Out of character

Freelancer has arrived, so this particular story arc is on hold. I have set up a second blog, The Freelance Blogger, which will detail my exploits in this new universe.

George Lucas, Leesti, 23-Jun-3200

More pirates. I worry that the continued killing of pirates is becoming so routine I won't consider their lives worth much if ever I meet one in a bar. I quieten my concerns by remembering that out here, there are worse things than death for a pirate if caught by the authorities.

Arriving at Leesti, Gary Watson's friend picks up his parcel before I've even got out of the ship. Whatever was in that parcel, he must have wanted it quite badly. And once again, the traders are waiting for my furs delivery. I really don't know how they can know I'm coming with furs, but when they discover that I've also brought Riedquater pets, the reaction is mixed. A few of the older traders look slightly disappointed and re-adjust their order pads: I think they're of the generation which trades one product and does it very well.

The younger ones, however, look eager to take as much as they can of whatever animal products I'm carrying. A few even enquire about the meat deliveries I used to run, but I tell them that until they offer a better price, I can't offer them that service. Still, all in all they seemed happy to get another consignment of furs onto the market. I wonder what they do with them all.

On the way from the ship to the market, I stop in at the Tauntaun to re-hydrate myself. I soon forget my troubles and, uh, h'm... Well, a few hours later I bustle off to the market with haste and get my bird re-fuelled and stashed with robots for the trip to Zaonce.

Shifnalport, Diso, 19-Jun-3200

I decided to pay another visit to Diso, perhaps to spend a little more time on the station this time. While I was in Riedquat's bar (a rough sort of place with brawls all over the place), I asked around about the black market scene in Diso. I was referred to a man called Richardson as the best bet for a buyer of my goods.

I arrive, not disappointed. Richardson Holdings is a smart shopfront on the main plaza of the space station, quite a difference from Edwards' Goods Emporium on Lave which is stuck in a warehouse section and kept very quiet. I soon discover that Richardson's plan is more cunning than foolhardy. The shop itself isn't simply a front, it is entirely legitimate. But introducing myself, with credentials, as a trader from Riedquat to the girl at the customer service point, she tells me I'll be wanting the manager and directs me to a small office well out of the way of the main trading area.

I make contact with Richardson and we go to the ship together. He looks the goods over with an appraising eye and makes me an offer I can't refuse. Well, he's the only paying customer I've got, isn't he? But all the same, ¢1254.2/t on slaves and ¢1993.1/t on narcotics are both very good deals, and we strike hands. Another successful sale made, I re-fuel and pick up more of Diso's legendary furs.

A certain Gary Watson has sent out a message to all pilots with a request for a parcel to be carried to Leesti. Looking at the starcharts, I think I can make a jump to Leesti and then press on to Zaonce, so I agree to his request. It may only be component parts for some chum, but I don't mind helping and he's paying a decent amount of cash.

La Soeur du Dan Ham, Riedquat, 15-Jun-3200

Riedquat's security is still not improving. Last time I was here, there was talk of a Traders' Union forming as a sort of counter-piracy protection, but it's been two months and nothing seems to have come of that. It doesn't surprise me, really -- I don't know how they expect to get protection to a ship in trouble when dogfights last about a minute, and to have to let some Traders' Union know when I planned to arrive in Riedquat would be intolerably intrusive, expensive and insecure.

A far better plan would be for a few of us to pilot small fighting vessels and defend a fleet of unarmed trading ships; but we would find that too restrictive on our individual flight plans. In any case, every time I arrive, there seems to be one or two fewer traders wanting to come this way. Still, it leaves less competition for my robots. I manage to shift the entire consignment for a profit of ¢21217.5, a surprising amount of money given the system's status as one of Dante's levels of Hell.

As I watch the robots being taken away from my vessel, I notice the bank balance has made it past ¢200,000. I splash out on 17t of slaves (¢915.4/t), 6t of narcotics (¢467.9/t) and 19t of live animals (¢846.0/t). The loading will take some time, so I'm off to soak in the local bar.

