《Trader in Space sci fi world - Renovating an Old Rust Bucket of a Spaceship》 Diary Entries of Renovating an old Spaceship Diary Entry #1: The Gamble Stardate: 7.12.2347 The datapad feels heavy in my hand. Like my gut. I just did it. I used almost every single credit I¡¯ve saved over five frustrating years at the hydroponics farm. Every. Single. One. For what? A floating pile of space scrap called the Stardust Drifter. I know, I know. Everyone on Level 3 thinks I¡¯ve lost it. Even my maintenance unit, MU-7, gave me a long, concerned beep before trundling back to its charging station. But I¡¯m tired of the same routine, the recycled air, the endless rows of glowing lettuce. I want to see actual stars. Not pictures projected onto the hydroponics bay ceiling. The Drifter¡­ well, she¡¯s a mess. Her hull¡¯s a patchwork quilt of mismatched plating, there are more dents than smooth surfaces, and the comms panel looks like it¡¯s been chewed by a space rat. The broker all but laughed when I handed over the access codes. Called her a ¡°reliable rust bucket.¡± But I saw something in her, a spark maybe, amidst all the peeling paint and exposed wiring. She feels¡­ right. I know it sounds crazy. But this is happening. Tomorrow, the real work begins. No more lettuce, just grit and grease. Wish me luck, or at least, send spare parts. Diary Entry #2: Initial Inspection - A Disasterpiece Stardate: 7.15.2347 Today was¡­ revealing. I spent most of the day trying to navigate the Drifter¡¯s cramped interior. The living quarters are barely habitable. The sleep cubicle smells faintly of burnt circuits and something vaguely¡­pickle-like. The galley unit looks like it hasn''t been cleaned in cycles. I¡¯m pretty sure I saw a small, bioluminescent organism living in the nutrient dispenser. The engines, thankfully, seem salvageable, though they¡¯re caked in some kind of space grime that may be sentient, for all I know. The navigation system is older than me and has a fondness for flashing a rainbow of error codes. I swear, it tried to communicate with me in binary at one point. MU-7, who I brought along despite its initial reservations, seems less than thrilled. It keeps whirring disapprovingly and shining its diagnostic beam on things I haven¡¯t even touched yet. Still, its little manipulator arms are proving incredibly useful at getting into those hard-to-reach places. We¡¯re going to need a lot of supplies. Today''s shopping list: industrial cleaner, replacement wiring, a new nutrient synthesiser, and maybe a hazmat suit. This is going to be a long, long process. But I¡¯ve committed. Time to start stripping her down. Diary Entry #3: The Great Deconstruction Stardate: 7.22.2347This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. Hands aching, covered in grease, and smelling vaguely of space-corrosion, I¡¯ve made progress. Almost all of the old, broken components have been ripped out. It was like peeling away layers of the Drifter¡¯s past; each removed panel, each freed wire, felt like a step towards a new beginning. I found a data chip hidden beneath the floor plating. It¡¯s an old log, from what I could decode. The Drifter wasn¡¯t always a rust bucket. She had a crew, a life, adventures. Reading their stories made me feel¡­connected to her. It fueled the fire. MU-7 finally started to warm up today. It seems to enjoy disassembling things. We discovered a structural weakness near the main thruster unit but managed to stabilize it. The old nav-system is completely unsalvageable though, it is just refusing to communicate. I¡¯ve started looking for replacements online. Those are going to be costly. I need to find a side hustle to keep the credits flowing. Maybe I can sell some hydroponically grown lettuce¡­ ironic. Diary Entry #4: Sparks Fly - Literally Stardate: 8.01.2347 Today involved a lot of sparks. And a small fire. Mostly my fault, attempting to install a new power converter. I think I may have wired something backwards. But hey, learning by doing, right? MU-7 was very helpful in extinguishing the flames. I think I spotted a hint of amusement in its blinking sensor. I managed to get the life support system mostly functional. The air is cleaner, the temperature regulated, and thankfully, no more pickle-scent. I¡¯ve started to feel like I¡¯m making the ship my own. I¡¯ve found some old datapads with basic ship design schematics, and I¡¯m spending my evenings sketching out what I want the Drifter to look like. Better storage, a proper workstation, and a dedicated stargazing viewport are top of my list. I feel a surge of possibility, a rush. This is more than just a ship now, it¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s hope. Even though it nearly fried me. Diary Entry #5: The Core is Reborn Stardate: 8.15.2347 The new navigation system arrived today! It was hideously expensive, but I managed to cobble together an emergency delivery service contract transporting medical supplies to Level 8 to cover the cost. MU-7 and I installed it, and after a few tense moments, the system sprang to life. I cannot explain the sheer joy I felt when the star charts appeared on the main display. I spent hours just gazing at them, dreaming of where the Drifter and I will go. We also finished rebuilding the secondary power core. It hums like a sleeping beast, steady and strong. It''s like the heart of the ship has begun to beat again. The living quarters, while still compact, feel more comfortable now. I even managed to stitch together some old synth-fabric I found into new curtains. Progress may be slow but it all feels very personal. I can''t wait to see what she''ll do. Diary Entry #6: Ready for Launch Stardate: 9.01.2347 The Stardust Drifter is ALMOST ready. The final touches are being applied: diagnostics, polish, and a fresh coat of paint that isn''t peeling. I¡¯ve even given her a proper name: the ¡°Phoenix.¡± It feels right. From rust to rebirth. I¡¯ve checked and re-checked all the systems, calibrating every little dial and gauge until my eyes are crossing. MU-7 is buzzing with excitement, its manipulators tapping rhythmically on the control console. We¡¯re ready. We¡¯ve put a lot of blood, sweat, and yes, space-pickle smell into this ship. It¡¯s a huge step, leaving the only life I¡¯ve ever known. But I know there¡¯s more out there, waiting for us. Tomorrow, we leave. The Phoenix and I. Wish us speed and safe journey. I can¡¯t wait to see what the universe has in store for us. This is just the beginning. Diary Entries 7 -13 Stardate: 2348.07.12 Diary Entry 7 The Phoenix... it feels surreal to actually be on it and going. After all those late nights under the flickering work lights, the welding sparks, the grime¡­ it¡¯s finally something more than just a collection of salvaged parts. She¡¯s beautiful, even if ¡°beautiful¡± to a star-hopping junker like me means functional and dependable. The engines purr like a contented cat ¨C or a very hungry one, depending on how you look at it ¨C and the new life support systems are cycling perfectly. Today, we set course for the Kepler-186f system. Heard whispers of a small colony there, desperately in need of raw materials. Hopefully, my newly acquired stock of processed durasteel will catch their eye. It¡¯s time to see if this Phoenix can rise. Stardate: 2348.07.19 Diary Entry 8 Kepler-186f was¡­ underwhelming. The colony, ¡°Hope¡¯s Landing,¡± was just that ¨C a landing, not much of a settlement. More like a collection of reinforced hab-units clinging to the edge of a desolate plateau. They were, however, exactly as desperate as the whispers suggested. They needed everything ¨C durasteel, water filters, even protein paste. The bargaining was¡­ protracted. Their leader, a wizened woman named Anya, clearly knew her worth and wasn''t about to be swindled. I started at 12 credits per kilo of durasteel, eventually haggling down to 8, plus a small stockpile of hydroponic nutrient solution, which is always handy. It was a tough trade, but fair, and they were grateful. I even managed to pick up some local crystal formations they were mining that seem to have some kind of low-level energy resonance. Might be worth something later. First trade of the Phoenix, a success! Now, I need to figure out how to convert this nutrient mix into something edible... Stardate: 2348.07.25 Diary Entry 9 Living on the Phoenix is¡­ cozy. Let''s try that again, living on the Phoenix is cramped. I¡¯ve got my ¡®living¡¯ quarters squeezed into what used to be a storage compartment, and I¡¯ve learned that having the comms array right next to my bunk means I get the distinct pleasure of hearing every encrypted message that comes in. It also means I have to watch what I say when I''m muttering to myself about the joys of protein paste. At least the new hydroponic garden is thriving. Basil and a species of space cabbage that the Kepler-186f colonists call ¡°Sunburst¡± have made their debut. It''s a welcome sight of green in this metal environment. Today I¡¯m routing power to the newly installed sonic scrubber so I can finally get rid of this stubborn grease that has been clinging to the floor for weeks.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Stardate: 2348.08.01 Diary Entry 10 Jumped to the Epsilon Eridani system today. It¡¯s supposed to be a hub for small, independent traders like myself. My hold is nearly full again ¨C I traded the energy crystals from Kepler-186f to a prospector for a shipment of recycled plastics. Not a huge profit margin, but I¡¯m building a network of contacts, and that¡¯s worth more than credits at this early stage. The space station at Epsilon Eridani, "The Knot," is a fascinating, chaotic mess of ships of all shapes and sizes. I spent most of the day dodging rusty freighters and listening to a chorus of alien languages. This experience confirmed my theory that the galaxy is held together by duct tape and sheer stubbornness. I feel like I''m starting to truly find my place in this crazy, vast universe. Stardate: 2348.08.07 Diary Entry 11 The Knot is proving to be a goldmine of information. I¡¯ve been spending evenings at a dive bar called ¡°The Zero G Grille¡±, listening to the local gossip. Heard a rumor about a derelict vessel drifting in the outer reaches of the system, an old freighter supposedly packed with advanced tech. Not sure if I believe it, but it''s worth checking out. I also managed to sell off most of my plastic cargo at a decent profit to a droid repair outfit. I spent the credits to give the oxygen scrubbers a much-needed overhaul, and even splurged on a couple of extra data storage units. Efficiency is key with this kind of life. Also, I discovered that ¡°Sunburst¡± space cabbage, when blended with protein paste, makes an almost palatable soup. Almost. Stardate: 2348.08.10 Diary Entry 12 Decided to chase the derelict freighter story. It took me two days of zigzagging through asteroid fields, but I found it. It¡¯s the ¡°Stardust Drifter,¡± an ancient cargo vessel, half of it looks like it was literally swallowed by space. Boarding was¡­ an adventure. The hull plating was breached in numerous places, and the gravity generators were definitely malfunctioning. It was a chilling experience wandering through the dark, silent corridors, feeling like I was trespassing on a space tomb. However, the rumors were true, there is some tech on board, but mostly damaged. I salvaged some advanced sensor arrays and a partially functional jump drive component. The latter might be worth something to the right tech-head. The Phoenix is going to need some serious repairs after this trip, though, I had a near miss with a flying piece of debris that tore through the side of her hull. Stardate: 2348.08.13 Diary Entry 13 Back at The Knot. The jump drive component sold for enough credits to repair the Phoenix and buy a few extra days'' worth of fuel. The sensor arrays I¡¯m keeping, they should be able to enhance my long range scanning capabilities. I feel like I am finally getting into a rhythm, trade, explore, repair, repeat. It''s hard work, but seeing the Phoenix in flight, cutting through the blackness, gives me a satisfying sense of accomplishment. I''m learning the ropes, making my own way in this vast, unpredictable universe. And that''s enough for now. Maybe the next derelict will be full of working technology. But maybe not. What is space without a little bit of chaos? Dairy Entries 13 - 19 Stardate 2350.013 Well, the logs don¡¯t lie. Enough credits banked to choke a grox. Funny, just thinking about those hydroponics bays makes my back ache. Phoenix has been good to me. She¡¯s earned her keep tenfold. Time to give her some love. Been running diagnostics all day, pinpointing the areas that are¡­ adequate, but could be so much more. The primary thrusters are pushing the line, and the navigational array is definitely showing its age. Today''s the day I start the transformation. The idea of fresh paneling, more efficient energy conduits... it''s making me itch to get my hands dirty. No more dirt under my nails, just maybe the occasional grease stain. Stardate 2350.014 The marketplace on Xylos was a cacophony of lights, chatter, and the distinct metallic clang of vendors hawking worn parts. I went in hunting for high-efficiency heat sinks for the thrusters. And boy, did I find ''em, just not at the price I wanted! The first vendor, a shifty-eyed creature with more scales than a kalari, quoted a ludicrous rate. But I¡¯ve been out on the rim long enough to know the game. Half an hour of back and forth, with me walking away twice, and I finally got them for a price that didn''t feel like highway robbery. Found some decent dampeners as well that should smooth out the ride a bit. I can practically hear the Phoenix sighing with relief already. Stardate 2350.015 Swapped out the old heat sinks today. It was hotter than a star forge inside the engine room. But the feeling of slotting the new ones in¡­ that was something else. The old ones were practically dust and corroded in places. The new ones are gleaming metal. I tested the thrusters afterwards. The difference was immediate. She''s responding like a dream. I can feel the power humming through the Phoenix now, more controlled, more alive. The dampeners too have made a difference. The vibrations are almost unnoticeable. It¡¯s amazing what a little TLC can do. I feel like this ship is part of me now. A weird concept considering she''s just metal and circuits.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Stardate 2350.016 Traded some salvaged parts ¨C a few rare pre-Collapse capacitors I found on my travels ¨C for an upgraded communications array today. The old one was barely reaching the next sector, let alone back home. The bloke I dealt with was a grizzled old human with a cybernetic arm, clearly seen better days, but knew his tech. He actually seemed impressed with the capacitors. He said they were "museum pieces", heh, but a good trade none the less. After install, I can now reach a wider band of signals. I even managed to catch a news broadcast from the core worlds. The world feels massive. And I''m out here, making my own way. Stardate 2350.017 Spent the day rewiring the navigation system. It was a tangled mess of wires, some almost brittle with age. I had to reroute the power conduits and install a new data matrix. It was painstaking work, but it¡¯s also incredibly satisfying. The ship feels like it¡¯s mine in a way it never was before. It''s not just a vessel anymore, it''s an evolving project and that''s a feeling I''ve never experienced before. I feel like I''m building a part of the universe, one component at a time. The old hydrophonics farm feels further away each day. Stardate 2350.018 I treated myself to a proper meal today. Found a small cafe run by a family of T¡¯zara on a small asteroid station. Their food was incredible, a taste of home I haven¡¯t experienced in what feels like forever. I think I was so involved in the Phoenix, I forgot to think about myself. Being out here, it¡¯s easy to just focus on survival. I needed a reminder of why I was doing this. I think the Phoenix needs some comfort, too. Maybe not a T''zara dinner, but something to keep her clean and polished for those longer trips. Time to look into the latest cleaning solutions and protective coatings coming out from the manufacturing planets. Stardate 2350.019 Finished installing the new protective coating and cleaning everything. The Phoenix is shimmering now, almost like she has a new lease on life. I can see myself and what I''ve worked for in the reflection, and that''s the best feeling in the world. Looking at her now, she feels like much more than a ship. She feels like my home, my workshop, my partner in this crazy adventure. No more back-breaking labor in the hydroponics bays. I''m a spacefarer now, and the stars are beckoning. Time to plot my next course, and see what else the galaxy has to offer. The Phoenix is ready for it, and so am I. Diary Entries Stardate: 2351.19 The cosmos is a beautiful, indifferent beast. Today, it showed me its teeth. I was halfway through my run to Kepler-186f, humming along and feeling relatively content, when they showed up ¨C a battered, rust-bucket of a ship that looked like it had been chewed up and spat out by a cosmic whale. Pirates, pure and simple. They didn¡¯t even bother with a sophisticated comms hail, just a crude transmission demanding I hand over my cargo. My heart hammered against my ribs as I saw the glint of weapons ports opening on their hull. The Phoenix, bless her rusty soul, took a pounding. I managed to get out of their firing range by performing a risky maneuver through a nearby asteroid field, but not without taking several direct hits. I can still hear the groans of the metal. I hate to see her like that. I hate it! I escaped them, barely, but the thought of it¡­ the feeling of helplessness¡­ I''m going to be making changes to the Phoenix, starting now. Stardate: 2351.20 Black market. I hate having to trawl through the back alleys of space stations, but needs must. I spent most of the day haggling with a particularly slimy Grolak over weapon systems. He tried to upsell me on everything, of course, but I stood my ground, my voice probably louder than I intended. Finally, I managed to secure two heavy-duty turret systems, the kind that can punch through armour and hull plating. It cost me an insulting amount of credits to buy them. Stardate 2351.021 The deals continued today, and I secured a small cache of sabot missiles. They¡¯re not fast, but they pack a punch, the type that explodes in a wide burst, specifically designed for taking down shields. They¡¯re not exactly common, and they cost a fortune, I only could buy a few. I figure if I run into a ship with those expensive shield generators, this might at least give them a sense of threat. A bone too difficult to chew. I can''t afford shields right now. I also picked up a decent sidearm ¨C a pulse pistol, compact but with enough punch to discourage boarders. It felt heavy in my hand but I''m glad I have it.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Stardate: 2351.22 The Phoenix is looking a bit different this morning. It¡¯s going to take some time to get all of the new Systems installed. It¡¯s just been me doing all of the work, my hands are sore. The turrets are mounted, and the pistol is now stored securely in the cockpit. I feel a little less like a helpless target now. I wish I could just afford a shield generator. I know it would mean ripping out the upgraded cargo bay and some other components, but the level of protection¡­ It¡¯s a daydream at the moment though, I am all out of credits. Every single one. I can still feel the cold steel of the pistol in my hand, I keep practicing drawing it. It somehow makes me feel safer. Stardate: 2351.23 Worked on the Phoenix all day today, calibrating the new turrets. They pack a serious punch when I tested them - even on the lowest power setting. The Grolak was clearly right about one thing, the things can certainly make a hole. The targeting system took a long time to get used to, It¡¯s still not completely perfect, but it¡¯s good enough to at least make me feel like I can hold my own. I also spent some time running combat simulations, practicing with the pistol in my cockpit. It''s a small space, making sure I don¡¯t have a mishap is essential. Stardate: 2351.24 I decided to get back on with my trading run early today. I need to earn some credits again. The turrets are functional, the sabots are locked and loaded. And my pistol is within easy reach. I¡¯m certainly no soldier, but I feel slightly more confident than I did a few days ago¡­ I think the whole experience has made me re-evaluate somethings. I might need to start being more aware of the dangers out here. Maybe it means not making as much profit, but at least still alive. I have decided to try a route that is much less popular, hopefully it will mean less encounters. Stardate: 2351.25 The route has been pretty quiet the last few days. This must mean something right? I have been checking my sensors every few minutes, just to be sure I haven''t missed anything. The new turret systems give me a sense of security, but the fear is still there. I keep thinking about the pirate ship, and how it felt to be so vulnerable. It makes me wonder how many other ships are out there suffering the same fate if they come across a ship like that. A sad thought. Stardate: 2351.26 The last day of my trip is finally here. I have only one more delivery to make before I can relax. I have earned enough credits to start saving again, which I am happy about. The pirates were probably just as desperate as me, maybe even more so. My ship certainly shows it, every scar and every bruise. Diary Entries (Smuggling) Stardate 2355.43 The void hums. The Phoenix is a familiar armchair now, each creak and groan a language I understand. Hydra and Tanker are trailing behind, dutiful as ever. Another run to Cygnus Minor today, hauling processed agri-waste ¨C thrilling, I know. The haggling with the station master was¡­ energetic, let¡¯s say. It¡¯s always the same dance: they claim a surplus, I claim a need, and we both meet somewhere in the middle with a few less credits than either of us wanted. It¡¯s enough. Barely. Enough to keep the ships running, keep me fed. But I feel like I¡¯m scraping the hull of existence, constantly patching leaks. I hear whispers of the ¡°real¡± money, the fast runs, the goods that aren''t on the manifest. I tell myself I¡¯m being ridiculous. But the whispers are just that¡­ whispers are starting to be louder. Stardate 2355.44 Had a close call today. A patrol frigate from the Rim Authority intercepted us near the Pavo Jump Gate. Routine scan, they said. They were thorough, I¡¯ll give them that. My heart was hammering in my ribcage ¨C not like when I''m negotiating, this was a cold, fear, in the pit of my stomach. They found nothing, of course. "All in order, Captain" the officer said, but his eyes, they lingered, like he expected something he didn''t find. Makes you wonder what they''re really looking for. It¡¯s this constant low-level dread that gnaws at the edges of me when I see them. Its a new dread. It¡¯s an unnerving feeling. The feeling of being watched. Stardate 2355.45 The idea¡¯s been nagging at me ¨C a little worm in my brain, growing bigger with each credit I don''t make. If I could... diversify my cargo, so to speak¡­ A contact on Kepler 186f mentioned ¡°certain opportunities¡± for discreet deliveries. I know its not my kind of thing, but we are talking about the survival of the ships, and myself. It''s just not profitable doing it this way. Time to start research. The plans are old, from my grandfather''s time, the legendary ''Ghost holds''. Hidden compartments, false bulkheads, the whole shebang. Spent the day reviewing the old schematics, adapting them to my ship. It''s a gamble, a big one, but I''m starting to think its a gamble I need to take.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Stardate 2355.46 Started the modifications today. The Phoenix is my home, so its scary taking her apart. I had to remove the bulkheads, build the hidden compartments. The construction is... tedious, especially working alone. The Ghost holds are deeper, narrower, in non-traditional places even I find peculiar. I¡¯ve built two new holds into the keel next to the main engine conduits, and another two above the hydroponics bay, and one behind the forward scanner system. I''ve built in pressure seals for each, just in case. They were ingenious back in the day, hope they still are now. I¡¯m working in the quiet moments between the runs. No one ever suspects that. Its my safety, my secret. I just hope it''s enough. Stardate 2355.47 The contact on Kepler 186f came through. This time, its not processed agri-waste. It¡¯s¡­ volatile. Military-grade synth-stimulants, the kind the corpos use to keep their miners in line on the frontier, or for special forces. Small packages, easy to conceal, but they¡¯re like little suns of illegal credits. The risk is terrifying, but the payoff is... tempting. Took on a small sample, just to see if the holds work. Packed them in vacuum-sealed containers and stashed them in the keel compartments. They¡¯re undetectable to basic sensors. They feel heavy in my ship, like something wrong. Stardate 2355.48 Made the delivery to the designated drop point on the edge of the Alcor system. Quick and quiet, or so I hope. Received twice what I''d usually make on a run on the legal stuff. The credits are burning a hole in my pocket, and yet also a weight in my chest. Even with the high cost of synthetic stims. I feel like I''ve stepped onto a different path now, one with a whole new set of dangers. But I also have a sense of... possibility. I can keep the ships afloat, maybe even start expanding again. I need to be careful, though. The Rim Authority doesn''t take kindly to smugglers. I''m no smuggler, I keep telling myself. I''m simply diversifying. Renovating Hydra and Tanker. Log Entry 1 - Date: Cycle 782.4, Sub-Sector Gamma-9 "It¡¯s been too long since I¡¯ve felt the hum of real work under my fingers, instead of just the soft thrum of the Phoenix¡¯s jump drives. The hydroponics bay feels like a lifetime ago. I''ve been pushing trading runs too hard, chasing the next credit, the next lucrative cargo. It''s time for a break. The Phoenix is a beauty, a fighter through and through, but my cargo and fuel ships are lagging. They''ve got to keep pace, or I might as well be using a space barge. Hydra and Tanker are going under the knife today. New hull modules, reinforced plating¡­ we¡¯re going for speed, not just hauling capacity. Ironic, considering what they usually carry. Time to get out of the trade hub and into the fabrication bay. No more haggling for a few weeks. Just the sound of welders and synth-steel." Log Entry 2 - Date: Cycle 782.7, Sub-Sector Gamma-9 "Started stripping the old hull plating from Hydra this morning. Found some corrosion points I''d have to have taken care of. The automated repair drones are good, but they''re not as good as a human eye. I''m replacing the standard plating with a new composite alloy. It''s lighter and stronger, and the modular panels will make future repairs much easier. I''m also adding a series of micro-thruster placements along the hull, to augment the main drives, I got the blueprints a while back. These will give her a considerable boost in acceleration and maneuverability. Tanker is coming along slower, with all that fuel storage to get around the new placements. Took half the day to work that out. It might not be pretty, but it¡¯ll be effective. I was up all night last night, re-writing the core autopilot routines to handle the new thruster configurations. It''s still not perfect, I''ll have to tweak it a bit more. " Log Entry 3 - Date: Cycle 783.2, Sub-Sector Gamma-9 "The bulk of the hull work is done on Hydra. It looks¡­leaner. Meaner, even. Almost like she''s itching for a race. The new plating is sleek, with those micro-thrusters almost invisible until they fire. I¡¯ve started installing the reinforcement struts along its spine. Tanker is a more difficult beast. All that fuel space, it''s hard to add structural changes. But I''ve managed to reinforce the forward hull and add a set of the micro-thrusters near its engines. It''ll never be as nimble as Hydra, but the new configuration will significantly improve its acceleration. The auto-turrets are also being upgraded. New sensor arrays, faster targeting algorithms, and the lasers are being replaced with Kinetic Flak Cannons. The Laser although precise, their damage was low, and they are generally overwhelmed with too many missiles or fighters. These new cannons will do the trick." Log Entry 4 - Date: Cycle 784.1, Sub-Sector Gamma-9 "The internal systems on Hydra are a headache. Every time I try to improve one thing, I have to reroute another. Spent the whole day running new conduits for the thruster controls and the point-defense grid. The new targeting system for the turrets is a beautiful piece of work. It can track multiple fast targets at once, predict their trajectories, and prioritize them based on threat level. Log Entry 5 - Date: Cycle 785.0, Sub-Sector Gamma-9 "Hydra is almost ready. All systems are go, barring a few minor tweaks to the autopilot. I ran a series of simulated dogfights this morning. She handles like a completely different ship. Quick, agile, and packing a serious punch with those new cannons. Tanker is lagging behind. It just takes longer to work on a ship of this size. I¡¯m adding a few extra self-sealing mechanisms in the fuel tanks. A bit of extra security in case those defensive systems aren''t enough. It''s not something I''m happy about needing to include, but better safe than space debris. The Phoenix, she¡¯s been getting jealous. This work is keeping me away from her. I''ll probably take her out for a spin tomorrow to make it up to her." Log Entry 6 - Date: Cycle 785.4, Sub-Sector Gamma-9 "Did a dry run with both of them today, just around the edge of the system. Hydra was impressive, hitting top speed in seconds. Tanker is not as fast, but it¡¯s a noticeable improvement, and the handling was remarkably better. The point defence on both vessels was spot on, I will need to get out to a practice range to more realistically test them. The autopilot adjustments are still needing some tweaking, but I think with another day''s work, I should have them running smoothly. It''s amazing how much difference these upgrades make. It¡¯s not just the speed, it¡¯s the feel of the ships, they react as I want, like an extension of me. It''s been an exhausting few weeks, but it feels good. Better than any trade run."Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. Log Entry 7 - Date: Cycle 785.8, Sub-Sector Gamma-9 "The work is done. Both Hydra and Tanker are ready for service. The autopilot is refined. The defensive systems are tested. The thrusters scream when engaged, and they look slicker than ever before. It was worth every second in the fabrication bay. I''m calling in a few days off. Just me and the Phoenix, heading to some uncharted sector to kick back. No trading, no cargo, no fuel delivery. Just the cold vacuum of space and the hum of the Phoenix¡¯s drives. But¡­ the real test will be the next big run. Hydra and Tanker might look faster and more heavily armed, but they''ll need to prove themselves in the black." "I''ve decided to leave below the blueprints of the weapons systems for Hydra and Tanker, for my decision making." 1. Kinetic Scatter Cannons ("Flak" Systems): 2. Guided Kinetic Interceptors (Agile Missiles): 3. Multi-Stage Kinetic Slug Throwers (Mass Drivers): 4. "Tungsten Net" Projectors Focus on Specifics for Cargo Ships & Fuel Tankers: Trade Runs Log Entry 1 - Date: 2347.08.12 - Location: Orbiting Xylo Prime Phoenix Log Entry One. Xylo Prime, still as dusty and frustrating as ever. The sensors are picking up heavy port traffic, mostly mining freighters. Good. That means demand. I¡¯ve made a pass, scanned the listings. They¡¯re desperate for refined lithium, just like last cycle. Managed to make a small profit at Proxima station but not much. The Hydra is already on approach, full of the stuff. God bless my renovations, she can haul more than that old bucket her blueprints said. She should be docking now, autopilot handling everything. Now, the haggling starts. Time to put on the charm and convince these rock grinders that even I deserve a decent cut. It''s going to be a long day, but a profitable one, hopefully. Log is signed off, heading down to the trading docks, get me a bottle of that Xylo whiskey, I will need it. Log Entry 2 - Date: 2347.08.15 - Location: Transit to Veridian Belt Phoenix Log Entry Two. Xylo was a slog, but worth it. Played the desperation card well and managed to get 15% over the standard price. Had to endure the local¡¯s incessant drone of mining tales, but that¡¯s the cost of doing business. My next stop is the Veridian Belt. The Hydra is heading there as well, I¡¯ve set her course for a small moon for a scheduled drop off at the local market. I¡¯m taking the Phoenix on the scenic route. I am also carrying extra, unscheduled cargo. A small container, tucked away in a specially shielded compartment. Let¡¯s just say it¡¯s something the Veridians like but the Authority doesn¡¯t. It was handed to me after the whiskey with a wink and a fat wad of credits. Risky, but the profit margin is too good to pass up. The Tanker is behind me on auto-pilot, nothing but good fuel in her tanks, she''s set for a mid route refuel, nothing out of the ordinary, I hope. Log Entry 3 - Date: 2347.08.19 - Location: Veridian Belt Outpost Sigma Phoenix Log Entry Three. Veridian Belt, a chaotic mess of asteroid fields and shady outposts. Made contact with the client at Outpost Sigma, a dingy, lawless place even by belt standards. The sale went smoothly, no questions about the origins of the ¡°rare minerals¡±. They paid in unmarked credits, exactly as agreed. Those credits will go a long way to paying for some of my new upgrades I am planning for the Phoenix.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. I am now heading to Veridian¡¯s main station, I have some legitimate cargo to trade, for now, just to be safe. The Hydra will meet me there to transfer a portion of her payload to the main station. I am going to need to sweet talk the station clerk to get a decent price. Log Entry 4 - Date: 2347.08.22 - Location: Orbiting Veridian Station Prime Phoenix Log Entry Four. The Veridian Station Prime was a hard nut to crack. The local station clerk was a tough negotiator, almost as bad as me, but in the end I managed to make a profit. My upgrades for the Phoenix will need to wait, for now. Got a good price on some medical supplies and some light weaponry, I needed both, and have loaded the Phoenix. The Hydra was in the process of docking as I left and finished loading the refined metals I sold there. I had to sell low just to move product. I am now back into the fringes with the Tanker trailing close behind. Heading back to Xylo Prime. A new station has contacted me asking for some rare minerals. I am now officially on a schedule. I am keeping a close eye on my sensors and making sure every system is running at peak performance, no one gets to intercept the Phoenix. Log Entry 5 - Date: 2347.08.26 - Location: Approaching Xylo Prime Phoenix Log Entry Five. Back to Xylo, another slog. This time though I have my next deal lined up. The new station, Station Kilos, needs rare minerals, the kind from the edges of the belt. Another trip to Sigma is looming. After that I am going to take her into deep space and see what''s out there, I have the fuel for it. The sensors are picking up a different kind of port traffic. Not mining freighters but something more militaristic. Maybe they have found out what I have been up to. The Phoenix is ready if it comes to that, the weapons are armed and charged. Let them try. If it¡¯s a trap I have left some surprises for them. The Hydra is being sent to the scheduled drop off point, the Station will not know she is coming, I hope. Log Entry 6 - Date: 2347.08.28 - Location: Docking at Station Kilos Phoenix Log Entry Six. Docked at Station Kilos. The deal for rare minerals went well, no questions asked. The militaristic ships are still around, though it''s looking less like a trap. I am going to call it a fleet training exercise. I managed to get more than the standard rates for these minerals, the station offered it straight up. After trading, I had a chat with a few of the locals, they all know the same gossip, the Authority is looking for smugglers. Looks like I need to sit low for a bit. Time to head into deep space. I will have the Hydra and Tanker follow me once I get a safe distance. Space Truckers and their Spaceships Okay, here are some diary entries from your space traveler, focusing on their ship, Phoenix, and encounters with other space truckers: Entry 1: Cycle 347, Kepler-186f Orbit It¡¯s hard to believe it¡¯s been so long since I left the hydroponics bay on that research station. Feels like a lifetime ago, adrift in the black, watching the stars swim past. The Phoenix has changed so much since then. She¡¯s more scars than skin now, really. Rebuilt, patched, and pushed far beyond her original specs. I¡¯ve stripped parts from pirate wrecks, haggled over weapon systems in greasy backwater stations, and slowly transformed her into something¡­ else. She¡¯s got two nasty ballistic cannons that could punch through a small moon if I aimed them right. And the Vulcan cannons for point defence? Those are a welcome addition. Armoured plating, thick and heavy, runs along her hull. I couldn''t afford shields though, no one really can, unless you take up a commission, signing away ''freedom. The engines are beasts now, and the sensor suite is sharp enough to spot a space flea from light-years away. Of course, I''ve added a few¡­ ahem¡­ hidden compartments for the occasional bit of smuggling. But despite all the upgrades and combat capabilities, the Phoenix feels more like a cozy home than a tool. It¡¯s strange how attached I¡¯ve become to this hunk of metal. Hydra, my cargo hauler and fuel tanker, hasn''t seen as much attention, poor girl. She''s reliable, but she''s mostly just the workhorse. I really should give her some love. Entry 2: Cycle 352, Trading Post Theta-9 I met up with a trio of space truckers at the trading post today. Ol¡¯ Man Tiberius, a grizzled veteran with a prosthetic arm and a ship called ''The Wanderer'' that looked like a flying junk heap; a young woman named Zara, who piloted a sleek, almost elegant freighter called ''The Seraph''; and a quiet, hulking man who went by ¡°Gorok,¡± whose ship, ¡°The Anvil¡± was a brutish-looking vessel, bristling with engines and weapon mounts. They¡¯d been making the rounds for years, jumping between systems just like I did.