"!@#$ this place" Alte said as he looked back at the launch pad, about to board his brand new Starflier with a twenty five thousand dollar credit card. He worked damn hard to get to this point in his life, to finally fulfil his dream of getting into space. He'd been told that the helium trade in his home system of Pennsylvania was lucrative so he thought to give that a try first. He boarded his ship he named "Peacewalker" and prepared himself for launch. He'd only done simulations to get the idea but he managed to flick a few extra bucks into the licence to get him minimally qualified. His simulation training was flawless, however he still hadn't sat in the seat of one and felt the realness of it all. He started sweating a little, nervous as to how he'll react to the phenomenal g-forces he is about to undertake. As the launch timer ticks down, he braces his head against the back of his helmet and closes his eyes a moment. He opens them again and moves his hand to switch on the space suits anti-g pressure function. The counter hits zero but he realizes that a real ships switch is in another place, and quickly panics as he moves his eyes to find it, confined to the locking mechanism holding his helmet in place. It's too late and the ship lifts slowly until it abruptly accelerates skywards, the g-forces hit a staggering 14g and Alte quickly blacks out.


"PEACEWALKER! PEACEWALKER! AVERT YOUR DIRECTION NOW OR WE WILL OPEN FIRE!" Alte woke in a panic as he manages to come too, feeling uncontrollably nauseous and vomits into his helmet. "PEACEWALKER! AVERT YOUR DIRECTION NOW! THIS IS YOUR LAST WARNING!" he looks up and see's he is a mere few hundred meters from colliding with a ship that fills his cockpit view entirely. He yanks on his controls and pulls his ship hard left away from this enormous ship. As Alte turns he notices a massive emblem painted across the side. Liberty Navy. "Oh goddamnit!" he said as his radio crackled into life again "Peacewalker, This is the Liberty Navy, state your name and occupation" unto which Alte responds "err.. Altejago Kreiger, Freelancer" God that felt good to say that for the first time he thought to himself just as his new radio pal crackled back. "What was going on there son? You forget to put your pressure suit on or something?" Alte, being quite embrassed for the fact his first take off resulted in puking, black outs and instantly in trouble with the law. "Uhh, yes Sir. My first flight out solo." Hoping in saying that, the Navy might give him some reprieve. "Be careful out there, don't do that again. Out." He knew what that meant, back to business for the fly boys so as they parted ways the shock started wearing off and that smell came. You know the one; fresh puke. This induced more vomiting which resulted in him coming in to land at Harrisburg Station in quite a state. What a way to make an entrance for your first time on an orbital station. Good one, Alte

After cleaning himself up and successfully undocking from his first space station he carried on his way navigating around the planet figuring out his controls. He'd been told to look out for the thick purple cloud not far from the planet which he would find pockets of abundant helium gas pockets that you can easily acquire through the ships inbuilt tractoring system. He found the pressure suit button amongst other things and then headed out towards the field. The trip there wasn't bad, it was simply quite boring to be fair, a lot of open space that utterly amazed Alte. He had been taught a lot in school but nothing compares to the experience. As the field approached his onboard computer system told him that his scanner efficiency was reduced. Strange he thought, thinking that the field is a gas field that it wouldn't hinder these advanced scanners built into these things. He saw the tiny little bubbles in the cloud and came to a stop, he engaged his mining arrays and started taking pot shots at the helium. A smile started to form on his mouth as the shots were becoming closer together until Alte realized that if you hold the trigger down, it keeps firing.... Within minutes he filled his tiny cargo and shot back to Planet Erie when he new he could sell these bubbles for. He didn't expect much but he figured 35 cube of helium gas might fetch him a good price.


He landed, donned his gear in his cockpit and made his way to the planets spacebourne merchant vendor. He approached the guy and tried to sell it to him "Look mate, 35 helium?" the stout little man with a large bushy beard "I'm not going to give you a cent over twenty eight kay, take it or leave it." Alte stammers, shocked by the amount. "Twenty eight thousand dollars? How many loads do you want?!" This amount far exceeded what Alte was thinking he was going to get. Maybe a few thousand but not nearly thirty grand. The Merchant grinned, he knew he found a naive space farer that was not like his usual customers who always demanded more. They made the deal and Alte set off again to the helium field and over the course of the next 8 hours he manages to acquire nearly seven million dollars. He finally calls it a day and makes his way to a station he's seen off in the distance, towards a glowing orange planet. He makes his way to there and comes across the station orbiting it; Bethlehem Station. He docks with it and is greeted by a robotic droid which directs him to docking bay three where he finally berths and makes his way to the closest accommodation block. His first day turned out alright, after all.