George Lucas, Leesti, 10-Jun-3200

Diso's furs are popular, I can tell. Leesti's pirates wasted no time in tracking down the Cobra Mk III, carrying a full load of high-quality skins and furs, giving my pilotting skills a needed work-out and making sure my laser cannon gets a chance to practise, too. Of course, between us we made short work of the entire group and arrived at Leesti with only minor paintwork damage.

And when I got to Leesti, even more traders were waiting for me to announce the quantity, quality and price of my stock. The hold was emptied by scores of lift-droids from about a dozen trading houses; and the interest in my fur supplies enriched me by ¢39820.2. On the floor of the market, I pick up 41t of robotics for ¢22591.0 and make contact with a re-fuel merchant, who fills the tanks for a jump to Riedquat.

Shifnalport, Diso, 06-Jun-3200

Diso seems comparatively safer, although this is only my first visit and "safe" is a word with little currency out here in the Rim.

I arrive at Shifnalport and am immediately impressed by the Customs officials. Riedquat, of course, has no such luxury, and indeed, has no such concept. Leesti's officials are surly and uncouth; in Zaonce they are more refined but just as intrusive. Lave's officials combine a officiousness, inefficiency and downright intolerance in a mixture I would never have believed had I not had extensive first-hand experience. In Diso, the officials are polite and welcoming. The Customs officer, keen to make a good impression for herself, her station and her system, smiles broadly and welcomes me warmly to Shifnalport.

As a first-time visitor, I'm given a traders' handbook explaining the spaceport and the local economy, and also giving details of some of the available tourism options on Diso. Apparently Telford's Town, the capital city, is quite impressive, boasting the largest single atmodome in the sector and some of the most advanced conditioning systems. The planet itself is, in its temperate zones, 24 degrees below freezing and the local wildlife is of quite some interest in its adaptations.

The Glacial Falls sound like an interesting visit; the guidebook claims that the ice moves at about 1º to the vertical at its steepest and moves at a speed of 6 metres per standard year. From the top to the bottom of the falls, the glacier is estimated to take 30 standard years.

I miss sightseeing. Before finding Diso, I thought there was nowhere really interesting in the Outer Rim.

As a memento of my time spent reading the guidebook, I sell my robots (making ¢16468.2 profit) and buy a holdfull of animal skins. Diso's freezing conditions have given the animal life thick shaggy coats, and some of the animals obviously have beautiful furs. The furs I buy, ¢599.7/t, are cheap and very high-quality. I expect to make a decent amount of money in George Lucas on these!

George Lucas, Leesti, 01-Jun-3200

Leesti's pirates didn't disappoint me as, once more, I traversed the system. A few more scalps added to the roster, I sold my animal skins for the princely sum of ¢34855.8 and picked up an equal quantity of robots for ¢23352.0. Apparently, a few days ago some space pirate and an honourable merchant were both arrested for brawling publicly. Consequently, the local bar, the Tauntaun, was closed for a thorough clean and refurbishment. Must have been some fight.

The other result is that George Lucas is considerably quieter than normal. I decide to take a break from the Lave-Leesti-Riedquat triangle and contact the Diso Consular Office. Apparently, they are a mirror image of Lave — the only democracy for light years around. Sounds like an interesting excursion.

Lave Station, Lave, 27-May-3200

Edwards looked thinner than normal when I arrived this time. The worry must have been enormous, although he refuses to talk about where he went. I handed over the slaves, relieving him of ¢80622.4 for the trouble. He didn't even bat an eyelid once we'd agreed a price. I wonder where he gets that kind of credit from; he surely can't have that sort of liquidity.

Word on the street was that the clampdown started two days before I arrived. The Supreme Director's wife ran out of stims on the day after, and started screaming blue murder in withdrawal two days thereafter. The order was, I understand, revoked that same afternoon. Next time, she'll probably just make sure to keep a longer stock.

We fuel up and get animal skins on-board in preparation for another trip to Leesti.

