### random file found in one of the public terminals, possibly originated from one of the ships that used to dock here recently, apparently with misconfigured access to local ship logs. ###
Personal Log, July 16, 821 A.S.
Life is finally good. Well, decent...
Not that it was bad recently. But between angry LSF officers mumbling something about embargo in Bering, manifesting their words with lavablade fire, and angry Kusaris giving that weird looks everytime I place my feet in Sigmas, followed by a round of laser rounds, a bit of relax is definately a good thing. And there are few things more relaxing than a sip of a cool rheinbeer in a cockpit still filled with trace amount of cardamine that didn't yet vented away. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
Yes, that second-hand Wrecker was indeed a nice offer, but considering it drinks MOX, HFuel or whatever liquid I pour into fuel tanks like crazy, it would be best to find a more repeatable source of income than occasional salvage operation. This, along with plain boredom, was my main reason I signed into this journey.
I never met those guys before, but they seemed trustworthy enough to get into scanner range with them and not risk being shot shortly after. What first looked like another salvage operation ended up being one of the strangest company of people I ever met. There were those two salvager captains - one seemed like he was some sort of a leader to this group, the other one was silent to a point of beeing creepy sometimes; another passerby like me in another wrecker, and two crazy guys in some otherwise indistinctive civilian snubs, who behaved like two kids with cardamine-induced ADHD in an advanced phase.
I honestly don't know how this weird group managed to stay together. Anyway, it was comforting for once not to travel this route alone.
Sooner than It felt, we arrived in Sigmas, and somehow without any disturbance from Kusari (for once!) we arrived in Omicron Alpha
I ended up liking these guys. Not that I managed to get to know them, but It was good to feel you're part of some group. Hell, after finally enjoying some sniffs from good old orange fresh air, we ended up dreaming about performing more salvage operations in the future. Even on something, that only a mad man would attempt to salvage...
Side note - cardamine really feels weird after a while. I don't really know if my vision had gone haywire, but hell, it was way more probable than everyone going trigger happy...
This journey started as suddenly as it ended. I don't know where they went, as we parted our ways on New Berlin. What I know now though is, that the shady fella who bought all my stash of cardamine managed to also fill my cargo with some decend rheinbeer, and it's going to sell really nice in Manhattan, provided I will somehow sneak myself through all the custom checkpoints. That should make my life somewhat easier in the following days.
I don't know if I will ever meet them again, but I know one thing for certain. When you sniff cardamine and drink rheinbeer, life feels good...
Hey, I thought I fixed this s***ty piece of software! Where are you writing at? I ask you, damned computer, where are you writing that file?! Stop before I #005643#585699NullPointerException#TransmissionTerminated###