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. We spent the better part of the day swapping stories, comparing our ships, and of course, trading a few tales of close calls. I showed them the Phoenix and they gave her a good once-over. Tiberius grunted and pointed out my lack of shields, saying she¡¯d be a sitting duck for anyone with energy weapons. I feel like she was being rhetorical, showing off her wealth. Gorok nodded in agreement with a rumble in his throat, but they both admitted the ballistic cannons were ¡°proper teeth¡±. Zara was clearly impressed with the sensor suite, and also the extra hidden compartments I''d added. That made me laugh. She''d clearly worked plenty of dodgy trades herself. Entry 3: Cycle 352 (Continued) After our initial inspections, the truckers showed off their ships. The Wanderer was an absolute mess, patched together with mismatched plates and salvaged parts. Tiberius told me he liked it that way, said each dent and scratch told a story. He¡¯d turned the interior into a labyrinth of makeshift living spaces and storage. It was surprisingly cozy. Zara''s Seraph felt like a completely different universe. Sterile white panels, soft lighting, and a minimalist design that screamed luxury. She¡¯d sunk a fortune into automation and environmental controls. She kept her living space spotless too. I felt like I¡¯d just walked into a hospital after being in a junkyard. And Gorok¡¯s Anvil¡­well, it was like stepping into the engine room of a dreadnought. Massive engines, thick armour, and a bridge that looked more like a command center. He was clearly more concerned with function than form. He showed me the reinforced bulkheads between the cargo bay and living area. A very sensible addition when dealing with dangerous cargo. Each ship was a reflection of its owner, and it was fascinating to see how we''d all adapted to life in space. I left the trading post with a newfound appreciation for my own battered Phoenix, and a few more things on my list to add or upgrade. The endless cycle of survival and adaptation never ends, does it. But it sure makes life interesting. Hull Modification and Trading Diary Entry 1 (Gaelan Nebula) Stardust and static, that''s the view from my viewport today. I¡¯ve been crawling along at half-thruster for what feels like an age. Gaelan''s a backwater, but it''s a necessary stop. The fuel cells are sucking fumes and the rations are starting to resemble the ship''s cleaning fluid in hue. Found a signal, though. A small, independent station orbiting a dead moon ¨C the Rust Bucket. Let¡¯s hope they have what I need and aren¡¯t trying to squeeze the last cred out of a desperate traveler like me. I¡¯ve been practicing my haggling tone; the one that says ¡°I¡¯m poor, but I¡¯ll bite if you try to gouge me.¡± Wish me luck. It''s been a long trip. Diary Entry 2 (Rust Bucket Station) Rust Bucket lived up to its name. A clanging, cobbled-together mess of salvaged metal and flickering neon. The station was swarming with folks like me, all with that desperate gleam in their eyes. Surprisingly friendly, though, in a "we''re all in this scrap heap together" kind of way. Managed to secure some decent fuel cells ¨C the Krellonite type, thank the stars. Cost me two weeks'' worth of dehydrated algae, but it was worth it. What was not worth it was the price of protein paste. Gaelan, it seems, is suffering a protein shortage. Rumor is a plague wiped out the nutrient farms on the outer colonies. They¡¯re selling what looks like brown, vaguely meaty slop at exorbitant prices. I passed. Better to stick to my algae and start cultivating my own protein in the hydroponics bay. I saw some interesting ship modifications advertised in the mess hall too. Armor plating, a new kind of engine dampener, and some dodgy looking ECM package. Tempting. Diary Entry 3 (Leaving Gaelan Nebula) The Phoenix feels...lighter. No, not lighter. Sturdier. That might have been the best decision I''ve made in a while. I spent my last spare credits installing the insulated engine dampeners on the Phoenix. They said it would improve fuel efficiency, but I''m already seeing the difference. Less turbulence, less strain on the engines. It will also give engines more durability if hit by a missile. Furthermore, the sensor rating his halved, for trade under the radar. I still can''t afford the armor plating or the ECM package. Maybe next stop. I¡¯ve decided it¡¯s time to head towards the Seraphim Cluster. Heard they deal in high-end tech. The downside is the "high-end" comes with "high-end" price. I hope I can make some profitable hauls before the money runs out. Maybe I can find some old tech to scavenge and sell.Stolen novel; please report. Diary Entry 4 (Approaching the Seraphim Cluster) The Seraphim, as advertised, is indeed a jewel box in the void. Glittering stations, sleek transport vessels, even the debris fields look expensive. I''m circling a smaller, independent dock. The main hubs are out of my price range. This one is called The Tinker''s Yard. The advertisements promised modifications of all kinds. I even saw one claiming "Hyperdrive optimization: faster jumps, less fuel!" That sounds too good to be true; I have to go and take a look. Fuel is stable, enough dehydrated algae to last another week, and I managed to cultivate a small batch of protein fungus in the hydroponics bay, so I¡¯m doing a little better. It''s time to see what this station has to offer. Diary Entry 5 (The Tinker''s Yard) The Tinker''s Yard was a sensory overload. The sights, the sounds, the smell of welding and ozone... I was like a starving man in a bakery. They had everything: I spent hours just browsing, mostly making faces at the prices. I did find a slightly used maneuvering thruster that should boost my handling in asteroid fields and a couple of reinforced shielding panels. Not as good as the full plating, but better than nothing. The dealer told me the shield panels were removed from a ship that was hit by a small missile when the ECM package had a malfunction. The warning was noted, but the price was too good to pass by. It seems like a few of these sellers are taking advantage of the shortages in other regions while selling less than desirable products, but it''s the only option I have. Diary Entry 6 The Pgoenix feels more responsive, more...mine. I still have a long journey ahead and I may need to find a way to make more money in this area. Maybe some of the wealthier stations in the Seraphim will require the minerals I can harvest from minor planets. It¡¯s a long shot, but at least I¡¯ll be doing something. I may even invest in a mining laser, if I can find a cheap one. Time to move on. The stars are waiting. War and profits Entry 1 - Hesitation and Calculations The comm-channels are buzzing like a disturbed hive. That damn Alcor-Cygnus conflict finally boiled over. Two factions, the ¡°United Alcor Concord¡± and the ¡°Cygnus Free Coalition,¡± going at it like enraged space-bears. Forty top-of-the-line dreadnoughts is what the Concord boasts, while the Coalition throws hundreds of smaller, faster ships into the fray. Idiotic, frankly, but it¡¯s making waves across the whole of the sector. Normally, a war like this would have my fingers twitching. Excess stations, resource dumps, the kind of quick-profit opportunities that build fortunes. Buy low while they''re emptying their pockets for the war effort, sell high when the fighting inevitably grinds to a halt. But¡­ these aren¡¯t skirmishes. These are full-scale fleet actions. The kind where you get caught in crossfire and your freighter ends up as so much cosmic debris. Frankly, I¡¯m not feeling the risk appetite right now. I¡¯ve been building a nice little cushion of credits, and that''s more important to me than taking a shot at instant riches. Let the vultures pick at the scraps for now. I''ll bide my time watching the markets. For now, I''ll stick to known routes and safe cargo runs. Entry 2 - The Siren Call of Profit Damn it. Damn it all to the black. I tried to stay away, I really did. I kept on chugging along on the trade routes, but the numbers... they''re impossible to ignore. The reports streaming out of the Cygnus system are insane. The domestic goods market is completely shattered. Pre-conflict, basic supply boxes were going for 50 credits, now they''re over 200! Two hundred credits for a box of nutrient paste, medicine packets, and damn plumbing parts! I must have moved over a couple of thousand of them this cycle, mostly along secure routes.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. The people down there are desperate. The Coalition must be cutting off supply lines, or diverting everything into their war effort. Either way, the need is real, and the supply is non-existent. It''s¡­ a moral quandary, I admit. I¡¯m profiting from other people''s pain, but at the same time, they need what I''m selling, badly. It''s too much, too good an opportunity to pass up. I crunched the numbers again at least a dozen times. I can realistically ship at least a few thousand of these boxes straight to Cygnus with their population at any station and make a killing. I went ahead and took out a line of credit. I bought another freighter, a battered but reliable "Stork" class. She needed some work, but I can¡¯t wait to get started. I went all in on insulating the engines, the best passive dampeners I could afford. Should give me a much smaller profile on scanners. It''s risky, yes. But this could set me up for life. I''m going in. Entry 3 - Sweet, Bitter Reward I''ve never seen such a mess. The jump point into the Cygnus system was a chaotic mess, with transports, refugees, and even a few battle scuffles in the distance. My ships all worked well. The insulated engines seemed to work a treat. A few near misses with patrolling Coalition ships but they never saw my vessels coming. I managed to steer clear of any major conflicts, navigated the debris fields, and got to the pre-arranged trading stations. They didn''t haggle for a second. They bought everything I had, everything, at my price. The holds were empty by the last jump to the third station. I made a killing. It''s sickening the amount of credits I made. I¡¯m talking about a total turnaround of more than 1200%, including all the expenses involved. I''m not sure I can even believe the number. Every credit went back into my account within a space of maybe 12 hours. Now, the question is - what to do with it? I could finally afford those hull modifications I''ve been eyeing, ECM package; transmission jammers, flares, an integrated targeting, you name it. I could even get a shield generator! Only one mind you, but Phoenix would be invulnerable practically, as long its flux doesn''t go over. I could also pick up a six to eight frigates as nimble escorts. So many choices. Credits Spent like Water Diary Entry 1 The damn war credits feel like they''re burning a hole in my pocket, even digitally. Spent the last few cycles haggling, arguing, and downright threatening (a little) to get my five frigates. Five! They''re not gleaming warships, mind you, more like angry wasps with a bit of rust, but they''re mine. Each chugs and groans like it¡¯s got a bad case of space-cough, but they can fight. Light machine guns ¨C gotta have those for shielded bastards ¨C and missiles. Sweet, beautiful missiles for everything else. I¡¯ve named them, of course. Couldn''t just call them "Frigate One" through five. There''s "Sting", "Bite", "Claw", and "Rip" ¨C my little escorts, they''ll be fierce. Then there''s "Fang," the fifth. She''ll guard the rear. She''ll be last line of defense. "Hydra" ¨C my main cargo ship, a real workhorse, and "The Mule" my smaller cargo ship. She¡¯ll be doing the short runs. No pretty paint job ¨C only function matters. And "Tanker" ¨C the unsung hero, full of the black gold that keeps this whole show going. Their point defense systems are¡­adequate. They¡¯ll keep the worst of it off, but that¡¯s where my frigates come in. Two frigates for me. Sting and Claw. They¡¯ll peel off anyone getting too close to my engine block while I concentrate on the front. This is going to work. I can feel it.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Diary Entry 2 Today¡¯s agenda: the black market. Time to dredge up some shadows for a shield generator. Not a fancy military grade one, of course. Those are locked down tighter than a vault on Titan. No, I''m looking for something... cobbled together. Something that will kick on if I find myself suddenly on the wrong end of a pirate ambush or a territorial squabble between traders. Just enough to give me time to get the heck out of dodge. I¡¯ve heard rumors of a tech-priest who tinkers with salvaged components out near the Rim. Hopefully, he''s not asking for an arm and a leg or I''m walking out. I actually enjoyed the haggle. Not because of the price, but to see how much I can get for less. These guys are worse than the war council when it comes to haggling. But I got it, not pretty, but it works. And that¡¯s what matters. Diary Entry 4 - Cycle 78, Day 23 Tested the shield generator today. It¡¯s a patchwork Frankenstein¡¯s monster, but it held against a few short bursts from Sting and Bite. It¡¯s not going to stand against sustained fire, but it did give me a window to power up the engines. It¡¯ll do. Right now I¡¯m loading up fuel on Tanker. She is going to be my bread and butter for the foreseeable future. I''ll be making a run to the outer colonies soon. The demand was high, and the credit is good. Just have to keep my little fleet running smooth and fast. I¡¯m no longer a soldier. I¡¯m a damn space trucker. And I¡¯m damn good at it. Haggling. Missiles. Crew. Stardate The comms crackled like a dying fire, but the message came through clear enough: "The Zyl Consortium refuses to budge on their price for the tri-lithium ore. Says they''ve had offers from the Kepler jump-runners too. Damn them." I leaned back in my chair, the synthetic leather groaning under my weight, and rubbed my tired eyes. The ''Phoenix'' hummed softly around me, a familiar lullaby in the black vastness. Zyl... they¡¯re always playing hardball. Last time they tried to slip in substandard alloys. I''d almost blown that entire cargo of bio-luminescent fungi on the spot. This trip was supposed to be easy, restock on ore, sell off the last of the chronium plating, back to the outer rim. But it never is, is it? I need that ore, or the ''Hydra'' and ''Mule'' are just going to be big, empty boxes drifting through the void. I instructed the comms officer to send back a counter-offer, a little more aggressive this time. If they think a few jump-runners are going to get them a better deal they are mistaken, I have teeth, I have assets. Stardate 237.4.15 Success, of a sort. The Zyls finally agreed to my terms, though I had to throw in a handful of rare-earth magnifiers. Their eyes are bigger than their guts, apparently. The ''Hydra'' and ''Mule'' are finally filling up. I¡¯ll keep a hawk''s eye on the shipment this time, though. The real stress is the other situation. I¡¯ve been negotiating with the Norvikans for days, haggling over the last batch of missiles for the frigates. The ¡®Sting¡¯, ¡®Fang¡¯, ¡®Bite¡¯, ¡®Claw¡¯, and ¡®Rip¡¯ need that extra punch. The Norvikans, always the pragmatists, know I need them. They''re holding out. They know the ¡®swarmers¡¯ are good for attrition, the kind of endless harassment you throw at a target, but they won¡¯t break through heavy armour. The ¡®salamanders¡¯ are brilliant ¨C those fast-tracking engines make them impossible to shake off, but their reload rate is torture. You absolutely can''t rely on them alone. You need both. I spent most of the ¡®night¡¯ staring at the tactical display, running simulations. I can''t be caught out here without a full arsenal. This whole damn sector is a tinderbox.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. Stardate The Norvikans are playing another game; they are claiming that the missiles are delayed in production - that my order is low on their priority, that they have more important clients with a larger trade volume. They know that¡¯s bull. They just want a better price for them. I hate this; these people are worse than the Zyls. There is no honour. It makes me wonder why I still haggle of these small missiles, after my huge haul I made trading supplies and domestic goods. However, its in my blood to not pay more than I need to. I know the prices. I sent a strongly worded threat; that I will take my trade elsewhere if the price does not settle at the price i offered. That I could be taking a tanker load of fuel to their adversaries instead, and that my next stop is by a jump point that has a direct trading route to the rival Norvik faction. I let it stew. I spent some time this ¡®morning¡¯ going over the ¡®Tanker¡¯ and its fuel stores. I don¡¯t trust anyone. If the Norvikans push me too hard I¡¯ll simply leave. And this area is full of other groups desperate for my credits and what i carry. I am not without recourse. Stardate The Norvikans caved. Just in time, I was beginning to wonder if I should make good on my threat to fuel one of their rivals. The missiles are aboard the frigates now. Stardate: The autopilot on my frigates keeps them pointing the right direction, I''ll give them that. But watching them on the tactical feed - they''re just... there. They don¡¯t react to the subtle shifts in enemy fire patterns, they don''t anticipate the weaknesses in formations. The Sting could be flying like a predator, but she''s just... following a pre-programmed route. I''ve been thinking about hiring officers. Pilots. Real, breathing crew who can dance with the stars. It¡¯s a risk, I know. Trusting anyone out here is like trusting a viper not to bite. But imagine Fang weaving through a blockade, Bite ambushing a cruiser, Claw and Rip raining fire on enemy formations. They aren''t just ships, they are lethal extensions of my will. And with good pilots, they would be so much more effective. They could turn those frigates into true killing machines. The cost would be significant, of course. It might eat into the profits, but better targetting is worth the cost. I wouldn''t have to be there myself, personally commanding every ship. It would make me a more effective trader, let me focus on the bigger picture. It would be another step into becoming something more than the guy who got lucky. I need a drink. Maybe two. And I need to make some calls. Let¡¯s see who''s looking to dance with the void. It may be time to finally form a proper crew. Pilots Okay, here are some diary entries from the perspective of your sci-fi protagonist, focusing on the themes and elements you''ve provided: Stardate: 2378.11.05 The hum of the Phoenix is a familiar lullaby. It''s the sound of my freedom, the whisper of the vastness I command. Today, I¡¯m back to the drudgery ¨C sifting through endless pilot applications. "Hotshot" McAllister, with his boasts of dodging asteroids blindfolded; "Steady" Sarah Jenkin, whose experience seems¡­ steady. And then there''s young Kai, fresh out of the academy, eyes wide with a hunger for the stars that reminds me of my younger self. I''ve listed some samples in my datapad. Samples of Potential Pilots: The Sting, Fang, Bite, Claw, and Rip need pilots. Good ones. Ones who can handle the adrenaline rush of a close-range frigate skirmish, who won''t flinch when the swarmer missiles are unleashed, chewing through the enemy''s armour. I need them disciplined, but not so rigid they can''t think on their feet. Each of my frigates are my children. I want to protect them at all cost. I will. Stardate: 2378.11.07 I found myself haggling again with the merchant over the price of a new batch of volatile fuel. It¡¯s¡­ ridiculous. My accounts run to more zeroes than I can comfortably count. I could pay double, triple, and not even notice the dent. Yet, I¡¯m there, pushing and pulling, trying to scrape off the last percentage point. Why is this? Does space survival make us like this?This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. it is a fear of the war I have seen, an emergency fund per say? Maybe its not the deal itself, but the principle. I see some of it in my dealings with the pilots. Each is a variable that has a cost. I need to make sure it is worth the cost in the end. The merchant doesn''t care about my ship, but I do. I need to make sure I am not undercutting my profits in the long run. Stardate: 2378.11.10 The Hydra and Mule are back from their run, the Tanker docked alongside, refueling them. I watched the cargo drones unload the precious resources, and thought. I''ve built this¡­ this small empire, from the ground up. I could easily retire to some backwater planet, live out my days in quiet comfort, surrounded by endless luxuries. Yet the thought tastes like ash in my mouth. The slow, predictable life¡­ it¡¯s a death sentence for the soul. The vastness of space doesn''t permit stasis. When out there, you are either swimming or sinking. You have to adapt, to push against the crushing pressure of the void. If I stop, If I think I have enough, then i will stagnate. And if I stagnate¡­ well then the others will come for me. The brutal beauty of it all ¨C that''s why I keep pushing. I¡¯ll review those pilot applications again tonight. Kai, I think, has the fire in his eyes. I need to make him useful. I will. Stardate: 2378.11.15 Had a training simulation with one of the new pilots, ¡°Viper.¡± Turns out he¡¯s as precise as they say, but damn¡­ He needs to learn teamwork. The swarmer missiles are a dance, a flurry of destruction that requires coordination. You can''t just charge in guns blazing, or the enemy frigates will pick you apart. The salamanders¡­ well those are for the big boys. For now, the pilots need to master a swarm. We will make him a teammate. He will learn. I think I¡¯ll need to create some scenarios for them. Each ship needs to work together. So they develop some muscle memory. I can hear the Phoenix humming and the engines revving. I might seem cruel, but the space world isn''t a kind one. They will thank me in the end. I hope they will. They probably wont. It is survival of the fittest out here and if they want to fly under my flag they need to embrace that fact. Note: I tried to incorporate the specific elements you mentioned ¨C the ships, the weapons, the pilot hiring, and the internal struggle with wealth versus the need to ''keep swimming.'' I also hinted at some of the dangers and realities of the protagonist''s world. Recruitment and Strange Ai Cores Stardate: 784.22.17 (Standard Galactic Cycle) The Phoenix is purring like a contented predator. Restless, though. I can feel it in my bones, the itch to push further, to conquer new routes. The Hydra and Mule are docked, bellies full of recently acquired¡­ oddities. My usual mix of processed metals, rare minerals, a few crates of sentient fungal blooms, and of course, those damn AI cores. Those cores¡­ they stink of trouble. I bought them cheap, practically scrap, from a backwater asteroid station. But the big factions are paying top credit for them. They don¡¯t ask questions, of course. They just want them. It¡¯s almost laughable. They pay for the potential of what these ancient things can do. I¡¯ll take their credits, thank you very much. Reputation is currency, and they think I''m some kind of fence for lost technologies, good. Let them think what they will. Kai and Viper are¡­ green. Star One pilots, fresh out of the academy, brimming with optimism and atrocious teamwork. They requested to join my crew, naive fools. I¡¯ve put them in the Sting for their first month, that old warhorse needs to be shaken up. I don¡¯t usually hire so inexperienced, but they were willing to work for pennies and their dedication is...interesting. We''ll see if they make it. I¡¯ve set them the task of swarm training. Pushing the frigates to their limits. The fuel from the Tanker is plentiful. The systems do the majority of the work anyway. I need those two to anticipate each other, to move in unison, like a well-oiled machine. It''s a painful process. Today, I watched them stumble through a salamander run. They nearly collided three times. They need to learn.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! Frankly, I could be using that time for trade, but sometimes it¡¯s worth investing in potential. Like the AI cores. Stardate: 784.22.25 (Standard Galactic Cycle) The bargaining is going smoothly. As usual. I got a decent price for the fungal blooms. Traded them to a research consortium for some high-grade shielding. I am not sure what they plan on doing with the flora, but it is their problem. The AI cores went to the usual suspects. The Crimson Hegemony, the Outer Rim Cartel, and the enigmatic Technocracy. They all want them, all for different reasons. I don''t give a damn. Credits are credits. Pilot Training and Pirate Scuffle Okay, here are seven diary entries, capturing the thoughts and experiences of your spacefaring captain: Entry 1: A New Crew Date: Cycle 237, Day 12 The airlock hiss was the only sound as Kai and Viper stepped onto the Phoenix. Fresh out of the Academy, bright-eyed, and¡­green as space algae. Their uniforms practically gleamed, a stark contrast to the weathered consoles and countless battle scars that adorn my ship. Honestly, they looked like they¡¯d rather be anywhere else. I¡¯ve hired them on for a pittance, just to see if they can be molded into something useable. They''re star-one pilots, barely qualified to haul cargo, but their skill set is promising, even though their minds seem brittle. They need spine. I''ve given them a month¡¯s probation. A single month to turn from academy recruits into hardened pilots. They need to understand the real world beyond simulations. Entry 2: Trial by Fire Date: Cycle 237, Day 17 I ran them through some of my old pirate engagement recordings last night. The looks on their faces were priceless. Eyes wide, mouths agape. They¡¯d clearly pegged me as just another merchant, shuffling goods from station to station. They couldn¡¯t reconcile the trader with what they saw on the screen: My Phoenix brawling with another Pirate ship. A battle class pirate ship dubbed the "eradicator". manuvering to its side, and then to its engines, due to my engine speed beign superior. The Eradicator had superior armour and firepower, but mostly just for a single straight direction. Its frigates were reckless, thinking me easy prey. They were taken out early. If they hadn''t it be a different story. I saw a glint of admiration from them, but more importantly, the realization that the universe was not as docile as their simulations suggested. Good, let the fear make them sharper. It was a good reminder not to judge books by their cover, or ships by their paint job. Every one of us has a hidden thorn. Entry 3: Growing Pains Date: Cycle 237, Day 22 They''re sponges, soaking up everything they can. I¡¯ve been walking them through targeting systems, energy management, and evasive maneuvers. Kai is a natural with the stick; his instincts are quick and precise. Viper is better with theory, able to identify patterns and weaknesses even in the simulated scenarios. I''ve noticed that they¡¯re starting to find chinks in the armor of the sim software, exploiting programming loopholes I didn''t even know existed. They¡¯re still too timid. Still hesitant. They need to learn to trust their own instincts. Today I showed the two how to disengage a ship with out an engagement, by using a single shot. I noticed both of them understood my theory, but neither could pull of the technique. I will need to work on them slowly.This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. Entry 4: A Necessary Weakness Date: Cycle 237, Day 26 The simulations showed us a glaring flaw. Kai and Viper tend to freeze under pressure. When the odds stacked up against them in a simulation, they simply locked up. Their training took over, and they became completely rigid. They need to learn to be more flexible, more adaptable. If they can''t adjust, they will get themselves killed out there. It¡¯s a common failing of academy graduates, they learn the moves, but not the mindset. It''s frustrating, but I also know that their inherent talents are there. They just need to learn how to use them without getting paralyzed by fear. I¡¯ll have to work with them on that. I ran them through the simulations again for 6 hours. Entry 5: The Trade Run Date: Cycle 238, Day 2 I¡¯ve spent the last of my credits on a massive shipment of Xylium Dust. The price is low now, but I know the demand will skyrocket in a few cycles. It¡¯s a risky gamble, but the potential profit is too good to pass up. It will likely be a long haul. The Hydra and Mule are being prepped, and the Tanker is gassed up. All the frigates are ready to go as well. I¡¯ve assigned Kai and Viper to the Sting and Fang. I''ll be keeping an eye on them during the run, but I''ll also be giving them some space. It''s time for them to test their wings under real conditions, out in the black. I will be running the Claw as my personal vessel for this trip. Entry 6: Lessons on the Edge Date: Cycle 238, Day 6 The jump was smooth, the navigation simple. Until we encountered an¡­unwelcome ¡°greeting¡±. A small group of pirates. Three of them. They were sloppy, desperate. I let Kai and Viper handle it. I stayed in the shadows in Phoenix. They did okay. They were hesitant, but they pulled through. Kai was a little too aggressive, and Viper was a little too cautious, but they¡¯re learning. I saw them work as a team. It was a messy engagement, but a victory nonetheless. They understood the difference between theory and reality, between simulations and the unforgiving void. Good. This trip is already paying them dividends, way more than their wages. Entry 7: Potential Date: Cycle 238, Day 11 We¡¯re hauling our Xylium Dust to our first drop. The two star-one pilots are no longer the same scared, a wide-eyed academy girl and guy that stepped onto my ship just over a month ago. They have proven they can adapt. They have proven they can fight. They still have far to go, but the potential is there. If they can truly harness their talents, frigates would be a complete waste of their skills. I am thinking of something better for them, something more formidable. For now, they are where they need to be. I have decided to keep them on, and they will have a pay increase from the next trip. New Pilots. Diary Entry 1: The Routine Grind Another cycle, another jump. The Phoenix hums beneath my boots, a familiar vibration that¡¯s become the background music of my life. The Hydra and Mule, always dependable, are latched on like overgrown barnacles, their holds brimming with processed ore. Tanker, bless its heart, is the ever-present fuel hound, keeping us all topped off. The vast emptiness outside the viewport feels both comforting and suffocating. I suppose that''s the dichotomy of deep space. I spent the morning reviewing cargo manifests. Tedious, but necessary. Then came the comms check-in with Viper and Kai on Sting and Fang. They were practically buzzing to recount their little pirate scuffle. Good for them. Fresh blood needs a taste of action. Glad I spent a little extra on that training module. They¡¯ve gone from trembling rookies to¡­ well, slightly less trembling rookies. At least they hit something. The frigates remain on autopilot escort duty. A waste of good firepower, I know, but they¡¯re insurance. Peace of mind comes at a price, and I can afford the pilots to watch the stars and twiddle their thumbs. Tomorrow, we¡¯ll reach the extraction point. Time to unload and do it all over again. The Hydra and Mule are loaded with ore and processed metals. Heading to the Hegemony next; they''ve been paying top credit for alloys recently. The Tanker is topped off and ready. Entry 2 - Rixian Orbital Marketplace Haggling here is always a pain. Tried to offload some processed fuel I had, they kept pushing for lower prices, claiming they had multiple offers from other prospectors. I held firm and eventually got my price. A little extra in my coffers is always useful. Those Rixians think they''re clever, but I''ve been doing this far longer.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. I¡¯ve been looking over three potential pilot candidates for Bite, Claw, and Rip. Found some profiles online. I''ll have to make a selection soon. I need them in the coming weeks once we enter the nebula region. Entry 3 - En Route to the Hegemony I¡¯ve settled on Jara, Zane and Lyra for the frigates. Jara has the experience, Zane will fit the autopilot role perfectly, and Lyra might shake things up. I don''t expect them to excel in the escort role, but their presence is an insurance policy. I have the credits for pilots, and having armed ships around is a practical measure. Viper and Kai have developed quite the reputation. The new recruits were certainly impressed, almost reverent actually. It must be nice to be the local heroes, but I do not expect them to get complacent. The pilots can talk about their ¡°heroic acts¡± later, right now I must focus on my trade routes and my credits. Is the Paste Edible? Entry 1 - Sector Gamma-9 Woke to the usual hum of the Phoenix, the old girl complaining about another day. Breakfast was nutrient paste, flavor ''mystery meat''. I swear they just recycle yesterday''s leftovers. Washed it down with synth-coffee, bitter enough to strip paint. Need to find some real grounds soon, but those are a luxury these days. Checked the manifest ¨C the Mules are loaded with processed plasteel from Xylo and the Hydra is carrying a volatile mix of oxygen isotopes heading for the outer rim. The frigates, Sting, Claw, Rip, Bite, Tear, are buzzing around us like gnats, their pilots probably complaining about boredom. Poor sods. At least they have the salamander missiles if anyone gets too froggy, and the swarmer missiles will shred any unshielded pirate scum. The Fang cannons on the Phoenix are ready for anything more heavy-duty though if I need them. Spent most of the cycle negotiating trade routes with some gruff merchant at ComRel. Trying to squeeze every credit out of these deals. I hate haggling, but it pays the bills. Tonight, it''s more nutrient paste, I suppose. Maybe if I¡¯m lucky, I''ll get a chance to listen to some old Earth blues before hitting my bunk. The Phoenix''s old memory banks are a mess of data, music and movies, but they have moments of gold. Sleep cycle will be around 6, need to be up early to plot a course into the nebula. Risky, but the price is worth it. Entry 2 - Navigating the Corvus Nebula The nebula is gorgeous, like swirling paint, but a pain to navigate. The comms are choppy, which makes trading a nightmare. The Hydra¡¯s oxygen load was playing up and the onboard monitoring system went crazy. Had to send a tech over to sort out something he called ¡®phase interference¡¯ ¨C I mostly just nod and pay. The price of having a volatile load. Lunch was more paste, this time ¡®chicken¡¯ flavored, which is no better. I did manage to get my hands on a ration of real spices - smuggled them in from a moon colony known for its exotic flora. I took a pinch of the ¡®solar flame¡¯ and sprinkled a little over the paste. Still tastes like recycled cardboard, but at least it has character now. Need to ration these.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. The frigates reported some minor sensor glitches - probably just space debris. They¡¯re getting antsy; the Wraith pilot keeps doing barrel rolls in circles for fun. I let them blow off steam, as long as they don''t use the missiles. I keep a close eye on the scans and the Fangs on the Phoenix are ready for business if needed. Managed to offload the Xylo plasteel at a decent price at a nearby spacestation. Time to negotiate a buy in the next system which will put the Mules to good use. Dinner was the usual - synth coffee and paste. Tonight will see a longer sleep cycle as I pushed through the nebula. 