George Lucas, Leesti, 22-May-3200

Fought my way into Leesti, re-fuelled and am now sat waiting for clearance to leave. I really do hope that a week and half is enough time to let Lave settle down.

Lave Station, Lave, 17-May-3200

The Directorate has been at it again. I think some junior Director has decided that winking at smuggling is not on and that the black market must be stamped out. Presumably he doesn't know about the Supreme Director's personal slaves. Or the same Supreme Director's wife and her, ah, taste for stims. It can't last, but while it does, we all endure the obligatory customs intrusions.

Thnakfully, while winking at smuggling and the black market isn't on, rampant corruption and bribery still are. I carry small stocks of goods — stims, off-world clothes, liquors and so on, for precisely this kind of situation. A 'donation' of ¢250 worth of luxuries sees my ¢2500 fine miraculously disappear. I have to say, the Lave bureaucracy can move incredibly quickly, when it wants to.

Unfortunately, the same forces which gave me small hassle at Customs are giving Edwards a very large headache. Nowhere to be seen on the station, the most I can get out of mutual associates is that he's 'gone to ground'. Whether they mean that literally or metaphorically, I have no idea. Either way, the Supreme Director isn't going to be able to inspect this month's slaves to — but that last infamy of despotic government is unprintable.

I'll off to Leesti to see what's going on there, and return quickly.

Ridley Scott, Zaonce, 12-May-3200

I knew it was too good to be true: the pirates are back on my case again. Still, nothing more or less than the usual ragtag assortment of chimps in Vipers (short work but hard to hit) and apes in Imperial Couriers (easy to hit but take a long time). Why some of these people bother, I shall never know. The goons in the Imperial Couriers in particular have a tendency to fire missiles which the splat right against one of the nacelles of the ship. And they never fly with style, so hitting them is child's play. Basically, it turns into a game of filling a bucket using a shot glass. You know you're going to win, but it's going to take a long time.

Upon arrival at Ridley Scott, I wire the market with instructions regarding the sale of 39 tons of robots, re-fuelling my ship and buying 41 tons of slaves. The price for the robots works out at ¢887.1 per ton, which is fair to middling, I suppose; the slaves come in at ¢843.0 per ton. Almost a straight swap, really.

George Lucas, Leesti, 05-May-3200

Caroline Molotov's warning that the press might take an interest in my trip was as accurate and well-founded as my suspicion that piracy would, once again plague my trip from hyperspace to George Lucas. Neither occurred and I enjoyed a completely uneventful trip. How dull. I spent most of the time reviewing some rather dreary work by an obscure local author whose imagination seemed to be on a par with an Imperial bureaucrat in the Department for Extremely Dull Propaganda.

It was a welcome change, then, when I got to George Lucas. I understand the skins traders had been waiting for my ship to come in for days. Despite the considerably lower level of sophistication of Leesti's trading post, the skins flew from off my ship in half the time it had taken Lave to load them on. A profit of ¢8559.6 on the consignment is proof that this is the business to be in. Unless you don't mind a little bit of dabbling in the black market, that is.

While the attendants rolled out the specialised military-fuel line to my ship, I placed down an order for 39 tons of Leesti Robotics' finest.

"To fill your cargo hold," they tell me, "it will cost you a mere ¢22077.9. See, ¢566.1 per ton is a bargain. These robots, they are the finest in the sector and..." so on and so on. Why they always keep trying to sell me the things after I've bought them, I shall never know. Perhaps the trader just wants someone to talk to.

I look at the charts and realise that I can make it across to Zaonce from Leesti, a change from the usual Lave or Riedquat. Well, why not? A change is as good as a rest, they say.

Lave Station, Lave, 30-Apr-3200

Edwards was completely bowled over by the sheer quantity of slaves I brought. Apparently, Lave's agricultural sector is in need of cheap labour and, the political situation being what it is, immigrants are hard to come by. Not that the destination of the goods concerns me all that much, but it's reassuring to know that they're not being made to work in the Uranium mines of Facece. I bid farewell to Edwards, whose staff look like they have their hands full trying to keep order among the new acquisitions.

