I tell ya, there are some really weird people in this world. Just yesterday I was movin' some blood diamonds to Liberty when I pass a guy talkin' to a giant nerd in some kind of fancy Frankenstein's lab lookin' ship, couldn't read the name but it had IRG stamped on the side whoever that means.
Anyway this guy starts talkin' to me about "stalkin' things too scary to stalk" and I ain't makin' this up, he was literally a bona fide card carryin' major league cuckoo-clock. He called himself John Silverstone but it shoulda been Psycho Mc-god-damn-Creepington.
So this guy starts askin' what I do, what I can get, you know the usual 20 questions mooks ask tryin' to figure out if I'm a smuggler or not. Eventually he gets to the point and surprise surprise, Patrick Bateman wants me to find some girls that he "lost", nine of them:
Sequoia Heart a Gaian last seen somewhere in Tohoku, Kate Miller an ex-Order agent, Felicia Drum ex-RM somewhere in Kansas, Ran Takahashi and Minori Rei both Golden C lost around Hokkaido, Emiko Hunter Ex-Order and Ex-Blood Dragon, Saphhire Raven, Popess Concordia and Sanada Junko.
12 mill just to get me to look for these girls plus 5 mill more if I actually get a lead, not bad for a side job even if it is creepy as all hell. Still 50 million ain't nothin' to sneeze at, now if only I could find a Rheinland military guy to sell me those guns I can finally cash in on Maren's job.
It's been quiet the last two months so I decided to take a little cruise and enjoy myself, what's the use in money if you don't live a little right? Got myself two weeks on Baden Baden in a mid price suite, nothin' too fancy, I wanted to unwind and take it easy. Did a little sightseeing, a little surfing and a whole lot'a walkin'. It was nice, I couldn't live on the rock but it was soothin' all the same.
As soon as I come back, boom. I find everythin' has gone gonzo.
The Confessional? Dead. Contacts? Nada. Primakhova? No where to be found.
And Ted still doesn't have damn transport yet.
Now the biggest thing on that list is Primakhova, that woman is hard to find when you're workin' with her so if she don't wanna be found, she ain't gonna. If she has gone dark chances are we'll never see her again, or maybe we will and just never know it. Either way it's left the Rat Pack without any legit legs to stand on and nowhere to smooze. Though ain't gonna mourn the loss of Kayta's bartender, the guy could screw up a glass of water.
Naturally I get back into the game and start lookin' for somewhere to set up shop and as luck would have it the Freeport council thingy was lookin' for potential administrators to keep their joints runnin'. I signed myself up for Freeport 10 job thinkin' I could get the Pack's foot in the Gallic blackmarket's door. Tau 37 would be a great place for us; Outcasts to the north, Gallia to the west, Hogosha to the east and Bretonia down south. We'd be right in the crossroads of it all. A smugglers heaven, even has the white fluffy clouds too.
I figured I'd be a sure thing with my winning personality, good looks, charm and a list of deals longer than a Rheinland beer fesitval. What's not to like right?
No dice.
They wanted experienced administrators to run number 10 and thought my deal makin' would put people in danger. If anythin' my deals would've saved the place from bein' torn apart and I told 'em as much. Gave 'em a piece of my mind you know? Brought up that mess in Delta just to make my point and still nothin'. In the end they offered me the runner up prize of Freeport 2, the station version of a bar room brawl. Filled to the brim with pirates, Xenos, Unioners and Bounty Hunters all waitin' for an excuse to start somethin'. It's not that Bering ain't a bad place to be, it just ain't the crossroads I was wantin'.
I took the job anyway and the joint's a fixer-up-er that's for damn sure. You know that ancient film with the line about never findin' a more wretched hive of scum and villainy? One look at Freeport 2 and they'd be singin' a different tune, lemme tell ya.
The guy who was showin' me around told me the place had been goin' down the tubes since the Hamburg gate got blown up, you know without the food trade? Now it's just the Texans but the risin' level of pirates has started pushin' them away too, leavin' only the Xenos, Unioners, Hunters and Junkers.
No surprise there. I mean c'mon, a dead end system on top of the main trade route between Liberty and Rheinland? No contest.
But that got me thinkin', why not turn this place into a blackmarket bazaar? It's got the location, the supply and the clientele. All it needs is some storage and the right kinda guy to run the tub.
I still haven't given up on the Gallic side of things though, far from it. I went up there a few days ago to get a clearer picture and actually ran into some of the Brigands. They ain't too bad a bunch, kinda like the Rogues but with more class.
Anyway I get stopped by some wreck in Lorraine was it? Lang-dock? Some where startin' with an "L." Whatever. They pull the whole pirate trip on me so I do what I always do, spin a deal. Apparently I impressed with of 'em with my smooth change of topics which I haven't decided if it's good or bad. But yeah, I work my magic and get a little show and tell organised, me and the Pack bring what we can from Sirius and the Brigands are gonna do the same. If we both find somethin' good we can start buildin' a rep and expand our operations. Everybody wins.
I ain't gonna celebrate just yet though.
The Confessional on the otherhand wasn't such a loss, holdin' all the cards was a long shot and people didn't take it. Still got those girls to find for that Silverstone creep though, even threw me another 10 mil to keep my interest and thanks to the Freeport job I know of at least one more.
Now I've got some redecoratin' to do and a whoie lot of collectin'.