8 is the goal. I¡¯m looking forward to it. Entry 3 - Port Meridian Arrived at Port Meridian and the place is a hive of activity. Got the oxygen isotopes off the Hydra, thankfully no hiccups. The place is riddled with black market vendors, and those ''spices'' I bought are burning a hole in my pocket, I might find someone to sell them too and make a small fortune. Breakfast was a splurge - some hardtack biscuits and dried fruit I bought off a vendor. Tasted like heaven. Picked up some less than legal cargo for the trip back. A few crates of ''reclaimed electronics'', or so they say. I don''t ask too many questions, keeps my hands clean. The black market generator on the Phoenix is a perfect cover for a little extra voltage leakage if the authorities try to get too close. The frigates are getting a refuel, and some minor repairs. Ordered the pilots to dock and rest after the last few routes. I even saw them relaxing with some of the station¡¯s watered down ¡®ale¡¯ at the cantina. They deserve something after doing nothing. It''s a tough life even if it seems easy. Dinner was another flavor of paste so I decided to have a few biscuits and more of the dried fruit. I also started to plan my next few routes. I think it will be best to head out of the sector and see what other opportunities await. Sleep schedule will be 7 tonight. I''m aiming for a less complicated run to the next system. Entry 4 - Approaching the Edge The run went smooth, we are near the edge of known space. The Phoenix is purring like a happy cat, the generator is humming along and the crew are all relaxed after some downtime. The Frigates even did a mock battle exercise to keep them at the ready. Breakfast was simple- paste and synth coffee. I¡¯ve found a good way to ration the spices- every few cycles I add a small amount to the paste. It makes it almost enjoyable. I spent a few hours checking the old charts, looking at possible jump points and opportunities to trade. I think I might try to move some high end medical supplies. There is a system with a high demand for them in the next sector according to my data. Lunch was the same paste and I had a few more biscuits. I try to keep them for a treat or during long routes. The cargo is all secure so I¡¯m not too worried. The frigates are at the ready and the Fangs on the Phoenix are prepared incase we get ambushed. Dinner tonight will be paste and synth coffee as always. Medical Supply Run Stardate: 3478.2 (Cycle 12, Day 1) The synthesized sun finally creaks up over the artificial horizon of Deep Space Station Sigma-7. Makes my bones ache just staring at it. Guess it''s time to get the circuits humming. Recycled protein paste for "breakfast" again. Tastes like sawdust mixed with old socks, but it fuels the engine. Washes down the taste with some synth-coffee, which to its credit, is at least hot. Check the comms ¨C no nasty surprises, thankfully. The Phoenix is looking good on the monitors. She''s more than just a ship now; she''s practically a part of me. Spent too long sweating over her refit to think of her any other way. A medium-class bruiser is putting it mildly; she could take on some cruisers if needed. The Mule and Hydra, my cargo workhorses, are docked and ready. Sting, Fang, Claw, Tear, and Bite, the light frigates, are fueled and prepped. We''re a proper little fleet now, even if they¡¯re a little beat up. Makes me feel like a damn space admiral, even though I''m mostly just a glorified delivery boy. Today''s the day. The market reports I scanned say the medical colonies in the Outer Rim are crying out for high-end supplies. Expensive stuff, the kind that keeps people alive after a run-in with a Void Lurker or a rogue AI. I¡¯ve bought a haul. Got my hands on a stock of bio-regenerative injectors, synth-skin grafts, and a few neural repair kits. The risk is high, but the potential profit is juicy. I just need to navigate a couple of dodgy sectors and outpace any pirates who think they can shake us down. I set the course and give the order, "All ships engage." Time to make a profit. Stardate: 3478.4 (Cycle 12, Day 2) Long, monotonous jump through hyperspace. I hate the way it makes my gut feel like it¡¯s being twisted into a pretzel. Spent most of the day fiddling with the Phoenix¡¯s jump drive. Always something to tweak. The others kept themselves busy doing maintenance and playing cards over the comms. Occasionally they¡¯ll start singing old Earth songs, mostly off key. Had another round of protein paste for ¡®lunch¡¯ and ¡®dinner¡¯. I swear, if I have one more bite of that stuff I''m going to start growing a second head. Pried open a can of synth-fruit for a treat. Its still not fresh, but it''s sweet enough. Checked the fleet - all systems green. The comm chatter is keeping me from nodding off. Sometimes I think the only things keeping me awake are the caffeine, and the constant fear of space pirates. Set course for the first waypoint. Stardate: 3478.6 (Cycle 12, Day 3) Made it to the Kuiper Belt without incident. The Phoenix handled the jump with grace, thankfully no hiccups at all. Landed on the outer rim station of "Elysium" on the edge of the belt. A real hive of scum and villainy, but there''s always a profit here if you know where to look. Found my contact, a surly-looking medical broker named Kael. He had a face like a chipped asteroid and the personality to match.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. The negotiation was tense. He tried to lowball me, of course, playing the "we''re-in-the-middle-of-nowhere-you¡¯re-desperate" card. I countered, throwing out the numbers I had in my head, citing the scarcity of the supplies. He¡¯d heard of the demand, but was playing coy. We went back and forth for what felt like an eternity. I finally settled for a price slightly below what I¡¯d hoped, but still good enough to make the trip worthwhile. ¡°Fair enough¡± said the broker who then pulled out another data pad. ¡°I hadn¡¯t imagined they were these type. The colony has a different need now¡±. I could immediately see where this was heading. My contact was stalling. ¡°So I can only offer this price now" he said, the new figure was even worse than his initial offer. He underestimated me. I held my ground, explaining that my supplies were the top of the line. I pointed out that I could just head to the next system, where, according to my research, there are three different settlements who are also desperate for supplies. He eventually caved, grumbling about having to deal with someone who knows the value of his own wares. Signed the contract, transferred the credits. The cargo is being offloaded and scanned now, the Mule and Hydra are getting another load which will be used for the next trip. Time to rest, I am exhausted. I had some food, which was better than the recycled paste. I think I¡¯ll treat myself to a few drinks at the station bar. Stardate: 3478.7 (Cycle 12, Day 4) Woke up this morning with a space hangover. Elysium¡¯s local brew packs a punch. Decided to take the morning off, and let the crew do the final checks on the cargo ships. I had some synth eggs and juice, followed by some caffeine to help clear my head. After the cargo ships were loaded, I ordered them to stay docked, while the frigates came to a stop, the Phoenix was ready to go. I told them we were heading to the next system, and would have a rest stop. Got into my pilot seat and set course. Stardate: 3478.8 (Cycle 12, Day 5) Arrived at the next system, a mining colony. The Hydra and Mule already docked up at one of the platforms. As soon as I stepped out I could see people were eager to get access to the supplies. I was met by one of the colony leaders, and went through similar negotiations. After a little back and forth, they agreed to a fair price. I decided to stay over night and have some proper food, rather than paste. They had some local cuisine, which was unique, but tasty. The next day, after the transaction, we undocked and prepared to head back. We still had the station we started in to return to. Stardate: 3478.9 (Cycle 12, Day 6) The last leg of the journey. We should be landing back in base soon. I have some extra credits, which will be used for repairs and fuel. The journey was long, but worth it. The Phoenix is purring like a well fed cat. I think I¡¯ll try and get some extra maintenance done on my ship. The last few jumps have taken their toll. I check the crew¡¯s logs, and each one is clear, so all are ready for the next adventure. Renovating - ECM Package and Transmission Jammer Entry 1 The welding torch feels good in my hand. It''s been too long since I''ve actually worked on a ship, instead of just barking orders and plotting courses. This damn Phoenix is finally getting the love she deserves. I managed to snag that ECM package from the scrap yards on the outer rim ¨C a bit dented, but the core systems are solid. I''ve been routing the power conduits all morning. It''s a finicky job, but the payoff will be worth it. No more sitting duck when I stumble into a pirate ambush. The Hydra and the Mule are just sitting there, looking all sad and neglected. They''ll get their turn. They can haul cargo and minerals all day long, but they don''t get the thrill of dodging ion cannons like the Phoenix does. Maybe I''ll get around to upgrading their drone bays eventually. And the tanker, she''s just... there. Full of fuel, doing her job, patiently waiting. She''s a good ship, in her own way. The light frigates don''t need my attention, really. They''re nimble and hardy enough. Hardened subsystems for them, maybe, next time I''m in a proper shipyard. But right now, the Phoenix is my priority. Entry 2 The installation is proving a bit more fiddly than the vendor led me to believe. Still, I can feel the power humming through the frame as I connect the last of the conduits. The idea of being able to cloak my signals is... intoxicating. I can taste the strategic possibilities already. No more broadcasting my movements like a beacon in the void.A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. The Hydra and the Mule are sitting derelict at the edge of the bay. Poor things. I know I¡¯ve been neglecting them, but the Phoenix has been hogging all my attention lately. She¡¯s my baby, my first real ship, and right now... well, she needs this. The Tanker¡¯s full, which is a relief, but she remains tethered for now. Maybe tomorrow I''ll check on the others. But for now, the Phoenix is taking priority. Entry 2 - Day 129 of Cycle [Unspecified] The jammer is functional. Ran diagnostics, and the results look promising. I tested it briefly with a low-level signal, just a quick burst. Couldn''t trace it, which is perfect. I¡¯m not going to just blaze it up at full power just yet, but it''s a satisfying feeling to know that it works. Entry 3 - Day 156 of the Cycle Finished calibrating the flare system today, feels like the final piece of the puzzle. The Phoenix now feels¡­ complete. It''s got teeth, and they''re sharp. Took her on a short test run in the Asteroid Belt, just to try everything out. ECM worked like a charm, blunting some old automated defense drones. The jammer played havoc with their targeting systems, and the flares saved us from a couple of stray missiles. She handled beautifully. Everything is exactly where it needs to be. I feel guilty for neglecting the rest of the fleet. The Hydra¡¯s probably piling up credits, and the Mule is likely making runs while barely seeing me. The Tanker is just¡­ waiting. I should probably check in on them tomorrow, make sure they haven¡¯t all run aground. But for now, I''m enjoying the feeling of being in a vessel that is truly my own masterpiece. This ship is going to take us places. Dangerous places, but places nonetheless. The Phoenix has to be ready, and so do I. Mule, Hydra and Tanker Upgrade Entry 1 - Station Rented Just got the keys to my own little corner of the void. Station 17B, tucked away in the Aris sector, is a bit of a dive, but it''s got the necessities: a decent fabrication bay, access to the local power grid, and most importantly, no one asking too many questions. Rented it for three cycles, figured that''s enough time to get started. The Mule and Hydra are parked outside, looking like they''re eager for some work. First thing''s first: I need more space. Entry 2 - Hull Revisions Spent the last two cycles mostly buried in schematics and metal. Started on the Mule ¨C it¡¯s practically a tin can, so plenty of room for expansion. I focused on the lower cargo hold, adding a couple of panels with a decent cavity behind them. Now, they look like part of the regular structure, but they slide open with a carefully placed magnetic key. Nothing spectacular, but enough to hide a few crates of¡­ special goods. The Hydra is next. That''ll be tougher; it''s got a more layered hull, but I''ve got an idea for a few concealed compartments near the engine core. Entry 3 - Enhanced Drives Damn these slower freighters! The stock drives in these ships are an insult. I''ve been rerouting power and calibrating the drive coil augmentations for the Mule. It''s like adding afterburners, but less¡­ fiery. I''m running off a small auxillary generator for power, just to ensure I don''t fry the damn ship when I get too enthusiastic. Tests in the station''s maneuvering bay show a marked improvement. The thing handles like a dream now! Well, a slightly less sluggish dream, anyway. Next up, the Hydra. It¡¯s going to need a bit more finesse due to its bigger power signature.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Entry 4 - Fuel Upgrades Fuel¡­ always the damn constraint. Decided to start beefing up my fuel capacity. The Mule¡¯s auxillary tanks are now twice the normal size, fitted in the external supports with an overpressure release, just in case. Started work on adding a small tanker-style fuel bladder for the Hydra. It¡¯s tucked away under the main hull, mostly invisible. Also rerouted some fuel lines to a small auxillary tank inside. It could save my bacon in a pinch, and hopefully give me an edge over the usual fuel-gouging merchants out there. Entry 5 - Simple Yet Effective I keep telling myself this isn''t rocket science. It¡¯s just basic ship maintenance, really. But every time I weld a new panel or rewire a circuit, it feels¡­ good. Like I''m making these ships mine. I''ve been pouring over schematics, learning about power distribution, hull stress points, and how the different modules interact. It''s all interconnected¡ªlike a giant, metal puzzle. It''s not like I''m building a whole new ship, just¡­ optimizing what I have. The commoners call it hull-modifying, but I like to think I''m giving these ships some tender, loving care. Entry 6 - Routine Work today was mostly routine. Calibrated the Hydra¡¯s augmented drives, added a couple more baffles in the hidden compartments. I''m getting faster now. The station¡¯s fabricator is starting to feel like an extension of my own hands. I might have to start looking for another job to afford the upkeep here. But for now, I''m happy with my little project. These ships are finally starting to feel ready. Time to test them. Entry 7 - Ready For Takeoff Final checks on the Mule and Hydra. The hidden compartments are secure. The augmented drives purr like contented cats. The fuel tanks are full. I did a final run of the power supply from the auxillary generator, and all systems are green. Station rent runs out soon, and frankly, I''m itching to get back out there. Time to see if all this work has paid off. And maybe, just maybe, earn a little more than regular runs along the trade routes. The void is calling... Dogfight in Space - Pirates Okay, here are seven diary entries from our trader, detailing his encounter with pirates, told from his perspective: Entry 1: Cycle 347, Day 12 The void feels empty today. Almost too empty. We''re about a day out from the Xylo jump gate, and the comms chatter is quieter than usual. Hydra and Mule are plodding along behind me like sleepy beasts, Tanker''s burn is steady and economical - bless her, that old girl never lets me down. My five little hounds, Claw, Bite, Fang, Tear, and Rip are weaving around us all, their pilots, young pups really, are probably playing tag. I sometimes envy their energy. It''s a good haul this time: Xylo spice, refined in the asteroid fields. Should fetch a good price at Kepler Station. I''ve run this route a hundred times, but a nagging feeling still claws at the back of my mind. I''ll order another system sweep¡­ just to be sure. Entry 2: Cycle 347, Day 13 Damn it. I knew it. The sweep picked up a contact cluster, just beyond the gas giant. Pirate signatures, definitely. Four of them, big boys, not your usual band of scavengers. Their profiles are ugly, heavily armoured, and they''re moving fast. They¡¯re not trying to hide, which means they''re confident, perhaps even arrogant. I''ve locked their comms, but they¡¯re sending out the same old tired threats. "Surrender your cargo or be destroyed." They underestimate the Phoenix''s teeth. I''ve ordered the frigates to form a protective screen around Hydra, Mule, and Tanker. I''ve told them, protect the cargo, but if they see openings¡­ seize them. I think they are itching to stretch their legs. Time for the Phoenix to dance. Entry 3: Cycle 347, Day 13 (Later) The fight started fast. They tried to isolate the Phoenix immediately, but the frigates were too quick. Claw and Bite broke off and harried the largest pirate ship, drawing its attention. That was the opening I needed. I locked onto the biggest of the bastards with my Fangs, the kinetic guns spitting out pure agony. The vibration went right through me. The bastard was slow, barely reacting as the armour shredded and melted from concentrated impacts. It¡¯s about the only time I wish we actually had shields, not just the thick plating! I''ve launched a harpoon missile, a big one, aimed for the engines. It¡¯s tracking true. Meanwhile, my point defence is working overtime, blasting apart their swarmer missiles and the small fighter craft they launched. The Vulcan cannons are making short work of those. My boys in the frigates are a bloody mess of fire and fury, swarmers lighting up their targets, salamanders melting engines. They are so much better than I gave them credit for. They are dancing with ferocity.Stolen story; please report. Entry 4: Cycle 347, Day 13 (Later Still) One down, three to go. The harpoon hit true, crippling that first pirate ship. It''s spinning out of control, a burning wreck. The other three are regrouping, a little less cocky now. They¡¯re trying to coordinate, using their remaining fighters to create a distraction. It won¡¯t work. Rip went for one of the smaller cruiser classes, and its pilot, that wild kid, just kept the pressure on. It became a blur of movement, as if he was in a dogfight, but with much heavier targets, he actually out manoeuvred to get a salamander round to the rear of their ship! I caught a glimpse of the other two frigates, Tear and Fang, flanking, their guns spitting, keeping the pirates pinned. Hydra, Mule, and Tanker are untouched, thanks to my pups. I feel like a proud dad. Phoenix is ready for round two, I am just reloading my fangs. Let¡¯s end this. Entry 5: Cycle 347, Day 14 It''s a mess. The void is littered with debris. The fight went on for a few hours. I ended up engaging one pirate ship close range, using the Phoenix to ram its already crippled hull. It felt good to hear the crunch of metal. My Fangs ripped through the other two, but not before one of them managed to get a lucky hit on Tanker. She''s still functional, but she¡¯ll need some repairs. My lads have taken a few hits: claw has some armour plating missing, but is otherwise fine. What they lack in experience, they make up in heart. They were relentless, never backing down. I watched as tear flew past an enemy fighter, as it tried to swing round, she just launched a swarmers missile out the side, completely wiping it out. They''re good, really good. The pirates are done. I picked up a few escape pods, for questioning later. Entry 6: Cycle 347, Day 14 (Later) The jump drive is spooling up. The remains of the pirates are floating behind us like a warning sign. The comms are alive with the sound of my pilots recounting their kills - it''s good to hear them so cheerful. We¡¯re heading towards Kepler now. I¡¯ve a few questions for those pirates. I''m a trader, not a pirate hunter, but I will be sure to understand what they¡¯re doing here. If they have any good intel, then I''ll see what I can trade for it. I think I owe my crew some new armour and an upgrade to their guns. Those kids were something else today. They earned it. Entry 7: Cycle 347, Day 15 Kepler Station is in sight. A welcome sight indeed. I¡¯ve started transmitting our manifest. Docking will be a few hours. The boys are getting restless and I think they are looking forward to a drink or two. I got the info I wanted from the prisoners. They are a small group, trying to make a name for themselves in this sector. It is all petty and not connected with anything bigger¡­ yet. They won''t be bothering anyone for a while. Another day, another successful run. This time with a little more excitement than usual. I am sure the story of how we tangled with pirates will travel fast. I am not sure if that¡¯s a good thing, but I know, I would do it again. I am ready for a drink myself. I think I will give them a raise. They deserve it. Strategies to Evade being Ambushed Diary Entry 1 ¨C Kepler Station Just offloaded a shipment of refined plasteel at Kepler. Got a decent price, thankfully, and that should keep us in fuel and repairs for a cycle or two. The marketplace is bustling, as always, but I can''t shake the feeling of eyes on me. That last pirate engagement¡­those scumbags knew exactly where we were, and specifically for the valuable metals I was transporting. The intel I salvaged from their escape pods confirms my suspicions ¨C a leak. Someone on the black market is selling information, and it cost some good men their lives. I interrogated the survivors, they seemed to indicate they were told to attack a trader that looked like me flying the phoenix with a light escort of only five frigates. I need to adapt, and fast. My crew is loyal, and the pilots of Claw, Bite, Fang, Tear, and Rip are all fine warriors, but I cant bring them into a fight ill prepared. I need a plan. Three plans if possible. I have a few ideas. Diversify my trades, disguise my operations, and build up my firepower. I know the pirates will be back. I need to be ready for them, but also not paint myself as a target. Diary Entry 2 ¨C Deep Space Transit I¡¯ve started implementing the first phase ¨C diversification. I sold the rest of the plasteel and some hyperdense alloys at Kepler, then picked up a medley of smaller, less conspicuous goods: synth-silk from Xantus, some rare fungal spores from a backwater colony, and a small haul of precision micro-circuits. I need to spread the appearance of my wealth out, instead of having large amounts of concentrated resources. It''s a logistical nightmare, constantly juggling cargo manifests, but it should make me less of a target, at least on the surface. The Phoenix is a beauty, but she''s too recognizable. I''m thinking of getting her hull refitted with some camouflage plating. A subtle modification in the hull and silhouette, at least enough to throw off casual observation. The Hydra and Mule are still doing a great job as cargo carriers, but I might need to bring in more. I need cargo to become a constant thing, and not a "get it and run" sort of feel. I can also use the cargo carriers to keep track of trade, and act as a data point. Diary Entry 3 ¨C Abandoned Mining Facility near the Eridanus Nebula The second part of my plan has begun. I''ve found an old, disused mining facility out in the black. It¡¯s perfect for a secondary loading bay. The outer doors are still operable, we can use them as temporary docking bays. We''ve been working like beavers, carving out a new, hidden port bay inside the facility. We¡¯ll be able to load and unload cargo here under the cover of darkness. The pirates might be expecting my next big haul at a well-known station, I need to keep them guessing. It''s painstaking work, and we¡¯re doing it away from prying eyes, but it will be worth it. I''ve started practicing some less noticeable routes, and I believe there will be some extra space in the facility for my fleet. The Frigates also need some time to perform maintenance. I can also try and come up with some code names for the pilots. It might be helpful to keep comms clear. I am also thinking of looking at the black market myself and see if someone has more info.Stolen story; please report. Diary Entry 4 ¨C Black Market Hub ¨C Unnamed Sector Risked a trip to an unnamed black market hub. Not my usual haunts, too dangerous, but I needed more insight into who¡¯s selling my information. The place is a cesspool of smugglers, mercenaries, and information brokers. I paid a hefty sum for some data, and it seems the trail leads back to someone with connections to the corporate sector. They are likely selling information on anyone with a large amount of resources, to keep the market unstable. That''s good to know. I need to be more careful. My anonymity is now paramount. The person selling knows my name, and my ships. I went under the guise of an old man, with a raspy voice and a fake set of implants. I need to be more creative. The information broker I was speaking to seemed like he was having a hard time remembering who I was talking about. That gives me some insight. I don''t have a name I can stick too, I need to go by something else. The broker kept calling me Old Man, maybe Old Man is a good name for the time being. I also bought some jamming tech for the short-range comms as well, just in case. Diary Entry 5 ¨C Returning to the Mining Facility We successfully tested the new loading bay and have created a blind spot on the sector map. Unloading went off without a hitch, and we got the goods safely inside. The camouflage was surprisingly effective ¨C the Phoenix looks like a completely different ship. The altered hull and some well-placed paint are blending in with the asteroid fields. I need a better call sign though; Old Man won''t work long term, I am going to need something more permanent. I am going to need a call sign to help with communication, with the increase of black market traders I need a "name". I believe I''ll go by "Shadow". It fits with my need for secrecy, and will help the comms. The Frigate pilots have taken to their task like fish to water. They are eager for action, and their call signs seem appropriate. Claw is now Razor, Bite is now Viper, Fang is now Talon, Tear is now Shade and Rip is now Phantom. We look like a proper crew now. Trading Entry 1 - Sector Zeta-9 The Phoenix hums a familiar tune beneath me. It¡¯s been a long cycle since the last log, a blur of hyperspace jumps and hurried deals. I¡¯ve been operating under the moniker "Silas" this time, peddling refurbished mining drills on the outer rim of this sector. The Hydra and Mule are full to the brim with them, thankfully. It¡¯s not exactly glamorous work, but it pays, and more importantly, it doesn''t raise any flags. The old Tanker is holding up well, I¡¯m glad I spent those credits to fix it. Fuel is a constant concern for the fleet. We¡¯ve been moving so much cargo that I¡¯m almost breaking even with fuel cost and maintenance. The frigates are running well, Claw, Bite, Fang, Tear, and Rip all reported in fine, their pilots content. It¡¯s good to be moving, but it''s also good when we can just chill and relax for some time. Entry 2 - Uncharted Nebula Xylo This nebula¡­ it¡¯s beautiful but unnerving. I¡¯m operating under ¡°Jax¡± this time - feels like a name straight out of an old data-feed. We jumped into Xylo under the guise of a botanical research expedition, using a forged manifest of exotic flora being transported. Honestly, I almost believed it myself. Had to be careful not to use actual flower names when selling. The reality is we''re lugging a huge harvest of "unconventional" protein sources, grown on repurposed asteroids. It¡¯s a gamble, but I¡¯ve seen a demand for alternative food supplies here. The Phoenix has a small crew of chefs that make wonders with these. The price should be right if the locals bite. I am starting to see why the other larger factions purchase ships, but I don''t see the need, I barely make the profits I need with my fleet, more ships only means more upkeep cost and more fuel cost and well more repairs. Entry 3 - Trade Hub Nexus-7 Nexus-7 is a chaotic mess, as always. I was "Captain Thorne" this time, arriving with a hold full of specialized construction materials, nothing too illegal, just hard to come by. The bargaining was brutal, the sort that makes you grind your teeth to dust, but I got a decent price for the load. It¡¯s the small margins that keep us afloat. The constant fuel costs combined with the wear and tear on every system, it really adds up. I swear, sometimes I think I''m just working to keep my fleet flying. It would be easy to slip a few extra weapons systems for a small fee, but my crew is against it, and well, I kind of am as well.The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Entry 4 - The Shifting Sands System Operating as "Leif," I made a discreet delivery to a small colony on one of the outer planets of this system. They needed a specific grade of hyper-alloy for their defense shields. The price was high, and I drove a hard bargain. It helped that I had a good feeling about the people I traded with. This time I was trying one specific colony''s food, its not bad I have to admit. Hydra and Mule are due for a complete system diagnostic, but hopefully, it can wait, we are getting close to another trading hub. Entry 5 - The Obsidian Belt This region is a bit dicey, too many scavengers for my liking, but the price I received here made it worth the risk. I¡¯ve been using the name ¡°Reynard¡± here ¨C a bit more of a sophisticated feel this time. My cargo was a mixed load of medical supplies and advanced sensor arrays, all carefully documented and approved (more or less). I¡¯ve made sure to make different stops this time, to better disperse my jumps, and to see if there are any better areas to trade. I saw another dreadnought go by today, but this time it was far off in the distance. I¡¯m glad I don¡¯t have to pay the fuel bill for that. Bite and Fang had a training exercise today, just to stretch their thrusters and get some practice in. Entry 6 - The Ghost Star Cluster This system is eerily silent. I¡¯m going by "Kaelen" for this deal. It¡¯s a risky place to be. But I came here with a shipment of raw, unprocessed minerals, the type that makes everything look pretty when it is refined. I managed a good trade with an independent refinery and walked out with a good haul. I picked up some local spices here. I can''t believe that the pilots haven''t gotten tired of the food yet. I''m getting tired of it. I think I might start stocking more kinds of food when we get to the next trading hub. The constant travel really gets to you sometimes, I wish that there were more places where we could all rest. Entry 7 - Returning to Zeta-9 After all this cycle, we are finally back at Zeta-9. The cycle has been quite long, I have been going by "Silas" again. The cargo space is empty. The credits are decent, we have made the profit we needed to. It''s been a long few cycles of constant trading and haggling. This cycle has also had some new food changes and a new dish that was a hit for the crew. We refueled. Restocked on provisions and are ready for the next cycle. Hopefully it will be more rewarding with a shorter travel time. Resort Log Entry 1 - Cycle 4782.2 - Phoenix - Mid-Travel Standard cycle. Wake cycle initiated 0600. Nutrient paste C-14, palatable enough with added spice packet 7. Engineering holos up early, focusing on the latest upgrades to the Hydra''s cargo baffling system. It''s a bit dry, but necessary. Fuel transfer from Tanker complete at 0900, all units nominal. Hydra and Mule are holding formation nicely. Fang, Bite, Tear, Rip, and Claw are running light scans along our vector, nothing of concern so far. Trading routes are becoming predictable, but that''s a known risk. Another 12 standard hours to the Naron system, should be a decent haggling opportunity there. Sleep cycle initiated 2200. Log Entry 2 - Cycle 4783.1 - Phoenix - Naron System Naron system proving as profitable as predicted. Negotiated a decent price for the hyper-alloy plating, securing a 17% markup. The local merchant, a three-eyed Targon, was a tough one. Took some time, but the final deal was good on both sides. Loaded up the Hydra to capacity. The Mule is packed with smaller, more delicate tech, so he is stowed well. Fang and the others are on station, ready for departure at 1800. Brief inspection of the Phoenix, everything green across the board. Planning to read up on the latest grav-drive improvements during the jump. The efficiency increase is always worth studying. Sleep cycle initiated 2300 Log Entry 3 - Cycle 4784.8 - Phoenix - Resort Planet "Oasis" Docked at Oasis. A strange place, all soft lights and synthesized birdsong. I''ve been doing nothing but relax now for the better part of 2 days, and it''s not sitting well with me. I feel sluggish. They call it "restorative," but I feel strangely unproductive. The nutrient paste here is awful. I miss my C-14 with packet 7. I should be working, looking for new trade routes, optimizing my next cargo run. I have read several articles on the advancements in solar sail technology. Perhaps I can find an opportunity to test them. The whole "leisure" thing feels foreign. Longing to be back in the Phoenix''s cockpit. I will run scans in the morning. Log Entry 4 - Cycle 4785.4 - Oasis - EveningIf you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Oasis is not good for me. I''ve spent this entire cycle on a "beach" of perfectly white sand and artificial sun. I¡¯ve witnessed others enjoying themselves. Laughing, swimming, seemingly without a single burden. I must appear as an oddity. I have read a full manual on long-range sensor calibration and another on quantum entanglement, but even that feels like stalling. The silence is deafening here. I miss the hum of the Phoenix''s engines, the reports from my frigates, the challenge of trade negotiations. If this is rest I''d rather have the constant thrum of activity. I get the distinct sensation of wasting my time. Tomorrow, I''m leaving. Log Entry 5 - Cycle 4786.1 - Phoenix - Preparation Back in the Phoenix! The sound of the engines is music to my ears. Loading the Mule back with personal cargo and supplies. A full diagnostics check has been completed, all vessels are at 100. The frigates are eager and responsive. Set course for the Xylo system, rumors of a rare mineral deposit there. It is time to make some money. I have been going over the trade logs and see a high demand for the processed metals. This will be a long run but I think it will be worth it. The latest news channels are reporting a new series of skirmishes along the border, which will probably affect prices. I must be cautious going forward. Log Entry 6 - Cycle 4786.9 - Phoenix - Jump Prep Prepping the jump sequence. The news this cycle has been unsettling. There is increasing tension between the core worlds and the outer colonies. The war risk is climbing. The demand for raw materials, especially fuel, is skyrocketing already. I will be making sure that we are topped up. The Tanker is fully loaded, and we are ready for the long run. I need to check with the local market to see what the best way forward is. The risk is high, but so is the profit. I need to remember the motto ¡°Fortune favors the bold.¡± I''ve updated my personal database with the latest news reports so I remain informed. I''m also cross-referencing my maps to be sure I have calculated our path correctly. Log Entry 7 - Cycle 4787.5 - Phoenix - Jump Cycle Jump sequence initiated. We are en route to the Xylo system. I am reviewing my trade spreadsheets. I have a feeling that this run will be a good one, even with the chaos. I am back in my element now. The Phoenix feels like an extension of myself. I am reading up on defensive maneuvering tactics in case of any border encounters, and the latest news regarding the fuel prices. The potential rewards are too great to ignore. I am adjusting my strategy based on the data and news I received. Sleep cycle initiated 2200. Ready for another productive day. Browsing Trade Web Log Entry: Cycle 784.23, Phoenix Bridge Subject: Elias Vane, Independent Trader Location: Orbiting Xantus III, Outer Rim Current Status: Docked at Xantus Trade Station Delta. "Another cycle, another grind. Xantus III has been¡­ lucrative, I''ll give it that. Managed to offload the last of the synth-silk and aquaponic vegetables for a decent price. Those Xantian nobles are suckers for anything ''fresh'' from off-world. Good for me, lining the pockets as it does. Spent the downtime reading up again on the new resonant shielding tech. That engineering manual is dense, even for my standards, but I''m making headway. I need to understand this stuff better if I''m going to keep the Phoenix running without emptying my credits account every time something rattles. Hydra and the Mule are both full, waiting for the return trip. I''ve loaded them up with Xantian minerals - they''re practically giving the stuff away, and I know the demand is high on the core worlds. Tanker is full, thank the stars, managed to top off without any price gouging this time. The frigates - Fang, Bite, Tear, Rip, and Claw are all on standard patrol patterns around the station, just the way I like it. Been seeing some unsavory types around here lately. Better to be safe. Going to run a few more scans of the market before I leave. The hologram¡¯s showing some interesting potential trades..." Log Entry: Cycle 784.31, Phoenix Bridge, continued Subject: Elias Vane Activity: Market Analysis, Hologram Interface "Okay, let''s see what the galaxy is offering tonight¡­This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
  1. Lucia¡¯s Emporium (Nexus Sector, Core Worlds): They''re looking for pre-fabricated habitat modules. Big order, hefty payout, but the delivery window is tight. I''d need to re-route Hydra to make the run, and I''d need to source the habitats from somewhere a little closer to the core. Maybe a detour to the manufacturing belts around Cygnus? That would add a few days to the trip, but the profit margin looks worth it once fuel costs are worked out. Risk: High. Reward: Potentially Very High.
