Someone once asked me why do I find being called a "trader" an insult, and I proceeded to explain to him the substantial difference. There are two types of people in this galaxy: people who think they see the opportunity, these are simply followers, for the opportunity always eludes them in one way or another. The people who not only see it but can touch it and are able to use it, they become .. a true deliverer. It takes some ingenuity to completely bypass established trade routes in order to find places where goods are needed to such an extent that the inhabitants are willing to pay the so-called "big bucks" for the delivery.
In a galaxy torn by war a person like me profits unlike any other. A lack of allegiance and a common goal to all sides of the conflict is what brings that profit. In order to achieve such a status, one must remove himself from all his allies, and thus his enemies as well. It's almost a political crusade, but when it finally works out, one becomes.. the truly neutral person - one who can consider himself eligible for the protection of the police force yet still deal with criminals and conmen on a daily basis. In the end being truly neutral creates a sense of isolation amongst society, and not all people are psychologically equipped for this. Some however may actually like this..
At any rate, I am Kurt Schunterr and I am not a trader. I have decided to catalogue my finer days from this point onward. I am completely aware of the fact that some day, someone will find this journal (most likely next to my dead body), and learn the finer points of profiteering from it. Until that day I will live on and whatever happens to me will end up in this... little booklet.
A lack of allegiance always makes for some interesting encounters. Always.
Even New York which is supposedly the safest system in Sirius has it's days of occupation. Rule #21 says any wall can be penetrated by simply bypassing it... I was on a trip to Manhattan to sell the gold accumulated in Dublin. Not the grandest of deals but then again it is simply filler for the more lucrative trades available in New York. I knew it would make for an interesting pass when the moment my ship entered the system the comms picked up a warning to all traders to leave immediately due to a heavy pirate presence. Unabated, I continued forward to the heart of NY, believing this to be the usual assault on Norfolk or the West Point academy.
It's quite amusing how we are proven ridiculously wrong even when it is completely illogical to think otherwise. The Hackers weren't even there in full force, yet were unchallenged in the very orbit of Manhattan, which most likely meant total shutdown of the planet's orbital defenses. Quite a feat to say the least, there wasn't one naval fighter in sight.
Either way, all the transports in orbit were being stripped for cash relentlessly and I wasn't one to be spared either. They started shooting at me soon enough. Rule #5 says: when confronted with unfavourable odds, play for time. Something might just bail you out.
I was about to initiate the money transfer when this bounty hunter shows up, screaming into a fight. The poor guy had no chance from the start, but I used his diversion to dock with the planet just as the docking ring came back up. The LSF showed up afterwards, clearly alerted by the now online defensive perimeter. I decided to pay a visit to the local bar and sit this one out till it's over. Liberty Ale ain't as bad as they say it is.. An hour or so later the regular rush has resumed, and this attack was distant past in everyone's minds.
I was quite interested in the fate of the hunter. I asked around and it seems the police managed to tractor in his escape pod before Manhattan's gravity sucked it in. He's probably in questioning right now. If I ever cross paths with him again, I'm gonna make it worth his while. Rule #2 says with allegiance come enemies, without it comes justice. It's better that I make sure he does not view me as an enemy.
It is foolhardy to say that this is the last encounter I'll be having with the Lane Hackers. Despite being part of the smuggling ring, they still proceed to hunt me and right now I've most likely ended up on their bad side. But then again I might be dead before they ever even get to me again. All is good, for now.. It's time to go to the Taus with my shipment. I'll be visiting New York again soon enough..
Sometimes relying on dumb luck is the only thing you can do.
No Junker base seems to be safe anymore. A few months ago, maybe. But now? Last week there was a crackdown at Rochester, the police barged in like they owned the place looking for a Hacker who was apparently last seen right there. They went through the whole station with a fine toothed comb, found nothing and then they just flew off. Makes you wonder how many of our "brothers" work closely with the pigs.
Today? Well. Lets just say the moment I climbed into the cockpit of my ship through the mooring tube, I saw a ship passing right by trying to frantically get away. Engaging my scanners I saw three naval ships not 10 km behind him. Right next to Beaumont. They definitely tracked him down to here. I think all my smuggling routes have just been compromised, which is a real shame. The problem being, I don't feel safe in a Junker base anymore, at least not the ones in Liberty.