It's a several hours into the next day when Alte stops for a nap and as he just dozes off; "I want your cargo and I want it now!" cackled over the radio, bringing Alte out of his snooze. He checks his radar and notices new contacts on his scanners. Liberty Rogues - Jackal. Who the !@#$ are these guys? As he looks at his would be muggers, a notification comes up on his hub, demanding he automatically drop the 15 helium he had on board. He quickly clicked DECLINE and another Rogue chimed in "You're going to regret that move, locking in" Suddenly alarm bells start going off as Alte's shield starts to take hits. Panicking, he starts aiming his mining turrets at them but still stands still, shooting at them as they move around him. His shot was shit, he was definitely not accustomed to shooting moving targets and he soon found his shield depleted. He hit the emergency battery bank and his shield cropped back up before the Rogues could get his hull. He soon realized how to change his weapons groups and soon was firing back with real guns but still from a static position. His shields quickly dropped and as they did, two more Jackals arrived and started eating into his hull, his batteries now depleted. He set his cruise engines and turned towards Battleship Gettysburg outside Erie but a warning screeched "Incoming missile!" and Alte quickly felt a thud and his cruise was disabled. He turned his ships thruster on and continued to try make his way to safety, his hull quickly depleting. He tried his cruise one more time, turned his counter measures on and successfully managed to get cruise, a slither of hull left. A huge wave of relief came over him as he realized how close to uncertain death he was. He managed to get within five kilometers of the Gettysburg when "Incoming Missile!" screeches out again. Alte felt comfortable he was nearing the battleship, what could they do? Then he heard the thump, followed buy a complete system failure and a high pitched buzzer comes on. All of a sudden his harness grips him tight with his arms pinned to his side as his console tells him about his imminent escape pod ejection. Oh shit, this is REAL Alte panics as the realization that he's about to loose everything he had built up in the last day to the monsters in the Liberty underworld he'd heard so many rumors about. As his pod ejects, he sees a massive salvo of ordinance speed his direction from the Gettysburg and her support fleet. But guess what Alte forgot? To turn on his pressure suit.


Waking up, nauseous as hell again, he sees a nurse on a hanger surrounded by other medical staff. They tell him to take it easy while the clean up the mess. Mess? Then the smell hit. Goddamnit Alte He vomits all over the people trying to help as they barely react, they're used to it and they continue applying fresh toweling and wiping it away all the while helping Alte out of his helmet. They take him into an infirmary and Alte finally inquires as to where he is upon which the nurse tells him he's on Bethlehem. Alte tries to sit up but the nurse pushes him back down as the carry him on a bed away to a ward. "You'll stay here for 12 hours until you're cleared then you will be free to go. Just take it easy and enjoy some time off. Here's a datapad to keep you entertained or if you wish, have a nap." the nurse rattled off before turning and bed against a wall and walking off. Alte didn't mind the rest, but sleep was not coming to him. He was now shipless, and wasn't sure where to buy a new one. He turned on the datapad and sifled through a few pages on what was called the Neural Net. He read some news about war with Rheinland and how good progress was being made while there was news of a new House emerging he knew nothing about. His web travels took him to an advert for an assistant miner for a Junker family. He clicked it and was told to go and talk to the barman on a base in the Texas system called Beaumont upon which he had not the faintest idea on how to get to it. He took note of that and continued searching, learning about the big corporations of Liberty.

Another nurse comes in to see Alte several hours later, checks his notes and tells him he is free to go. He signs the necessary documents and pays his medical costs and heads back to his accommodation. Along the way he notices a sign directing him to a shop dealer. He ambles on down and comes down to the lower hanger levels and sees a small office with a light on. He heads over to it and sees the sign for ship dealer. A droid greets him and hands him a catalog of their ships and one ship immediately caught his eye: Dromedary The ship held just over five hundred cube and literally was bigger and better in every way to his endearingly nicknamed Starflea. It wasn't cheap, a whopping six and a half million dollars which ate up an incredible amount of Alte's savings. But it was worth it, and aptly registered the ship again as Peacewalker. The droid directed him after the purchase to the equipment vendor in which Alte took several hours trying to figure out what best fit his new ship for his needs. After some sever negotiation he managed to get it fully kitted out to be a self sufficient freighter for his needs. Satisfied, he finally made it down to his accommodation to pack his things and have one more nap before departure.