  2. The Crimson Collective (Veridian Belt, Outer Rim): They posted an open order for rare Xenoflora samples, with a particular need for bioluminescent varieties. I''ve seen some of that around the border regions, could easily send Bite or Claw on a quick scavenging run. The payout isn''t massive, but the travel is minimal. Risk: Low. Reward: Moderate. Good for a quick-flip while passing through.
  3. Kryll Mercantile (Acheon, Frontier): They are offering a bulk purchase of refined metals in exchange for specialized hydro-pumps. The Acheon have been having trouble with their hydroponics recently, according to the chatter. I''ve got a decent stock of pumps from that salvage run near the ruins of the Precursors. It¡¯s a good trade ¨C the metals are easily sold in the core. Risk: Low. Reward: Moderate.
  4. The Solar Collective (near Sol): They''ve got an unusual order for something called "historical data storage units." Something about old Earth files and research they are trying to recover. I''ve never dealt in this kind of artifact before. Might be tempting to send out the frigates for some scavenging but I''d have to know what I''m looking for first. Risk: Unknown. Reward: Potentially Very High or Very Low depending on the artifact. I might look into acquiring some information first, before commiting to this one.
  5. Unknown Transmission (Encrypted Channel): An encrypted message offered a trade for "information" on a restricted planet. They are looking for the exact location for a rare element. All I know is that it''s outside the designated trade lanes. Something about it smells wrong, but the payout is big. Risk: Very High. Reward: Very High.
I think I need another stim-caf. Lots to think about. I''ll make some final decisions in the next few cycles, before I engage the jump drives." Trade Routes Settled Log Entry - Trading Route Gamma-7
Phoenix is humming along, reactor purring like a contented cat. Just finished calibrating the jump drives ¨C you never want those playing up mid-jump. Heading towards the Sol Collective; got a batch of Lucia''s Emporium habitat modules they¡¯re itching to get. Supposedly, the new design boasts enhanced gravity plating and bio-regenerators. They¡¯ll be a welcome sight at some of the Collective''s remote outposts. While I¡¯m there, I¡¯m angling to convince them to send a few frigates along my route. There are whispers of some old Earth-aligned planets scattered along this sector ¨C maybe something worth scavenging. Historical artifacts, you know. Gotta get lucky eventually.
Log Entry - Arrival Sol Collective
Docked at the Collective Hub. Smooth landing, as always. The exchange went even smoother. The Collective''s Quartermaster was practically drooling over the Lucia''s Emporium modules. Mentioned those Earth-aligned planets and showed them some projected orbital maps. They saw the potential, for sure. One bit of good news, but I am going to need to manage a couple of crew shifts on the Phoenix, my own people need to rest a bit. I¡¯m also still getting the hang of this encrypted channel, the planet they are interested in has no time limit so I might go back to that one too.
Log Entry 751-Solar Cycle 373 - Scavenger Route Delta-4
Couple of jumps in. My frigates are doing their scans. We hit a planet earlier today with some interesting surface readings. Looks like there were once sizeable settlements here, but now just twisted metal and dust. My crew and I went planetside yesterday, and the frigates stayed in orbit. We found some random data cores and a few odd artifacts, all buried under layers of sediment. Nothing remarkable on the surface, but you never know with these things. The cores are encrypted, and I can¡¯t make heads or tails of the artifacts; one looks like a ceramic plate with faded writing, and another is some sort of metallic sphere with strange etchings. Might be junk, might be gold. I''ll find out soon enough.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Log Entry - Haggling & Bargaining
Back at Gamma-7. Found a small trading outpost orbiting a gas giant. Dropped anchor and hailed the station. Decent enough traders, not too greasy. Unloaded the data cores and artifacts and got their initial appraisal; some tech specs, some cultural data, and the rest was just junk. They lowballed me like they always do, claiming "limited market interest." But when they ran the cores through their analyzers, I caught their expressions¡ªeyes wide, jaws tightening. They were trying to keep it cool, but I knew they''d found something good. The tech data might have been a lot better than they were letting on. Time to haggle.
Log Entry - Reward
After a long session of bargaining and a lot of back and forth, I walked away with a payout that is more than double what they initially offered. They were clearly desperate for those data cores. The metallic sphere turned out to be a pre-collapse navigation device, apparently valuable to some historical societies. They didn''t say much about what was on the data cores, but I could tell it was advanced stuff. I''ve been at this long enough to read their tells, and I know they got a steal, but I also got a good price. It¡¯s a win-win. Another successful venture with the Phoenix. This trip has been more profitable than I thought. Time to chart a course for the next stop. Maybe there are some more hidden treasures out there...
In depth Trading Diary Entry 1 - Local Standard Another rotation ends. Dust settles on the viewport of the Phoenix. Today was mostly spent sifting through trade feeds. Damn near blinded myself looking at those flickering holograms. The usual mix of promises and dregs. Found one that piqued my interest ¨C a shipment of processed kryllium from the Zephyr Nebula, destination Port Cygnus. Good profit margin if I can get a decent price. Then, an oddball request, Xylar crystals from the Iridian Cluster heading to¡­ K¡¯tharr, of all places. Dangerous, but the payout is tempting. I¡¯ll try to swing both and squeeze ''em on the same run. Maybe Hydra can take the kryllium, her cargo holds are larger, while I personally handle the Xylar in Phoenix. Mule, as usual, will be hauling spare parts and general supplies. The frigates¡­ they''re just eating up docking fees at the moment. Maybe I¡¯ll offload them soon. Time for synth-ale and a data-stream movie. Hope tomorrow brings good dealings¡­ or at least less eye strain. Diary Entry 2 - Local Standard Haggling is a pain in the void. Spent the better part of the day in comms with the Zephyr brokers. They started high, of course, acting like they were selling solidified starlight. After a good hour of back and forth, referencing market fluctuations they¡¯d probably never heard of and playing the ''struggling trader'' card, I knocked about 15% off their initial asking price. They¡¯ll feel like they¡¯ve won, but I know I¡¯m getting the better deal. The Xylar crystals broker was a different beast. Gruff, barely polite, and wouldn¡¯t budge on his opening price. I sensed desperation, smelled it, as they say. By the end I managed to secure a 10% discount. It wasn''t pretty but it worked. The Phoenix is practically purring with anticipation, the old girl always loves a good journey. I¡¯ve started prepping the ship now. Tonight, I''ll recalibrate the jump drives. Diary Entry 3 - Local Standard Loading the Hydra and Mule is always a chore. The docking bay was a chaos of robotic arms and grumpy loader drones bumping into each other. I almost lost a thumb to a faulty crate clamp. Luckily, my personal crew, Kai was there to keep things running smoothly and fix my near mishap. We had to recalibrate a few weight compensators after loading the Kryllium, that stuff is deceptively dense. The Phoenix, is always easier. The Xylar crystals are packed into specialized containers, lined with some kind of dampening material¡­ I don¡¯t ask too many questions. Tanker''s got his fuel lines connected and his automated systems tell me he is ready to go. I''ve sent out a message to the frigates saying they are to stay put for now, no one seems to have a need for them and their upkeep can get costly. I''m looking forward to getting out of the system. Always too many regulations for my taste. Tomorrow, we jump.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Diary Entry 4 , Local Standard The void is a strange beast. So empty, yet so full of weird radiation patterns and nebulous gas clouds. It¡¯s almost meditative when the jump goes smooth. The Phoenix practically glided through it, even with the extra cargo. Spent the majority of the day reviewing navigation charts from my last successful run and doing a full check-up on all systems. Jen, helped by Kai, spent the day ensuring everything is in order. Hydra and Mule are trailing behind, like two oversized space snails, but they¡¯re doing their job. Tanker is right behind Hydra as always and in good running order. I reviewed the trading options in Port Cygnus - seems they need a good supply of water ice. Another side deal brewing for sure. A short break now. A synth-steak and a view of the distant star clusters is always a good way to unwind after a long day. Diary entry 5 , Local Standard Arrived at Port Cygnus, today, and the place is a hive of activity. Docking was a mess, with ships coming and going from every direction. After finding a berth we offloaded Hydra''s kryllium, and got a solid price agreed for it, no haggling today. That''s a win for sure. I also managed to secure that water ice shipment, it''s a quick turn around. Mule is unloading his general supplies which are also needed, and I¡¯ve lined up another cargo ¨C mining equipment heading back towards the Galactic Core. This should pay for the fuel and a bit more. Meanwhile, I had to use the Phoenix''s internal docking system and transfer the Xylar crystals into a secure shuttle for the dangerous trip to K''tharr. I hate shipping into such volatile sectors, but the potential profit makes me reconsider every time. After all, a trader always has to chase the margins. I¡¯m mentally preparing myself to venture there. Diary entry 6 - Local Standard K¡¯tharr is no place for the faint of heart. The system¡¯s main planet is a warzone, constantly bombarded by meteor showers and unstable magnetic fields. I landed on a shielded platform, the only safe place for a quick transfer. The K¡¯tharr buyer was an intimidating figure, clad in heavy armor. He checked the Xylar crystals with some sort of scanner, his eyes never leaving me. The transaction was cold and efficient, no pleasantries exchanged, just credits transferred. They are a strange bunch, the K''tharr. I¡¯m glad to be out of there. Jumped back out, heading back to meet up with the rest of my fleet. Hydra, Mule and Tanker are waiting nearby, and the Phoenix is purring with satisfaction as we reconnect. Almost there, just one more jump to freedom. The mining equipment cargo is loaded on Hydra, and we''re ready to go. Hopefully, I can get some downtime soon. Diary entry 7 - Local Standard Back in the Galactic Core, the chaotic energy feels almost familiar now. We¡¯ve docked at a familiar station, the Phoenix can rest for a while while we offload the mining equipment. Hydra has been given a break and is being prepared for her next run. The Mule is being serviced and restocked. Tanker is being refilled, getting ready for his next fuel run. I''ve spent the day reviewing the new trading feeds and trying to find my next big deal, something to kick start a new adventure. I paid the crew, and gave them all a much needed break, they have earned it. Hangar Bay Diary entry 1 The comms chatter finally died down for the night, and the hum of the Phoenix was a comforting lullaby. Another day of hauling rare metals past the Outer Rim, another profit margin squeezed just right. The Hydra and Mule are humming happily, their holds full, and even old Tanker managed not to spring a leak. My five little frigates are tucked in tight, their weapons systems powered down but ready. It¡¯s good to know the fleet is sound. But it''s the Phoenix that''s been on my mind all day. I spent the evening buried in schematic databases, scrolling through hull modifications. So many options, all screaming for my attention. I saw the usual: enhanced missile targeting, a must-have, really. More responsive maneuver thrusters, a little more zip out of a tight spot. Then there¡¯s the armour plating, designed for different types of weapons. It¡¯s a bewildering choice of protection. Even better sensors, a small investment with long repercussions. Or automated targeting, allowing me to spread my fire. But nothing felt quite¡­ right. It''s late now. Gotta get up early. Diary entry 2 Another run, another sector secured with not too much trouble. Docked at a bustling space station, the lights painting streaks across the Phoenix¡¯s hull. I reviewed the data again tonight. Range improvements on my current weapons ¨C that one is really tempting. A few extra kilometers could make all the difference in a hostile encounter. There was one interesting option, though, solar shielding specifically against those nasty X-Ray bursts in the Zylth Nebula. That could be incredibly useful for my next few runs. I also looked at expanding my survey capabilities. Mapping uncharted asteroid fields is risky but holds massive potential for new mineral veins. But still¡­ the Phoenix is more than just a cargo hauler. I want something that feels, well, like me. Nothing on this list screams, "that''s it". So, I¡¯m still holding on. Sleep beckons. Diary entry 3 The third day always feels like the hump of the week. I spent most of the day overseeing the transfer of rare gasses to Tanker. Staring at the hull in the viewport made me think about the mods again. I decided to look at the more expensive, more complex modifications. Auto-loaders for the cannons, a definite plus for firepower, or a full overhaul of the power grid to support more energy weapons. And then I saw it. Buried deep in the ¡°experimental¡± section. A converted hangar bay. Not for more frigates, mind you. This one is designed for¡­ drones. Little mining drones with lasers that can chew through rock, haul salvage from derelicts, or even act as point defense against incoming missiles. And the schematics showed the option for replacing those with some heavier-hitting fighters. I nearly choked on my ration bar. That option screams versatility. I need to look into this more. Still no decision.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Diaey entry 4 I spent half the day going back and forth through the drone hangar proposal. The potential is incredible. Automated mining ¨C I could double my resource gathering output while I¡¯m focused on trade runs. The salvage potential¡­ well, that¡¯s practically free money if I find some ancient wrecks in the right sectors. And for tough situations, a swarm of fighters could really help me hold my own. It''s perfect! Okay, maybe not perfect. The refit is expensive. It¡¯ll take time. And I¡¯d have to retrain some of the crew to handle the drones. The whole logistics of maintaining them, repairs, replacing them all needs to be factored in. And would they be better than just upgrading my current weapons and fleet? Still, the image of them buzzing around the Phoenix is compelling. I can''t shake the feeling that''s the answer i''ve been looking for. More research needed. Diary entry 5 A quiet day today, thankfully. The fleet settled down nicely on the edge of a nebula. I spent the afternoon studying the drone technology. The power requirements, the maintenance protocols, the programming¡­ it¡¯s complex, but I think I can handle it with a couple of crew updates and more spare parts. I started looking into the different drone models available. Some have stronger mining lasers, others are more robust and can withstand more damage, The fighter versions are a mix of missile drones and hard hitting laser drones. It¡¯s almost like building a small fleet within my fleet. I¡¯m getting closer, I can feel it. I think I might actually be ready to make a decision. Still, the weight of it feels heavy, with so many options to consider. Diary entry 6 The final run for this cycle. I find myself constantly looking at the Phoenix, thinking about its future. I ran simulations all day, putting the drone bay in every conceivable scenario. Mining, combat, even emergency repairs. It''s not foolproof, but it gives me an edge in a wide variety of situations. The converted hangar bay is expensive and will require constant maintenance which is going to be frustrating and time consuming. But that flexibility, that adaptability is something I have always looked for and I think this might give me that extra advantage. I reviewed the other options one last time, the weapons upgrades, the sensor packages, the various shields. They are all good upgrades, very useful, but ultimately just a slight increase to my current capabilities. The hangar bay, the drones...they change everything. Diary entry 7 I did it. I sent the requisition forms. The Phoenix will be getting a full hangar bay conversion. It feels like I¡¯ve made a monumental decision. This isn¡¯t just a mod; it¡¯s a shift in how I¡¯ll operate. I''m going to have to learn a new way of doing things. But I¡¯ve got this. The Phoenix isn¡¯t just a ship; she¡¯s a part of me. And I feel good about this. I can¡¯t wait to see those little drones buzzing around her like busy wasps, ready for anything. Time to sleep. This is the start of something new. Survey and Old relic Diary Entry 1 - Cycle 274, Day 1 Another cycle down, another cycle barely scraping by. The Phoenix is humming along nicely, old girl, but the trade routes are drying up. Everyone¡¯s either got what they need or they¡¯re too broke to buy. Even old man Hektor¡¯s precious spice is gathering dust in the hold of the Mule. The Hangar bay conversion I did last year still feels indulgent, all that space for the mining drones, but they''re the only thing pulling in a steady income these days. I watched them swarm around a chunk of nickel-rich asteroid earlier, tiny glints against the black. Hydra sits patiently in orbit, loaded with the usual, and the Tanker¡¯s ready for a long jump, but to where? I¡¯m getting restless. Tonight, I¡¯m going through the comm channels again. I need a proper job, not just this pittance. Something to put a bit of fire back in the forge. Diary Entry 2 - Cycle 274, Day 3 Found something. A survey commission. Not glamorous, no great fortunes, but it¡¯s a paycheck and a few lightyears away from this rut. The Galactic Survey Corps is looking for someone to map out a couple of uninhabited planets out near the Kaelan Drift. They¡¯re fairly close, which helps with the fuel, and the payment¡¯s decent enough. Not exactly a gold mine, but better than watching the credits bleed away. The Tanker¡¯s fuelled up and they''ve loaded the survey probes onto the Hydra. The Phoenix, Mule, and Hydra are all ready to go, and I¡¯m feeling a bit of a buzz. It''s good to feel the engines hum with purpose again. We jump tomorrow at dawn. Been running diagnostics on the mining drones, making sure they''re ready to rock. Always feel good having them do their thing. It''s like a little swarm of my own. Diary Entry 3 - Cycle 274, Day 8 Made the jump to the Kaelan Drift. The first planet is¡­ unimpressive. Barren rocks, some icy regions. The survey probes are doing their thing, gathering data about the atmospheric composition, mineral deposits, radiation levels¡­ the boring stuff. The mining drones picked up a trace of some rare earth minerals, so that¡¯s a tiny bonus at least. I''ve been keeping the Phoenix in geosynchronous orbit, overseeing everything and running scans myself. Hydra is just sitting like a big, silent sentinel. Mule has been doing a bit of mining on one of the asteroids. Boring, but it builds my reserves. The second planet¡¯s where my sensors are getting a little ping. Something''s off about it. Not just natural geological activity. Diary Entry 4 - Cycle 274, Day 10This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. The second planet is¡­ a mess. Cratered, scarred, but also¡­ ancient. My scans are showing buildings buried under layers of dust and rock. I put the Phoenix into a lower orbit, deploying the scout drones. They confirmed it ¨C a derelict outpost, or maybe a small research station. I couldn''t believe it. It looks like it was hit hard and fast, buried almost instantly. I''ve been running damage assessments and my gut is telling me the main habitation area is still sealed. I had the mining drones clear a path, and then I set about getting the Phoenix into position. It was a tight fit getting it into a safe orbit within the atmosphere, but it was necessary to allow my frigates to be closer to the surface. We¡¯re going down for a closer look in the morning. Diary Entry 5 - Cycle 274, Day 11 We breached the outpost today. It was a bit of a gamble. The main access was practically fused shut, but a mining drone managed to cut through it. The interior was¡­ remarkable. It''s clearly very old, but a lot of the tech inside is still semi-functional. The power grid is down, but it looks like the main control room, and a few storage rooms are still relatively sealed from the elements. But the surprise came later. While my frigates were scouting the perimeter, they ran into hostiles. Not organic, but old drones. Combat drones. They had no shields, basic projectile weaponry. My frigates¡¯ swarmer missiles made short work of them, thankfully. No real threat. It was almost too easy. Just some outdated AI running on autopilot. We¡¯ve salvaged some of the drones and, more interestingly, some old AI cores. I''m going to take some time to figure these things out, but they seem very alien. Diary Entry 6 - Cycle 274, Day 13 We¡¯ve salvaged everything that¡¯s salvageable. The AI cores are¡­ odd. They''re encrypted with layers upon layers of code, and some of it is incredibly ancient; nothing like anything I¡¯ve ever seen. I spent hours trying to decipher the simplest data logs, and it''s just gibberish or static, but they have a power. Sometimes, something will leak through the encrypted data and I get flashes of things... places... a civilization lost to time. The outpost is a marvel of engineering, and there are so many mysteries here. At least three of the AI drones are functional and I am keeping them for research. After my own research, with the help of my own AI that I have installed on the Phoenix, it is clear these cores hold a lot of information. I¡¯ve gathered the data from all the survey probes and from the drones, cataloged everything, and prepared it for transmission. I¡¯ve also loaded the salvaged tech onto the Hydra. Time to go back. Diary Entry 7 - Cycle 274, Day 18 Back at the comm relay. Uploaded the survey data to the Survey Corps. They seem pretty pleased. I even got a bonus for the unexpected findings! I haven''t told them about the AI cores or the ancient tech. That''s my little secret for now. The profit has gone a long way into repairs and upgrades to all of my ships. I¡¯m going to take some time to analyze these things before I hand them over to anyone. Delivery Man Entry 1 - Cycle 742.12 The market''s been as stagnant as a zero-G pool for months. Another cycle of buying low, selling... slightly higher, barely enough to keep the maintenance bots humming. The margins are razor thin, the competition cutthroat ¨C even if ¡°cutthroat¡± means haggling over fractions of a cred. It¡¯s like squeezing water from a dried-out sponge. I¡¯m starting to feel like one myself. There¡¯s no real trade happening anymore, it¡¯s all just shuffling goods according to some algorithm set by the council. Where¡¯s the risk? Where¡¯s the reward? Where¡¯s the spark? Entry 2 - Cycle 743.03 I finally had enough. I liquidated most of my inventory. No more chasing decimal points. Instead, I leveraged something I did have: my reputation. I¡¯ve spent cycles making contacts, building trust. It turns out, that¡¯s valuable, even in this tepid economic climate. I¡¯ve moved out of ¡°trader¡± and into ¡°delivery specialist¡±, as they call it. No more price fluctuations, no more sitting on stock hoping for a surge. The trade is set ¨C a fixed commission for getting cargo from A to B. It¡¯s¡­stable. At least I''m making a consistent income, but I can''t help long for the feeling of speculation, even if I was losing credits on it before. Entry 3 - Cycle 743.27 My first few runs went smoothly. Hauling industrial polymers to sector Gamma-9, nutrient paste to the research outpost on Kepler-4. The ships I use are owned by the companies, I¡¯m merely a pilot now. It felt¡­ unsatisfyingly efficient. Like a cog in a machine. No haggling, no clever barters, just pick up, fly, drop off, collect payment. I find myself longing for the messiness of actual trading, even the frustration. Still, the money is reliable and I''m able to sustain myself.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Entry 4 - Cycle 744.18 I¡¯ve been spending my downtime in the sim. Running scenarios, pushing the Phoenix and a few frigates through asteroid fields, gravity wells, and simulated pirate skirmishes. The Phoenix¡­ she''s got power, a real beast in a straight line, but lacks bite in a tangle. Turning radius is atrocious. The frigates have the manuverability but are lackluster in their cargo and shielding. I can see why they''re commonly used for escort. I need to dig into the schematics, see if I can find some way to squeeze more maneuverability out of her, maybe some adjustments to the thruster arrays. It¡¯s a bit of a pet project now, but the idea of pushing the limits of these craft is a welcome distraction from the monotony. Entry 5 - Cycle 744.32 The deeper I go into the schematics, the more potential I see. The Phoenix¡¯s core thrusters are powerful, yes, but they¡¯re optimized for long, straight-line thrust, not the kind of sudden bursts needed for quick maneuvers. I started sketching out ideas for auxiliary thruster placements. It won''t be easy. It requires refitting. The risk is high, but the possible rewards of an edge above the others. I wonder if I can get the time off from deliveries to experiment. Maybe some of the smaller companies would be willing to test some modifications. This has sparked a fire in me, I haven''t felt this engaged in a while. Let''s see where this leads. Engineering Phoenix Entry 1 The schematics for the overdrive are more complex than I initially thought. We are not talking about just pumping more juice in. The energy coil needs to be refabricated with a tighter configuration that will handle the rapid discharge. It will put stress on the reactor I''m afraid but I will offset this by adding extra cooling around the core. It will add extra weight but the trade off should be well worth it. The real challenge, I think, will be refining the maneuvering thruster array. Normally they¡¯re controlled by sensors that give smooth inputs but this overdrive is not about smooth, its about sudden. I¡¯m thinking of rerouting direct control from the main helm to the thruster control so I can maximize the input. Almost like a manual override during the overdrive. I spent most of the day sourcing the materials for the refab of the coil. They were expensive. I hope this all pays off. Entry 2 The refabricated coil is in. The reactor''s been running hotter than a forge''s heart during testing. I¡¯ve installed the extra cooling units and it seems to be offsetting the extra heat. I spent the day welding extra bracing around the core. I¡¯ve had a few mishaps. A small breach in the cooling system but I was able to patch it quickly. I¡¯ve decided to christen the project "The Raptor." It seems fitting with the extra speed. The manual override to the thrusters is almost complete. It¡¯s a tangled mess of wires and servos, but it works. I took Phoenix on a small test run today, just outside the docking bay. Nothing was over-stressed but it did feel very different. I need to refine the controls, it''s twitchy but the potential is there.Stolen novel; please report. Entry 3 Frustration is a bitter spice. Testing the Raptor over a larger distance, I discovered a critical flaw. The sudden energy surge, while delivering the boost I wanted, caused a harmonic vibration in the thruster housing, threatening to tear it apart. I had to shut it down immediately. I spent all day running diagnostics. We are adding too much power to the thruster array at once. After reviewing my schematics again I realized I missed a harmonic damper within the array. I¡¯ve reconfigured the array with the dampers. This should solve the problem. I¡¯ve also added another layer of shielding to the reactor core after the last test nearly took off my eyebrows. Lesson learned: don¡¯t get too close to the reactor when you''re pushing it to its limits. Entry 4 Success. The Raptor is operational. The modifications seem to have worked. I took Phoenix on a longer test run today, pushing her to the edge ¨C firing the overdrive in quick bursts, maneuvering sharply. There was a moment when I almost lost control but the manual override worked beautifully. It was like dancing with a wild beast. The three-second burst feels like an eternity when you''re fighting the controls. The speed is breathtaking. And the added maneuvering¡­ it¡¯s a game-changer. I think this is the edge I needed. This is going to change how I do business. I need to run more tests but for now, Phoenix is better than ever. I think I need to head home for a drink. Entry 5 Raptor is not just for speed, its become an art. I spent my time today practicing with the Raptor. I¡¯m trying to learn its limits. I¡¯m getting a feel for the controls. It''s definitely not something to engage lightly. The risks are high, but so are the rewards. I envision using it to outrun pirates or to get in that final shot of a duel. When I''m brawling with the Phoenix and I see a weakness, a flaw of my opponent spaceship I close in on it. If I need pull away due to too much heat I can. The possibilities are endless. The Art of Mining Stardate: 2348 Phoenix¡¯s hum is starting to feel¡­ monotonous. The jumps between systems, the careful negotiations, the endless checking of market fluctuations¡­ it''s all become so bloody routine. Trade''s been stagnant for weeks, credits barely trickling in. I could practically set the automated systems and take a year off. But then I''d go mad with boredom. So, I decided to dig into the Phoenix¡¯s database ¨C literally, as it turns out. Pulled up the records from past owners. Seems this old girl saw more time hauling ore than exotic spices. I found a whole archive on mining operations. Fascinating stuff, actually. I always thought it was just ¡®point laser, blast rock, collect shiny things.¡¯ Turns out it¡¯s¡­ complex. Different kinds of impactor lasers, designed for various asteroid compositions. Some pulverize, others vaporize, some even use focused sonic vibrations. Then there are the gravity harvesters ¨C huge, imposing things that literally rip chunks off asteroids. Never imagined there was so much sheer mechanical ingenuity involved just to get at rocks. I''ve been browsing schematics and simulation videos for hours. The Phoenix even has a small, outdated mineral scanner tucked away in a storage locker. Never knew that existed. It''s surprisingly sensitive, showing different mineral compositions through a holographic overlay. I could be sitting on a small gold mine myself if I knew what I was doing. Maybe this trade lull is a sign. Time to learn something new. Stardate: 2348 Spent half the day in the simulation suite, running scenarios. Asteroid mining is nothing like I imagined from those old vids. It¡¯s not just about hitting things. You need to choose the right tool for the job, analyze the rock composition, plan the blast pattern, and even manage the debris. I was laughing at my own incompetence, watching simulated chunks of rock go flying in every direction, the virtual debris field expanding around me like a chaotic nebula. I feel like a kid playing with a new toy.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Turns out there are also various magnetic storage units. Some are designed to hold raw ore, others are sophisticated enough to hold refined minerals in compressed form. Its whole delicate, dangerous and fascinating world of engineering and planning! No wonder they¡¯re called ¡°miners.