Omen looked out the station window at the passing traffic sipping his Scotch. The Magellan System was a popular border system which saw a significant amount of activity from Liberty and Bretonia. Often, Freelancers would spend their evenings in the area, looking for work or going about their own tasks. Omen took another sip of the pungent liquid.
It had been years since Omen worked as a Freelancer and the Sirius Sector was completely new to him. He had arrived only 3 days prior and even now the sheer number of systems in this area of space was staggering to him. It had been over 5 years since he had left the business of Freelancing, leaving a life of wealth in a sector known as the VOID to journey the stars.
Smiling, Omen made himself another drink. He was never the best pilot, and the years are not kind to skill. Fortunately, his knowledge of trade routes, philanthropy, and hard working attitude often made up where his aim fell off. The Scotch did not help either, but there were few things were more enjoyable than flying a little loaded.
Omen evaluated his finances. They were pretty piss-poor. It was disappointing that currency in the universe had not been centralised yet, but there was nothing that could be done about it. The brightest minds had tried, but Variation and Evaluation Stock and Currency Indexes were beyond the scope of mortal man. The only option was to start from scratch. Fortunately, with his connections as well as the near limitless reach of his private corporation, Dark Omen Industries, he would not be broke for long.
But now it was time to catch up on current events. Even as he stared out the station at the bluish nebula clouds, Omen noticed local factions sparing outside of Freeport 4. Rumor was that naval activity had increased in Magellan. The horizon lit up briefly as a fighter vomited flame and ash, its explosion marking the end of the battle. Omen activated his neocomm. No messages or contacts yet. He mused over what adventures lay in store beyond the horizon.
