Ok, here it is. I'm about to tell you what is real. 100% real – the purest truth you're going to come across on these forums. Are you ready? Listen.
We've got a problem. The Type-7 needs some major love. It's sort of a stunted, weird mutant of a craft. Carries less than a python, but needs a large pad. It's the stepping stone between the Type 6 and the Type 9 that everyone with any sense of self-respect steps right over. If you're going to restrict yourself to large pad, at least get an Imperial Clipper so you can have some sense of class when you're flying a ship that should be able to dock at an outpost, but can't.
Because seriously, who flies a Type 7? A chump, that's who. Some sort of schmuck who thought it would be cool to own his own business, see the stars, and have some adventure - but now is stuck hopping back and forth between some backwater Coriolis and planetary outpost with 3G's, trying to turn a dime selling fruits and vegetables or hydrogen fuel. Some sort of Johnny Space Plumber. Real salt of the earth sort of people. Real rubes.
But listen, those people aren't going anywhere. They're stuck in a rut, but at least we can accord them some basic level of dignity. Some gesture that says, “You're in a dead end job in a dead end town, but you're still cooler than your dad.” And I'm about to tell you how we do that.
Airbrushed.
Wizard.
Mural.
Skins.
I told you this was going to be real. You didn't believe me, but here it is. Take a few minutes and let this sink in slow because it's so heavy you've gotta be careful not to drop it.
Think about it. I'll wait.
Awwwww Yeeeeaaaaaahhhhh. You know it. You looked into your heart and you saw it there looking back - maybe it was holding an orb with some lightning, or maybe it was holding a staff and shooting a fireball at a dragon – but some part of your soul just coveted a mural of a wizard on the side of a van.
What is the Type 7 but the conversion van of the future? Too big to park easily. Too small to really haul a lot around in – but you could probably sleep one off in the back, if it came down to it.
A wizard on the side of your ship makes a statement – you're not playing the same game as all these other yuppies in their Cutters and Corvettes. And they might sneer at you, but deep down they'll know a dark and gnawing regret. Because they'll never know what freaky fun is going on at 3am Saturday night behind the bulkhead with Gandalf painted on it.
So how about it? Are you gonna keep grinding out that expensive kit like your parents keep nagging you to, or are you gonna hammer-down across the space lanes on your own terms? Let them know that Merlin's your co-pilot.
We've got a problem. The Type-7 needs some major love. It's sort of a stunted, weird mutant of a craft. Carries less than a python, but needs a large pad. It's the stepping stone between the Type 6 and the Type 9 that everyone with any sense of self-respect steps right over. If you're going to restrict yourself to large pad, at least get an Imperial Clipper so you can have some sense of class when you're flying a ship that should be able to dock at an outpost, but can't.
Because seriously, who flies a Type 7? A chump, that's who. Some sort of schmuck who thought it would be cool to own his own business, see the stars, and have some adventure - but now is stuck hopping back and forth between some backwater Coriolis and planetary outpost with 3G's, trying to turn a dime selling fruits and vegetables or hydrogen fuel. Some sort of Johnny Space Plumber. Real salt of the earth sort of people. Real rubes.
But listen, those people aren't going anywhere. They're stuck in a rut, but at least we can accord them some basic level of dignity. Some gesture that says, “You're in a dead end job in a dead end town, but you're still cooler than your dad.” And I'm about to tell you how we do that.
Airbrushed.
Wizard.
Mural.
Skins.
I told you this was going to be real. You didn't believe me, but here it is. Take a few minutes and let this sink in slow because it's so heavy you've gotta be careful not to drop it.
Think about it. I'll wait.
Awwwww Yeeeeaaaaaahhhhh. You know it. You looked into your heart and you saw it there looking back - maybe it was holding an orb with some lightning, or maybe it was holding a staff and shooting a fireball at a dragon – but some part of your soul just coveted a mural of a wizard on the side of a van.
What is the Type 7 but the conversion van of the future? Too big to park easily. Too small to really haul a lot around in – but you could probably sleep one off in the back, if it came down to it.
A wizard on the side of your ship makes a statement – you're not playing the same game as all these other yuppies in their Cutters and Corvettes. And they might sneer at you, but deep down they'll know a dark and gnawing regret. Because they'll never know what freaky fun is going on at 3am Saturday night behind the bulkhead with Gandalf painted on it.
So how about it? Are you gonna keep grinding out that expensive kit like your parents keep nagging you to, or are you gonna hammer-down across the space lanes on your own terms? Let them know that Merlin's your co-pilot.
