One for the veterans... 
--
Personal Log, 22 November 3300
I wake with a jolt, far from a welcome impulse; my head’s pounding like multicannon fire. What did I drink last night? What had the occasion even been? Some anniversary from the war of independence, I think; the people of Azeban City did like to remember that, after all.
Not like there was any shortage of supplies, either - most people had frequented the local markets and brought a few tons of Eranin Pearl Whisky… Well that explains it. As memories slowly start thrusting upwards out of the haze I relax, happy that things are returning to normal. That is, until I glance out at my surroundings; something’s not quite right...
I have no memory of this place. Must be some deck of the starport I’ve never been in before; can’t tell much though, hard to get a good look out of the sleeping p-
I’m in a sleeping pod. Hang on, why am I in a sleeping pod? There’s no need for them, starports have artificial gravi-
There’s no gravity. Aucoks. Where am I? Did my so-called friends shuttle me over to Eranin 4 Survey again for a laugh? I will get them back so hard for this. Just as soon as I work out how to get out of this thing.
Having detached myself from the pod, I find some magnetic boots and inspect the rather utilitarian room. I remembered the Survey outpost being a bit more modern on my last visit; this looks different, older. Poking my head out into the hallway, I spot identifying stickers on the wall.
Where the hell is Trevithick Dock?! Is it that weird outpost in Aulis that nobody ever goes to? The one with the funny little station manager? No, doesn’t sound right. Think, think… I’ve been to quite a few stations in my short career as a Pilot’s Federation commander, but amongst all the other bells still bouncing around in my head, Trevithick Dock doesn’t even vaguely ring one.
Still, my ship’s computer will be able to tell me where I am, if I can locate it; to my surprise, I find my access chip intact and still in my pocket.
Walking down the hallways towards the landing bays, I start to regain the mental capacity to wonder if I’m in a bit of trouble. I’m in a strange outpost I’ve never heard of, with no memory of the last twelve hou- wait, what time is it - right, the last sixteen hours. Lords, there had better be some answers in that old Cobra hull, once I finally work out where the bloody hell the small hangars are. Aha! Directions, what a novelty! Right, pad 2, and…
That’s a Sidewinder. I mean I know they look kind of similar, and I am really hungover but that’s definitely a goddamn Sidewinder. I must have somehow got into the wrong pad… No, my access chip let me into this hangar, which means I have this ship docked here. Did I somehow decide that buying a ship was a good idea last night? Did some slimeball actually agree to sell me one? Christ… Who knows what’s in this thing, too, I somehow doubt I bothered to check the internals.
Alright, the cockpit looks pretty clean at least. Now, let’s check the Galaxy Map; I’m in… LHS 3447. Wait, is that the one with Leonard Nimoy Station? No, that’s LHS 3006… You’d think they’d make better names for these places.
Well, let’s see how far I am from Eranin, I guess it might be a few jum- seventy-three light years? What?! OK, this isn’t friends playing a prank.
I sit back in the pilot’s seat, trying to process what’s happened. I’m over seventy light years from home, in a completely unfamiliar ship that I apparently bought last night… Money. Oh lords, if I bought a ship what else did I buy? Some Motrona Experience Jelly? A luxury cruise on one of those fancy new Orcas? Let’s see what the damage is…
BALANCE: 1,000 CR. That… That’s missing a few zeroes; I had at least a million last night. A Sidewinder doesn’t even cost fifty thousand, where’s it all gone?! What are the chances that I’d have left myself with exactly that much anyway… I wish I could remember more, but everything since last night is still a complete blank. I put my hand on my head, only to feel a sizeable bruise.
Then it hit me: I’ve been robbed. Stripped of all my possessions, my Cobra, my money; all I’m left with is a thousand credits and a boat that probably can’t even do 10 light years… Yep, 7.56. Without cargo. Fantastic.
Well, guess I’d better make enough cash to outfit this bucket and head back to Eranin. What else is in this system? There’s a proper starport, at least: Dalton Gateway. If I have to start from nothing again, I'll at least do it right - let’s see what they’ve got.
Ship released; engines engaged.