¡± It''s an art form, apparently, not just brute force. The Phoenix even has two small magnetic claws tucked away, I wonder If i could ever use them. I¡¯ve started cross-referencing the database with current resource prices. Even with the stagnant markets, certain rare minerals are still fetching a decent return. Maybe I could use the smaller impactor attachments I saw in the Phoenix''s archives. I might not get rich, but the change of pace¡­ it¡¯s genuinely appealing. I am actually contemplating heading towards the belt between Xylos and Cygnus to see what I can find. Stardate: 2348 The jump point to that asteroid belt is only a few jumps away. I¡¯ve been tinkering with the Phoenix, getting familiar with the mining tools I found and running more simulations. It¡¯s a little like learning to fly again, but instead of piloting a spaceship, I''m piloting blasts of energy and magnetic fields. I even started cleaning off the dust from that old mineral scanner, gave it a once-over. I found a few old calibration logs, and now it seems to be working better than I expected. I feel a different kind of anticipation now. Not the hurried, anxious feeling of finding the best deals, but a calm, methodical excitement. I am not going for a big pay day, I want to learn something new! I am a trader, but I am curious. I''m eager to dig into the heart of an asteroid and find out what lies hidden within. It''s strange. For the first time in a long time, I am genuinely excited about what the next solar cycle might bring. Perhaps this little detour into mining is exactly what I needed. Mining Asteroids Stardate: 2348.11.02 The Phoenix hums, a familiar lullaby beneath my feet. Before casting off from Port Kepler, I spent nearly an hour securing the mining tools ¨C the grav-drill, the pulse-laser cutter, the sonic resonator; each piece a marvel of engineering, designed for a specific purpose against the unyielding void. I also triple-checked the volatile mineral storage bays ¨C the specialized shielding and venting systems are crucial. One mistake with unstable compounds, and this ship becomes a rather large, very expensive firecracker. My jump coordinates are locked in: the Cylos jump point. Fingers crossed this little expedition pays off, or at least proves interesting. The void can get¡­ monotonous. Stardate: 2348.11.07 The jump was clean. Cylos¡­ well, it''s a gas giant, as predicted, but the asteroid rings are far more impressive than the orbital scans indicated. Thick swaths of rock and ice orbit the leviathan, a cosmic debris field sculpted by gravity¡¯s hand. The initial drones found nothing truly remarkable, just the standard mix of silicates and common metals. Still, the sheer scale of it all is breathtaking. It¡¯s like staring into the gears of some vast, ancient machine. I''ve ordered the frigate squadron to begin their training exercises amidst the smaller asteroids. A bit of close-quarters maneuvering practice will do them good, and I suspect they appreciate the view as much as I do. Stardate: 2348.11.10 Mining... it''s a slow dance with the cosmos. It¡¯s not the frenetic, explosive work you see in the old holovids. It''s meticulous. First, I use the sensor array to scan for mineral deposits, then the grav-drill to make the initial incision into the asteroid. Sometimes, I have to switch to the pulse-laser if the bedrock''s too dense, or the sonic resonator if the strata are layered. There are setbacks, of course. A power surge fried a coolant line this morning, costing me a precious hour to repair. And then there are the hours of nothing - drilling through inert rock, watching the numbers tick slowly on the monitor, feeling the ship vibrate in response to the cosmic grind. But then, there are flashes of brilliance. The subtle shift in the readings, the glint of a different color in the debris¡­ Today, it was a vein of rare nickel-iron alloy, a small but welcome find. I''m finding myself enjoying the rhythm of it all. It¡¯s as much art as it is science.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. Stardate: 2348.11.14 The Hydra and Mule drones are packed to capacity ¨C loaded with refined ore and rare metals. The Phoenix is also near bursting, which, I must admit, feels good. The storage bays are all at maximum efficiency. It¡¯s been a week of slow, steady work, but it''s paid off. I¡¯m finding a deeper sense of satisfaction in the process itself than in any potential profit margin. It¡¯s the quiet solitude, the hum of the machinery, the sense of creating order from the chaos of space. The asteroids themselves are old, silent witnesses to eons, and I feel a strange kinship with them. Then, this afternoon, it happened. Deep within a fractured asteroid, the sensors began to sing. Not the usual hum, but a distinctive resonance ¨C a subtle harmonic I¡¯ve rarely encountered. I switched to the precise mining laser, etching away the rock carefully, layer by layer. What emerged was unlike anything I¡¯ve ever seen: a crystal formation, pulsing with an inner light, unlike any mineral on record. Its energy signature is off the charts. My initial scan suggests it to be a highly unstable compound, but... potentially incredibly valuable, if handled properly. I''ve locked down the cargo bay and am running diagnostics. It¡¯s too volatile to keep in the general hold. Thankfully I prepared for this, so they can be stored under a magnetic dampener. Time to head back to civilization and sell all the materials off. As for the crystals, that will remain a secret. If it''s sold it will be under an ''alias'' over the black market. Research Facility Okay, here are the diary entries, recorded verbally and transcribed: Entry 1 - Stardate 2450 ¡°Alright Phoenix, recording on. Seems like we got ourselves a real doozy this time. A commission, they called it. ¡®Urgent delivery, high priority,¡¯ they said. More like highly illegal, the way they were whispering about it. Some cargo needs to get to¡­ well, I don¡¯t even know the planet¡¯s name, just a set of coordinates. Pay¡¯s astronomical though, so who am I to argue? Something about a ¡®time sensitive component for a research operation¡¯ but the way they were sweating, makes me think it¡¯s more than a simple widget exchange. Anyway, we''re locked in for the jump now. Let''s hope this isn''t our last run, eh old girl?¡± Entry 2 - Stardate 2450 ¡°Phoenix, we¡¯re out of hyperspace. This is¡­ unnerving. The coordinates put us right on top of what¡¯s supposed to be a bustling orbital transfer station. Except there¡¯s¡­nothing. No traffic, no radio chatter, just an eerie silence. I tried hailing them, about a dozen times, but all I¡¯m getting is static. The client specifically warned about landing, but I don''t have much choice now. Package is too important, or so they say and I''ll be damned if I''m losing that pay. Something definitely went wrong here. Time to take the small mining drones, and deliver it down personally. Wish me luck.¡± Entry 3 - Stardate 2450 ¡°Okay, scratch that ¡®luck¡¯ bit. I¡¯m on the surface, hovering a few meters above the landing pad. The mining drones are deployed, and I''m using their feed to take a look around. The station is¡­ deserted. Completely silent. There¡¯s a faint smell of ozone and¡­ something rotten hanging in the air. It''s like a ghost town. Wait, scratch that. Not ghosts. The mining drones are picking up movement. Thermal readings are going crazy, and I¡¯m seeing¡­ things. Fast. And¡­ rabid. it seems human, but not anymore. I pull out my M1 Laser pistol, just in case some slip through. They are coming right for the landing platform. The drones are already engaging, lasers going to work, the smaller ones do the trick just fine. I just¡­ had to make some adjustments, but I''m glad the drones are helping me. This place is horrifying. Some got through, but the thermal laser still works on their flesh.¡±The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Entry 4 - Stardate 2450 ¡°Okay, chaos under control¡­ for now. The drones managed to neutralize the immediate threat, at least in this area. The creatures¡­ whatever they are¡­ were fast and vicious. I''m guessing what this is - Some kind of research experiment gone wrong. The leaked files they were so careful to hide. There''s no way this was meant to be here. I am just hoping what I have in the container is worth it. I got a message on my terminal, a single line of text with coordinates. I''ve got one of the mini-drones with the package, sent it on its way. It should be there soon. One more thing done and then I¡¯ll be off this cursed rock. Phoenix is warmed and waiting.¡± Entry 5 - Stardate 2450 ¡°We¡¯re back in orbit. The Phoenix is roaring, the emergency thrusters are on full. I swear, I have never been so happy to engage hyperdrive. That station¡­ that planet is a nightmare. I have no idea what¡¯s going on down there, or what I just delivered. A bio-weapon? Some kind of virus? A new species gone mad? Whatever it was, I¡¯m leaving it far, far behind. I need to purge the drones, and get some therapy. I''m shaking. This job was not worth the money, but we made it. Time for a drink. Time to get out of this system, and hope someone can make sense of this mess. Phoenix, set course for¡­ anywhere but here. Recording off.¡± Black market Diary Entry 1 Another day, another round of combat simulations. The Phoenix''s training suite has become my second home. Today''s program focused on close-quarters engagement, replicating the cramped corridors of a derelict freighter ¨C the sort we might encounter out on the Rim. My pulse rate spiked early, as always. Even the simulated threat of those¡­ things... brought back flashes. The simulation used the old "infected human" model. It¡¯s still chillingly effective. My groupings got tighter, my reaction times were faster ¨C a marked improvement from last week. I managed a 74% success rate, which is the best I¡¯ve hit yet, but it¡¯s still not good enough. I need to drop that reaction time even more. Later, I ran some simulations with varying types of weapons ¨C pulse rifles, railguns, even the archaic slugthrower. The variety is useful, but the need to be proficient with all of them feels like a losing battle. I need to focus. Diary Entry 2 The black market net chatter was particularly lively tonight. I spent hours sifting through the encrypted channels, a digital back alley of weapons dealers and information brokers. My goal was the same: find an edge, a way to be better, faster. I saw plenty of pulse weaponry modified for higher firing rates, but the stability was all over the place, like trying to hit a target with a wet noodle. Some of the railguns being offered had significantly increased power output, but at the cost of a massive drain on the power cell ¨C and the recharge time was abysmal. One dealer was pushing something called the ¡°Wraith Carbine.¡± It boasted a high rate of fire and decent accuracy. The intel claimed it was used by some of the more unscrupulous corporate security teams with less-than-stellar reputations, known for their brutal efficiency rather than their moral compass. I bookmarked it. Probably too good to be true, though. More concerning were the whispers about a new strain of the infection cropping up in the outer colonies. It was classified as ¡°variant Omega¡± and supposedly displayed increased aggression and transmissibility. This set my teeth on edge. I¡¯ve marked it in the Phoenix¡¯s memory banks. Another reason why I can¡¯t be slow, can¡¯t hesitate. I tried to get specifics, offered some rare mineral samples from a recent mining expedition, but the information broker went cold on me after that. It seems like some things they aren¡¯t willing to give up or be paid for. I got the distinct impression that some information is more valuable than any material. Diary Entry 3 I spent a good portion of my morning looking into exoskeletons. I know it sounds drastic, but at this point, I''m not ruling anything out. I sifted through technical specifications and maintenance manuals of several different models. The ''Crusher'' line was built for heavy work in asteroid fields; slow, and clunky, not what was needed for the kind of quick response I need to be when moving through tight spaces. The ''Viper'' models were more agile, but their armour plating was minimal. The ''Predator MK II'' seemed like a good balance, offering enhanced strength and speed as well as a decent layer of shielding. The issue with all of them, obviously, is weight and bulk. The Phoenix wasn¡¯t exactly built to house heavy, bulky things. I''d need to modify the interior of the ship. The money is also a factor, of course. Black market tech wasn''t exactly low-cost. I''d need to sell a lot of those mineral samples I mentioned before in this case. The investment was definitely considerable, but the potential increase in combat effectiveness was tempting. It was a lot to consider. I decided to put that thought process on hold. For now, I''ll focus on the training. If I can keep improving my times, maybe I won''t have to rely on those crutches.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Diary Entry 4 This night, I went back through the black market intel, this time trying to trade some intel on not just any infected hotspot, but the source. I found channels and sent out data packets with coordinates and recorded encounters, hoping to get something in return. A few offered low-level info, all of which I already knew. One channel, however, seemed more promising. They offered me a heavily modified version of the Wraith Carbine, equipped with a targeting module and a custom ammunition type. They wanted specific data and I obliged. I hated those bastards who didn''t contain this thing. I should have ordered my frigates to blow that place sky high back then. Diary Entry 5 Got the Wraith Carbine today. It''s a beautiful piece of tech, sleek and dark with that unsettling hum I''ve heard whispers of. They say it chews through armor like it¡¯s made of paper. While efficient, it just doesn''t have the same visceral thrill as a good close-quarters fight with my ship. Those are where your skills truly get tested, the dance of thrust and fire. This weapon, though, is more of a safeguard, a "just-in-case" for when things turn truly ugly. Phoenix is humming along nicely, still hauling ore from the Kaelos mines. Glad I got back into that. Mule and Hydra are doing their part as well, the reliable workhorses they are. And old Tanker, that cranky fuel-guzzler of a vessel, keeps all our tanks topped off. Wouldn¡¯t be anywhere without her. Diary Entry 6 The new exoskeletons arrived. Went with the Predator MkIIs, like I planned. That was a painful dent to the savings, but it felt like the right choice. I spent the better part of the day running tests; the thing is a marvel. The strength and speed boost is significant, but the maneuverability feels organic, not like some clunky tin-can. I''ve been thinking more about possible personnel drops. It feels increasingly important to be able to quickly respond in person, not just with ships, now. The Predator seems like that perfect balance between power and agility. I hope they live up to what they promise. The infection¡­seems to be under control, at last. A few stragglers here and there, but nothing like the chaotic mess it was. Time to get back to trading routes and mining ops. The stars call, and credits need to be made. Back to Mining and Trade Entry 1 The hum of Phoenix is a lullaby these days. I¡¯ve grown so accustomed to it, sometimes I forget the vastness of the black outside these viewports. Today was all business. Hydra and Mule, bless their sturdy bulkheads, were packed to the gills with a mismatched cargo of hyper-ceramics and nutrient paste. A quick skip to the Kepler-186f colony, a smooth docking, and credits transferred. Felt good, honest work. They¡¯re a friendly bunch there, always up for a trade and a bit of a natter. I even managed to pick up some rare synth-tea which I''m looking forward to brewing. This delivery hustle isn¡¯t glamorous, but it pays the bills and keeps Phoenic flying. It''s a start, at least. Entry 2 Back to the asteroid fields. The familiar cold grip of zero-g, the distant, glinting stars, the rhythmic clang of the mining drones¡­ I find a strange peace in the repetitive process. It''s a good feeling to know that I am literally pulling wealth out of the void. Today we were in cylos deep, a dance of precision and patience. The automated drones, guided by my calculations, bored into the rock. The extracted minerals were then shunted to the processing unit, refined and separated. It¡¯s time-consuming and requires constant calibration, but the results are satisfying. The Tanker was waiting patiently, its docking arm extended, ready to slurp up the freshly refined fuel. My little fleet is working like a well-oiled machine, and that feels damn good.This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Entry 3 I spent a good portion of the day reviewing the data I collected from the last mining run . The analysis showed that at least one asteroid contained a higher concentration of rare earths than I had anticipated. I''ve marked it on my navigation charts. It¡¯s good to feel like I''m getting better at this, learning more of the craft. The frigates, usually quiet, chimed in with minor course corrections; good to know they¡¯re always alert. Hydra and Mule, currently hauling supplies to a frontier station near the Proxima Centauri system, sent back cheerful status reports. I feel a quiet sense of well-being, looking into the vast, empty night and knowing I am building something here, something that''s all my own. I have come so far since leaving my home planet. Each cycle, I feel a little more like I''m becoming the person I always hoped I could be. Entry 4 Another delivery run, this time to a research station orbiting a gas giant. A bit boring but I needed the credits. The scientists seemed more interested in their test tubes than in me, which suited me just fine. I had time to go over the schematics for the new shield modifications I''m planning for Phoenix. I feel as if I am creating such a home for myself in this ship, it needs to be well defended. The Tanker is full and waiting patiently for the next extraction. The whole process of getting the fuel and minerals, and delivering cargo, feels so much more routine, more natural, with time.. New Trade routes opening Phoenix, my beautiful beast, hums like a contented predator waiting to hunt. I¡¯ve spent enough credits on her to buy a small moon, but it was worth every single unit. The upgraded jump drives, the reinforced hull plating¡­ she¡¯s not just a ship, she¡¯s an extension of my will. She''ll need a new coat of paint soon. Scratched up so bad, like a wild animal. Mule and Hydra, my trusty cargo haulers, are bobbing in orbit, filled to the brim with mining equipment. Thank the stars for those automated loaders, my back''s not what it used to be. And Tanker, always ready with the juice, keeping us all fuelled and moving. The five frigates continue their duties. The Pilots have become more assimilate to the work. The still go through their training drills, after all its ones life on the line. Entry 2 - (Deep Core Digs) The asteroid belt is more beautiful than anyone gives it credit for. It''s dark, brutal even, but the way the Phoenix cuts through the debris, lights glinting off the metallic surfaces¡­ it''s like navigating through a cosmic jewel box. Mining the core elements is¡­ well, it¡¯s an art form, really. You have to be precise, efficient, almost¡­ gentle. We''re using a combination of laser fracturing and gravity tethers, pulling the core segments free without causing a chain reaction of exploding rocks. Mule and Hydra are making short, but constant supply runs. It¡¯s tedious at times, the endless cycle of mining, processing, storing. But seeing the holds slowly fill with refined ore ¨C that¡¯s what it¡¯s all about. Real, solid, hard-earned material. The Mark II Predator is proving its worth too. I¡¯ve been doing some deep core extractions in person. The suit allows me to move with the grace of a dancer and the brute force of a leviathan. Kicking a recalcitrant rock aside with enough force to send it spinning into the abyss feels... good. Its balance is incredible and I think I can take it further. It needs some more power but that''s a whole other project. It¡¯s not just work, either. I¡¯ve converted one of the Phoenix''s old cargo bays into a firing range. Keeps the crew sharp and provides a bit of¡­ release. The plasma pistol practice is cathartic, to say the least. Entry 3 The long cycles of mining are¡­ well, they¡¯re starting to bore me. Even with the Predator training. The holds are overflowing, and while I appreciate the steady income, I crave something more. Something different. I¡¯ve spent the last few dark cycles browsing the trade networks. It seems new trade opportunities are popping up all over the place. The reports are a tangled mess of needs and surpluses, but a few threads stand out. Mining rights on a gas giant, the tech for a new type of alloy, rumors even of a derelict ship with¡­ well, that¡¯s anyone''s guess. The old, reliable trade routes are flooded with old competitors, I need to think wider. Something risky and lucrative. Maybe it¡¯s time to move on from rocks and start exploring the fringes of what¡¯s possible again. I miss that feeling. It was what drove me to buy the Phoenix in the first place. My fleet is sitting in my peripheral view, the blackness of space is tempting me now, instead of the endless streams of asteroid debris. Time to refuel and choose my next target. I think it''s time for a little adventure.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. Entry 4 (The Itch) One more cycle of mining. One more. I need to finish this run before I can justify going on that crazy goose chase for a derelict but the boredom is gnawing at me. One second I''m in the exosuit, moving about like a god of the rocks, the next I''m reading market reports on my command deck. The monotony of making money is almost driving me insane. That''s the thing about capitalism I guess. The only way to keep it interesting is to make so much that you can afford to do what you really want. I want to explore. The Phoenix is aching to do some real jumps, the Harbingers are practically trembling to do something other than guard cargo ships. I''ve set up all the coordinates for the gas giant as well. I guess those mining rights could prove lucrative, or they could be a money pit. Either way it''ll be a new challenge. Entry 5 The dust of the asteroid belt is finally settling, both literally and figuratively. For months, it''s been nothing but the rhythmic hum of the mining lasers and the groan of the Phoenix as it hauls ore back to the refinery. Profitable, yes, but¡­monotonous. I swear, if I see another chunk of plasteel, I''ll chuck myself out an airlock. But the coffers are full, and more importantly, the Phoenix is no longer alone. My little fleet - the Talon, the Vulture, and that clunky old freighter, The Mule - is finally operational. We''re ready for something more. I''ve been sifting through the network traffic, and it seems the recent collapse of the Xylos Cartel has left a gaping hole in several trade routes. Opportunistic, I know, but my crew needs more than rock dust to keep them motivated. A couple of promising leads popped up. One involves the shipment of bio-luminescent algae to the Outer Rim colonies - apparently, they''re desperate for some ''natural'' lighting. The other is a strange request for a rare type of crystallized hydrogen, used in¡­ well, I''m not entirely sure. But the price is hefty. I think we''ll go for both. Cover our bases, so to speak. Entry 6 The bio-luminescent algae run was¡­ messy. Turns out, transporting living organisms through hyperspace requires more finesse than I anticipated. Half the cargo bays had to be scrubbed down after a rather unfortunate ''bloom'' incident. Still, the price they paid on the Outer Rim was more than worth it. The colonists were practically throwing credits at us. Made me feel like a damn delivery saint. The haggling was¡­ interesting. They were a bunch of hard-scrabble farmers with a knack for squeezing every last credit out of a deal. I had to play the ''weary traveller'' card pretty hard to come out ahead. But I managed, and the Phoenix is now buzzing with the energy of a successful venture. The Talon and the Bite were invaluable during the docking procedures at the agricultural outpost - the local customs officers were... let''s just say they weren''t known for their gentle handling of visiting ships. Having a couple of armed vessels on the periphery seemed to make them think twice about being too thorough. Safety first, always. Entry 7 The crystallized hydrogen deal is proving far more¡­ complicated. The contact is a shadowy figure known only as the ¡®Silkworm¡¯ operating out of a station on the fringes of the Aethel Nebula. The area stinks of pirates and smugglers. We picked up a few stragglers following us on approach, but Talon and Vulture dealt with them swiftly. Good to know they¡¯re ready if I need them. Meeting the Silkworm was like negotiating with a sentient fog. They spoke in riddles and coded phrases, all while shuffling through data pads like they were playing a game of solitaire. They definitely had the upper hand at the start. I realized that the key was to not show too much interest. So, I leaned back, pretended I was bored, and let them spill about their ¡°urgent need for this rare compound¡±. Then I hit them with my counter offer, a little higher than I would normally ask but judging by their reaction I could have pushed it more. The final price was¡­ satisfying. More than makes up for the bio-algae mess. They kept their reasons quiet but I have a strange feeling this material is not for anything legal and harmless. I might need to look into that later. I''m ready for it. I''m done with the rocks. Let''s find something else. Operation: Cozy Phoenix Entry 1: Cycle 784, Sol Standard The Phoenix is a beauty. Sleek, reliable, and damn near indestructible. I¡¯ve hauled everything from synth-spices to antimatter cores in her. But lately, as I stare at the cold metal walls of my bunk after a long trading run, I''ve realized she¡¯s more functional than¡­ well, homely. It¡¯s time for a change. This trip to Xylos, I''m not leaving without a shopping list. I¡¯m calling it ¡®Operation: Cozy Phoenix¡¯. First on the list: a proper air filtration system. The paste we hauled last cycle¡­ I swear I can still taste it sometimes. And the cargo bay still smells faintly of whatever those sentient fungi were. I need something that will actually scrub the air beyond the industrial-grade purification unit. Maybe something with ionized lavender? Sounds ridiculous, but I''m desperate. Secondly, holographic art. The walls in the common room feel so¡­ blank. I¡¯ve seen some incredible pieces in the orbital markets, dynamic landscapes that shift with the time of day. A piece of the Azure Nebula in my living room? Yes, please! Finally, some decent utensils. I''m so tired of eating nutrient paste with those flimsy, mass-produced sporks. I envision real metal spoons, forks that feel substantial, and maybe even a set of bone-handled knives for when I manage to acquire something that isn''t squishy. Wish me luck, Xylos, your markets are about to get a shake-up from a trader seeking comfort. Entry 2: Cycle 792, Sol Standard The Xylos markets are a treasure trove! And expensive¡­ Let¡¯s start with the good news. I found a ¡°Scent-Sculptor 5000,¡± a marvel of engineering with a ridiculous name. It¡¯s not just an air scrubber; it can create atmospheric scents on demand. I¡¯ve loaded it with data packs for everything from ¡°Rain on a Terraforest¡± to ¡°Spicy Market Bazaar.¡± I''m running the "Gentle Starfall" scent now ¨C it¡¯s a layered mix of ozone and sweet minerals ¨C and wow, the Phoenix feels different already. No trace of paste-fungus stench. Hallelujah! The holographic art acquisition was another expensive affair but worth every credit. It¡¯s a dynamic mural of a bioluminescent coral reef, stretching half the length of the common room. The fish shimmer, the coral pulses with soft light, and sometimes, I swear I can hear the distant sound of the ocean. It¡¯s the closest I¡¯ve felt to ¡®home¡¯ in years.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. The utensils¡­ Ah, the utensils. I managed to locate a master craftsman selling hand-forged titanium cutlery. The handles are a polished, dark wood with inlaid accents of what they call ¡®stardust¡¯ ¨C tiny fragments of crystallized meteor. They are beautiful and almost too nice to use on nutrient paste. Almost. I also splurged on an induction cooktop. I''m going to learn to make actual meals, dammit! No more paste unless absolutely necessary. Entry 3: Cycle 801, Sol Standard The past few cycles were a blur of trading, and the Phoenix felt more like a frantic workspace than a haven. This break, though, has been blissful. The ¡°Scent-Sculptor¡± is earning its keep. I''ve been experimenting with different blends. The spice markets of Cygnus-9 left some potent aromas clinging to the cargo bay. Now, I¡¯ve got it set to a ¡°Mountain Spring¡± blend, complete with the faint smell of pine needles and cold water. The air feels fresh when I wake up, I can breath deep. I also added some cushions to the common area. They¡¯re made of a memory foam material that conforms to my shape, and the covers are a soft, velvety weave in a deep, calming blue. They make the hard benches feel inviting. And the best part? I spent the last two days cooking! I managed to whip up a passable version of ''Spicy Noodles'' with the induction cooktop. Using the hand-forged utensils made every bite feel special. The simple act of stirring a pot on a real stove, cutting vegetables with a proper knife¡­ feels almost meditative. Entry 4: Cycle 815, Sol Standard The Phoenix is feeling¡­ different now. It¡¯s still a workhorse, but it¡¯s also¡­mine. I''ve started calling it the "Cozy Phoenix." I spent some of my profits on personalized lighting. The standard ship lights are harsh. I found a set of adjustable colored lamps that create soft pools of light. Right now, I have them set to a warm amber. It makes the holographic reef look like it''s bathed in late afternoon sunlight, and the whole ship feels calmer. The latest upgrade: A collection of small datapads filled with audiobooks and classic Terran music. I''ve been listening to old blues on my down time, and I have to say that I''m loving it! It¡¯s simple, but sitting by the holo reef, under the soft light, with the "Mountain Spring" scent wafting through the air and the voice of a long-dead singer in my ears¡­ it¡¯s pure bliss. The Phoenix is more than just a ship now. She''s home. A cozy, slightly eccentric home, but home nonetheless. Radio Entry 1 The hum of the Phoenix is almost a lullaby today. Engines purring steady, life support doing its thing, and me¡­ well, I¡¯m just here. Been a while since a day like this, a real honest-to-goodness quiet day. Last few weeks were a blur of haggling on Cyrillus Prime, dodging asteroid fields by the skin of my teeth, and then a rather¡­ volatile negotiation with those slug-like beings on Xylos. I feel like I haven¡¯t had a solid breath in weeks. Today? Nothing. Zip. Nada. The comms are silent, the cargo hold is thankfully full and secured, and even the navigational computer seems to be taking a nap. I haven¡¯t even bothered to check the market reports - the idea of thinking about credits right now is enough to make my head swim. I brewed a pot of that synthetic space-coffee, you know, the one that tastes vaguely like burnt caramel and regret, and settled into my bunk. Just listened to the low thrum of the ship and the faint hiss of recycled air. It was¡­ nice. Surprisingly so. I wonder when "nice" became a novelty. Entry 2 Woke up to the same comforting silence. Decided to be productive-ish and did a quick inventory of the hydroponics bay. The genetically-modified space tomatoes are thriving, more than I can say for myself some days. I even spotted a tiny bud on one of the spice plants - I¡¯m still not entirely sure how that thing is alive in zero-g. It¡¯s a testament to the genius (and desperation) of early space agriculture, I suppose.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Then I did something almost unheard of for me ¨C I tuned into the deep space radio. You never know what you''ll find. Today it was a station broadcasting old Earth music from, I think, the 20th century? Something called "bluegrass." A series of stringed instruments playing with incredible speed. It was¡­ odd. So different from the synthesized beats and drone music most folks listen to out here. It made me think about earth, about forests, about things I can''t even really remember. I listened for a good few hours, letting the strange sound fill the ship, almost like a phantom crew jamming in the galley. Entry 3 The quiet stretches out, almost palpable now. I''m starting to get¡­ used to it. Maybe a little too used to it. I¡¯ve been going through the old data logs, the ones I¡¯ve collected from various trading runs over the last few years. I stumbled across some holos from a market fair on the Outer Rim, faces I can barely place anymore. It¡¯s strange to see myself laughing in the holo, surrounded by the chaotic energy of a busy marketplace. Feels like a lifetime ago. The radio was playing what I think was an old romance today. They used to make these stories about falling in love, all poetic speeches and dramatic gestures. It¡¯s almost comical how much it differs from the gruff exchanges and transactional relationships you usually get out here. I wonder if any of those old feelings still exist, out here amongst the stars. Probably not. Still, it''s entertaining to listen to. I think¡­ I think I¡¯ll listen to the radio again tomorrow. Maybe I¡¯ll even try that burned caramel space-coffee again. Though, I really miss the taste of real coffee. The Phoenix is a good ship. A quiet ship. For now, that¡¯s exactly what I need. Entry 4 Comms flickered to life - a distress signal. A small freighter, way off course. Seems like the quiet is over. Time to get back to work¡­ Distress Signal Entry 1 The Phoenix shuddered awake from its slow-burn cycle. The sensors finally pinged a legitimate distress signal, not just the usual cosmic chaff. A freighter, designation ''Ironclad Wanderer'', was limping along near the Gathos Rim. Their comms were a mess of static and panicked squeals, but the gist was clear ¨C critical fuel shortage, systems failing. Standard salvage rights applied, but I wasn¡¯t keen to just leave them to drift. My old girl needed the work, and I wasn¡¯t made of stone. Figured I could make a decent mark-up on the fuel I had left. Engaged thrusters and set course. Watched the Wanderer grow larger on the viewscreen ¨C a battered hulk, clearly seen better days. Their distress signal was almost screaming by the time we docked. The crew looked like they¡¯d seen a few too many nebulae without a cup of synth-coffee. Haggard faces, eyes wide with fatigue and a hint of desperation. They were practically falling over themselves when I offered them fuel. We negotiated terms quickly after that. Their credits weren''t great, but the premium they were willing to pay for the jump-juice was hefty. Added to that, they were willing to sell a surprising large portion of their cargo at a steal. Seemed they¡¯d been hauling some sort of pre-processed ore they had no more use for. I quickly agreed. More than enough to make the trip worthwhile and put a few extra credits in my pocket. Felt a pang of something akin to satisfaction when I saw the relief wash over them. They were a lucky bunch. Entry 2 Docked at station Zeta-9. The marketplace was buzzing. Made a solid deal with the Xylos mining conglomerate. They were willing to pay above-average rates for that ore the Wanderer was desperate to sell. Seems they needed it for some specialized alloy. Sometimes being at the right place at the right time pays off, more often than not. I love the thrill of trading. It''s a high, better than any synth stimulant. Okay, here are some diary entries capturing your day, from the perspective of a space trader with a bit of an edge: Entry 3 The day started much like any other ¨C the hum of the Phoenix''s engines, the endless black canvas outside the viewport, and the monotonous beep of the comms array. Then the encrypted message came, the one from Kael. I¡¯ve dealt with him a few times now, always¡­ let''s call it ¡®mutually beneficial¡¯. This time it was a rush job: ''Urgent need, transport, high value.'' The kind of language that screams ¡®mercenaries.