I had just landed my ship and was just about to head for a pub when it started to rain, it was a some time ago since I saw and felt the raindrops that to the inhabitants of New London come as natural to them as the air they breath. The rain pattered down on my ship, an Armored Transport. I hate when it rains, to me, rain has always served as an prelude to dangers. The metal clangs from when the rain paltered down on my ships's alloys made me think of when I cruised through the Avelmore Icefields heading for Invergordon, That time it was small ice-crystals that hailed all over the ships shield, this was before I had bought my ''Pelican'' Transport, and I was running on a very low-budget smuggling run. The Ship I used was an dromedary which shield was an used ''brigandine'' model. It was when I traveled through these fields I noticed several holes in the shield caused by an being in the shape of an energy distortion inside the field, now far gone, it disappeared after it had drained my ship's computer of all it's info.
But anyway, back on solid ground I was almost certain that I wouldn't encounter any anomalies, since the rain had stopped. I walked toward the pub, however for some reason I took what I thought was an shortcut through an alleyway. I heard rapid splashes from boots hitting puddles of newly fallen rainwater, someone was running, an man was running towards me shouting for help, his face was blooded and he seemed to have trouble standing up not to mention running. Another man flew out fast like an speeding bullet from an connecting alleyway and tackled the man down to the ground, another man walked out of the house where the blooded one had first ran out from.
In his right hand was an taser, in the other handcuffs, they were Bounty Hunters. While all this was happening I hid behind an dumpster, in it's shade I could watch without being spotted by the two vile mercenaries that think of themselves as some heroic vigilantes of the entire Sirius sector. They took their time with the man, I was not sure if their mission was to collect him or kill him, because when he was on the ground they kicked and punched the man for some time before tasing him to unconsciousness.
I have never held any hate against the Guild, only against some of it's members.
They're gone now, to collect their bounty no doubt, I head for the pub, the rain starts to strike down again, I hate when it rains...
I should thank her, but I'm not sure what gift or action would suffice for having my life saved by a stranger. We met during one of my smuggling runs. I was stopped by some Corsairs who were in the mood to avenge one of their mate's death caused by me blowing up an Xenos base where he was stationed to spy on them and their activities.
''Gentlemen'', I said to the leader, ''You may think that you have the upper hand since you have more ships then I, and that I should give up, or you would kill me and destroy my ship. You think that you have the upper hand, but all is relative...''
I was outnumbered, and even I knew that the odds were against me, when out of the darkness of space, a giant ''Shire'' transport entered the scene because of the severed tradelane, I had noticed it on my scanner while I was speaking with them.
She could've ignored it, I called out in distress for an savior, and there she was, and to put it simple she explained that the odds had changed and talked them out of starting a fight. They relieved me of my cargo and took it as an tribute to the Corsairs, and I was furious at her. I would have rather been ejected of my own ship in an cargo pod then losing all of those munitions, but I thanked her anyway and we parted ways. However, as time went along we met again at New London, and I agreed to be part of a larger trading convoy.
Since then I've turned from alternative trading and joined the masses of Freelance/Independent Traders.
I'm not used to it, but although I rather enjoy not having to hide from the law all the time, I still get harassed by some organizations trying to uphold the law in their own way.
We've actually smuggled some too, although not much compared to what I did before. Several times we have discussed about a syndicate, an union of the independent! Traders helping traders! It's a plan for the future, but maybe some day it'll come to fruition. We parted ways a couple of weeks ago and I did not hear from her until received an message two days ago. It was from her, wishing to see me urgently. That is why I went to New London, thinking my ''friend in crime'' might've had news on our plans for this ''Traders Syndicate''. However, we need people. But I'm sure there's a lot of like-minded beings out there.
I got to her house and noticed a parked hovercar outside. I didn't recognize it, and the bloke outside with a gun looked rather unfamiliar too. Loud noises came from the office on the top floor. I sneaked up to the balcony, standing under it, and could hear what sounded like someone thrashing around all over in the room above. It sounded almost as if they were tearing up the floor. I grabbed my gun and removed it from it's holster, taking out the guard before the door easily with my knife. Corsairs! It wasn't hard to guess how they'd gotten this far into Bretonia, with Gallian ships all over Bretonian space. It must be nearly impossible for the police to keep up their patrols without running into a Gallic battleship.
The ground floor of the house although a complete mess, was empty. The second floor was housing one person at least judging from the considerable amount of noise that came from there. Slowly I walked up the steps, the thrashing had stopped, now all that you could hear was silence. I opened the door, and I heard an clicking sound, a flechette rifle went of and some rounds hit me all over my right leg and I collapsed on the floor, I heard someone walking, the floorboards of the office creaked, ''Mr. Strange...! How grand of you to join us!'' I noticed Victoria, tied to an chair, seemingly unharmed. I recognized the man from somewhere, but before I got a good look at him he laughed and said, with a grin on his face; ''You thought you had the upper hand, Zetro. But, as you already know, everything is relative.''