--
Personal Log, 22 November 3300
I wake with a jolt, far from a welcome impulse; my head’s pounding like multicannon fire. What did I drink last night? What had the occasion even been? Some anniversary from the war of independence, I think; the people of Azeban City did like to remember that, after all.
Not like there was any shortage of supplies, either - most people had frequented the local markets and brought a few tons of Eranin Pearl Whisky… Well that explains it. As memories slowly start thrusting upwards out of the haze I relax, happy that things are returning to normal. That is, until I glance out at my surroundings; something’s not quite right...
I have no memory of this place. Must be some deck of the starport I’ve never been in before; can’t tell much though, hard to get a good look out of the sleeping p-
I’m in a sleeping pod. Hang on, why am I in a sleeping pod? There’s no need for them, starports have artificial gravi-
There’s no gravity. Aucoks. Where am I? Did my so-called friends shuttle me over to Eranin 4 Survey again for a laugh? I will get them back so hard for this. Just as soon as I work out how to get out of this thing.
Having detached myself from the pod, I find some magnetic boots and inspect the rather utilitarian room. I remembered the Survey outpost being a bit more modern on my last visit; this looks different, older. Poking my head out into the hallway, I spot identifying stickers on the wall.
Where the hell is Trevithick Dock?! Is it that weird outpost in Aulis that nobody ever goes to? The one with the funny little station manager? No, doesn’t sound right. Think, think… I’ve been to quite a few stations in my short career as a Pilot’s Federation commander, but amongst all the other bells still bouncing around in my head, Trevithick Dock doesn’t even vaguely ring one.
Still, my ship’s computer will be able to tell me where I am, if I can locate it; to my surprise, I find my access chip intact and still in my pocket.
Walking down the hallways towards the landing bays, I start to regain the mental capacity to wonder if I’m in a bit of trouble. I’m in a strange outpost I’ve never heard of, with no memory of the last twelve hou- wait, what time is it - right, the last sixteen hours. Lords, there had better be some answers in that old Cobra hull, once I finally work out where the bloody hell the small hangars are. Aha! Directions, what a novelty! Right, pad 2, and…
That’s a Sidewinder. I mean I know they look kind of similar, and I am really hungover but that’s definitely a goddamn Sidewinder. I must have somehow got into the wrong pad… No, my access chip let me into this hangar, which means I have this ship docked here. Did I somehow decide that buying a ship was a good idea last night? Did some slimeball actually agree to sell me one? Christ… Who knows what’s in this thing, too, I somehow doubt I bothered to check the internals.
Alright, the cockpit looks pretty clean at least. Now, let’s check the Galaxy Map; I’m in… LHS 3447. Wait, is that the one with Leonard Nimoy Station? No, that’s LHS 3006… You’d think they’d make better names for these places.
Well, let’s see how far I am from Eranin, I guess it might be a few jum- seventy-three light years? What?! OK, this isn’t friends playing a prank.
I sit back in the pilot’s seat, trying to process what’s happened. I’m over seventy light years from home, in a completely unfamiliar ship that I apparently bought last night… Money. Oh lords, if I bought a ship what else did I buy? Some Motrona Experience Jelly? A luxury cruise on one of those fancy new Orcas? Let’s see what the damage is…
BALANCE: 1,000 CR. That… That’s missing a few zeroes; I had at least a million last night. A Sidewinder doesn’t even cost fifty thousand, where’s it all gone?! What are the chances that I’d have left myself with exactly that much anyway… I wish I could remember more, but everything since last night is still a complete blank. I put my hand on my head, only to feel a sizeable bruise.
Then it hit me: I’ve been robbed. Stripped of all my possessions, my Cobra, my money; all I’m left with is a thousand credits and a boat that probably can’t even do 10 light years… Yep, 7.56. Without cargo. Fantastic.
Well, guess I’d better make enough cash to outfit this bucket and head back to Eranin. What else is in this system? There’s a proper starport, at least: Dalton Gateway. If I have to start from nothing again, I'll at least do it right - let’s see what they’ve got.
Ship released; engines engaged.
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