¡¯ And that¡¯s exactly what they were when they appeared on my holoscreen for the initial parlay. Hunkered in their power exosuits, faces like carved stone, all sharp angles and cold resolve. Not exactly the chatty sort, but the credits made it worth my while. They need immediate transit to some backwater planet drowning in a civil war. Fine by me. I''m not picky; I just move freight. They are aboard, crammed into the Hydra and Mule cargo ships, and now under my wing. Their fragile flesh inside my steel cages. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! Entry 5 The jump went smoothly, no unexpected spatial anomalies, thankfully. I''m now approaching the contested system. And, to no surprise, what looks like a blocking force has emerged. Their fleets look heavily salvaged, no doubt a mercenary band. Knowing its just a commissioned force I decide to proceed. I was informed the rebels have no substantial fleet, mostly heavily d modded ships. The government tied down most of their forces anyway. My frigates, and phoenix should be enough to make the trade. As they emerge from the asteroid field I send my frigates into a light escort mode near the cargo transports. I piloted the Phoenix to take the lead with Claw, and bite covering my engines. The enemy send a lot of fighter jets, than any really threat. They are small crafts, designed to cripple weapon and engine systems. They likely just want to slow us down. My Mining drones are released and dog fights with them. My point defense handles the rest. Noticing their fleet is really just composed of carriers, I charge ahead, frigates following closely. Its in this moment I think back. My contact, Kael, assured me that these mercenaries wouldn''t risk my ships or my life. In the off chance they rebel, I can seal the holds or release airlocks. Their life is in my hands. After crippling a carrier and a few frigates, I see a weakness in their formation and charge out. Creating a path for my transports. I have no desire to engage in a full conflict. Entry 5 The skirmish was¡­ efficient. I''ll give them that. I managed to cripple a few of their fighters, turned two of their carriers to flaming debris, before warping out of their formation. Nothing too dramatic, just enough to make a point. I didn''t lose any of my own ships, and I made it clear who''s in control. I watched the tactical screen. As I warped away I could see the mercenaries¡¯ transport ships, like lambs caught in the headlights, realizing how fragile their transport was compared to my war driven ships. A strange kind of pride swelled inside me to witness that moment. The irony is that these ''soldiers'' are more reliant on me than I am on them. It made me smile. I am getting them to their location, alive. Their lives in my hands, dependent on the whims of my ship and my crew. There¡¯s a certain satisfaction in that. Entry 6 Cargo Bay, Planetfall Planetfall was anticlimactic. A desolate and hostile landscape, the war-torn planet below us. The mercenaries disembarked, all terse nods and serious expressions, their exosuits disappearing into the chaotic landscape. The contact on the ground confirmed the transaction. The promised credits have already arrived in my account. Another job done, no questions asked. I¡¯m already setting a course for the next trading hub. There''s a long list of potential clients waiting. I need to check my ship diagnostics and check if the mercenaries left behind any unwanted software or tracking devices. My Phoenix is more than just a ship; it¡¯s my mobile fortress, and I intend to keep it that way. Somnus Nullified Diary Entry 1 Another cycle, another set of docking procedures. Today it was the Mule and the Hydra, both belching their usual cargo-hold symphony. The Mule was carrying mining equipment destined for Kepler-186f, bulky crates that I had to personally supervise being transferred. The Hydra, well, it was the usual mishmash ¨C processed protein, hydroponic supplies, and some questionable looking synth-leather that smelled vaguely of burnt rubber. I swear, sometimes I think we''re running the galaxy''s equivalent of a used-goods market. Later, the Tanker arrived. Fuel transfer was thankfully uneventful. It¡¯s a silent, hulking beast, a floating reservoir that keeps us going. We¡¯d be nothing without her. It made me think about the fragility of this whole operation. We''re so far from everything, reliant on these clunky ships. A new device came out. They¡¯re calling it ¡°Somnus Nullified¡±. A little implant, they say, that completely eliminates the need for sleep. I was on comms with the Atlas rep, a jittery fellow named Jax. He was rattling off the supposed benefits: increased productivity, enhanced alertness, more time for research ¨C blah, blah, blah. He glossed over the side effects, but I pulled up the data logs on my console. They were right there; everything from mild headaches and eye strain to¡­ well, let¡¯s just say there were reported cases of short-term memory loss and increased aggression. Jax finally coughed and mentioned that there could be "occasional instances of enhanced sensory perception and fleeting hallucinations." Fleeting hallucinations. Right. Still, the potential was¡­ significant. If these things work as advertised, entire shifts could be extended, cargo processing times could be slashed, research could be accelerated tenfold. I bartered hard, exchanging some of our rarer minerals for a handful of the Somnus Nullifiers. Jax tried to bump the price - typical. We settled on a reasonable exchange. I logged off feeling strangely¡­ excited. I told myself it was just about increasing efficiency. But honestly, I wanted to try one myself. I¡¯m¡­ exhausted. We all are. Diary Entry 2 (4 Hours Later) The rest of the cycle seemed to drag on forever. Every creak of the hull, every flicker of the monitor was magnified. I kept re-reading the Somnus Nullified specs. It¡¯s supposed to be a localized neural-stimulant with a carefully calibrated suppression field. Seems simple on paper. I¡¯d set aside one of the devices in my personal console drawer, out of view of the crew. They think I''m a paragon of rest and routine. Let them.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. My official reason is that we needed to test its efficacy. Strictly scientific, and all that. I kept telling myself that. But I haven¡¯t slept more than 6 hours in days. The pull of the void, the endless maintenance, the sheer weight of responsibility¡­ It felt heavier than normal today. Diary Entry 3 - (24 Hours Later) The implant¡­ is in. I did it just after my shift ended, and before I could rationalize myself out of it. The procedure was simple enough; a small incision on the back of my neck, one click, and done. Initially, it felt like a low hum inside my head. The rest of the crew was sound asleep. It¡¯s been 24 hours, and I feel¡­ wired. The world is sharper. I can hear the faint whirring of the ventilation systems as if they are right next to my head. The colors on my monitor seem almost too intense. I¡¯ve been going through old logs, cross-referencing research data, and I''ve cataloged all of it in record time. I haven¡¯t even taken a lunch break. There''s almost no fatigue. It¡¯s astonishing. I feel like I could just keep going. I¡¯ve been keeping an eye out for the side effects the logs warned about. A slight headache, yes, and my vision keeps shimmering at the edges, but nothing too terrible. Mostly, though, it''s just¡­ clarity. Pure, uninterrupted focus. It¡¯s almost addictive. Diary Entry 4 - (48 Hours Later) It''s been a full 48 hours now. The world is a kaleidoscope of sensation. I''m hyper-aware of everything, almost overwhelmingly so. The hum in my head is a constant companion, and I''ve noticed the "fleeting hallucinations" Jax mentioned. Mostly just shadows moving in my peripheral vision, and the occasional impression that someone is staring at me from behind closed doors. I haven''t felt sleepy once, not even a yawn, but my body is starting to feel the strain. My muscles ache, and I can feel a tension building behind my eyes. The productivity is off the charts, but at what cost? I¡¯ve completed tasks that would normally take days. I¡¯ve reviewed all of the navigation charts for our next passage. It¡¯s all done, finished. But now I feel utterly exhausted, even with this thing humming in my neck. I''m going to remove it. Now. There''s no more research that can be done here, at least not by me, while I am in this state. I am also starting to genuinely hear voices now, very, very distantly, but it is just enough to finally motivate me to take this awful thing out. Perhaps a little sleep won¡¯t be a bad thing after all. I need it, desperately as it feels now. Autopilot Rigid - Crew Needed 0700 Local Ship Time The hum of the Phoenix is a constant companion, a low thrum that vibrates through my bones. The auto-pilot, bless its rigid circuits, keeps us on course, a straight line through the void toward¡­ well, toward our next point of call. But straight lines, I''m finding, aren''t always the best when you need to account for¡­ well, everything. It''s efficient, I suppose, but lacks the nuance, the soul a living crew brings. It¡¯s a machine, and I need eyes, hands that can see the small things. I¡¯ve been spending too much time fussing over logs and system checks. It¡¯s time to get organized. 1100 Local Ship Time First round of interviews this morning. Mostly engineers, drawn by the promise of working on something¡­well, not another transport freighter. A few decent candidates, and I think I have a line on a maintenance chief. A woman named Anya, a former shipyard mechanic. Smart, sharp, and doesn''t blanch when I talk about the Phoenix needing to be ¡®tiptop¡¯. Also interviewed three prospects for the log-keeper position. One was too green, the second seemed more interested in the food synthesizer inventory, and the last¡­well, I think I might have found my match. Quiet, organized, keeps records with impressive detail. She asked about the history of the Phoenix, not just its current configuration. I like that. 1400 Local Ship Time Reviewing the readiness reports for the Hydra, Mule, and Tanker. They''re running as expected. I¡¯ve made a note to make the automated reports a little more¡­ digestible. They just drone on with so much detail that''s not relevant. Honestly, I barely skim them now. The autopilot can handle it. The maintenance, and log keeping is honestly just to make sure we are making the most credits we can. Not back logged by space, and two; We are combat ready. Don''t underestimate this. If my point defense systems are a second slower, due to an old circuit, a missile will get through. It''s high time I did this. I only have enough time to do everything on my own.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. 1800 Local Ship Time Anya¡¯s been touring the Phoenix¡¯s engine room with a handful of maintenance droids, giving them a thorough once-over. I watched for a bit. The way she moved around the machinery¡­ effortless, like she could feel the ship¡¯s pulse. The log keeper, Elara, is already setting up her station, organizing data streams. She gave me a look when I brought up the need for her to also monitor maintenance logs. A look that said ¡°Duh. Of course I am.¡± I like her. 2100 Local Ship Time Dinner with Anya and Elara in the mess. The conversation ranged from the metallurgy of the Phoenix''s hull to the optimal data storage protocols for multi-faceted sensor feeds. It''s good. Really good. I can feel the weight lifting off my shoulders. They get it, the importance of a finely tuned, responsive ship. I know the Phoenix is old. I¡¯m going to treat her like she¡¯s the most advanced ship in the galaxy, and that she''s going to win any fight we get into. 2300 Local Ship Time Just before I turned in, I wandered out to the observation deck. The stars are a glittering tapestry, reminding me of the scale of it all. I''m no longer just a captain piloting a starship. I''m building a team, a crew. And that''s¡­ more than I could have hoped for. I still need to work on crew for my light frigates. But that¡¯s tomorrow. For now, sleep. And for the first time in a while, I feel¡­ confident. The Phoenix is in good hands. And that¡¯s all that matters right now. Estimates of New Profit in Trade. Current Location: Docked at the Orbital Market Hub, Epsilon Cygni VII Vessel Status: Market Analysis: The Cygni cluster continues to be a volatile beast. As usual, the market is saturated with traders looking for arbitrage opportunities. The competition is fierce, but opportunities are there if you know where to look and are willing to move fast. The major players are using sophisticated algorithms to constantly sniff out the best deals, but there''s always a little bit that slips through the cracks. My contacts are proving worth their weight in credits. Recent Market Fluctuations: Key Findings & Planned Operations: Commodity One: Nervidium: Commodity Two: Cryo-Gel:A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Total Cargo Plan: Actions:
  1. Confirm Purchase from "Whisper": Will send a secure comms message immediately. Confirm the pickup location and quantity. Prepare the transfer of funds.
  2. Interception of The Wanderer: Will confirm location and prepare for the transfer of the cargo.
  3. Prepare Escort Fleet: Brief the frigates on the planned routes and potential threats in the Ophion and Triangulum clusters. Ensure weapons and armour are maintained well.
  4. Fuel Up: Ensure all vessels are topped off with fuel before departing.
  5. Departure: Plan to leave at first light for the Ophion, then on to Triangulum, will then go and meet The Wanderer. Finally heading for Zeta Aurigae.
Finances: Closing Thoughts: The risks are there, but the potential reward justifies the move. A good day''s work could turn into a very profitable one. Need to keep the crew sharp and the sensors even sharper. There are always eyes on anyone making big moves. End Transmission. Trade Log Entry 1: Entry 2: Entry 3: Entry 4:This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Entry 5: End of Log. Making more Profit Entry 1: Market Scan - Initial Assessment The comm unit buzzed, displaying the latest market fluctuations across the sector. Five major routes were showing potential: the Rimward Run (to Xylos), the Coreward Conduit (to Veridium), the Fringe Frontier (to Cygnus), the Nexus Transit (to Altair), and the Peripheral Passage (to Kepler-186f). Rimward was saturated with basic ore, prices tanking. Coreward was showing steady demand for refined alloys, but transport was costly due to pirate activity. The Fringe Frontier had some unique biological components, but their volatility made me hesitant. Nexus Transit was a steady route but I would need to haggle. And, Peripheral Passage was slow but had a high potential for a deal on tech scrap Entry 2: Haggle - Nexus Transit I focused on the Nexus Transit route, specifically the Altair market. I''d seen a listing for high-grade processor components. The listed price was 425 credits per unit. I sent a transmission, offering 380, citing the minor transport risks and the increased supply in the last cycle. The Altairian trader, a Glarvian named Zyl, countered at 410. Zyl, I knew, preferred a quick sale, so I pushed back, pointing out the slight damage on the heat sinks, offering 395. He agreed with a sigh, muttering something about "pushy humans." I locked in a deal for 1,500 units and 592,500 of credits. Entry 3: Haggle - Peripheral Passage Next, I shifted my focus to the Peripheral Passage and the Kepler-186f market. Their listing of tech scrap had my interest. I saw a lot of old fusion regulators, not worth much but I could repurpose them. The scrap dealer, a gruff Krill named Tharr, wanted 200 credits for 1000 regulators. I started by pointing out the outdated protocols and the risk of radiation leakage, bringing my offer down to 120. Tharr growled, citing the value of exotic parts . I countered with 150 and the promise of future trade. He grudgingly accepted, griping about undercutting, and I paid 150,000 credits for the lot.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. Entry 4: Declined Trades I passed on the Rimward Run to Xylos. The low ore prices were not worth the fuel and I was short time. Coreward was showing potential with the alloys but I wasn''t in the mood to risk pirates, and the Fringe Frontier''s biological components were too unpredictable for my risk tolerance today. Entry 5: End of Day Profit Total trades for the day were 742,500 credits. I estimated net profit after fuel and maint costs were 360,000. I¡¯ll need to keep an eye on the volatility of the biological components. Tomorrow is another day to trade again. Decision-Making Explanation: End of Log. Ambush Report Transaction Summary: Operational Report: The delivery to Jaxx was meant to be straightforward. The agreed upon route was lightly patrolled, and in my experience, Trader-7 Alpha had always provided reliable intel. On this occasion he has proven to be a liar. Upon entering sector Gamma-Nine, the Phoenix was ambushed by an unknown pirate band operating at least 7 frigates, I have identified these as heavily modified Raven class. The suddenness of the attack suggests that Jaxx provided the location and possibly even our ship¡¯s operational data. My fleet was prepared, though we were expecting a routine delivery, and not a fight. Our five frigates, Claw, Tear, Bite, and Rip, led by Captains Kai, Viper, Jax, and Rhys, respectively, along with the Phoenix, moved to defensive positions. Battle Log: Conclusion:Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. Today¡¯s operation was a near catastrophe due to the betrayal of Trader-7 Alpha. The ambush suggests a level of planning and intel that goes beyond standard pirate activity. The fact our capabilities were so clearly targeted, speaks volumes as to the source of that intel. I might have to get my revenge on Jaxx. Rylan Voss. Phoenix Browsing Ships Subject: Re-evaluation of Tactical Doctrine & Capital Ship Acquisition Log Entry: The recent engagement with the pirate band proved¡­ costly. While we secured a victory, it was far from clean. We encountered three pirate cruisers, supported by a swarm of frigates - a configuration we are ill-equipped to handle efficiently. The Phoenix and her sister frigates, Bite, Claw, Tear, Rip, Raptor, fought bravely, but the focus fire from the cruisers was brutal. Our five frigates managed to cripple two of theirs, but only after absorbing considerable damage. Using the Asteroids from their training, they avoiding most of the fire. After all frigates don''t generally need point defence since they are fast and small. The Phoenix herself took a near-crippling blow to her port engine nacelle, requiring emergency repairs. If the enemy had different intel. If I had not bought a makeshift generator. If I had not ordered Anya to better integrate it within the system, making a smoother overload bear in the ambush. I, no we all could have died. A Disastrous outcome. It is clear now that our current fleet composition is inadequate for engaging larger, more organized pirate threats. I thought it was enough to protect Hydra, Mule and Tanker. Which is was, unless specifically targeted like this. The fleet lacks the punch and tactical flexibility required for these more serious confrontations. The concept of an effective supporting vessel capable of pushing our advantages and negating theirs was brought into sharp focus. The Missing Piece: The Phoenix, while capable in a brawl, was hampered. Supporting the frigates meant splitting my attention and resources between protecting them from the smaller pirate vessels and engaging the larger cruisers. If I had a carrier at my disposal, this entire engagement would have unfolded differently. I could have used the carrier''s fighter complement to harass the cruisers, divert their fire, and even out-maneuver them. The anti-fighter screen they provide would allow my frigates to more freely engage the support ships without having to look over their shoulder. In essence, it could have acted like a highly mobile, armored, force multiplier. New Directive:If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. The conclusion is undeniable: we need a carrier. A capital ship that can act as a mobile base, provide aerial dominance, and project power far beyond what our frigates are capable of. Immediately upon return to Port, I''ve initiated the process of carrier acquisition. Preliminary budget requests have been filed, and I¡¯ve devoted a significant amount of my off-duty hours to reviewing available specifications. Carrier Selection - Holographic Catalogues: The options, as presented on the fleet procurement network, are numerous. I''ve spent hours on the hologram, sifting through the various models. It¡¯s immediately apparent that not all carriers are created equal: Fighter Analysis: Next Steps: I will need to analyze our existing logistical capabilities and personnel requirements in relation to each carrier class. The ''Goliath'' is tempting, but its size might be prohibitive without a significant budgetary boost. The ''Zephyr''s'' fragility is a concern, and in our current state, the ''Bastion'' seems like the most logical choice. I am going to order more intelligence on the systems for which each carrier is best suited to maximize efficacy. Carrier Ship Entry 1: Day 1 - The Carrier Catalog The market is buzzing, or rather, the datalinks are humming. Finally diving into the carrier market. 200,000 credits burning a hole in my pocket. It''s both thrilling and terrifying. Three contenders are really catching my eye with their advertised builds: the behemoth Goliath, the agile Zephyr, and the well-rounded Bastion. Goliath is tempting, honestly. A true heavyweight, practically a mobile fortress. All those armor plates... the thought of just plodding into a fight and daring anyone to challenge me is¡­ appealing. But his maneuverability is abysmal. The Zephyr, on the other hand, is a beauty. So sleek and fast. It promises rapid deployments and hit-and-run tactics, which I can get behind, but the hull strength looks like tissue paper in a storm. The Bastion seems the most sensible choice. Decent armor rating, middling speed, but it¡¯s all about balance. Good weapon slots too. I need to look up what fighters it can carry. Researching... Entry 2: Day 2 - Fighter Options and Bastion Leanings The fighter list is extensive! I¡¯m looking for something that can complement what the Bastion has to offer. The Bastion has three swarm capacity. Reading that it can hold Sentinels. I''ve been reading on the Sentinel variants. The Vanguard is a melee monster, perfect for brawling. The interceptor is quick and great for taking down fast-moving targets. Lastly, the support variant will provide armour and protection to the Vanguard and interceptors. The Bastion is winning me over. Three swarm slots feel right for the kind of engagements I''ll likely be facing. It¡¯s not about overkill, it''s about sustainability. Plus, I hear its internal repair systems are rather robust. That''s a big plus when I am in a pinch. The Zephyr might be tempting for some, but I¡¯m not a pilot who likes to run and hide. The Goliath, while cool, feels like I''d be piloting a planetoid. It just wouldn''t suit me.You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. Entry 3: Day 3 - Haggling Time Time to seal the deal. I found a Bastion dealer who has a slightly used model that''s still in near-mint condition. The initial asking price is 180,000 credits. A bit steep for a used ship I feel, so I offered 165,000, pointing out some minor wear on the dorsal plating. The seller countered with 175,000 credits, adding in a set of upgraded shields to sweeten the deal. We finally settled on 170,000 credits, including the upgraded shields, a basic sensor package, and a full load of fuel. I''ve got 30k left for fighters so I am calling that a win! It was exhausting, but I feel like I got a fair deal. The seller also went over the maintenance logs and confirmed it is in good shape. This feels so real¡­ I am the captain of my own ship! Entry 4: Day 4 - Fighter Selection - Sentinel Swarm The Bastion''s hangar is ready, and it¡¯s time to pick fighters. I''ve decided on three Sentinel swarms. I initially was going to split the squad with different fighters, but the synergy of the Sentinels, is hard to pass up. The Vanguard will be my main assault force. They¡¯re tough and able to get in close and dish out damage. I can easily send them in when I feel I am in a tight spot. The Interceptor will be doing what it does best, taking out quick targets for the Vanguard. The support will be backing them up with extra shields. Each Sentinel will have their role to play, and I believe they will be versatile enough to handle most of the situations that I will encounter. Now I feel a bit more assured encountering more pirate fleets. The carrier can even guard the cargo ships, to an extent. They are equipped with a bunch of salamanders (tracks engines), harpoons (heavy hitting armour), and breaches (smaller hits for armour, but more numerous). Doesn''t strain the power core, which is used for more speed. It will free up the frigates to do more damage. Bounty Hunters Entry 1 The clang of metal on metal is finally starting to fade. The repair crews¡ªbless their greasy, tireless souls¡ªhave done a remarkable job. Phoenix, my old girl, is patched up and purring like a contented space-cat. They even managed to salvage some of the targeting systems that took a hit during that¡­incident. Hydra and Mule, blessedly, came out unscathed. It¡¯s a good thing they¡¯re built like space-turtles. The tanker, we¡¯re just calling it ¡®The Tanker¡¯ at the moment, is full to the brim, thank the gods. And even the Light frigates are back in fighting trim, all their little laser cannons looking sharp. We''ve finally given the Carrier-class its name: Wraith. Feels right, somehow. A silent, deadly presence, watching over us. The Sentinel fighters are all snug in their bays, fueled and ready. I swear I can feel the energy crackling off them. We''ve been through¡­ a lot, lately. It¡¯s hard sometimes to believe what we¡¯ve faced and survived. So many close calls, so much combat. The adrenaline still courses through me some nights, even though we''re back to the relative calm of deep space. It''s made me think. All this combat experience¡­it¡¯s actually worth something. A lot, maybe. Entry 2 The idea has taken hold now. Bounty hunting. I just want to browse, see how much credits can be made from this sort of thing. I started digging through the network tonight, reading everything I could find. Holo-books, old forums, even some encrypted channels. There¡¯s a whole world out there, a completely different kind of ¡®game¡¯. The intricacies are fascinating. Tracking down skips, deciphering encrypted comms, learning alien languages to understand local gossip¡­and the risk! It¡¯s a high-stakes dance with danger. One wrong move, and you¡¯re not just losing a cargo shipment, you''re losing everything. And the pay¡­ it varies wildly. One day you¡¯re hauling in enough credits for a half-dozen starships, the next you''re chasing shadows for weeks, only to come up empty. Entry 3 I spent most of the day in the sim pods, trying out some combat maneuvers I¡¯d seen in those bounty hunter videos. They¡¯re¡­ impressive. Aggressive, calculated. Nothing like the defensive tactics we¡¯ve been using. I even tried a few of those ¡®trick¡¯ maneuvers, using gravity wells to dodge fire. Crashed into a simulated asteroid field twice. Still, I can see myself¡­ being good at it. Dangerous. But the more I read, the more I see the pitfalls. The betrayal, the backstabbing, the constant looking over your shoulder. It¡¯s not like trading, where things are relatively predictable. It¡¯s chaotic. It¡¯s a life where you¡¯re constantly on the edge. I¡¯ve seen what that does to people. Okay. I¡¯ve decided. Bounty Hunting is¡­ out, for now. Maybe someday, when I¡¯m old and grey and have nothing to lose, I¡¯ll revisit the idea. But not now. Not while I have a crew to look after, and a trade route to keep running. There¡¯s a good solid future in the lanes, and I can still make a life for myself, a good life. I do however, have a craving to watch some the other bounty hunters on the hologram. Entry 4 I''m glued to the holo-wall, though. The Red Wolves are in action again. It''s the Stardust Drifter, that scarred-up bucket of bolts they call a ship, against some poor sod in a freighter. No shields. None. Not for years. It''s a dance of angles and thrust, precise burns that make you think they¡¯ve pre-calculated the whole thing in their heads. The Drifter dances around the freighter like a predator, all sharp edges and hidden maneuvering thrusters. They don''t even bother with energy weapons. Kinetic rounds, railgun slugs, that''s their style. Raw power. It''s brutal, beautiful, and makes you feel every impact on the holographic projection.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. The way they move, they work as one. Like, well, a pack of wolves. No grandstanding, no wasted movements. Three ships, each with its own role: one to distract, one to flank, the Drifter to deliver the kill shot. They move with a kind of savage grace that''s mesmerizing. I keep wondering what it''s like inside those ships, the level of awareness, the telepathic bond that must exist. They¡¯re not just pilots; they¡¯re extensions of the machines. It¡¯s a terrifying and intoxicating thought all at once. I need to study their maneuvers. Maybe there''s a formula behind their madness. Entry 5 Spent the cycle obsessing over the Drifter. I''ve got access to the historical schematics ¨C old tech, really, even back in its day ¨C but they''ve modified it beyond recognition. Razor-thin armor, almost no sensors, all the internal space dedicated to a massive power core for their weapons and thrusters. It''s like they¡¯ve stripped it down to the bone, making it faster, more agile, more deadly. The other two are similar, but less heavily armed. They move like escorts, herding the prey into the Drifter¡¯s jaws. Then there''s the Night Howler, the second ship of the Red Wolves, a smaller and faster variant with long, spindly arms that extend forward, like a praying mantis. I suspect those are for grappling and disabling drives. It gives me chills to think of being on the receiving end of one of those. Pure, cold efficiency. It''s not flashy, it''s just effective. The third ship, The Shadow, is almost impossible to track, constantly blinking in and out of our system''s scanner. No armour, just speed and stealth. It feels like watching ghosts. I saw a close up today showing how that kinetic weaponry actually works. No laser beams. Just slugs of hardened metal travelling at ridiculous speeds. They hit like a sledgehammer. It¡¯s a reminder that in this era, the laws of physics are the only laws that truly matter. Entry 6 My access to the holofeed is limited now as their actions are getting too violent for general public viewing. I can however still access old archive footage. I watched them take down a rogue corporate transport. The ferocity was breathtaking. They didn''t just disable the ship; they systematically dismantled it. Piece by piece, module by module, the Drifter¡¯s kinetic rounds punched through the hull, crippling systems one after another until the whole thing was a floating wreck. I''m starting to understand their philosophy. Shields made people complacent. The reliance on energy and deflections made for soft targets. By going without, by embracing the kinetic, they¡¯ve forced themselves, and their enemies, to get better, to be faster, more agile, more brutal. The holographic projection doesn''t just show the battle; it teaches a lesson. A harsh, violent lesson that feels like it¡¯s written in blood and fire. I am starting to feel they are no longer just bounty hunters anymore. They¡¯re teachers of a new fighting style. A dangerous one. The holofeed cuts to a static screen now, followed by a mandatory corporate announcement, something about keeping order. Order, in this galaxy? I''d much rather watch the Wolves. I¡¯m going to have to get my own holoscreen. Maybe find a way to get some more detailed information. This is more than just a spectacle, it¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s a revolution. I need to understand it. Entry 7 I¡¯ve managed to get a private feed now. No corporate oversight. The images are sharper, the sound¡­ visceral. I saw the lead of the pack. The pilot of the Drifter, known only as ¡°Runa¡±. She moved like a wraith, adjusting the ship with small movements, the entire machine an extension of her will. Her face was hidden in the cockpit glare, but I saw her eyes, cold and calculating, even on the scan. In that moment, I understood that this wasn''t just a job for them. It was a way of life. I¡¯m starting to design my own¡­ well, not a ship, but rather a simulator. I want to see if I can replicate the Wolves¡¯ movements. Learn their methods. I¡¯ve been using my new holodisplay and have managed to load in all the data I could find on their ships. I''m mapping their trajectories, the way they utilize their thrust and momentum. I can almost feel the way they move and in the darkness of my own space. Phoenix could use some extra thrusters though. Schematics of Phoenix Diary Entry 1: The Skeleton ¨C From Hauler to Brute Schematic Overview of Phoenix The structural refit... Gods, that was a beast. Looking at the Phoenix now, you''d never guess she spent cycles hauling ore. In the past I took the old cargo bays, reinforced the internal framework with layers of durasteel and some surprisingly effective salvaged plasteel composites. It''s all about force distribution now; the old lines have been re-routed, channeling impact towards the core, where it can be absorbed. It''s more...solid than it was. No longer a gentle, swaying barge, she feels like a fist. Recently due to the cargo, wraith provides, we shaved down the excess mass, streamlining Phoenix silhouette, giving her a leaner, meaner edge. The engineers muttered a lot about ¡®kinetic resonance dampeners,¡¯ I just know the whole frame vibrates less when we do hard burns. She feels like she''s ready to take a beating, before delivering one. Diary Entry 2: The Fangs ¨C Kinetic Prowess The ''Fangs,'' as they call them. Two massive electromagnetic rail launchers mounted on the fore. These aren''t the standard railguns that spew hot plasma. These kinetic rounds to rip through armour. It''s less power reliant. These weapons aren''t for shields, no, these are for kinetic penetration. My recent engineers have calculated that those projectiles can punch through even the thickest armour plating- especially with the way we''re routing power directly from auxiliary capacitor banks. We''re not looking to ignite, we''re looking to shatter. We tested them today on a derelict hulk and... well, the damage was¡­ spectacular. It wasn''t clean, it was brutal. I think I''m starting to like this Brawler role she''s taken. Diary Entry 3: The Skin ¨C Ablative Layers Ablative armour, not the most elegant solution, but effective. Instead of heavy plates, she''s clad in layers of a specialized composite that vaporizes under extreme heat and kinetic impact. Each layer is designed to take the force of a hit and dissipate it. Sort of like scales. Sure, we¡¯ll need to replace the layers in between engagements, but they¡¯re relatively modular, and cheap, good as it is to sacrifice armour instead of internal systems. There''s a peculiar, almost burnt smell to the hull now, something that reminds me of welding. It''s a smell of violence, the Phoenix is becoming a ship of war. I hope, gods, I hope it will be enough.