I'm gonna have to find some cover job till this mess blows over. Thank christ I forgot to order to load my ship with all that spooky cargo I was gonna pick up last night. God knows whats in these boxes, and I'm not paid to know, but these navy flyboys sure as hell have hard enough scanners to know. If it happened to be contraband, I would've been toast.
Maybe this is the fallout from all the weird stuff that's been happening in Liberty lately? The other day I find an Outcast sitting in the bar at Rochester, quite shaken too. He told me a story straight out of a conspiracy book, though there was something about the way he was telling it. He didn't look like a proper nut either, more like a normal guy who just had an unexpected smack in the face that almost took his whole head off.
The guy told me there is a visible Nomad presence in New York, he seen their vessels multiple times but it was almost like they ignored him. Then a few days later some civvie spots the Nomads and the police make the foolish move of rallying to that location. Then an LSF gunboat tags along and orders the police vessels to stand down and ignore the Nomads operating in the area, which the officers don't do. Fifteen minutes later the captain of the gunboat is declared an enemy of the state and a fat bounty is placed on his head. Not surprisingly he then disappears. Turns out the Order intercepted him, and this Outcast has been having weird encounters with all sorts of weird people ever since. The guy explicitly told me he was worrying about his life, but was reluctant to go seek out the "experts on the matter", because they shoot people like him on sight. What did I do? What could I do? I bought the next two rounds. Who knows how much longer will this guy even live..
I'm moving to Bretonia for the moment. I heard there is gold in them there Dublin asteroids. Time to profit from the war in the area. Rule #23 says: "When compromised or possibly compromised, change your area of operation and your friends. You have just been ratted out."
I'd prefer not to get ratted out..
So there it is. I knew it was gonna happen at some point, but never did I suspect that it was going to be so freaky.
My train just got it's engine busted and it's cargo bays destroyed and is slowly floating towards the surface of Curacao, and I am sitting in an escape pod not too far from it. All cargo pods have been blown to bits, goodbye one million credits. Goddammit, I hope those "buddies" of mine hurry up with their haulers, I sent the distress ages ago.
This is of course no accident, someone paid money for this. A lot of money. The... hitman or whoever the hell he was that did this flew a nice and bright Junker IFF, he knew what he was doing. Now I have to tell you I never seen myself being surgically eliminated like this. A clumsy pirate demanding cash? Maybe. A maverick sheriff copper? Quite. But by a friggin' mercenary? Christ.. someone definitely is trying to knock me off with a purpose.
I'm gonna have to question my "colleagues" over at Rochester if they sold someone a Junker IFF lately. This is a special situation. Normally I would drop it but if they are sending mercs at me, I'm not going to see the end of it. I'm gonna need to take out that old Collector pile of junk I've been savoring and make myself a trip to the Hackers or something. See what they can come up with. Perhaps I should hire a mercenary of my own? Or at least a full escort.
Enough with the babble. The haulers are here, damn bastards took their time too. Next stop: that floating metal hovel, Rochester.
When you think things can't get any worse.. even more poop hits the proverbial fan just to prove you wrong.
The fixer boys over at "th' hovel" got the engines running again and a favour I cashed in with that curly midget guy earned me a bunch of new cargo pods. I'm back and running on the freeway, though steering clear of the usual smuggle for a while. Too many eyes pointed in that direction.
I've been asking around about that mercenary incident thing. Can't shake it off my mind. So far the only thing I can say is that the Lane Hackers are a peculiar bunch, the boys always show up when you need them most, like they're able to hack into your brain or something. Told one of them I'm gonna owe him a big fat favour if he delivers some info on who the hell is putting all these contracts on backwater freighters in Liberty, and he said he'll come back to me.
After today though? Do I really need a Hacker to tell me what is happening when the only thing he could do is confirm what I pretty much already know?