Upon arriving at Beaumont Station the next day, Alte realised how easy space travel was when you have directions and use the tradelanes and found that Beaumont base merely took him a few hours to get too. He docked on the station, a first time for this class, and made his way to the bar. He nodded to the bar man as he walked over and as Alte went to put his hand on the bar with his credit card, he accidentally bumped the man beside who promptly turned around in reaction. "Sorry mate, I didn't mean too. I was just uh.. grabbing my cash" Alte apologized. The man just smirked and greeted him, offering his hand "Hi, I'm John Doe but most people call me John" Alte took his hand and introduced himself before they began conversing and getting to know one another. A beautiful woman approached and John held out his arm to welcome her in. He introduced her to Alte and the couple began talking about the scrap business in Texas. John explained of a terrible accident a couple centuries ago that created the mess that is the negra's out west of the system. He was taking sample reports for his bosses in the corporation known as Deep Space Engineering and Alte talked about his interest in getting involved in making some cash clearing the debri from the areas. John explained that only the Junkers really had the best salvaging equipment and suggested he try sign up with them to get his feet in the door. Alte nodded as he was taking all this in and was sure to ask as many questions as he could think of before John's partner tugged at his arm. John offered his hand and passed Alte his business card and they shook hands before John headed out of the bar. Alte took his last swig and headed for the nearest Junker recruitment bay.


Several months pass and Alte the Junker has started making himself a small fortune in the lucrative scrap market. His contact with John Doe was also an asset to have attained. During the past fewmonths Alte's and Johns friendship grew closer and with the latest scrap hauling Alte found that John and DSE, as they referred to themselves, very interested in his set up and how much more effective they were than their own. Alte suggested they look into getting in contact with Junkers governing body, the Junker Congress. Alte knew that if there were anything a Junker could do then it was them. A few days later John got in contact again told caught up with him to give him the good news that talks with the Congress and were making headway, part in due to John and his partners success in taking over management of Deep Space Engineering. Johns gratitude for his continued friendship and help to success was in the form of a very large sum of money offered to Alte as a thank you. Alte was stunned, a small timer with maybe a few tens of million floating around his own accounts could not comprehend billions. There was a catch; He said this only once and as clear as day "This needs to stay between us, I need you to look after this. Make an account at one of your Zoner associates banks and store it there. They pay good interest and they are tax exempts. So you sit on this for me, you can just live off the interest alone." He paused a moment, then continued "Invest it, make something that will make you money because I will need to get my money from time to time. If you can do that, we can keep this between us." Alte was blown away, he began trying to process this information and instead was left dumbfounded. John pulled out a datapad and showed him interest rates and most investment banks that offer the best deals. Alte was about to ask why but John cut him off. "Please, Alte. You'd be doing me a favour." Alte was unable to say anything but yes as the realization that he no longer had to work, ever., and began to grin. He looked at John square in the eyes, and stated "John, you are asking me to sit on fifteen billion credits to safe guard it and all I need to do in return is get richer off it? I'm saying you're on. But that's a lot of money to entrust me with, what makes you think I won't disappear with it?" and John just grinned and said "That isn't all my money, and I would spent the rest of it finding you. But the real reason I am doing this is that me and my girl are getting married and she doesn't know half my story and this money is unaccounted for. It needs to disappear. It's my insurance and you're my insurance man. I trust you because you helped me make this money. I wanted to show my appreciation too my good friend" Alte blushed a little, tried quite hard to stem the overwhelming desire to cry. What an honest, trusting thing someone can do Alte internalised, pondered a signed off saying to John "I've got you mate, I'll be your back up." The two finished their call and hung up leaving Alte in deafening silence. His world just got turn upside down, now in the game of embezzlement and his brain raced with the thoughts on how to make more money and the cash bug slowly overcoming him, so much he needed to have a drink.

The most expensive one.

Alte was on a journey of discovery, there was no limit to anything. His interest build up was grossing more than a billion a month and he already had everything he needed right now. A ship with automated g-suits and lessons on how to fight. His ship of choice had changed, too, as now he owned a well armed and amoured luxury yacht. Those dual countermeasures get's him out of any situation. It wasn't to flashy as Alte still wanted to remain very anonymous but on the same token, he's now a multi-billionaire. Alte had made his way to a system out of Liberty called Coronado, it was a desolated cold feeling system with no signs of civilisation. He was heading to a Freelancer base called Barrier Gate where he hoped to meet up with some people he met earlier in the year. Not going to lie, the parties were pretty damn awesome.