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. Diary Entry 4: The Heart ¨C Modified ThrustersDate: Cycle 239, Sunrise The engines¡­ they¡¯re no longer the workhorses of a cargo vessel. I''ve ripped out the old, low-burn thrusters and installed a pair of modified, high-output plasma drives. They''re not the most fuel efficient, but they give us phenomenal burst speed and maneuverability. Something necessary if we are to get into the thick of things. The engineers call them "Inferno-Class" drives. They make the whole ship tremble when they spool up, and the exhaust plume is terrifying to behold. Makes the Phoenix look like she¡¯s spitting fire, ready to engulf anything in her path. A perfect reflection of her new designation. Diary Entry 5: The Eyes ¨C Enhanced Sensors The sensor suite has gone through a complete overhaul over the years. Gone are the basic scanning arrays for resource deposits, replaced with wide-spectrum, high-resolution sensors, both active and passive. We have long-range targeting sensors linked to the fangs, and close-range threat assessment systems that can track multiple targets simultaneously. They''re sensitive enough to pick up heat signatures and even subtle disturbances in the energy field. I''m going to need to learn how to use all of this new information. It''s a lot more than just ¡®rock here, rock there¡¯. This is battlefield awareness, almost like we are seeing the thoughts of our enemy. Diary Entry 6: The Unseen ¨C Miscellany and Support It''s the little things that make the difference. Over the years I''ve added reinforced internal bulkheads, redundant power systems, and multiple auxiliary fire control stations. There are emergency repair systems to fix minor damage and keep her fighting. And most importantly, I have installed the gravity compensators, now properly calibrated for combat maneuvers which are a lot more aggressive than her previous profession. Even the life support systems are upgraded to handle combat g-forces and stressful situations. It''s the details that make a difference between a ship that survives a battle, and one that becomes a derelict wreck. Diary Entry 7: The Teeth ¨C Point Defense While the Fangs are for major blows, we needed a way to deal with the pests. The Mining drones I picked up are good point defence. The real punch, if they get too close are the four vulcan cannons along the bow and flanks. I have one ballistic of tungeston rods, but they aren''t too accurate. The vulcans are light, rapid-fire, and perfect for shredding incoming missiles and fighter craft. They are also linked into the sensors, and can be put into an auto targeting mode if things get too hairy. It''s a symphony of staccato bursts when they light up, a wall of death against whatever tries to get close. It¡¯s not the main damage dealers, but these are needed. It rounds out the Phoenix, she can strike hard, and she can defend herself. She''s not just a big metal fist anymore, she''s¡­ a brawler, through and through. Just updating on the schematics of Phoenix. Log end. Schematics for Weapons Diary Entries - Weapons Systems Acquisition Log of looking of weapon systems on market Entry 1: Lasers - High Intensity Entry 2: Railguns - Slug Throwers Entry 3: Missile Pods - Guided Kinetic Entry 4: Plasma Cannons - Area of EffectStolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Entry 5: Kinetic Point Defense - Gatling Entry 6: Magnetic Pulse Cannon - Hull Breach Entry 7: Bargaining and Final Decisions Strange Flute Diary Entry 1 The data streams are a sea of their own today, a vast, swirling ocean of trade agreements. I¡¯ve spent the better part of the cycle sifting through them, each projected profit margin a distant, hazy horizon. Most are¡­ underwhelming. A few offer a glimmer, but nothing that truly ignites the ambition. It¡¯s like being a captain poring over outdated nautical charts, where the promise of fortune seems perpetually just out of reach. Frustratingly, it feels like there¡¯s more to glean from the historical logs than these new proposals. There¡¯s a certain¡­ cold precision in the numbers that just doesn''t compare to a good old fashioned gut feeling. Diary Entry 2 Finally! A ripple in the stagnant trade winds. Contacted by old Manx ¨C he¡¯s never been one for polite formalities. Wants a cargo run, hush-hush sort of deal. Nothing too illegal, or so he claims, just¡­ sensitive. A good commission, though, enough to grease the gears and keep the crew fed. He outlined the cargo and the delivery point, some desolate cluster on the rim, barely registered on the charts. The route itself reads like some ancient mariner''s tale. Long, convoluted, and with whispers of pirates. Almost makes me feel nostalgic for less sophisticated times. Diary Entry 3 I''m laying out the manifest, checking systems. The Phoenix, my trusty brawler, feels like a proud, middle-sized galleon. She¡¯ll be the flagship for this voyage. We''ll need her bulk and firepower. Five frigates, those swift Ravens, they''re the scouts, the outriders, darting around the main formation like swallows skimming the waves. And they¡¯ll be armed with a bit more bite than the usual patrol boats. My two cargo freighters - my work horses. These are the vessels at the heart of this journey, akin to the deep-bellied hulks. Finally, the fuel tanker, the lifeline of this venture. She¡¯s the unsung hero, ensuring we don¡¯t get stranded in the cosmic doldrums. Looking out at their collective signatures, displayed on my console, their formation is slowly coming together. It¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s almost beautiful. A fleet, ready to set sail. This must have been how those old captains felt, watching their ships emerge from the fog, ready for adventure. Diary Entry 4You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. Looking at the fleet readiness reports, it''s a strange thing how readily these ships become extensions of our will. The hum reminds me of old sea shanties, a comforting, yet driving sound. The Phoenix cuts through the void like a proud ship heading out to sea. The ravens circle and chase the edges of the galaxy. I almost feel we''re sailing the open ocean on Earth. What a curious thought to have while so far removed from it. Entry 5 The commission for Old Manx finally came through. A digital datapad, sealed and heavily encrypted. We''re to rendezvous with a derelict freighter near the edge of the Kepler-186f system and¡­ retrieve something. Manx wouldn¡¯t say what, just that it was ¡°of great value¡± and ¡°delicate.¡± He looked¡­ almost nervous when he handed me the coordinates, a flicker in his usually impassive eyes. He insisted it wasn¡¯t illegal, just "touchy," which, of course, made me more suspicious. Touchy? What does that even mean in space? Radioactive? Sentient? I''ve heard whispers about Manx, the kind that paints him as a collector of rare and questionable artifacts. I hope we''re not getting ourselves into trouble. Vargas keeps a watchful eye on me, something like a mother hen, maybe she shares my concerns. Entry 6 The rendezvous was¡­ unsettling. The derelict freighter was practically a corpse, half-eaten by asteroid impacts and the vacuum. Inside, the air was thin and stale, like a tomb. We found it in the cargo hold ¨C a large container, humming faintly. It was surprisingly light, though. The datapad had a specific sequence to open it, more of a ritual than a lock. Inside, nested among cushioning material, was¡­ a set of intricately carved bone flutes. They looked¡­ ancient, alien. They radiated an odd warmth. I carefully took one out, turning it over in my hand. It was surprisingly heavy. Old Manx didn''t want this. Why? What is so "touchy" about these things? Vargas ordered us back to the Leviathan immediately, a tense silence hanging in the air. We¡¯re on the way back to the station and no one is talking. Entry 7 Back at base. Old Manx, who was waiting at the docking bay, accepted the container with a strangely subdued expression, no longer the mysterious and intimidating man, but someone who looked troubled. He didn''t say a word after his thank you, disappearing into the depths of the station with his prize. No further explanation about the bizarre flutes. Something about this whole thing feels deeply¡­ off. Anya pulled me aside and said, "Some things are best left unasked, and some waters are too deep to sail." I think I understand what she means, maybe this is what it means to sail the stars- not just the beauty and grandness, but also the quiet mysteries in the dark void. But the flutes. I can''t shake the feeling there''s more to this than meets the eye. I wonder what tune they play if you try to blow one? And what will happen when they start to play? More Smuggling Option 1: Pragmatic, Slightly Jaded Tone Stardate: 2357.10.22 Another day, another comm from a contact. This time it was Kael ¨C his comm signature was practically vibrating with urgency. Apparently, everyone else in his little smuggling ring is either cooling their heels in some correctional facility or sucking down nutrient paste on a resort moon. That leaves me. Me, the "mostly legit" trader who prefers sticking to taxed goods and avoiding spaceport security with a trained sniffer droid. But¡­ the numbers are hard to ignore. The black market prices are always a draw, 30% cheaper on acquisition, which, with these prices are huge in that its 60% more profit at flat rate. And it''s not just me buying at that discount ¨C the contacts on the other end are practically begging for supply, especially out in the Rim sectors. It¡¯s the same old story ¨C places in deficit get hit with supply inflation. Kael¡¯s been yapping about the need for ¡°stimulants¡± in Sector Gamma ever since the mining union''s strike. They''ll pay double, easily. Seems they''re working overtime and underpaid. Kinda sick that. I''ve been studying the charts. The run to the Gamma drop-point is a tad risky, but I¡¯ve got the hidden compartments in Phoenix, Hydra, and Mule ¨C none of them registered, of course. The usual inspection points are predictable anyway. After some haggling, I managed to get Kael to bump up the percentage a bit more. This isn''t a charity operation, even if these guys are desperate. I¡¯m still debating whether it¡¯s worth it; the risk versus return. Usually I avoid this mess, but the credits are almost tempting enough to risk my license. Almost. But for the moment, I made what feels like a calculated gamble of a risk. Stardate: 2357.10.25 The run went as smoothly as one could possibly expect. The customs officials are mostly lazy, the scanners were easily bypassed. the cargo hidden safely in the hidden compartments. I did get a bit jumpy though, there was one official who kept on staring at my ship a bit too long. The drop-off was at the usual dock on the far end of the Gamma station, no problems at all. The whole ordeal was still nerve racking. I guess that''s the rush of it. Stardate 2357.10.28The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. The credits are now flowing into the account. I even invested a good percentage into a high interest account. With all that is said, my contacts are already calling, wanting another delivery, some medicinal herbs. I guess they can''t get enough. I really need to be more strict, I''m burning myself out here, and I still don''t like this whole thing. Its messing up with my reputation, I guess. But I am making money. Which is kinda important with the current economy''s downturn. Option 2: More Anxious, Morally Ambivalent Tone Stardate: 2357.10.22 I hate it when the comm buzzes with a scrambled ID. It means someone is looking for¡­ favors. And "favors" in this business usually translates to hauling something illegal. This time it''s Kael. He sounds like he hasn''t slept in cycles. All his normal runners are either in lockup or ¨C as he put it ¨C ¡°chasing sunbeams on a pleasure planet.¡± So, it comes down to me, the person who carefully files all the paperwork and pays the damn taxes! It''s so wrong, all of it. This black market system is making already bad situations worse. 30% less for a product that is already hard to get, it makes a 60+ % profit at flat rates, which is even more if their economy is already bad. So inflated prices are only going to make it worse, but people are desperate. I know that they would agree that this is morally wrong but... the money though. The lure of the quick credits is a dark siren¡¯s song. I¡¯ve seen what the profits can be like. I know how it can be, I have hidden compartments in Phoenix, Hydra, and Mule that are just... sitting there. I¡¯ve mapped out the Gamma route. It''s a risk, but not an insane one, at least that is what I¡¯m telling myself. I can probably make the drop, get the credits, and maybe even start over. God I am such a hypocrite. I even haggled for a bigger cut. It feels so wrong, even if it is needed with the current crisis. I keep saying next time I won''t do it. But... I''m thinking of those credits. Stardate: 2357.10.25 The flight was awful. Every flicker on the console, every strange noise from the engine sent my heart into my throat. I keep thinking that it was someone coming after me, and the thought is making me shake with anxiety. I barely made eye contact with the port authorities, even if I was sure they were scrutinizing me. I am being too paranoid. Or am I not paranoid enough? The drop off at this run down station passed by as quickly as I can manage. I was so glad to have it done with. Stardate 2357.10.28 The credits are in now. I''m having a hard time really spending it, or putting my head to rest. It just feels like blood money. Kael keeps on calling too, talking about another delivery, this time medicinal herbs. He even offered a slightly bigger cut. Another offer I have been considering, which is... concerning. I need to calm down. I need to think things through carefully. I know I shouldn''t go back, but the money... It''s a trap. And I think I''m falling into it. There is a Space Term Entry 127 The Void calls to me again. It¡¯s a siren song, but not of despair ¨C not this time. It¡¯s a song of expanding hulls, of faster drives, of more efficient cargo bays. Did you know there¡¯s this¡­ thing? back in the pre-Collapse days they called it ¡°greed.¡± An odd, simplistic term, really. Here in the Stellar Collective, we have a more elegant, albeit colder, label: Expansionary Obsession. It¡¯s the unyielding urge to accumulate ¨C in our case, ships. They say it¡¯s rooted in our genetic memory of the resource wars, a primal fear of scarcity. I swear, I almost can¡¯t stop myself from browsing the Holo-Net. Another nimble scout vessel ¨C the ¡®Whisperwind¡¯ series - just went on the market. Its quantum entanglement comm array alone¡­ I could justify it for survey missions. And then the new ¡®Leviathan¡¯ class bulk hauler, with those integrated grav-plating bays that can carry¡­ well, let''s just say a lot. A lot. I could boost my trade routes massively! But the logistics¡­ the damn logistics. That¡¯s what my core processor keeps screaming at me. It''s a cold, hard fact that the euphoria of acquiring a new ship quickly fades when the reality of its maintenance hits. Every vessel needs its yearly core alignment, its plasma conduits inspected for degradation, its weapon systems calibrated by a specialist technician who charges in stellar credits that would make a pre-Collapse king blush.This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. Then there''s the supply chain ¨C fuel refining, component replacement, the endless cycle of restocking. And the crew. Finding capable spacers who are not just space-pirates is getting harder and harder. And the points defence! There''s no point in having a fleet if it attracts pirates with those fancy new railgun arrays. Each ship has to have its own countermeasures, and those often require dedicated power cores and engineering bays that only add more weight. The engines too. I just got lucky with the "Stellar Wanderer" class warp drive from the last fleet upgrade; those things are expensive and do not just plug into any old ship. And so here I sit, staring at the schematics of the ¡®Whisperwind¡¯ and the ¡®Leviathan¡¯ with a knot in my stomach. I need them. They would be such assets. But I have to remember the weight of the past, the cost of Expansionary Obsession, the way our forebearers overextended themselves, and how the Collective was almost shattered by the ensuing resource strain. The trap of acquisition is a seductive one, and I know I can easily fall into the black hole of needing more and more and more. I must do better. Today, at least, I will not expand. I will focus on the five vessels I already control and make them as efficient as possible. Perhaps, tomorrow the feeling will subside. ¡­or perhaps I''ll just take a quick look at the second-hand market. Just to be sure I''m not missing out on anything. Bottom Line Entry 1 The comms crackled to life, finally. The Republic¡¯s cartographers were practically begging for someone to handle this deep-space survey. Few were willing to venture so far past the established trade routes, but the credits were good, and honestly, I was itching for something other than routine trade hustle. So, here we are. The Phoenix, is humming with anticipation, flanked by the Ravens, each bristling with sensors. Mule and Hydra, our workhorse cargo ships, are tagging along, laden with probes, supplies, and enough fuel to make a jump to the galactic rim. Thank the stars for the Tanker, otherwise this fuel journey would be a no-go. Plus, something else has my interest, a strange ping, some relay picked up, said they wanted to check out. The loot is mine, but they want the data. Let the exploration begin. Entry 2 We¡¯ve plotted the course, and the jump went smoother than I¡¯d hoped. It''s a lonely corner of space out here, mostly empty, but the sensors are picking up some interesting anomalies around the first target planet, designation LX-472. The scans show a breathable atmosphere, which is something at least. The probes are out now, painting the surface with data. The ravens are sweeping for any potential hazards. Mule is keeping an eye on the automated probe deployment, one of them is playing up already. Entry 3 LX-472 is¡­well, it¡¯s a bust. Mostly barren rock, some mineral deposits, but nothing of significant value. Still, the survey protocols dictate a full assessment. The atmosphere, while breathable, is thin and has a strange tang of sulfur. We deployed atmospheric sensors, they¡¯re showing low but stable readings, which is something at least. Hydra is now running some geological scans and soil analysis. Seems like not much grows here. We¡¯ll move onto the next sector soon. Still, the data ping feels closer so we will look at that after our next survey. Entry 4 Second planet, designation QX-901, is showing some promise. Lush vegetation, water sources¡­ it''s a stark contrast to LX-472. However, our survey probes are reporting some interference. Something¡¯s jamming the sensors, making detailed mapping difficult. It¡¯s like a field of static, emanating from somewhere deep in the largest jungle continent. The Raven is doing close-range scans, trying to pinpoint the source. We will survey the location before landing. I''m getting the feeling this isn''t just interference and something more is at play. Entry 5 The interference was just the start. Turns out it''s a magnetic anomaly, caused by some sort of massive crystal formation deep within the jungle. It''s throwing off all sorts of readings, and making a proper survey practically impossible. Frustrating, but fascinating. Crow is using its specialized sensors to try and map the crystal structure. The readings are¡­ unusual. It''s not behaving like anything I''ve ever seen. I''m tempted to land a team and investigate, but the risks are too great. We''ve only got a limited time, and this survey is our priority. I send two ravens to break off an investigate. The pilots are always itching for some fun. They''ll get back to me what secrets this rock holds. Entry 6This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. We finally managed to work around the interference field. It involved some creative programming and a bit of improvisation, but one of our engineers is a clever girl. The planet''s vegetation is quite diverse; it could be of value to the Republic, or maybe just as a place to explore a bit. The planetary scan revealed signs of a structure hidden under thick foliage. We''ve marked it for closer inspection, but it''s likely overgrown and not of much worth. The Republic wants planets and resources not ancient ruins. Still I can¡¯t help but wonder what caused it to fall apart. Entry 7 Finally, we¡¯re heading towards the source of the data ping. It feels¡­ closer than it did initially. We¡¯re nearing an asteroid field, and according to the historical logs, there should be some sort of forgotten outpost nestled inside this cosmic rock. Phoenix is taking point, the ravens flanking us with defensive measures. Mule and Hydra are following close behind, we might need their cargo capacity. I''m feeling a strange mix of excitement and trepidation. It''s been a long time since I¡¯ve found anything substantial out here. Entry 8 The outpost¡­ it¡¯s in ruins, yes, but not as bad as I imagined. It''s a labyrinth of corridors carved into an asteroid. The atmosphere is thin but breathable, and the gravity is almost non-existent. Phoenix is locked down, we are taking a small team inside, we¡¯ll be using the ravens as support. The place is eerily quiet, like a tomb. And yet, there¡¯s a faint hum, a residual energy that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Something happened here, something big. Let''s see what secrets this place holds. I¡¯ll write more when I can¡­ hopefully. Okay, here are some diary entries from a survey team member in a sci-fi world, reflecting your provided prompt. I''ve tried to capture the conflicted feelings and the desire to protect the newly discovered environment. Entry 9 The comms crackled with static as the Ravens return. It¡¯s been nearly a standard week since they broke off to conduct deeper scans. I¡¯ve seen this before ¨C the rush to uncover something new, something valuable. But this time¡­this time, it feels different. It feels wrong. Entry 10 The preliminary reports are in. Both frigates recorded the same phenomenon: crystalline structures of immense size and complexity, scattered across the valleys. They''re not just rocks. They resonate. The energy readings are¡­ substantial. They reported a sustained, non-radioactive pulse emanating from the largest formations. It¡¯s as if they''re breathing. The images are breathtaking, fractal patterns shimmering with an internal light, unlike anything I''ve ever encountered. But the closer I look, the more I feel a knot tightening in my stomach. Entry 11 I spent the last two shifts in the observation deck, watching the delicate interplay of light and shadow across the alien landscape. The crystals shimmer, they pulse, they seem¡­ alive. My readings show that the deeper you go into the crystalline valleys, the stronger the energy field. I even felt a¡­ a resonance with it. A deep sense of peace, almost a pull. It¡¯s the kind of feeling you get when you step into an ancient forest, feeling a connection to something vast and old. But this feels deeper. This place has a soul. And we are going to destroy it. Entry 12 - Decision The report is due in two cycles. I know what my duty is. I should upload everything. I''ve debated it ceaselessly in my mind. If I were to be honest, I would report it. But I can¡¯t. I can''t bring myself to do it. For the first time, I feel a complete and utter reluctance to share what we''ve found. Those energy readings, the unique properties of the crystals, the unique feeling these give me... It''s all too precious. Too delicate. I refuse to be a party to its destruction. I''m going to redact the most important parts, tweak the data, and give them something interesting, but ultimately safe. Let them find their energy somewhere else. Let this planet keep its secrets and its beauty. This time, I choose silence. This time, I will be a silent protector. I¡¯m a trader, out for profit, but this is my bottom line. I¡¯m supposed to bank credits. But this time, I¡¯m not going to. This time, the crystals will stand undisturbed, shimmering in the light of their distant sun, for as long as they can, hopefully, forever. Chem-Runners Diary Entry ¨C Cycle 784, Day 12 Finally got some downtime after my last survey run. Gave the crew some leave. I''m still aboard the phoenix, the hum of her engines in the background. I opted for an episode of ¡°Chem-Runners¡± tonight. Ridiculous, I know, but strangely captivating. This week, Rax, the main character, was in a particularly tight spot - needing to synthesize a batch of ''Stardust'' to pay off some Triad goons. He¡¯s using old-school kitchen implements, like a pressure cooker and some sort of modified food processor. The show always tries to give the impression it''s "not quite real", they are making illegal substances after all, but the way Jax talks about the chemical reactions is rather¡­ specific. I have to admit, there was a spark of recognition in the way he talked about molecular bonding that resonated with me. The entire episode left me with this uneasy curiosity, like a persistent hum in the back of my head. Diary Entry ¨C Cycle 784, Day 13 The hum from last night has intensified. Rax¡¯s "Stardust" synthesis¡­ it¡¯s been circling in my thoughts all day. I know they¡¯re just trying to make drama for the series, but some of the basics are there. I haven¡¯t touched a proper chemical set since my school days when we worked on the basic molecule reconfigurations, before they automated everything. But I have access to the database ¨C the old records and schematics the school used. What if¡­. What if I tried something similar, even on a smaller scale? No, that¡¯s foolish. Incredibly foolish. But, I already started pulling the schematics and comparing them to what Rax was doing on the show. I do have a few of those old cooking tools the show used still kicking around, mostly for nostalgia. Diary Entry ¨C Cycle 784, Day 14 I did it. I actually did it. Last night, sleep was out of the question. Armed with those schematics and Rax¡¯s show as a very loose guide, I repurposed my old nutrient processor, on board the phoenix. I carefully measured out the base compounds, the ones I had, which is not all of what Rax was using. I found the compound list for "Stardust" in the restricted area of the database, which didn¡¯t give me the exact formula, but enough to deduce some core properties and a possible process. The pressure cooker, modified with an old temperature sensor, served as my reaction vessel. The extraction process was¡­ messy. I used a centrifuge from my old protein refiner and then some filters I adapted from my water purification system. It took hours, the apartment smelling of ozone and burnt sugar and who-knows-what-else. The result? A small vial filled with a shimmering, pale purple crystaline substance. It looks¡­ surprisingly like what Rax created. I dabbed a tiny bit on a disposable biosensor and ran a quick analysis, just to make sure it wasn¡¯t toxic. It showed similar properties to the data I''d pulled. Stardust, of course.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. Diary Entry ¨C Cycle 784, Day 15 The euphoria from yesterday has faded, replaced by a strange mix of excitement and apprehension. I created a very small amount of Stardust, in a process that actually worked. I can modify the molecule to get different effects. I¡¯m not a ¡®Chem-Runner¡¯ like Rax on the show, but¡­ the fact that I was able to do this feels¡­ powerful. I shouldn''t do it. It''s clearly illegal. I obviously earning bank being a space trader. my mind however, is already calculating the profit. A neglible amount of resources spent to create it, without spending a dime on the market. Upselling, and I already have the contacts... No, its too risky. This isn''t simple smuggling, this creatign a source. The penalties would be way harsher. Putting the decision off for now, I found some kind of joy creating it. The way the compounds reacted, the different sub-molecules that formed, it was like watching code writing itself. That feeling, that satisfaction... I mean I have the "acquaintances", who wouldn''t ask too many questions. They might be interested in something like this. I won''t sell to just anyone of course, I don¡¯t want to get caught. Only people who I can trust. Maybe this can be my side hustle, for now at least. Stardust was expensive. I could be making it myself. All legal of course. I need to write more of this down before I start thinking of production lines and distribution channels. That¡¯s what Rax would do, isn¡¯t it? I think I''ll keep this to myself. Only on my encrypted logs. Blackie Entry 1 - Location: Kepler-186f Orbital Debris Field
Another day, another rust bucket. Scanned a real relic today, some old mining station clinging to the edge of the debris field. I swear you could hear the void crying through the comms static. It was supposed to be abandoned, but there were still some automated defense units online. Must¡¯ve been programmed with the tenacity of a cockroach. I wasn''t about to get up close and personal, so I had Wraith handle it. Let the balanced fighter carrier have some target practice. The station spat out three different drone variants, nasty little gun platforms. Wraith kept its distance, launching missile volley after missile volley, chipping away at them till they were nothing but scrap and smoke. Sentinel fighters also got in some practice. Managed to pick up a decent haul of old ore after all that. Not the high-grade stuff, just the cheap, low-yield kind. Still, it was something. Worth something to the right buyer, I hoped.
Entry 2 - Location: Cygnus Market Hub - Lower Levels
Today was all about the grind. Sold off the ore I pulled from the Kepler-186f station. Nothing spectacular on the sale price, just a steady drip of credits into the coffers. The market was its usual chaotic self - a mix of desperate prospectors trying to pawn off their findings and slick-talking dealers looking to lowball everyone. Did some trading, bartered for a few replacement parts for the Wraith and some nutrient paste. Haggle, haggle, haggle - the same dance every time. I swear, sometimes I feel like I spend more time arguing with people than I do actually flying through space. Still, it all adds to the bottom line. I managed to turn a profit, however minor, so I suppose it was another successful day in the black.
Entry 3 - Location: Transit to Unknown System
Finally got out of the Cygnus Hub. That place was starting to give me claustrophobia. I spent most of the day reviewing the scans I picked up at the old station. Turns out there were some faint energy signatures below the main mining level. I might have missed something. Time to head to an uncharted system, get away from the market chatter. The Wraith is tucked into the hangar, ready for anything. It''s a good ship, dependable, and always brings me back. I''m starting to think I spend more time in its confines than my own personal quarters on the freighter. Hopefully, tomorrow brings something more exciting than low-grade ore or tiresome haggling.