So this guy what's-his-face Reynolds flips out the other week and starts looking for support amongst the local freighters to organise a little protest against the powers that be. I don't say I blame him, Liberty has been running wild recently. Gun dealer registration, vessel registration, a little bit of this and a little bit of that all topped off with the LSF being indiscriminate in blowing up everybody they deem suspicious - really impedes the business if you know what I mean. Turns out he wasn't the only green bean around the quarter, and a whole load of people signed up for this "march". Heck, even I told him that I might tag along if I'm in the vicinity, ignore the profiteering rules this one time.
Rule #25 again, the one about relying on dumb luck. I was minding my own business elsewhere when it all started. Turns out the peaceful march was quite one sided when a couple of naval characters showed up and toasted everybody for the sheer heck of it. Shieldless, weaponless transports. What a massacre. The bodycount is like.. eighteen so far. No way the Navy is gonna get out of this one without a shake-up. Maybe that crooked "acting admiral" of theirs finally gets impeached.
But I'm rambling again. That Reynolds guy, he's supposed to be dead right? His cute little assistant even posted up her angstful messages all over the New York neural net. Well, here's where it turns into a conspiracy. Apparently a few people saw this civilian Camara racing to from Manhattan to West Point and picking up all the spoils, which very likely included Reynolds and a few more of his survivor friends. Who wants to shout "revolution"?
I really need to get out of these Libertonian politics. I am putting too much at stake here, and I almost died once because of this already. It's about time I got my head straight and started following the rules closely again.
I met that bat**** crazy Outcast today on Buffalo again. Bought the fellow a few drinks, we talked about this and that. He said something about catching a glimpse of this local Junker fleeing Liberty in terror with his panties in a bunch. Rumours are cruising about that Liberty may be trying to knock off the few survivors of that Naval raid who didn't bother to disappear yet, so everyone even remotely involved in this is either running for the hills or digging themselves in on one of the pirate bases in the sector. I can only be sorry for the poor sods that attempt to hide on Rochester, that base is being checked out daily by the corporate police nowadays. Even the Junkers are moving house, talk about rats fleeing from a sinking ship..
Maybe it really ain't such a bad idea to leave Liberty permanently? The longer I stay here, the weirder it becomes and I'm afraid I'm gonna get dragged into something sooner or later. Either way a decision is gonna have to be made. Rule #23.. bah, nevermind that..
Two weeks ago I would've bitten myself on the tongue. I moved house to Bretonia due to that whole Liberty mess. I wanted to call in a few favours to help set myself up again in there. Managed to sell some Kusari guns to the local authorities. They said they need them for research purposes, but I couldn't care less really. That was an easy 500k credits.
When I arrive on Trafalgar I realise that half of the old crew is gone and that it is mostly infested with passing Corsairs nowadays. A real shame, the place used to be pretty solid.
The first thing I do is try to call on that bloody sod, Rusty McGavin. A young guy, Dubliner, and owes me a few favours. Instead I find one of his pals whom I end up buying three London "Buccaneers" and he tells me an interesting story about Rusty. How Corsairs blew up a civvie transport with himself and some broad he liked onboard; how he was one of the only survivors of the catastrophe, and how he joined up with the Bretonia Police just after the Queen started working it out with that Dublin insurgency. Patriotism always got him into stupid situations, especially since he had it for all of Bretonia and not just Dublin. The fool got kicked out by the Mollys, who were homicidal maniacs bent on killing the Queen and whomever managed to be in her service back then. Then he got kicked out of Leeds for being a suspected terrorist. He ended up on Trafalgar and now he's god knows where.
Everyone else had either left or died so I decided to snoop around. I read up on the local news.. "blah blah Corsairs attempt to siege Cambridge, capture dozens of local police officers". Sounded like a good lead so I picked up on that, bought an old CSV for some chump change, loaded it up with a few food crates and went on my way to that blasted hell-hole, Crete. Those starving Corsair cannibals sure were happy to see me when I announced I brought some nutrition over. They walked me all over the place, told me to bring the tale back to Bretonia and all. I asked Mr Corsair Hospitality how many officers they managed to capture and he said "somewhere around forty". My next question was if there was a ginger, mid height and shouty bastard amongst one of those they captured. Can anybody guess what the answer was?