Being a creature of habit, I re-fuel and purchase a hold full of animal skins for ¢26556.6. Forty-two tons of animal skins. That's a lot of dead animals, for sure.

The bulletin boards carry little of interest, except for a Caroline Molotov, who wants me to carry a duplication copy of a dream card starring Kate Patrick to Leesti. Whatever a dream card is, and whoever she is. I haven't exactly been following the ins and outs of the Outer Rim's entertainment bubble, but ¢520 just for carrying a small parcel is easy money, so I agree. We meet in the station concourse and I take charge of the parcel. Permission has already been granted for me to leave, so I move quickly to my ship and depart.

Ridley Scott, Zaonce, 25-Apr-3200

I've had this problem before. The standard autopilot seems to programmed to deal with ships just ever-so-slightly smaller than the Cobra Mk III. Smaller enough that, on occasion, autopilots can dent the ship. Indeed, I recall seeing a friend of mine moving smoothly, sedately and serenely in his autopilotted Cobra Mk III straight in the wall of Mars High. Not only did his ship explode most spectacularly, but the station was put out of action for weeks while they repaired the damage.

Today's bump was, thank the gods, not that explosive. All the same, it's ¢200 I'd sooner not have paid, but the convenience of the autopilot seems to be worth the occasional glitch in the software. I understand that the techies in the Federal Flight Laboratory are working on a fix, but haven't been able to come up with a decent one yet. Maybe some day...

My live animals, all 41 tons of them, arrived safely in spite of the machine, and sold for ¢37129.6 in total. My account looking rosy, I invest in a naval ECM unit to deal with bandits' missiles more effectively, and upgrade my class 2 hyperdrive to a military class 3. My ship's maximum range is now 18 light years and she will jump 2 light years on every ton of military fuel given.

We refuel the bird and take on board 41 tons of slaves. Some of them look a little pasty to me, but I don't have time to inspect them all, and at ¢858.6 per ton, you can hardly go wrong, can you?

Lave Station, Lave, 17-Apr-3200

Back in home territory, I feel more relaxed. Edwards has evidently ironed out his problems with the Directorate since I was last here, and has looked up my ETA to make sure he greets me at the dock. I think our commerce must mean quite a lot to him; or maybe he just wants a trip off Lave?

Still, he rubs his hands with glee when I show him the cargo hold. Because he had to lie low last time I arrived, my hold is chock-a-block with black market goods for him and his buddies to sell on. We strike a deal with the stims going for ¢1248.9 a ton. He looks the slaves over and takes the lot for ¢69499.5. His credit rating must have improved since last time, as well.

I wander around Lave Station and wonder about Lave, planetside. We traders only ever see a potted version of star systems like this one. We come and go, we drink their drink and eat their food, but no-one on the station knows what life's like for the ordinary inhabitant of Lave. And for the most part, we don't seem to care.

Reality invades my thoughts with a bump, as I remember that I'm supposed to be taking charge of a consignment of live animals to carry to Zaonce. For some reason, the seller, although dealing through the market, refuses to work with the automatic system here on Lave, so my presence is required on the ship. I hurry back, and meet my seller preparing to leave the hangar. Some delicate negotiation follows and the animals are, in the end, loaded onto my ship.

Re-fuelling takes place with the usual efficiency of Lave's services, and my ship leaves Lave once more for Zaonce.

La Soeur du Dan Ham, Riedquat, 08-Apr-3200

Perfidy! Piracy! Robbery, theft and burglary! Riedquat, in some tantrum, threw out pirates equipped with naval missiles and all sorts. They darn near did for me. My hull was down to 50% integrity and they breached (briefly) the cargo hold. I only lost a ton of narcotics, but all the same, I am very angry. That spacerat pirate cost me at least ¢2466.9 — more if you consider that I could have sold the stims for a profit.

