It’s now been some months since I entered the Eta Draconis system and took up with the 8th Dragon squadron in their fight for justice for Gold Vision Co. It sure made a change from the grind of trading and the Dragons are a great bunch of Commanders to share a few beers with, that’s for sure.
Then there was the Gliese 900.1 campaign, where we’d been fighting to help Emperor’s Grace gain control of the system. I’d had a little trouble with this one as I’d had some financial problems paying off the loan I took out when I bought the Cobra back in Eravate...
A couple of nights ago I arrived in the Eta Draconis system, following a tip-off from a fellow Commander that things were starting to get interesting in-system due to a state of civil unrest during what seemed to be an attempted Federation takeover, and that a sharp entrepreneurial trader like myself should be able to make some reasonable money there.
I’d been running the same rare items trade circuit back and forth for a couple of weeks, spending every spare credit I could on much-needed repairs and upgrades to my second-hand Cobra Mk. 3, the ‘Objects in Mirror are Closer than they Appear’. She’s a good ship, but she hadn’t been particularly well equipped when I’d bought her at a knock-down price from another trader who’d needed to change his identity and get out of system quickly...
“Thank you Captain, my ship looks ready to roll.” Mac commented as he completed the walk-around of his Vulture, Garunda. “I appreciate the efforts. I need to get my ass to Shokwa and join the fight there.”
Mac tossed a casual salute to the hanger captain and headed up the ramp into the ship. Slapping the hatch switch, he made his way to the cockpit.
“The hatch is closed and secured, Mac.” The lyrical AI commented.
“Thanks Kalliope. Systems check please.” McCaffrey plopped into the command seat and began to buckle himself….
“Where the frell is my towel!” He cursed out loud. His head swiveling around like a madman. His hands reaching below the seat, into the side storage, even under his ass, checking the seat he sat on.
“I believe you took it to the cleaners on Monday...
Popov Hub Hanger
July 8, 3301
20:48 hrs, UST
The pad lift slid back bringing the ship safely into the dock. Though safely might have been a bit of an over statement as the ship was smoking heavily. The smell of burning electrical systems billowing out from rents in the ship’s hull. The port side pylon was crushed, the C3 Beam Laser that was supposed to have been housed there, was nothing more than the remnants of the gimbal it once sat upon. The main body showed signs of a severe impact with evidence of laser fire along the trailing edges of the ship. The whine of the engine as it spun down sounded more like a dull rattling hiss, than the sophisticated hum of a Gutamaya power plant . The once proud Imperial Courier had been reduced to a barely functioning piece of space garbage.
The Popov Hub klaxons rang as crews rushed out with extinguishing equipm...