So I stroke a deal with the pirate. If they give what I brought over to those prisoners (and it wasn't much, let me tell you, CSVs used to look spacious but not any more) I'll deposit a whole train load of food crates to Crete later that evening. Pro bono. And they agreed. I did what I promised, the prisoners lived a few more days thanks to that food delivery and I returned to Bretonia to hang around Trafalgar base. Turns out my timing was perfect with the food, the government took their time but they finally decided to do a prisoner exchange with those bloody Corsairs, albeit I only got informed about it on my way back from Crete. I suppose I will be having Rusty looking for me to "thank" me soon. I swear he owes me more favours than ever by now..
In the mean time I went on a trip to the Omicron sector and managed to do something that I will most likely regret later on. Getting hired by an Outcast famillia to haul their stink is a dangerous job, but the money.. well, it attracts. Strongly. Add to that a person like me who knows his way around the sector, and wads of cash multiply like Xenos in a Texas prison. Sounds exciting doesn't it? Well, it's not. The job consists of taking the most silly backwaters man had ever thought up, all in order to avoid the frequent crackdowns that all the houses organise on the drug trade. Then there is that silly Outcast syndicate that wants a monopoly on the stuff, but for all the screaming they had done so far they sure aren't doing a good job in finding me. I must either be lucky or really, really good.
Texas seems to be dead easy to move through nowadays, even despite all that Liberty mess. As long as I enter and leave quickly, nobody is even bothering me, and Don Tattaglia lets me keep a lot of the profit. All is looking up for now, and I can just disappear if this whole drug deal blows. Leave the old boy a message that I am laying low and won't be ferrying his sniff poison around for a while. What could possibly happen, right?
Hopefully Bretonia is going to work out better than Liberty.. I would hate having to move house to Rheinland. What a nuthole that is.. The Rheinland Military is the royal pain in the arse of the sector. Last time I was there I was just trying to sell this gun I found and they ran me off guns blazing. Jesus, what an unfriendly place. I better not screw up this time..
If you want information to travel far and wide, leave it to a Junker to do the job for you.
Being back in the loop ain't necessarily a good thing, but at least there is stuff to do. That little Don that supplied me with work is laying low for the moment, so I took another job which involves me raising funds for this nice little revolutionary organisation, but the good thing about the job is that it doesn't involve me meeting them much. There's some serious money moving around, that's for sure. Either way, it put me back on a popular route into Liberty, and as all things involving that place - this means trouble.
Today it was a roving band of Outcasts bent on shutting down New York. Now normally these sort of people don't bother me in the slightest, but something ticked them off this time around and one of them tried to strip me of my cargo. Sitting there, moving on impulse speed, thinking how to get myself out of this situation, the incredible smuggler's luck bails me out again. A battlegroup of Harvesters arrives, and opens fire on the pirates. Sounds quite unreal, but rather than ponder it at the time, I hit the thrusters and got the hell out of there. If these guys survived the attack, they are going to be very, very ticked off at me. If it wasn't for the quid my little benefactor is providing me with, I'd be done with this right there. Although.. rule #18 states greed is good, if applied in moderation. I'm wondering whether to slow down on this one.
Either way, that was me done for the evening. I decided to pay a little visit to Trafalgar, see how the old boys there are doing. Didn't change much from the last visit, still polluted with drunks moaning about how great whatever place they come from is. There was one that caught my attention though, was blabbering something about ridiculous things going on at Bornholm. Sounded like a crazy person at first, but Bornholm usually does attract nutcases of all kind. The guy mentioned something about a fleet of Bounty Hunters getting blown to bits right outside the base.
Now one thing for sure is that Junker scrap collectors don't pack a fraction of the firepower those nuts in the Guild do, and figuring how I had to wait it out before I would be able to get back to Liberty, I found it a good idea to go check it out. When I arrived there I saw the weirdest thing: a bunch of Liberty Navy defectors and a Harvester working together in protecting a Junker base. Pretty peculiar so far, but they seem to be bent on cleaning up all the junk around the station. Looks like a really big deal. I need to hang around to see what happens.