Fortunately, the robots have survived Riedquat's rather rocky reception and we sell them on the open market for ¢1052.4 per ton. I hastily refuel and take on board 17t of slaves (¢907.1/t), and leave immediately, in case any piratical associates recognise me and want to have words...

George Lucas, Leesti, 31-Mar-3200

The customary Leesti greeting (a shot across the bows) was not lacking as I dropped out of hyperspace and into the star system. Short work being made of the monkeys with guns, however, I proceeded to the space station and sold up my goods. Each ton of skins made me ¢215.4, and the market was well-enough stocked to let me buy seventeen tons of robotic equipment for export to Riedquat. It might have cost ¢9729.1 to fill my cargo hold here, but I think the profit in Riedquat will be tremendous.

Lave Station, Lave, 25-Mar-3200

The usual scum tries to stop my arrival, but I slide into Lave with skill, flair and not a few kills added to the rating. Unfortunately, it would seem that my chum Edwards has been taking a little heat from the powers-that-be of late, and has had to go underground to avoid arrest. Hopefully he'll be around next time I drop by — those slaves won't last forever!

Lave Station market has introduced a new ordering system since I was last here. I can order goods from my ship, which should help save time. I get to grips with the new system, refuelling the ship and obtaining 18t of animal skins and furs. At ¢623.0 per ton, the market seems fairly stable. I just hope the animal right loonies don't catch onto me.

La Soeur du Dan Ham, Riedquat, 15-Mar-3200

For all my trepidation, I was right. This place is dangerous — well, at least, furious. I think the rate of attrition in the civil war must have killed off any decent pilots they had, but still they keep coming. I lost count of how many ships attacked me, although the on-board computer suggests that the number must be something like about twenty. Compare that with a "usual" run of three or four and you'll see why I think this place is nuts. Too many ships and too few people with any idea how to use the things.

So I arrive at La Soeur du Dan Ham more annoyed than scared. Annoyed at the idiots who think they can fight just because they've played in a simulator, annoyed at the idiots who think that war is a game where they can send young pilots to their deaths like that, annoyed at the idiots who sit in the space station and drone on about how awful it is. The only idiots at whom I'm not annoyed are the idiots who'll pay sky-high prices for the weapons needed for the war, and that's only because I'm the one being paid.

Like this bird on the BBS, paying ¢1369.8 for hand weapons. Well, I could hardly say "no", could I, but who knows what they'll be used for?

Market sales
5t battle weapons @ ¢723.9 = ¢3619.5 (¢753.5 profit)
31t robots @ ¢1042.0 = ¢32302.0 (¢14830.4 profit)

Market purchases
18t slaves @ ¢905.9 = ¢16306.2
6t narcotics @ ¢466.9 = ¢2801.4

Better head back to Lave before some nutcase tries to blow this place up.

George Lucas, Leesti, 09-Mar-3200

Well, it's official. The "per ton" profit (Lave to Leesti) for my test products is as follows.

Animal meat: ¢46.2
Live animals: ¢171.3
Animal skins: ¢221.1

I'm never touching another ton of animal meat. It's going to be animal skins all the way for me.

I spend a happy afternoon browsing the shops and refresh at the bar. I get a meal in one of the dining areas on the station and generally take the opportunity to relax a little. My nerves are getting the better of me, you see: Riedquat awaits.

In the evening, I fuel up and place an order with the market.
5t hand weapons @ ¢442.7 = ¢2213.5
5t battleweapons @ ¢573.2 = ¢2866.0
31t robots @ ¢563.6 = ¢17471.6

The market quickly delivers my goods and I bid farewell to George Lucas. We enter the fire.

Lave Station, Lave, 02-Mar-3200

Praise Hermes, I found him! Edwards is still alive. Apparently, the Directorate were cracking down on internal "influences", as they call them, and Edwards was told that his name was on the list. Customs gave me no hassle, so I finally got rid of all the goods I'd been keeping for him. He seemed genuinely pleased that I'd not sold them to anyone else. Poor chap doesn't get out of the system much, doesn't realise that most other places in the area don't have prohibitions against stims and slaves. He's the only guy who'll give me a decent price for them.