Alte's ship, now named Sleeker, moored with the base which then Alte and his hired help disembarked and headed for the usual first stop; the bar. His team sets out and locates a table while Alte walks to the bar to get himself some of the stations finest. He really enjoyed seeing what bases offered their best and how much and Barrier Gate didn't disappoint. He pulled his JellyNom shot in and was about to take it when he was knocked sideways by a large burly man with dark skin, facial tattoos and a thick foreign accent. The man hissed "The !@$% you looking at, C%^?" Alte, taken aback but considering his options, he let it slide "Nah, nothing mate. You're all good. Sorry about that." The guy grinned, walked off towards the exit, Liberty Rogues emblazed all over the back of his suit. !@$ing Rogues Alte thought to himself as he ordered another drink. He looked over at his team who apparently hadn't even batted an eyelid and Alte remembered trust can't be bought but only sold. He shoots his shot and his datapad dings, turns out his revelling friends had abandoned their plans to meet him at Barrier after all. He purchases a snack and frustrated, calls his team to get ready for departure to which they begrudgingly obliged

The crew were settled in and Alte was following rumors of a jumphole leading to the all mighty Zoner system of Baffin. It apparently is a corridor for smugglers and pirates alike but the short cut it provides saves interdiction from the various Houses law enforcement and the Zoners don't seem to care so long you stay away from the real flash looking station and don't shoot anyone. Sleeker's scanners picked up the unknown jumphole and began docking procedures with it before it violently collected them into its vortex and threw the yacht deep into the Baffin system. Immediately in front of them were directional bouys that signaled traffic to follow it. The Sleeker and her crew followed it to another jump hole in which they jumped through to what was to be known as the dreaded Tau's. Alte had heard a lot about the likes of the Outcast home world just a little further north of the Taus and this gave Alte the chills. This was some serious shit and Alte doubted he made the right decision. However the engines started up and the vessel made haste towards a distant station.

Almost immediately, a lone contact came on radar and it was red. The reading identified the ship as Rogue - Greyhound and it was bearing in fast. Upon a closer scan it was reveals the ship was on basic life support and on fire. The Sleekers radio cackled and a very raspy and labour voice called out "Help me, please. I'm dying.. " Alte, unsure if this was a trap or not took some considerable compassion and called for the vessel to get up along side it. The Greyhound fires start burning more furiously and so Alte urged the pilot to initiate his escape pod and he'll be tractored in, so the pilot ejects from the burning hulk and the Sleeker tractors his escape pod in. As they head back towards the Baffin jumphole the Rogues ship explodes. A mere second after that another contact appears, Kusari State Police - Wyrm, and starts bearing in on their location. Alte instructs the crew to stay quiet and to let him handle this. "Sleeker! This is the Kusari State Police. Halt your vessel and prepare to be scanned." the police instructed. Alte brought the yacht to stop and instructed the crew to stash the Rogue in the fuel cell maintenance shaft. The radiation, albeit dangerous for unprotected people to be around for lengthy amounts of time, was the only place on the ship that a conventional scanner can't read. "Sure officer, what seems to be the trouble?" Alte responds over the comms. The officer retorts "Nothing, we noticed our suspect has lost his ship. We're now looking for his escape pod. Have you seen it?" Alte, doing his best to play the cool card calmly tells the officer they hadn't seen anything and that they had just gotten close to it to see if there were any body in there." The officer smacks his lips a bit and asks "How big is the core in this? Series 3 CTE isn't it?" Alte instantly knew what angle he was going for. The yacht came out in two models, one with the radioactive shielding in the maintenance shaft and the model Alte had. The one that didn't, no one would hide in the engine compartment of something that radioactive. "No officer, series 2. Same core as the 3 with out the maintenance shielding." The officer chuckles, "Heh yeah, they do save themselves a big discount on the series 2. Much better for economy. Anyway you carry on your way, report anything unusual" with that he left heading in the direction he had come whilst the Sleeker continued for the Baffin jump hole.

After succesfully making it into Baffin, Alte called the Rogue out of the safety of the most dangerous place on the ship. It was apparent then that the two had already met, it was the face tattooed Rogue from Barrier. The Rogue, stunned by the sheer unluckiness of his situation fails to hide his recognization of Alte. The Rogue croaks "Eh, bro.. we're all good aye? I didn't mean no harm back there on that base. I was just messing around, you know. No hard feelings?" Alte was in two minds about this but a thought about one of his old bosses saying something like "help a man up, and he'll help you keep standing" he couldn't remember it correctly but Alte felt that at this moment in time, a show of compassion would do more good than harm. "Look, mate. You're all good. You're safe with us" and he extended his hand towards the Rogue. "Alte, my names Alte. Yours?" The Rogue took his hand and shook hit, an expression of relief upon his face. " Chur, my name is Hone Heke. But most people call me Moka. Cheers for the pick up, aye. My bro's all fucked off when they saw the pigs show up. The cunts left me behind!" Moka started getting agitated but quickly realized he was in civil company and played down his anger. "Thank you Alte, my bro. I won't foget this."

