graf of grafmanitou

I’ve fallen in with the Crimson Boys. Folks who understand about making ones own way in the dark. And who don’t sympathize with the simpering fools who figure people are owed just for being whelped. It was the old man who put me onto them. We were commiserating over our cups, and of course that led to politics. Turns out he was on Alioth when the Alliance declared the independents, and signed onto a Q-ship right at the start of the Independence War. He remembered some of the crew he fought with, and their children, and it turns out they were living large at the edge of Alliance space amid a cluster of Independents. A lot of things changed in the last 70 years, but out there (he said) folks still valued their freedom: free of taxes, free of oppressive rules, free of bureaucracy. It sounded like a place I wanted to be, people I could relate to.

Traveler carried me across the frontier systems to Alliance space where the Crimson Boys made their nest: Maringpho. I traded a bit, and scouted out systems along the path. The Boys gave me good coin for the info, and I did a few missions for them in Maringpho and their neighborhood. They’re tight with the Alliance, and the local commissioner has certified me as Trailblazer, meaning I’ve taken more than 1.2 million credits from him for surveying systems in the near dark.

The Boys have also profited immensely from the crap I’ve found out there, and have been quite pleased with me as a partner. In short, I’ve made myself a home with a new family. And now I’m getting Traveler ship-shape for a long haul into the void. My mission: identify and relay back to the Boys and the Alliance earth-like worlds and metallic celestials that will make me rich and strengthen the Alliance.

I’m sitting beneath a great mantle of stones and ice, rings around a violet gas giant in a system I thought had never before been visited by Man.

How naïve.

In my hold sit six computer cores I’ve scooped up nearby after stopping to investigate distinctly unnatural scraps of metal and plastic. The amber readout Traveler is presenting indicates detailed reports of Federation fleet movements and OOBs. One even provides Fed dockyard specifications for newer capital ship construction. The circuits are clearly Imperial.

If I’m caught with this…

Ok, I’ll head straight for hidey-hole and see if the geezer has an interest. I think I can trust him. I mean the type – this must be worth something to someone out here, and I can just see the cred signs in his eyes. Couldn’t give a rat’s ass whether Feds or Imps blast each other to shit, it’s just one set of rules or another. I’ve got bills to pay, and I’m sure they don’t give a rat’s ass about me!

Supplemental: I met the old man. He gave me a knowing look, but wouldn’t spill, even with a bottle of celebratory Solar single malt split between us. Which I can afford now – he forked over 35,000 creds for the m-intel. Best I could make out, Feds and Imps regularly play the cold war out here in the dark, and in this case someone lost. So I win. Better watch my back and fly cold.

Testing. WIP, and still reading the manual!