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[---Date: X.X.817 A.S. - USER WITHHELD
[---Location: N/A - USER WITHHELD
[---Title: My beginning
I've been thinking about this for quite some time. Some form of record to be remembered by, perhaps to remind myself of where I came from and what has brought me to where I am. Thoughts of dissapating into the dark recesses of time, never to be regarded again is frightening to say the least. My current thoughts are irrelevent at this time however, as this and the entries to follow are about my past.
My name is Eyran Thaddeas Taris, and I hail from the Stuttgart system. My adolescence is deeply rooted in Rheinland farming operations. My Father was a freighter captain, responsible for moving food into the heart of Rheinland space. My mother worked as a farmhand for her own family on Planet Stuttgart, and somehow the two met and I happened.
I like to think that they loved one another, and that I was the result of a planned future. It keeps me sane at night when my mind wanders off to the times father would come home drunk and abuse my Cardamine-fed mother. It wasn't too long until he got sanctioned by the company and lost his job. I never saw him again the day he went to have talks with the union about securing new employment. Can't say that I miss the useless bastard.
Mother was an equally pitiful case. Prolonged exposure to Cardamine since her teenage years had caused an assortment of health and mental deformities in her. Before the time I was old enough to be considered independent, my twelfth year I believe, she was delivered to an institution for rehabilitation. I was subsequently shipped off to some politician's twisted idea of foster care.
I was placed in the custody of a local farming family who had been charged to raise me into maturity. The family was headed by Sigur Rolfenstein, a rigid and corrupt man who only claimed me for a source of government funding. I learned much about how to smuggle in my time packaging synth weed in their bio-cellar, as well as how to survive on a sub minimal amount of sustenence. They thought it fitting to keep my mouth shut by controlling my access to the basics, food, water and communication.
In my eighteenth year, the government checks stopped coming in and Mr. Rolfenstein sought to get rid of me. At the time I thought I would be accompanying a family acquaintence to a deal of crop in New Berlin, but their true intentions were clear when the cargo pod of synth weed that I was told to ride in was jettisoned in a nearby Stuttgart asteroid field.
Times like that really make you rethink your life. Even when the circumstances are out of your control, you wonder what you could've done differently to prevent the situation. What could have happened to bring about a more enjoyable life experience. I can remember having these thoughts as I drifted in weightlessness and complete darkness of the cargo pod. By the time I was picked up by local authorities I was said to have been unconscious from lack of oxygen. Rheinland Police happened to have caught word of the Rolfenstein trade going on, and while they were unsuccessful in catching our convoy, the pod was taken in as evidence along with me.
It was a lot to explain, and frankly I don't think anyone I talked to about my past really believed me at the police station. Eventually records of my transfer into the custody of Rolfenstein were turned up, and I was permitted to go on my way after divulging key information about the smuggling operation. I was sure to use that opportunity to secure a monetary contribution from those detectives desperate for a break in the case. A bribe that would help me jumpstart the next phase of my life...
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[---Date: X.X.817 A.S. - USER WITHHELD
[---Location: N/A - USER WITHHELD
[---Title: Just a phase
With a sum of credits in my account that no eighteen year old orphan would normally have, I decided to get my own wings and fly the coop. I still remember the face on the ship dealer's face as I pointed to the dinged up Camara freighter that must've been sitting on the lot for months, offering cold hard credits with no trade-in at all. God that hunk of metal was a junker, but it was the first real possession I'd ever had of my own. The overwhelming sense of power one feels when they're put in the cockpit of a hundred ton vehicle is intoxicating, and I can remember the anxiousness to fly that burned inside my chest as I suffered through a week of pilot training that the dealer threw in for free.
As I finally took to the sky I knew what I had to do. Some semblance of order and purpose had to be made in my life, and then He would be dealt with. That demon of a man, Sigur Rolfenstein. He would pay for the hell his chosen lifestyle of drug trafficking had raised me in.
The years to come blurred with the passing of every trade lane, asteroid and star by the cockpit windshield. I kept my nose clean, dealing in local transport for profit under the table. I kept tabs on my former home, having managed to keep an acquaintence with the department handling the Rolfenstein case. Detective Lars had been following it since the case was opened nearly half a decade before I was introduced into the smuggling operation as a child laborer. Knowing that I was once a cog in the criminal machine, he must've had an interest in keeping in contact with me also, even though I'd already shared everything remotely useful regarding it.
Now to give a little more information about the case itself. As it turned out, the synthetic marijuana business had been going on for years before an anonymous tipster notified authorities. Having learned of this, the Rolfenstein's constantly relocated and employed various methods of masking their activities. Apparently even the guise under which I was adopted was a false identity, Karl Slader. Since my lucky rescue by the police, as well as my given testimony, they were able to link this identity to the case. It hit an abrupt end however, as Karl Slader was soon reported a dead man.