The trip to Barrier Gate and the offload of the Sleeker's injured passenger went well, Alte and Moka shaking hands and seeing each other off. "Thanks Bro, I'll be in touch. We'll definitely look into that idea you popped. The Rogues could use someone like you." Moka said with Alte replying "Thanks Moka, that's most appreciated." Moka stopped him quickly with his finger up. "It's Hone, only the raff call me Moka. We're Bro's now my kuz" Alte smiled and waved him on and set about setting up to continue heading up into the Tau sector.

The time had come when John asked for his money. It was inevitable. John had a plethora of problems through as director of Deep Space Engineering. Turmoil struck the flow and Johns had developed a very large cardimine habit. Not only that, but John was doing some shady deals in the back ground with the Junkers and he had managed to orchestrate a slavers trade stemming from the influx of Bretonian refugees. Johns wife ran a rehab center in the hopes to help cure Johns addiction but in order to make it a legit facility they needed to take other patients hence the United Hope Foundation. John came to Alte late in June asking for five billion of his stash. Alte wire it across to him upon which the rest was asked. Alte wired out the full fifteen billion and made sure John knew that their agreement had come to its end. John took this the wrong way and went right off the rails but as fate would have it, John disappeared for six months not long after that. His return seemed to return Deep Space Engineering back into normality.

Alte was enjoying the atmosphere on Planet Gran Canaria, he had spent the last few moths soaking in the attraction. His datapad buzzed, and he ignored it while he was perving up the local talent. He sipped his beer and leaned over to grab his pad. New Message: John Doe "Oh God, what trouble now?" Alte mutters to himself as he opens the message. Of course, John asking for money. He seems to be in dire need of twenty billion credits for urgent structuring within his company. Alte begrudgingly agrees on the condition that Johns faclity Doe Industries Space Port is used as security and placed into a trust the Alte will make. Thus, Doe Industries made its first step onto the stock market. Alte agreed to be the sole owner of the trust and remain anonymous. It would be made to appear that John was the Chairman of the Board but answered directly to Alte himself. With this, the company took off again and was on the right track. John managed to pay back a third of his debt to Alte and things seemed smooth until Johns addiction got on top of him again.

This time, not only did it cost John financially but it also cost him his marriage,. It's unclear how things transpired but Alte was sure most of it was to do with his unrelenting drug habits. John disappeared for sometime and Deep Space Engineering went into a recession, dropping its official standing on the domestic stock market. Many saw a distinct lack of official representatives for the company. Alte continued with his various projects around the universe, life seemed to be trouble free for about twelve months until his datapad notifies him of a message. New Message: John Doe

It's John, asking for money again. Alte was getting pretty sick of this same routine. For ten years they'd known each other and this was the worst Alte had seen of John. Somehow in the last few months John had managed to garner more finance from other sources, upon which he wasn't able to repay. At least with Alte, it would have been interest free. To further John's woes, he had managed to rekindle his old marriage with his first wife and together they had turned DSE around on its heels and back into a major game player. But restart relationships never worked. Alte had seen enough friends go through similar things that Alte vowed to never have a partner. His state of mind is worth more. Alte called John and found John had placed himself between a rock and a hard place and he was starting to become desperate and begs on the phone for a loan of a mere five billion but Alte hastily declined. "John, you have borrowed and borrowed and still you can't pay anything back. You still owe me seven billion from the last time for fucks sake. I am not helping you this time, you need to figure this out on your own." John reacted angrily, yelling at Alte calling him a number of names, one being a back stabber. Alte is silent, then retorts in a clear and calm voice - "Doe Industries Space Port belongs to me to cover your seven billion credit debt from last time, and I will gift you a further favour. Take my yacht and get the fuck out of Liberty. I'm not going to back you up any more. Do the necessary paperwork and hand me the keys to DISP. I own that now." John groans a bit on the other end of the line then mutters something under his breath. "What was that, John?" Alte demanded and John replies "I said well at least I'm glad you keep it... You'll get the documentation in 2 hours." and the line drops dead.