The Chronicles of Zetro Strange

[Stormrunner]

London Ain'€™t The Same No More Pt.1

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.'€™'€™