pirates? Who in their wildest <censored> dreams tries to hold up a Python with a sidewinder? I know the motto is 'get rich or die trying', but do they realize that 'die trying' isn't a preferable outcome? The idea isn't to get one or the other as fast as possible and when you're threatening a fully armed Python, your 'get rich' to 'die trying' odds are somewhere around 'Kumo crew member with college education'. Looking back, I probably didn't need to use the cannons on that poor <censored>, but I had to be sure that stupid was removed from the gene pool. He could have had children. There could have been more of those stupid sidewinder <censored>s. It could have been a family business. But it's not and you all have me to thank for it. But I'm no hero. I'm just doing god's work.

Alright, so I'm screaming the Packed Residence theme song and half comprehensible warnings about stealing from our company at everyone in the area, and if someone had so much as a parking fine, they were lit up. I went at this for a good thirty minutes of blurred, primal space-rage before it was just normal people warping in. I think my message got through pretty clear. I imagine word had gotten out to the local gang crews that there was a <censored> psychopath at the Nav Beacon and they should probably avoid it.

For the rest of the day? Not so much as a peep of trouble with our shipping vessels. Every delivery was clean, prompt and left alone. My family was quite proud, though I was sure to speak through voice coms and not video. I'm absolutely certain I looked like a rabid monkey. Really though, I have to say, I'm proud of myself. Maybe next time I shouldn't try and medicate before a fight, lest I come across as a cracked-out maniac (being called 'Weasel' does not help). But, you know, no harm, no foul. Praise be to the Packed Residence song. It is the white-hot flame of my vengeance which will burn away the scum of the galaxy.

Alright, these energy drinks have mostly worn off. The only reason my head is still up is because I've propped it against a lamp. You know, I did good. Tomorrow? That's a sleep day. It's the containment period before a tranquilized animal can re-enter the wild. Weasel did good. Weasel did so good.

Weasel is out.
 
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CMDR Weasel Delara's log, day twelve.

So it happened. Lo and behold, gods be praised, the universe is sunshine and rainbows for me. I got an Anaconda. Now, I'm aware that I had it easy. My family spotted me a Python to start with. I mean, I started just one (large) step away. I hear most new pilots barely have enough for a Sidewinder. I'll never know what that feels like. I was definitely born with the silver spoon.

Still, I've proven to my family and myself that I'm not just some rich kid who's got no clue how the universe works. I didn't fly my ship into certain death in search of glory and wealth. I didn't burn out and go whimpering back to safety blanket of the family business. I was smart, careful and played the market with calculation and strategy. All the while, I fixed our problem of needing to rely on mercenaries for shipment troubles. As usual, there wasn't too much, but what came up was settled quickly with my Python.

Am I the greatest commander in the stars? Probably not. I've just wiped up some bounty trash and run safe trading routes, but I'll be damned if I can't make a nice profit. The rest of the family has approved the idea of getting a bigger ship. Having such a large ship to represent Delara Foodstuffs and solve any problems will certainly be a nice feather in our cap.

I now have twenty nine reliable crew members, bringing the occupancy to a total of thirty with myself. They're aware of my ability and cautiously optimistic, which is what I want. After all, I want a crew ready to call me on mistakes and voice concerns. What the hell's the point of a crew if you don't use the collective knowledge? I don't want robots. While my word will go and I have final say, if I'm unaware I'm making a mistake or there's an easier way to do things, I want a crew that's unafraid to talk to the commander. So far though, they seem pretty pleased. Once they realized I'm not a young moron hellbent on finding glory, everyone settled in nicely. I've named the ship 'The Duke'. For I am The Duke of Weasels. Long may I reign. Speaking of, 'Commander Delara' didn't last long. I was 'Commander Weasel' almost immediately. Sure, why not?

Honestly, from here, I think I stick with the Anaconda. There's not much to 'move up' to. The only other ships in its class are the Corvette and the Cutter. I am not flying a Federal ship, so the Corvette's out. As for the Cutter, the thing is, my family isn't royalty. We're business. Now, that's not to say we don't matter, or aren't important. It's just with business, your power is financial and indirect. We're not like the Federation where business and politics are often wrapped up. The government often alters business, not the other way around. They give us lucrative contracts and marketing, we just don't have a major political pull. Now, we do know and work with a few politicians and maybe if we pulled strings that way, I could get a Cutter, but really, rather than give us a major voice, the Empire tends to give us a good profit instead. As such, when we need problems solved, we often turn to the private sector. Lo and behold, the private sector has a ship that can compete with both 'large' government ships. The Anaconda.

Anyway, now that I have this ship, I'm going to be able to take on bigger and more important jobs. As such, it's in my best interest that I become politically educated. I am, to a degree, but often times I don't pay attention. My eyes are on the business sector of Cubeo. That should change. I may find myself working for more political organizations, as they often tend to hire pilots like me. I'm not against the concept. I'd just like to make sure I'm working for the right ones.

The big one these days is the Prismatic Imperium. These guys I know. Our restaurants have often done promotions through their marketing division, but they're much bigger than that. I've just never looked past the part of them that works with our company. From what I gather, it's this big conglomerate with corporate, military, political and media aspects. It's a massive group that seems to be driven by a general 'pro-Aisling' mentality. I mean, it's a good idea. The more organized we are, the better we can all respond when things come up. The concept of generals, businessmen, reporters and nobles all on the same page lets us work together in really cool ways.

It definitely makes me feel a little bit better when I hear some pieces of news. For example, the leader of their military branch is someone named 'Jessie Ladd'. The only thing I know about this guy is that he's very tough on crime. In fact, one of my crew, a cargo worker, insists that he's borderline psycho on crime, according to some underground broadcast. And this guy's just commissioned a ship to be built. Like, a really big one. Some state of the art carrier ship that looks like it belongs in the hands of the official military and not a local group. It looks like it could just wipe a battle clean.

But the thing is, I'm able to step back. Looking at the big picture, it's not so scary. It looks like this group has a fair amount of checks and balances, and what's more, has the support of the Princess. If this Jessie is really a bad person, I doubt he'll be in command for long. But they support him. If the Imperium has faith in him, I'll stop looking for what could go wrong and focus on what could go right. A ship like that? Wings of pirates won't stand a chance. Anyone looking to start trouble will have second thoughts. What's more, it'll be a symbol. I believe that Aisling Duval's vision of the Empire is the greatest form of governance the galaxy has to offer. A sign of our majesty and might couldn't hurt.

You know, I think I'm gonna get in touch with them. They know my family's business, but now that I have a fully fitted 'conda, I think they should know me too. The family business doesn't have too many problems, so I have lots of time to pursue personal jobs. If I help these guys, I'd be making Cubeo a better and more desirable place. Increased traffic to our starports means more business for our restaurants there. It all works out. That's what I'll do. Tomorrow, Commander Weasel's gonna put on his best smile and make some new friends.

Also, I've been thinking of getting a new helmet. One that looks like a weasel head. Little ears on the helmet, draw a cartoony weasel face on the visor, get some brown and white color in there too. Too much?
 
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