There were fewer leads to go on since then, though Lars remained hopeful and secretly transferred confidential case files to me from time to time. Every day was filled with loading, unloading, courses plotted and destinations reached. Every night was a network of plans and theories, figuring out a way to get where I was figuratively going in life. Every dream included a sober father and a caring mother, or a laser pistol aimed at Rolfenstein's temple, finger balancing on the trigger.
I kept my actions well within Rheinland territory, staying in proximity with what I knew. I had only spoken with other traders from the other Houses, and pilots who had journeyed the sector themselves. I knew I wasn't quite ready for that yet, as much as I yearned to run away from everything I knew. Business had to be taken care of at home first.
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[---Date: 10.11.817 A.S.
[---Location: Dortmund Station, New Berlin
[---Title: Repurposing
It's been a few days since my last log entry. Frankly, there has been a lot going on. I am going to put the autobiography aside for now, and talk a little bit more about current events.
I have recently secured a contract working as an ALG Waste Disposal transport. The pay is good, the conditions are far better than what I've dealt with before. I've also been running routes with a close friend, who for reasons which are of no concern, I won't name. Let's just say that we've had a time maneuvering around authorities and terrorists alike to make a few more credits.
Since I landed the ALG contract though, the rather tame nature of the job has really grown on me. For some 17 years now, I've been flying across the sector. Seen some really interesting stuff, and more than a man's share of right and wrongdoing. In space, matters are more in your own hands than that of some police or official. When a pirate checks your shield, out here you'd better be prepared to check his or run. Now though, hauling scrap, waste, the occasional ship hull panel... the stakes are lower and so is the attention from the more unsavory opportunists.
So today I made the decision to apply for a full-time position with ALG. My application has already been submitted, and I feel that my chance of landing the job is high. Deep Thunder, my ship, has already been outfitted with cargo pods specifically made to haul hazardous material. I have a general idea of where the base of operations spreads out to, all I'm waiting on now is recognition and the transmission of my official callsign as part of the ALG Transport fleet.
I think my friend may be doing the same. We'll see.
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[---Date: 10.17.817 A.S.
[---Location: Battleship Myoko, Shikoku
[---Title: Bright prospects
So I got the job. They were quite prompt on my acceptance, and my good friend was also accepted. Moving MOX around and collecting other people's trash... it doesn't sound glorious, however there comes a time in any adventurer's life where they yearn for a simpler existence. I've got a bit of free time before my next stop, so I thought I would take the time to write another one of these.
ALG's stance on piracy is hardly confrontational. They even reimburse for personal goods seized by pirates while hauling ALG goods. Luckily I have yet to run into any who wish to abscond with junk metal or toxic waste. I don't imagine they think a garbage man has much to loot, and for that I am thankful. I've even had the pleasure of an ALG-licensed military escort through some of the rougher systems. It is easy to see that they put a lot of effort into their work, fostered by the company's focus on their employees. Simply put, this place is the common working man's dream.
I have had to practice some political tip-toeing though. I've had two specific runs that ended in Leeds, MOX to a Kusari battleship, and Plutonium to a Bretonian research facility. It isn't hard to figure out that neither side would like to see me complete those routes, so neutrality is paramount for survival and to keep a good light on ALG. We operate throughout all of the common houses, though I have not heard of any contracts regarding operations in Gallia yet. Perhaps once their isolationism has disapated, our Movers will be passing through Orkney as well.
I have to get going now. Next stop is Shinjuku Station.
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[---Date: 10.20.817 A.S.
[---Location: LD-14, Leeds
[---Title: Malfunctions
I'm no sure what it was, but something happened on my way into Leeds. I had just came out of the jump from Tau-31 and performed a successful tradelane manuever when halfway through the ship shook violently. Scanners showed no hostiles in the area, but I was almost immediately ejected from the stream and into space. Nearly five thousand cargo units of weapons-grade plutonium was somehow released into space behind me, along with the modified cargo pods that I had built specifically for this job. Damned things aren't cheap.
I swear there was no one nearby. I contacted Interspace and reported the incident, however they confirmed that the trade lanes in that system showed as operating normally. I suppose I have dumb luck to blame for that four million payload going literally out to space. I contacted Dortmund station after landing at LD-14, the station that my cargo was to be delivered to. They're sending out a fleet of cleanup ships to handle the mess before the Bretonian government finds out and causes problems. I don't want to be the rookie employee who ended a good contract.
I've already talked with someone on Planet Leeds who does work with cargo holds and containers. After the ship checks out with the station mechanics that it's alright to fly, I'll be headed that way to secure new containers. Hopefully it's not an issue with the trailer locking mechanisms or the trailer itself, those cost a fair bit. This whole mess is really starting to put a dent in my account.