He gives me ¢25678.0 for 20t of narcotics, ¢22074.8 for 11t of slaves (produce of more than one star system) and ¢6133.5 for 5t of battle weapons. I make a very tidy profit indeed, although I'd sooner we didn't have the worry of the Lave Directorate.

At the market, I decide to try a new tack and a new route. The new tack is to see what the market's like for animal skins and live animals in Leesti. The new route is Lave, Leesti, Riedquat. Riedquat's in the middle of some sort of civil war, so is probably fairly dangerous. On the plus side, it means they'll pay handsomely for any goods I manage to get through the war zone. Looking at the books, I think I shall sell animal products in Leesti, robots and weaponry in Riedquat and then narcotics and slaves in Lave. Off to the market, then, for the first instalment of goods.

I fuel up and buy 40t of animal meat (¢104.8/t), but also take a ton each of animal skins and live animals, costing ¢624.6 and ¢847.2 respectively. We'll see how the market responds to Lave's other goods.

Ridley Scott, Zaonce, 23-Feb-3200

Back in Zaonce, and my reputation goes before me. Someone nearly did for me in combat; my hull damage had reached 45% by the time I limped into Ridley Scott. One or two of the old soaks in the bar looked a little too pleased when I came in smelling of smoke, asking for a Bourbon and a repairman. It may be a nicer place than Lave and Leesti, but I think the people leave a lot to be desired.

Another ¢1800 goes on repairs while I look for a buyer for the meat I've brought. Second time running, I find that there's some sap willing to pay well over the odds for my goods. So I let them. The princely sum of ¢7036.0 makes its way from their account to mine, which more than covers my investment in equipment: a laser cooling booster, scanner and radar mapper.

At market, I pick up some more fuel, five tons of battle weapons (¢537.5/t) and some more slaves (7t @ ¢841.6/t). I'm ready to go back to Lave, and hope against hope I can find Edwards. If I don't, I won't be able to afford any customs fines I get hit with, and that's me in the slammer.

Lave Station, Lave, 14-Feb-3200

On the way in, I have one of the most bizarre experiences I've experienced in all my days of flying. Some worm of a pirate tries to take me out, and on his first pass, cuts it way too close. Mercifully, I'm the larger ship, so I survive the collision taking hits to about 45% of the hull. He, naturally, goes boom-boom. I honestly thought they trained people before putting them in flying machines, you know. I know I had to be. Fortunately, no-one else comes close to scratching the paintwork of my ship, and the hull damage, although extensive, affected no systems and no cargo.

The second strange event is more disturbing. I arrive at Lave, sneaking past customs successfully, and go looking for Edwards. He is absolutely nowhere to be found. Can't find him, can't find his secretary, can't find his warehousemen. There's no-one from the firm anywhere to be seen; and obviously, asking around would look suspicious.

To avoid attracting the gentle attentions of the Directorate's external security department, I go into the normal routine. Read the bulletin boards, go to the market, have a gander at the shipyard, you know. Habit is a good thing and in this instance, profitable, too. There's a chap on the bulletin boards who is simply desperate for robots, and willing to pay twice the market price for them, no questions asked. I ask no questions and take ¢5179.6 profit for my 4 tons of robots.

The shipyard repairs the damage to my ship for ¢1820. The cheek of that incompetent rat! At least I have the satisfaction of knowing that I'm still in the galaxy, I suppose.

I re-fuel the ship, take a flying trip and return the next day, but Edwards still isn't around. Unwilling to hang around any long than necessary, I pay ¢2036.0 for 20t of animal meat and set a course for Zaonce. I want my scanner, radar mapper and laser cooling booster back!

George Lucas, Leesti, 07-Feb-3200

I get to Leesti, dealing with the usual pirate problems as I go, and sell the meat. A reasonable ¢2155.5 profit on the haul is mine. I also discover that Zaonce is out of my range from Leesti: so much for that robots route. I really do need to get to Zaonce, so I decide I'd better stock up on what I can here, go back to Lave and remember to think twice before trying a trick like that again.

