The Everest Files...

[Jeverest]

I took a break from smuggling runs to do a few trading flights. I dropped the scanner for a slightly expanded cargo container in the Eranin market.

I swore under my breath...
"Two extra tons is all you've got? Sonofa... aw hell for 1000 creds it'll be worth carrying a bit extra. At least now I can pull that liquor contract"

I stood my own watch while the crews dod their installation.

Two jumps later I find myself bearing down on Beagle 2. Damn. I know they won't be happy to see me there... I find myself recalling the quelling of an insurgent force that resulted in far too many deaths, and a portion of the station shut down for months...

My flight computer is ablaze.
INTERDICTION.

Great... a cargo hold laden with gold and I've got a viper tearing me out of space.

Voice coms requested.


"Shut down your engines or die."

Motherf...

"Not tonight you sonofa..."


I find myself almost foolishly slamming my power into my engines, knowing fully well that I am likely to be outmaneuvered.

The leaden rain pours in. Shields are down. FSD malfunctioning. I'm watching hull strength tick away as my canopy begins tk crack...

FSD comes back online as my hull drops below 30... 20...

I'm not gonna make it.

slam the boosters while performing evasive...

I am in SC.

I MADE IT.

I pulled into Beagle 2, dumped the gold, and waited through dirty looks and curses until repairs were complete.

I survived another one...

 

[Jeverest]

I will be switching to third person in order to bring others into this RP. Participate as you would like.


He sat quietly in a darkened corner of the bar, Earth recipe scotch in hand. He could hear the bar buzzing with talk, and could feel the stares from around the room. He wasn't exactly a welcome customer at Beagle after the "incident."

Jon tried to focus... how did he get ripped out of SC that easily... and that close to the station? And with a cargo hold full of gold... had someone talked? Why hadn't he been paying attention to his scanners? Rookie mistake. Stupid, stupid mistake. One like that only served to get you killed.

He sat quietly, half expecting to take a blaster round or a knife to the back. As he finished off his scotch he left 35 credits on the bar. 20% tip. An old Earthen tradition that largely seemed to have been forgotten.


He walked out of the bar, pulling a wrap around his face and a hood over his head, keeping a hand on his blaster.

He stepped into the repair bay in time to see the crews repairing the subsystems and canopy.

A short, fat little man - the owner of the shop stepped out of a dilapidated office to greet him.

"Commander Everest, I can't believe you survived. Your FSD had 12 holes in it, one thruster was mangled beyond belief, the canopy was leaking oxygen at an alarming rate, and you were leaking so much hydrogen fuel near the power converter that I am truly - truly surprised you were able to even make it into supercruise - much less not enter it without becoming a superheated fireball."

"I got lucky I suppose."

"Lucky is an understatement."

He furnished a 3 inch steelcore round.

"This passed through your seat no more than an inch from your neck! If only your father could see what kind of man you've bec..."

In a flash the fat man was off the ground, a blade pressed to his throat so tightly that he had received a small laceration - enough to just barely leave a thin layer of blood on the blade.

"Don't you ever... EVER talk about my father... next time I'll take your life."


Jon turned and stormed away.

"That will be 1326 credits," the fat man yelled behind him.

Jon simply spit on the floor as he walked away.

 

[Jeverest]

Once the repairs were paid for, Jon headed out to Bootis - feeling like he should try out his new multicannons, he swooped in on signal source.

What luck - a lone hauler belonging to a pilot named Briza.
DANGEROUS
WANTED.

No way I wasn't going to pass up hitting a wanted hauler. I lined up my sidewinder a few meters behind the hauler and spooled up the guns. Hot fire erupted from the front of my ship as his shields held off the first barrage of tungsten-cored rounds.

The second punched through the shield and took his hull down to 50%. My coms were blazing as he begged for his life. He dropped his cargo, and began charging his FSD. My third barrage tore into the hull causing his FSD to fail... within a moment later, I was picking through the salvage.

230 credits and 5 animal monitors? And this guy was wanted? Jeez. What a waste of life...

He slammed the FSD into gear and headed to Maher... his ship catching the opposite orbit, bringing the station to him... dropping out of FSD, he had the beautiful view of dustball, a terribly desolate little desert planet, that was wanted more for its fossil research and resources than as a home... still, Jon had always felt at home at both Maher and the Dustball port... something about the sleazy feeling made him feel as though the combined karmic weighy he carried on his shoulders was nothing compared to the sheer amount of scum in places like these.


After offloading the pointless Animal Monitors to his contact at the black market, a nervous looking man approached him.

"Commander... uhh"

"Everest."

"Yes... Commander Everest... I have a request... my usual trader - his wife just had a baby, and I have to get some food to Olivas Settlement, and people are beginning to starve."

I Quietly contemplated if I really had the time to be flying to Olivas.

"Think about the children at the Olivas orphanage... this will help them.... and I'll pay you 28 thousand credits."

I suddenly found the time...


"I don't have refrigeration in my cargo hold."

"That's fine, the meat will be fine for three or so hours in an unrefrigerated hold"

"Alright... have your guys load it up. As soon as its on deck, I'll head out to Olivas."

Little did he know that something more sinister was on its way.