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+--- Thread: Le Renard - The Fox (/showthread.php?tid=99533)
Le Renard - The Fox - Ash - 05-31-2013
So I'm a thief.
Some people call me a thug and a misfit, others call me a larceny genius.
I agree.
I'm no man of morals so I'm not going to waste your time trying to justify what I do because at the end of the day, stealing is bad. I steal things because I'm good at it, and quite frankly, I enjoy it.
Things aren't as simple as they seem when you're main occupation is as straight forward as taking things. In fact I'd go as far to say that it was harder when I first started out in this profession than it is right now. Actually I think it's probably best that we start from the beginning...
That First Steal - Ash - 05-31-2013
There's no humbling story about my childhood so you can forget about that. There are some things that are better off unsaid. But I'l let you in where it started to get interesting.
805 A.S. on Planet Marne
I never had that many ties to anything or anyone. Having ties causes friction and slows movement from one place to the next, and I was on the move. By now I'd gained some skill as a pickpocket and found it easy to stow away on cargo ships moving goods along the outer systems. I'd hop from planet to planet taking whatever I could before hitching a ride to the next stop and anyone noticed anything was missing. In those days it was... a bit less subtle, and more snatch and grab than I would have liked but hey, everyone's gotta start somewhere right?
My main hunting grounds were pilot lounges. You'l be surprised the kinds of loot most people carried in their pockets. Whether they were pirates or traders they all had one thing in common - egos; expecting someone to march up to them and challenge them for their property instead of thinking that little old me would take it without so much as a gesture. From time to time I'd lift a credit card here and there if it wasn't something I could sell to the Junkers or whatever scrap dealers were buying.
I only really got a break when I fished into this guys pocket once and pulled out an access key for a ship floating on a landing pad nearby. Now if you think THAT'S lucky, when I found it was a scratchless fully equipped Cuirassier Noir I almost died of euphoria.
Now I think this is a good point to tell you that I didn't really know how to fly.
So when the Corse pilot came charging out toward the pad with what appeared to be a rather pain inflicting rifle, I had to skip the crash course and start pressing buttons. One of which dropped a thermonuclear mine onto the landing pad below, and another which primed the ship for take-off. Now no need to worry, I heard the authorities managed to defuse the mine safely, but sadly that poor fella had to take the wrap for it seeing as it was technically his. But I'm not going to lie, getting away with that was better than sex.
Owning a ship can remake the chess board for any profession. With the running costs there was no chance I'd fly for much longer than a day on what I could lift in that time. So really I had no option but to step up my game.
You want my advice? When you're in the game, work alone. Every extra person closer to you brings you closer to danger and an early retirement in prison or worse. It's harder this way, but being the best isn't easy.
I'd grown quite attached to the ship, effectively it was my first proper steal. I did some thinking and flew it out to Bourg-en-Bresse in Burgundy, it's usually a hive of crime and candy land for someone like me. While the ship was in storage I did a bit of research, looking for a bigger break than spare change or Nox. It took me a few days but I eventually found something; a private, probably illegal deal in the shadows of a shipment bay. Nox was so common in this place that dealers didn't even bother hiding any more, so whatever those guys were up to it was definitely worth a look.
The steal was easier than I'd thought. The two chaps dealing got into some kind of an argument and ended up in a tussle. It must have seemed natural to one of them to think they'd been hit by the other when I swiped what was in his pocket and shrunk back into the shadows. It was only until afterwards that I realised what it was. An artefact, dim but still glowing like it's batteries had run near dead. I'd never seen one before then so you can imagine my puzzlement, but I couldn't help but revel in it's beauty. They are after all remarkable objects and an art of a sort. I've been looking for that same one ever since I sold it; I've come to be a bit of a collector myself.
But anyway that one piece of indigo rock earned me enough credits to keep my ship airborne for three months. Much of that time I spent with my ear to the ground for another break like the Bourg-en-Bresse lift, but there was nothing. Since artefacts were, and still are such a rarity in Gallia it's not surprising. Sneaking around the scum of the land didn't really have much to offer any more, so I began to open my mind to more challenging prospects.