At the market, I refuel the ship and then count the pennies. There's not much in hand with which to buy goods, so I go for 20t of narcotics (¢570.8/t), 4t of slaves (¢1048.6/t) and 4t robots (¢551.7/t). Hopefully, I can make a bit of money when I get to Lave.

Lave Station, Lave, 01-Feb-3200

Been a month since I woke up in Lave, now. And by way of congratulations, the Lave police give me a ¢2500 fine for smuggling slaves. I decide that arguing based on the precedent that they let me past last time isn't the wisest course, and meekly pay the fine. I'm going to make a stonking profit on the goods anyway.

Edwards is eager to get more slaves. Apparently, they've not had many deliveries recently and he's running low on stock. He pays me ¢23806.8 for all 12 tons, leaving me with ¢13388.4 profit, very healthy even after I take the fine out.

My cash situation now being improved, I strip the Viper down and part exchange her for the Cobra Mk III which has been sitting on the shipyard's books for a month. Of course, I don't get all my equipment back, oh no. The chimp with a wrench who took the bits from off my old ship has already made off with most of the stuff I had. All I can retrieve is the laser cannon and autopilot.

I fuel up and load my new, high-capacity trading vessel with animal meat. 45t of it, at ¢102.8/t. I check the maps again to see if I'm being as efficient as I could be, and realise that there's scope for a route from Leesti to Zaonce, carrying robots. I'll take the meat to Leesti and then go onto Zaonce with robots.

Ridley Scott, Zaonce, 26-Feb-3200

Back to Ridley Scott. Another classical author, war novels this time. All this landing at stations named after classical authors makes me want to get my hands on some of their works.

Sold the animal meat, making ¢867.6 on the lot. Filled up with more fuel and some more of those slaves. I only made this a quick stop as I want to get my ship back, so set course for Lave very soon after arrival.

Lave Station, Lave, 21-Jan-3200

As I suspected, another round of fighting my way into Lave. This time, at least, I was able to see where the vermin were before trying to engage them. And a few of them even carried bounties, so I made a small amount of money on the side. The police didn't bother me at all, just waved me through. Things could have been hairy; one of the slaves was sneezing all the way through the voyage, but his space-fever cleared up just as we approached dock.

Sold the slaves to Edwards and earned myself a ¢13770.0 profit on the 12t. Loaded up on fuel and animal meat and prepared for another trip to Zaonce. Trading can get so repetitive, so repetitive, so repetitive... Sorry.

I think I might try to get my Cobra Mk III back after the next run. I can carry more goods, and probably work up the cash to afford some better kit.

Ridley Scott, Zaonce, 15-Jan-3200

Zaonce seems to be a much nicer hole than Leesti or Lave. It's bigger than Leesti, freer than Lave, and better-equipped than either of them. I can get the kit I was complaining about not having — a laser cooling booster, scanner and a radar mapper. Now, I can start claiming bounties from the Elite Federation.

I take a look around the markets and make a very interesting find. Zaonce sells slaves. Good, high-quality slaves and at good, low-quantity prices. I'll need a life-support system in the ship as well, but wouldn't you know it? They have those in the shipyard, too. And, if memory serves from my last trip around Lave's shipyard, it costs less to install here than the amount Lave would pay me to take the system off my hands. I could just spend my days exporting hardware from Zaonce to Lave if I so chose. But I digress. I'm trading slaves, not hardware. There's not the money in hardware.

The shipyard get the system installed with admirable efficiency, and I head back to the market. I need to refuel, so order 3t of hydrogen fuel, and settle down to inspect the slaves. It seems somewhat inhumane to measure slaves by the ton, but I guess the whole deal isn't exactly reeking in humanity. ¢835.3 per ton is the price; I reckon my friend Edwards will pay me well over double that in Lave.

Permission for launch obtained, I head off for what may well prove to be another round of fighting my way into Lave and invoking the gods of trade against the local constabulary.