Right before I re-entered Dresden, I saw a group of Hessian patrols in Omega-15. They sure don't venture there often, but somehow I am guessing it's related to whatever is happening at Bornholm. If I get the picture right, the Hessians have no love for the Harvesters nor the Libertonians. I better keep close tabs.
The first piece of each puzzle is always the one that opens eyes the most.
This one started out as a rumour: something juicy on long range scans of Beaumont and Houston. At least three independent sources confirmed. First Bornholm, and now this? It was obvious they were waiting for some hotshot who wouldn't be afraid to make their way into a cloud of death. I figured it was going to be like the Colorado silver rush amongst the locals very soon.
So I made my haste to Beaumont to pay careful attention to what would happen, and perhaps steer things the way I wanted there. The entire base was running around like headless chickens, traffic going in and out constantly. Took a bottle of local bourbon with me, and I launched to space to discover that even the Liberty Rogues joined in to protect the operations and get a skid of what was going on. The comms were completely flooded with transmissions. I listened carefully to the comm channel, waiting for something juicy.
Wasn't a long wait either. Our "hotshot" soon called, stuck somewhere in a dark matter field in Texas, apparently unable to move. Being the lucky guy as I am, I stumbled upon the character in the first cloud I wanted to search through, with only one catch. That's right, there is always a catch. In this case, it was a flurry of Xenos coming at me. Not thinking much, I grabbed my comm switch and told the local Rogues to come and help me. I was almost relieved when I saw a small fleet of them arrive, and start blasting the rednecks. Patched into their secure comms, they assured me it was going to be easy. Funny. Everyone I meet who underestimates the damned banjo twisters ends up losing to their ridiculous swarm.
Either way, these Rogues lasted quite a bit. The typical furball started, and after a moment it almost seemed as if only me and this one mouthy Xeno were interested in the whole prize. That Junker hot stuff, being so confused by all this and the fact that his IFF system was offline, followed that white trash wannabe all the way to the Hudson jump gate, and then actually jumped through. It took me following him and telling him that he is currently in the Xeno hive of Sirius for the guy to realise where he just ended up. Of course, his entire ship then powered down and we were stuck fighting the blasted hillbillies at the actual jump gate. They tried to haul him off with a line several times, and if it wasn't for me they would've done so.
They did it anyways, considering how from our entire war party only three rogues actually made it to Hudson, and I happened to first hand meet the whole identity parade of high ranking bottle blowers the moment we got there. Half of them all over the Liberty evening news most of the time, the other half former naval or black ops officers who got disenfranchised. Some bunch to fight against with a couple of simple pirates on a friday afternoon. I had to bail out soon, as the Rogues started to make a run for it, for which I don't blame them considering we were vastly outnumbered and outgunned. The prize ain't worth my life, that's for sure...
I landed on Houston, still a bit shaky from the whole gobsmack back there. Sitting in the cockpit, I started pondering: where the hell was the LSF in all this? If anyone would know about this deal, it would be them. Yet they weren't anywhere in sight. Almost seems like they wanted this stuff to be intercepted by the asteroid lickers over there. It also occured to me that the moment I run across the moonshine cats again, no doubt they are going to give me the hot treatment first hand, first priority. I was pretty much telling the Rogues what to do back there, it's a possibility that I'm on the "high ranking targets" list now. So much for being insignificant. Rather than panic, my first thought was to try and arm this piece of junk of mine properly. It can run easily right now, but it can't do much more. So I called in a few favours here and there, got some stuff from those generous Mollys up in Dublin, and finally got around to plugging in and testing all these trinkets I was savouring away in a stash on Leeds. Even managed to get a hand on some Ageira branded stuff. It will sure help in the up and coming.
So I'm going to stay in Bretonia for now. Again.
I may not have gotten the full scoop on that thing we found in the dark matter cloud, but there seems to be something brewing up in New London now. Gotta visit the old lad: "Hicky" Hopkins (or "Riff-raff", or whatever they call him now), tell him what's up. He might just have a good scoop for me, and considering his ties and past... well - I wouldn't be surprised. Guess I'll be gracing Trafalgar (or as we used to call it: "ye old pisser") with my presence for a while now. At least the whiskey is better than that chemed up Liberty bourbon...