[147 / 7 / 16]
Quoted By: >>5885251
FRINGE WORLDS
Aboard the <span class="mu-i">Flow My Tears]
The Point is beautiful, as always. Not just because of the stellar setting that its original creators decided to build it in, but because it’s one of the few places in the galaxy that you can dock at while flying your own colors. Fleet’s crackdown over the last quarter had seen the demise of a great many spacers’ holes in the Fringe, but the Point had survived yet unscathed, the home to dozens of other pirates, bounty hunters, mercenaries, and other ne’er-do-wells who sought refuge from the Federation’s long arm. You look on the station fondly, remembering well the first time you had caught sight of it: young, scared, lucky that you even caught a glimpse. It had been the end of your first voyage.
And now it was the end of another one. Your operations officer is already chattering with the station’s traffic controller for a place to dock, so you sit back and watch as your ship slowly drifts forward. The raid on the General Systems station had been much better than you anticipated: not only did you get the loot and information you came for, but a few new recruits and a prize ship as well. The ship… you would have to decide about. The new crew would work their way into the system over time, or get washed out quickly. One advantage of impressment, you muse, is that it builds a crew with a variety of backgrounds. It was exactly how you’d managed to succeed as a newcomer. Who knew when you’d raid another General Systems target, and need someone with insider knowledge?
“A station of misfits,” Shis’so comments, and you crack a grin.
“United in one cause,” you reply in good humor. “There’s the Lucid Nonsense.” You point to Icoman’s ship, or rather to where the representation of it floats in the tri-D tank. It’s smaller, perhaps a quarter of your tonnage, but it’s bristling with guns, floating a few hundred kilometers away from the station. You consider opening a channel to hear what he’s got to say, but before you can pursue that impulse, ops speaks up. “We’re confirmed for berth forty, captain.”</span>
Aboard the <span class="mu-i">Flow My Tears]
The Point is beautiful, as always. Not just because of the stellar setting that its original creators decided to build it in, but because it’s one of the few places in the galaxy that you can dock at while flying your own colors. Fleet’s crackdown over the last quarter had seen the demise of a great many spacers’ holes in the Fringe, but the Point had survived yet unscathed, the home to dozens of other pirates, bounty hunters, mercenaries, and other ne’er-do-wells who sought refuge from the Federation’s long arm. You look on the station fondly, remembering well the first time you had caught sight of it: young, scared, lucky that you even caught a glimpse. It had been the end of your first voyage.
And now it was the end of another one. Your operations officer is already chattering with the station’s traffic controller for a place to dock, so you sit back and watch as your ship slowly drifts forward. The raid on the General Systems station had been much better than you anticipated: not only did you get the loot and information you came for, but a few new recruits and a prize ship as well. The ship… you would have to decide about. The new crew would work their way into the system over time, or get washed out quickly. One advantage of impressment, you muse, is that it builds a crew with a variety of backgrounds. It was exactly how you’d managed to succeed as a newcomer. Who knew when you’d raid another General Systems target, and need someone with insider knowledge?
“A station of misfits,” Shis’so comments, and you crack a grin.
“United in one cause,” you reply in good humor. “There’s the Lucid Nonsense.” You point to Icoman’s ship, or rather to where the representation of it floats in the tri-D tank. It’s smaller, perhaps a quarter of your tonnage, but it’s bristling with guns, floating a few hundred kilometers away from the station. You consider opening a channel to hear what he’s got to say, but before you can pursue that impulse, ops speaks up. “We’re confirmed for berth forty, captain.”</span>