Lave Station, Lave, 09-Jan-3200

Well, that beam laser I bought finally came in handy. Evidently someone saw me in Leesti and decided that my wares looked a little too tasty. In fact, I think quite a few someones saw me in Leesti. I shall have to be more careful. Of course, they were no match for my piloting skills — my Elite record having been wiped, I can hardly blame the foolhardy pirate who thinks I'm a pushover. A scanner would come in handy, though. Flying blind is never very fun. Oh, and a laser cooling booster. My laser kept cutting out at annoying intervals.

Still, I arrived in Lave Station, safe as houses. Got a little nervous when the police came round, but apparently there have been some ships stolen recently and all they wanted was to check that I was the rightful owner of this one. "Everything you see here is mine," I told the officer, smiling widely as he checked my papers. Everything seems to be in order at the local police HQ, so they can't have cottoned onto my activities.

I went straight to the bulletin board and made contact with Edwards. He took the entire consignment off my hands for a cool ¢19859.2. I made double my money on the run!

I'm now making final preparations for take-off, carrying another 16t of animal meat (¢102.2/t). I think this time, I'll see what's happening in Zaonce, a coroporate system the other side of Lave from Leesti.

George Lucas, Leesti, 05-Jan-3200

Why on earth they named this place after a classical author I'll never know. His work was required studying in the Federation, at least while I was a schoolchild, but this is the Outer Rim, the Frontier. They wouldn't know culture if it introduced itself politely and offered to explain the entire corpus of Spielberg. Ignorant yokels.

There's no particular meat shortage in Leesti, sad to say, so I sell my meat supplies on the open market, making ¢836.8 profit on the consignment. Not bad, although there again, not brilliant. I also collect ¢1145.0 for the deliveries I made. I make more of a profit running errands than bringing vital supplies. Shows how much the honest trader is valued in this part of the galaxy. If honest trade won't pay, then maybe dishonest trade will.

Lessti has a vibrant market in stims, I notice. Stims may be legal here, but back in Lave, the Directorate has decreed the use of stims to be illegal. I happen to know a chap called Edwards who will pay substantial sums of money for stims. I just hope the Directorate's police is looking the other way when I dock in Lave.

2t of fuel and 16t of narcotics at ¢566.1 go into the cargo hold. We leave for Lave tonight!

Lave Station, Lave, 01-Jan-3200

Funny how life turns out. You go to sleep in Liaedin (4,3) as a successful smuggler in the "Northern Sectors" with over ¢700,000 and 300 kills to your name, a Corporal in the Federal Navy and owner of a large vessel, decked out with all sorts of kit. You wake up in the Lave system (-3,-6), a fugitive from both Federal and Imperial Law in a practically empty Cobra Mk III, an account holding ¢100.0, and a splitting headache. I just hope I enjoyed it while it lasted. Whatever it was.

Looking over the ship, I realise it is thoroughly inadequate. Sure it's big, but I can't go anywhere or buy anything. So I get it stripped. Four missiles taken off the racks, a 1MW pulse laser removed from the front mounting, as much fuel as we can remove taken out of the hold. Part exchanged for a Viper Defence Craft: it may be a rusting tin bucket, but it's just about spaceworthy, once I add a 1MW beam laser and autopilot.

I get myself a strong caffdrink and settle down to read the local bulletin board and navcharts. There are a couple of folk asking for packages to go to Leesti and I notice that Lave's animal meat would go down well at market there. So off to the market, where I buy 3t of fuel and 16t of animal meat at ¢102.0 per ton. Back to the ship, quickly arrange departure and we're away. Hyperspace to Leesti!

A new experiment

I'm getting back into space trading sims &mdash I started playing Frontier Elite again, in preparation for Freelancer which I ordered a few days ago.

This blog will serve as my space logbook; firstly for a game of Elite and then, when Freelancer comes, I shall move over to that. Expect the first log entries soon, and then sporadically (i.e., whenever I have the time to type up my notes). I may try to make the blog look a little better, but there again, maybe I won't.