Entry 4 - Near the Cygnus Reach Another jump, another haul. Picked up a mixed lot from a derelict freighter drifting near the Cygnus Reach. Standard stuff, mostly: nutrient paste tubes, some old synth-leather boots, and a pile of what looked like obsolete data crystals. The usual space junk. Nothing that¡¯ll net a fortune, but enough to keep the rust from eating into the Phoenix''s hull. The manifest listed a ¡°miscellaneous fauna sample¡± from a research station, packaged in a stasis pod. I''d marked it down as some kind of bio-waste for safe disposal. I should have known better than to expect anything simple from a station in that region of space. Entry 5 - On Route to the Rigel Trade Hub We finally popped that stasis pod in the cargo hold today. It felt¡­off. The hum was weird, like a suppressed electric guitar. Inside, nestled in a nutrient gel, was this thing. I''m struggling to describe it. It¡¯s shaped kind of like a beetle, but with the spiky legs of a praying mantis. Its carapace is a shimmering obsidian, flecked with almost imperceptible golden bits. The crew¡­well they about flipped their gaskets when they saw it. Lila even brandished a wrench at it - the poor kid. They¡¯re calling it a ¡°bug¡± and ¡°creepy¡±, and I can''t disagree with the last part, not really, but I¡¯ve seen worse things this far out, I know that. I didn''t really know what to do with it, not when the crew looked so ready to toss into the nearest black hole. So I simply pushed it into the corner of the mess hall and forgot it for the day. Entry 6 - Still EnrouteStolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Still on course for Rigel. The ¡°bug¡±, as the crew insists on calling it, seems to have survived the rough handling. I''d swear it was watching me earlier today with those multifaceted eyes ¨C unsettling. It didn¡¯t seem to be doing anything at all, not even during dinner. With a sigh, I got tired of seeing it ignored, so I tossed some of my leftover protein paste scraps at it. The thing¡¯s jaw-like mandibles unhinged and it snatched the food in a blink, then settled back down, as if nothing happened. After dinner, I decided to do something to keep it out of my hair. I started trying to teach it to respond to a simple hand clap. Just for a laugh. By the end of a cycle, that bug¡­ thing¡­ was raising one of its front legs when I clapped twice, and ducking its head when I clapped once. Smartest damned insect I¡¯ve ever seen. Entry 7 - Approaching Rigel We¡¯ll be at Rigel in a few more cycles. The crew still give the bug a wide berth, but they¡¯ve started peeking at it when they think I¡¯m not looking. I¡¯ve been spending time with it, teaching it a few more tricks. It now comes to me when I whistle, can roll over, and even catch small objects thrown through the air. It''s unnervingly quick. I¡¯m starting to wonder just what kind of research station birthed this little creature. As for selling it, well, I know those high-end collectors on Rigel would pay a fortune for something this unique, but I¡¯m not sure I want to. I¡¯m already making a decent profit from standard trades and this thing is entertaining. Besides... it feels¡­ well, almost like I have something worth caring about after all these years. The Phoenix feels a little less empty with it around. Guess the ¡°miscellaneous fauna sample¡± will be staying with me for a little while at least. A few cycles have passed. Entry 1 - Sector Gamma-Nine The starfield outside the viewport felt particularly bleak tonight. Maybe it was the residual stress of dealing with those Grolak smugglers, or maybe it was just the recycled synth-meal. Either way, I¡¯m glad to be back on the Phoenix. Made a decent profit today offloading that shipment of bioluminescent fungi. Traded them for some rare gravity-weave fabrics; should fetch a good price on Xylos. I hope. Blackie was restless during the transfer, scuttling around the cargo hold, clicking his mandibles. He seems to dislike the vibrations of the transport beams. Entry 2 - Sector Gamma-Nine I swear, Blackie is as good as a tracking device. He always finds the best hiding spots around the ship. He¡¯s faster than I remember too. I was trying to clean the nutrient paste residue from the galley this afternoon, and he zipped past, a blur of obsidian chitin, snagging a stray protein stick before I could even blink. He''s got a knack for finding the things I''d rather he didn''t. He¡¯s nearly the size of a medium sized Terran dog now, which is¡­ unsettling. He¡¯s not just crawling, either. He actually moves, like some sort of multi-legged predator. This little beetle I picked up for free from some cargo statis pod, is turning out to be something else entirely. I''m still calling him Blackie though, for lack of a better name. I know, I know, not exactly inspired, but it was the first thing that came to mind, he was so¡­ black. Entry 3 - Sector Gamma-Nine Another day, another few trades. This time it was some crystalline fuel rods, swapped them for a couple of containers of Grolak-grade stim-spice. The spice is a risky cargo, but it fetches a price that makes the trouble worth it. Blackie didn''t seem bothered by the spice containers, which I thought was odd. He usually reacts to anything new brought into the hold. He''s been spending more time in the engine room lately, which I''m not thrilled about. Can''t have a giant beetle chewing on coolant pipes. I spent most of the cycle checking the systems and trying to figure out why the coolant lines keep developing the random scorch marks on the outside of the pipes.. And trying to figure out how Blackie was getting into the engine room. Anyway¡­ I picked up the latest data packet from my contact on the comm-channel. Looks like they want me to discreetly transport a crate of¡­ well, they didn¡¯t specify what exactly, only that it¡¯s highly sensitive and I need to take the long way around the Korvan Nebula. Coordinates to the pickup are attached. Seems like a straightforward delivery. I hope so, after the Grolak smuggling incident of last week I need an easy payday. Entry 4 - Sector Gamma-Nine My internal sensors registered a minor increase in stress levels as I prepared for the pickup. My contact didn¡¯t specify what I¡¯d be carrying, just that it was important. That alone always makes me nervous. I hate mystery crates. Blackie was more restless than usual, his carapace clicking loudly whenever I moved in the hold. I hope it wasn''t just the ship''s temperature fluctuation I was feeling, the air around Blackie sometimes gets oddly warm, like a heat haze. I still can''t believe what a huge... beetle he''s become. Honestly looks like it crawled out of the depths of a forgotten nightmare. I need to get those pickup coordinates plugged into the nav system, and maybe check the ship''s defenses. Just in case. Prototypes Entry 1 - Implants The data-net was buzzing today with the new Bio-Web line. Honestly, the marketing blitz is almost sickening. They¡¯ve managed to make neural integration sound like a spa treatment. The specifics are¡­intriguing though. I spent a good half-hour on the ¡®Sensory Enhancement Package¡¯ page. Market price is holding steady at 7800 credits, a bit steep considering it¡¯s still preliminary testing phase. The positives, as they list them, are frankly ridiculous: heightened tactile sense, direct neural link to visual data feeds, and an ¡®enhanced appreciation of music¡¯. Negatives are equally dramatic: potential for sensory overload, mild cognitive dissonance during initial integration, and a vaguely ominous ¡®data-leak risk¡¯. They always underplay that last one. I¡¯m mostly looking at this for trade purposes, of course. The scrap dealers on the lower levels are always desperate for the latest tech, flawed or not. I could probably flip a few units, while I''m stationed here on Sector 9. I could make a tidy profit. But¡­that neural-linked visual feed¡­that does sound useful. Imagine seeing fights with pirate fleet from a birds eye view, direct mapping into your retina, no cumbersome visor. I pushed it down the priority list. Today, I''m just trading. Tonight, I sleep. Entry 2 The ¡®Cybernetic Muscle Augmentation¡¯ implants from KyrosTech are making waves. They¡¯ve clearly invested heavily in the visuals this time - glossy renders of impossibly sleek limbs, all sinew and polished plating. Price point is sitting at 12,200 credits. This is the high end of the market, for sure. Kyros claims a 30% increase in raw strength, improved endurance, and ¡®superior agility¡¯. The small print, of course, mentions a risk of ¡®muscle fiber rejection¡¯ and the potential need for ongoing cellular regeneration treatments. Typical. The scrap guys will love this. They have a fondness for anything that makes lugging heavy metals easier. I can practically hear the haggling now. I could probably get double the listed price on the black market for these¡­ Maybe even triple. But part of me¡­I looked at the images for longer than I intended. I''ve been lugging reactor scraps for cycles now. Imagine doing it without that ache in my back at the end of the day. I dismissed the thought. Trade is the only priority, I remind myself. The day is done, the credits are counted. Entry 3 The market¡¯s been flooded with salvaged ¡®Neural Interface Modules¡¯ today. Looks like there was a raid on a low-level distribution hub. Prices have plummeted. You can pick up a basic module for under 500 credits now - a fraction of their usual cost. This is interesting. They''re all marked with some kind of code, ''Prototype Delta''. That''s usually bad news. They¡¯re likely flawed, unstable, maybe even dangerous. Positives, if any, are buried under disclaimers about unpredictable neural spikes and memory corruption. Honestly, nobody would be stupid enough to buy this for personal use. But...if something like this was stabilized... imagine the possibilities. Fast access to data streams, real-time hacking capabilities, no need for cumbersome consoles or interfaces. I could... well, I could be more efficient in my trades. No, that''s me finding excuses. The scrap dealers will have a field day with these. I¡¯ll probably pick up a handful on the cheap and triple my investment. This cycle is over. My curiosity might be growing though...or am I just worn out today? Entry 4 - Phoenix Log. Another jump, another system. Phoenix hummed like a contented beast as we slipped out of warp. Today¡¯s destination: the dusty backwater of Xylos Minor. My manifest was a mixed bag, as usual, but it was the neural interface modules that had me humming a restless tune. I¡¯d picked them up cheap on Kepler-7, 500 credits a pop. The merchant had practically thrown them at me, muttering about ¡®flaws¡¯ and ¡®unstable connections.¡¯ I didn''t much care, they were something to shift. I still believed they had a use. Blackie, my little beetle alien, was scuttling around the cargo hold as always, antennae twitching as he wrestled with a loose coil of tubing.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Entry 5 - Xylos Minor Log. Spent most of the day making contact. A few shady characters lurking in the spaceport cantina, and a couple of legitimate merchants who looked like they''d rather be anywhere else. Tried to hawk those neural interface modules. They were met with a mix of raised eyebrows and outright dismissal. One guy, a G''kar with scales like chipped obsidian, offered me a handful of shimmering crystals in exchange. ¡°They enhance psychic focus, might make those things work better,¡± he¡¯d rasped. I wasn¡¯t sure how much psychic focus would help a dodgy neural interface, but the crystals did look pretty. Another trader, a jittery human named Mel, traded me a box of repurposed drone parts. Claimed they were prototypes from a now defunct corporation. I¡¯m starting to feel like I was running a weird swap meet. It was something I suppose, better than sitting with a pile of rejects. Entry 6 - Xylos Minor Log. The haul of oddities is starting to weigh down the Phoenix. I got offered a weird sonic pistol today, and some seeds that supposedly grew glowing plants. I was starting to have my doubts about this venture. This whole thing had become a strange experiment in interstellar bartering. I even traded some nutrient paste for a rusty old repair droid. It followed me around like a lost puppy. I was in a bit of a mess. My cargo hold was a kaleidoscope of technological misfits. I decided to try something new. Headed to the black market dock on the far side of the station. Figured if anyone appreciated a pile of junk, it¡¯d be them. Log Entry Seven I got a comm-hail, a scrambled transmission from a contact I haven¡¯t dealt with in years. I had put out a trade deal on the black market, a few months back. Now some research guru down on the black markets of Xylos was interested. The details were hazy, but the intent was clear: he wanted those prototypes. Specifically, the flawed neural implants I¡¯d picked up from the decommissioned colony on Cygnus-7, the barely functioning ocular augmentations salvaged from that old orbital station near the Rim, and a handful of the prototype synaptic boosters I got from a dodgy medical supplier on Kepler-186f. A real mishmash, a collection of broken dreams and bleeding-edge tech. I usually kept these types of things for scrap. But this guru, he wanted them all. He offered a price that was¡­unsettlingly high. Like credits were just useless trinkets to be thrown around. It got me thinking ¨C anyone would buy that sort of stuff if it was on the market, but getting it is the hard part. You had to be in the right place at the right time. Most of these were snatched hours before some system authority incinerated them, or pulled from derelict wrecks. Some were simply smuggled by contacts with their own little stockpiles. It was a strange collection, but he wanted it as a bundle. The sheer amount of credits he transferred made my head spin. Enough to seriously consider that next step. I¡¯m not hurting for ships, not by any stretch. I¡¯ve got the Phoenix, my trusty cruiser, always ready to get me out of hot water. Then there¡¯s Mule and Hydra, my workhorses for cargo hauls. Wraith, the old carrier, has pretty good cargo hold for a carrier. And Tanker, I usually use Tanker mostly to refill the smaller ships and the five light frigates I use as protection. But this kind of cash¡­it could justify something bigger. Something¡­ different. I''ve been thinking about a heavy frigate. Maybe something with more firepower, or maybe the new modular design from the Nereus Shipyards, a transport that can carry more, maybe a bit faster than the Mule. A dedicated freighter, something like Leviathan. Maybe it¡¯s time to add a capital ship to my fleet. I¡¯ve always been eyeing the Monolith class. They are bulky but they can pack a punch¡­it is really big though. The whole thing stinks of something. The price, the desperation in the comm-hail. Something big is brewing, and this research guru, whoever he is, seems to be right in the middle of it. But, damn, I can''t deny that this haul could change everything. I need to be careful though, but the temptation of a new ship¡­it is really strong. Browsing New Spaceships Stardate: 2354.11.03 Another day, another series of dusty terminals and pushy sales drones. I started at the Stellar Yards today, specifically their ¡®Pre-Owned¡¯ section, which is usually a more polite way of saying ¡°scrapped and barely functioning.¡± I¡¯m still on the hunt for a heavy cruiser. I''ve got a chunk of credits burning a hole in my pocket, but it¡¯s not infinite, and I aim to be shrewd. Today''s potential gem was a decommissioned ¡°Zephyr¡± class cruiser, a real behemoth. Apparently, it saw some action in the K¡¯tharr skirmishes a decade back. The sales drone, a metallic thing named Unit 734, insisted on extolling its virtues. "A true testament to Terran engineering! Four quad plasma cannons, a spinal railgun that could punch through a moon, and enough reinforced armor plating to withstand a supernova!¡± Unit 734¡¯s voice was like nails on a hull, especially when it started listing the price: 1.2 million credits. My internal scanner registered a few things that Unit 734 conveniently left out. The plasma cannons were older models, finicky and prone to misfires, and that spinal railgun¡­ It¡¯s a power hog, and the capacitors that came with the craft are about as reliable as a paperclip holding together a vacuum seal. As for the armor, well, the K''tharr had a nasty habit of finding weak spots, especially with their kinetic disruptors. I poked around the engine housing. The main drive looked old and needed a full overhaul, another few hundred thousand at least. The interior was a wreck - a maze of busted panels and exposed wiring. Ultimately, it was too much baggage for the price, even after a few rounds of haggling. I managed to bring Unit 734 down to 1.1 million credits, mostly by pointing out the rust patches that were literally flaking off the hull. I left it there, with Unit 734¡¯s whirring frustration echoing in the hangar bay. Stardate: 2354.11.04 Today was a different flavour of frustration. I decided to take a look at the lighter end of the spectrum - heavy frigates. They¡¯re smaller, faster, and usually cheaper, which is appealing. I checked out a "Raptor" class frigate. A sleek thing, designed for hit-and-run tactics, and built by the Solari Combine. It boasted speed, maneuverability and a powerful laser battery. The up-side of the frigate was obvious. The ship, despite being much smaller than the Zephyr, was surprisingly well-armed. It had a pair of heavy laser cannons, good for picking off smaller threats, a missile system and a decent number of point-defense turrets. It was also incredibly fast. The Solari engineers clearly knew what they were doing. The downside? It was a fragile thing. While the armor plating was thick for its class, It wouldn''t stand up to the heavy fire a cruiser could absorb. And it was small. There was no space for a crew that sized much better than a squad, and it seemed cramped, especially compared to the cavernous Zephyr. I did consider it for a moment, then I noticed the ship¡¯s log. It was used in a number of high-speed assaults, and though not much damage, the hull showed signs of stress fractures in the main engine mounts.Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. There were a few variants. The ¡®Hunter¡¯ model had an emphasis on missile payload, but slower engines. The ¡®Interceptor¡¯ had better engines and lasers, but few missiles. Both also had their own sets of wear-and-tear issues. After a grueling hour, I pushed back from my terminal, noting that none quite fit the bill. I¡¯d rather spend more credits for something that can take a pounding. Stardate 2354.11.05 Back to the cruisers. I tried ¡°Cosmic Emporium¡± today, run by a corpulent, reptilian being named Glar. He claimed he had ¡°the finest selection in the sector.¡± Glar showed me a ¡°Leviathan¡± class cruiser. This was a older design than the Zephyr, and looked it. It had heavy armor and a massive railgun, but was slow, cumbersome and frankly, it looked like a flying brick, and one whose paint was peeling. Glar, through a translator drone, claimed ¡°This is a masterpiece of durasteel! It can outlast any conflict.¡± I peered at the armor. It was thick, but old. I poked at the railgun; the weapon was powerful, but had a low rate of fire. The engines, again, needed an overhaul and were extremely fuel inefficient. Glar was asking 1.5 million credits. I nearly choked on my nutrient paste. I spent an hour dissecting the ship¡¯s flaws. I questioned everything, from the state of the jump drive to the age of the navigation system. I pointed out the corroded armor plating in the port side, and the hairline cracks near the engine mounts. I even used a hand-held spectrometer to detect substandard alloys used in its construction. With each point I raised, Glar¡¯s scaly face turned a deeper shade of crimson. By the time I finished my analysis, Glar¡¯s translator drone was sputtering in frustration. ¡°You¡­ you are terrible customer!¡± it chirped. ¡°This is a superb ship! I give you¡­discount. 1.48 million.¡± I sighed. ¡°It¡¯s still overpriced given the needed repairs, Glar. I¡¯d consider 900 thousand, maybe a million if you throw in some spare capacitors¡±. Glar was apoplectic, and his translator practically screamed. I left him there, his translator drone screeching obscenities about my haggling skills. I didn¡¯t buy anything. I¡¯ll probably pay another visit tomorrow, just to see if I can get the price lower. I¡¯m starting to think the thrill of the negotiation is more exciting than the actual purchase. Maybe I should consider a small, cheap, fast ship to annoy merchants more often. Nah, I''m set on a cruiser¡­ eventually. Low Key Entry 1 The Phoenix hummed a familiar tune under my feet as I docked at the Rim Station. The same old grime, the same flickering neon signs. Felt like coming home, if "home" was a place where you could buy bootleg synth-whiskey and questionable cybernetics. I spent most of the day bartering for spare parts; the ship needs an oxygen regulator ¨C a cheap repair, but important. Found a vendor with some decent coils for half-price, said they fell off a cargo hauler. I didn''t ask too many questions. Later, I made a couple of small trades with a few shady types down in the lower levels ¨C selling a few vials of the stardust I synthesized last cycle. Just enough to cover some extra fuel, and a decent meal. Nothing flashy, just smart. The key is to not be greedy. A large haul screams for attention, these small deals slip by unnoticed. Entry 2 The jump to Xylos was rough, gravity was screwy when we emerged into realspace. Took a few tumbles and my cargo of nutrient paste ended up on the ceiling. At least it was contained, I guess? The Xylos market was buzzing, though. The local constables were clearly having a bad day, so I kept a low profile. I heard rumors of a crackdown on synthetics, so I didn''t even bother trying to move the stardust. Instead, I focused on a few pieces of salvaged tech I''d picked up from the asteroid belt a few cycles ago - some kind of data storage unit, I think. A contact in the trading pit took one for a good price, saying it might unlock some old software. A quick win, made enough to pay for some proper Xylos spice coffee. That was worth it alone. I had a look at the market prices for stardust though, it was a bit low. I¡¯ll wait for a better opportunity. Day 159, Cycle 3The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. Back in the void. It''s peaceful here, in a way. The quiet hum, the stars outside. I spent the day making some adjustments to the stardust synthesizer, pushing it to produce a slightly higher grade. The last batch was okay, but I can do better. I also re-routed the sensor array to hide the machine from casual scans - better safe than sorry. I got a message from an old contact on Faelan ¨C they need some rare flora for some kind of ceremony. I¡¯ve got something tucked away from a few cycles back. A quick detour, and if the price is right, it¡¯ll be easy credits. No stardust this trip; it''s not worth the risk when I have something profitable already in the hold. I''m learning the rhythm of the routes, the ebb and flow of desire, so to speak. Knowing when to hold tight, when to sell a little, when to avoid. Day 165, Cycle 3 Faelan was a mess - the city felt like a humid maze. The contact was waiting, though, and the price was indeed right. They didn¡¯t even haggle, just handed over the credits. The rare flora was gone, a quick and clean deal. On the way back to dock, I noticed a discarded crate, probably dumped by a freighter. It was a bit of a mess, but I looked and pulled out some old, but working, sensor jammers. Not exactly a gold mine, but worth something to the right type, and free. Good salvage. I also overheard two traders talking about a shortage of processed minerals on the next system over. That¡¯s something I can definitely find in the asteroids around the next system. No stardust this trip neither, but I have something. Day 172, Cycle 3 The small haul of minerals was worth it. I made a pretty good profit, more than I would have for a small stardust haul. I traded in a system where I was pretty sure no one was looking in my direction and went back into the void. The Phoenix is getting a bit creaky, I need to sort out some of the engine sounds, and maybe put in better life support filters soon. These are small things, but they matter, they keep me going. I spent some time checking the market data, looking for the next opportunity. No rush. I don''t chase riches, I just take what''s given if it makes sense. A few small wins, and you can live well, and stay one step ahead of anyone looking for trouble. Logisitics Entry 1 Another cycle done. Dust motes danced in the cockpit lights as I finally powered down the Phoenix. Phoenix is holding up well. She''s earned her name. These trade routes to the Outer Rim are starting to wear on a person. Today was a mixed bag, a whole mess of mixed actually. The Xylar outpost was¡­ less than profitable. They¡¯d taken a solid hit to their agriculture output after that meteor shower, and no one''s got any credits to spare for luxury imports. My synth-silk from Cygnus Prime is just about as appealing as a mud pie. I managed to offload a few units of the cheap protein paste. Enough for the fuel costs back to Haven, thankfully. But the real work began after I docked. Haven¡¯s the only place I can truly sort this mess. Spent three solid hours just pulling inventory from the Phoenix, the Mule, and the Hydra cargo holds. My back is screaming. The real issue is the junk. Not the cargo that didn''t sell. No, the other junk. The stuff I¡¯d salvaged, pieces of broken down ships, abandoned construction nodes. All the odds and ends that aren¡¯t part of a matched set, or not in a single saleable quantity. This trip had a glut of maintenance gear, bits and bobs I couldn¡¯t pass up but not exactly what others are looking for. I need to make logs. Detailed logs. And price everything out individually. I refuse to let this stuff just take up space. Waste is the enemy. Phoenix Cargo Hold Analysis Mule Cargo Hold AnalysisStolen novel; please report. Hydra Cargo Hold Analysis, Cycle 37, Day 114 Entry 3 My fingers are numb. The good news is, now I have an idea of what I''m working with. The power core, with some work, could be a good sell at the next station. The conduits should sell piecemeal, and the nav module could net a decent sum if I repair that casing, but it would take too long in my experience. Maybe I need to find a fixer for it, someone who might give me a cut of the repair costs. This stuff isn''t just junk; it''s potential credits. It¡¯s survival. Each piece is a puzzle, a challenge. And honestly? I wouldn''t have it any other way. The markets are fickle, but my understanding of what people need is better. Tomorrow, I¡¯m heading to Nexus. Word is, the independent mining colonies there are always on the lookout for replacement parts. Time to hit the bunk on the Phoenix. More Logistic stockpile Entry 1 Vesta was¡­ lucrative. It turns out their mining drones have been having trouble with their optics, and they needed a lot of our high-definition lenses. I finally offloaded those from the Hydra. I have no idea why Vesta hadnt made a call for these for three cycles; they were practically fighting over them. They also took almost all of our spare power regulators. The Mule was quick to secure a trade for refined durasteel, which is always a stable commodity. The Phoenix offloaded some of the remaining Sunstones, this time at a decent price; seems my reputation for quality precedes me now. It was a less argumentative trading day overall. Spent less time in the negotiation stalls, and more time overseeing the transfer of goods, which felt like a relief. I did manage to unload that crate of what I thought was glow-in-the-dark moss. Turns out one of the Vesta mining engineers is an avid terrarium collector. I¡¯ll have to remember that detail for future visits. The Hydra is still giving me a headache. We''re still carrying: Tomorrow, we''re plotting a course for the Aethel Refinery. I''m hoping they''ll be interested in some of our tech pieces. A man can dream, right? I need this unsold cargo gone. I''ve reconfigured the Hydra''s cargo bay one last time for better access tomorrow. It¡¯s almost like the ship is laughing at me with its excess space, mocking my efforts. I need rest. Tomorrow will be another long one. Entry 2 The chronometer clicked past midnight cycles a while ago, but I''m still keyed up. What a day. The network swallowed me whole. I tell you, the hyper-net is a labyrinth designed to test a merchant''s patience. I spent the entire solar cycle online, uploading, categorizing, re-tagging¡­ it felt like I was wrestling space kraken made of code.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. First, I tackled the individual listings. I swear, every single bolt of that synthesized silk needed its own photo and description. Seventeen of them! At least the shimmer and texture translated well through the holo-capture. Then came the gravity boots. Six pairs, each requiring specific size specs, and power cell compatibility notes, and every potential buyer needed to know the lift capacity, of course. By the time I finished with the sonic harmonizers, my fingers were practically vibrating with the effort. I had all this stock, a mixture of the useful and the, let''s say, ''unique''. There were the bio-luminescent terrarium display cases, thankfully they were pre-programmed with the most popular biomes, so that simplified the details, but each one required three different viewing angles. The portable weather domes were bulky to illustrate, so I used a pre-recorded simulation video for each. The energy shielding generators were a headache, of course. I had to explain the energy output versus recharge time in 13 different dialects. The nutrient dispensers were surprisingly popular, everyone wants to optimize their dietary intake. The scent cartridges went quickly, though I had a brief debate with a buyer about the merits of lavender versus pine on a deep space freighter. It went on and on. Every single item, a mini-project. The automatic tea brewing units - a surprisingly good seller, the magnetic tool attachments which I had a lot of, the refurbished datapads, a decent job - the hydroponic fertilizer packs, which I ended up selling the lot to a single buyer who was a gardening enthusiast, which was a bonus. The laser-etched sculptures, gorgeous, but I was worried no one would bother. There were the old navigation charts, which I sold with all the disclaimers, and a set of self-cleaning cooking utensils which had a short but intense bidding war. I got a good price for the trauma kits, thankfully, and the anti-gravity hoverboard sold very quickly to a young crew member, I think he was from the asteroid belt. The holographic projector went to a collector who was more interested in the vintage model than the practicality of it. And then the 12 packets of dried space fruit were surprisingly popular, as was the last item, the crate of "rare" blue-hued space rock specimens. The worst part wasn¡¯t the uploading, but the actual sales. Each transaction required its own dance of haggling. Someone always wanted a better price, or a bulk discount. They''d try and catch me out on a technicality, like the energy cell warranty on the hoverboard. It was exhausting. By the time the last sale went through, I swear I could see the net itself sighing in relief. But¡­ I did it. Everything¡ª every single item¡ª gone. The credits are now safely routed to my account. And even though my brain feels like it¡¯s been through a fusion reactor, I can¡¯t help but feel a strange satisfaction. The junk from the last run has been converted into actual value. Tomorrow, I''ll be looking for a new haul, and I''ll try to not be quite so optimistic about the speed of these sales. Now, I need sleep. The hum of the ship feels louder than usual, or maybe it''s just me. New Heavy Frigates Diary Entry - The Obsidian Moon Another cycle, another mountain of reports to wade through. The Raptor proposal is¡­ persistent. It keeps popping up as advertisement, on my holgram. Those gleaming holos of the ship, tearing through asteroid fields like a metallic predator. Impressive, I¡¯ll grant them that. But impressive doesn¡¯t pay the bills, and it certainly doesn¡¯t guarantee the safe passage of my cargo. I''ve spent the better part of the last cycle re-analyzing the specs. They¡¯re calling them heavy frigates, and that¡¯s putting it lightly. These are damned near cruisers in terms of firepower, but with the agility of a frigate. The weapons arrays are tempting; multiple rail cannons, the heavy point defense turrets¡­ it''s a scary package. The question is, is it necessary? I have five pilots, who could even boost these heavy frigates capability. They have experience. Otherwise, their pay is wasted. Diary Entry - The Obsidian Moon Going over past logs. The reports detail the pirates'' own small frigates, nimble and packing a punch. We¡¯re not facing opportunistic scavengers. It¡¯s organized violence. Therefore, my initial reaction at the heavy frigates was they were overkill, but now... The Raptors cost a fortune, that¡¯s the biggest negative. Fuel consumption is atrocious, crew requirements are triple, and the maintenance costs are eye-watering. Deploying even one of these into a sector eats into our profits considerably. I can see why I was hesitant. The initial outlay for five... we''ll make myself blanch. But that''s just the surface. They don''t just cost money. They take up space in the docks, they require specialized repair crews... so many logistical headaches. The Ravens, while vulnerable, are easy to replace, their maintenance is comparatively simple. We can keep a larger number of them operational at any given time. Should I buy more Ravens, or Five Raptors? This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. Diary Entry - The Obsidian Moon I''ve been cross-referencing the Raptor¡¯s capabilities against known pirate tactics. The heavy rail cannons are designed to shred armor, the heavy point defense turrets will make short work of anything smaller, even if it has armor. My concern shifted from ¡®Is it necessary?¡¯ to ¡®Is it enough?¡¯ The thing is, the Raptors aren''t just about fighting. They''re about deterrence. Just seeing those ships in a convoy should give most raiders pause. I''ve even spoken to some former Star Navy officers who¡¯ve seen the Raptor in combat exercises. Their accounts are¡­ well, they¡¯re almost enthusiastic. They call them ¡°apex predators.¡± The positives are stacking up. The advanced sensor array, the point-defense capabilities, the heavy armor plating ¡­ we¡¯re talking about a ship that can take a beating and still deliver. It''s a fleet not reliant on my Phoenix. Their speed, while not the same as a Ravens, is good enough to respond to distress calls or break off from engagements efficiently. And the crew, I need to hire more, no doubt. They will time to be trained. It goes without saying, the psychological effect on our cargo ship crews, knowing they¡¯re protected by something that could tear the bad guys apart single-handedly, is significant. Diary Entry - The Obsidian Moon I''ve reviewed all the logistics reports one last time. This isn''t a cheap decision, not even close. However, I have enough credits saved. It will put a strain on the budget for at least two cycles. But the alternative¡­ the alternative is losing my entire fleet and my life. I¡¯ve sent the requisition. Five Raptors. It''s done. May the Stars be kind, because with these ships, we are going to make our own kind of luck. The Raptor is no longer a proposal. They¡¯re our Claws. Trade isnt hard Numbers Diary Entry The air smells of burnt circuits and stale synth-coffee¡ªanother day, another docking bay. Today¡¯s haul was¡­ interesting. A crate of bioluminescent fungi from Xylos, another of those ridiculous sonic sculptures from the Cygnus system, and a handful of hyper-fabric remnants from a defunct textile colony. The fungi are a guaranteed sale, always a hit with the gourmet crowd on Kepler-186f. But the rest¡­ well, that¡¯s where the game begins. I¡¯ve got these sculptures priced at 800 credits each, but I know they¡¯ll sit. The demand for sonic art is fickle, like a nebula¡¯s glow. It¡¯s the time that¡¯s the killer. How much time will they suck up, taking valuable storage in my hold, being a constant reminder that I''m not making credits? Maybe I¡¯ll try dumping them on some low-brow market planet for half price. It pains me, but it''s better than nothing. The hyper-fabric remnants, on the other hand, could be gold. Or worthless. Such is life. The Kepler-186f run went off without a hitch, the fungi practically sold themselves. Made a tidy profit. But those blasted sonic sculptures are mocking me. I even tried playing one to a gruff docking bay mechanic, hoping to spark some interest. He just looked at me like I¡¯d grown a second head. They are objectively beautiful and intricate, these sculptures. Worth at least a thousand, if not more. A master craftsman spent months on them! But worth is not the same as saleable. I¡¯ve started to ponder something that my old man used to talk about, the ¡°Unseen Cargo.¡± He meant the time and labor invested, the stories behind the wares. People don''t buy the hours of labor, the countless failures and reworkings. They buy the end product, and the worth they ascribe to it. My old man was a philosophical bugger. I¡¯m not sure I appreciated it then. I certainly do now. I think I''m going to try to negotiate some sort of deal. Maybe trade them for some pre-polished hull plating at half of their theoretical value and a handful of spice. I''m sure there is someone willing to trade labor for art. You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. The deal went through. Hull plating, a spice blend, and a handful of spare fuel cells. It¡¯s barely a quarter of what the sonic sculptures are "worth." But they''re gone. Off my manifest. Someone else¡¯s problem. The plating will be useful and the fuel cells saved a few credits. I can actually make use of the space again. The spices - well, I can sell them or use them to make my grub more bearable. The time they were gathering dust in my cargo bay, the lost profit, the space they took up¡­ that''s worth more to me then the initial cost. It''s an invisible tax those sculptures levied. Today, I think I understand my Dad a bit better. The ''Unseen Cargo'' goes both ways. It¡¯s not just the time that goes into making something, it''s the time it takes to sell it at the right price. If something¡¯s ¡°worth¡± a thousand credits but never sells, is it really worth a thousand? Or is it worth the half I got for it, the value it has to be moved and sold, and the space I freed up? The Unseen Cargo isn''t a physical thing, but it weighs heavier than any crate of neutronium. It''s all about the flow, about keeping the goods moving, and making connections. The real currency isn''t always credits. Today, at least, that is how things went. Managed to offload the hyper-fabric for a decent price. A tailor on a moon in the Altera system was ecstatic, said the colors were exactly what their demanding clientele were after. He even threw in a voucher for some alteration services, which will save me a headache whenever I rip my suit. It seems even things that seem worthless can find a place in the grand market of the cosmos. I just need to play the game, and let the invisible clock dictate my deals. Composition Diary Entry Another day done, another cycle closer to the edge of charted space. Truth be told, it was a lazy one. Spent most of it cradled in the bio-recliner on the Phoenix, hooked into the ship''s datanet. Watched simulated fleet engagements, real-life skirmishes scraped from the archives, even some civilian broadcasts of racing ships. The datanet ¨C the universe¡¯s collective consciousness bubbling through the wires ¨C is a strange and wonderful thing. It¡¯s fascinating, the debates that erupt beneath these recordings. You get the tactical purists arguing about optimal shield configurations, the engineering heads droning on about point-defence efficiency, and the young bloods squawking about the latest weapons tech. But what always struck me was the underlying truth, the point they all seemed to dance around without directly acknowledging: it''s never about just one thing. It''s about the whole. No ship can do everything. You need the lumbering fuel tankers and cargo haulers, the unsung heroes that keep the whole fleet alive. Then there are the salvage ships, the vultures that pick clean the bones of battle ¨C grim, but essential. Someone¡¯s got to focus on point-defence, swatting away the swarms of drones. The interceptors, swift and agile, they nip at engines, crippling the larger vessels before they can even bring their guns to bear. And then you have the ''knives,'' as folks call them, those nimble little ships that can''t quite go toe-to-toe with a cruiser, but can expertly exploit any weakness. Stolen story; please report. Then there are the support ships, the ones you rarely see in highlight reels. Missile cruisers, loaded to the gills with enough firepower to saturate enemy shields and leave them vulnerable for the battleships. And carriers, their flight decks teeming with fighters, a swarm of buzzing, weaponized bees circling the hive. Fighters for defence, fighters for offence, fighters to harass and distract. I''d never really delved too deep into the fleet composition side of things. But today, watching those simulations, something nagged at me. I felt like I was missing something, a piece of the puzzle. Specifically, a missile ship. I know, I know. It sounds simple, maybe even a little dull. But the sheer weight of fire those things can put out, the potential for coordinated volleys... it¡¯s intoxicating. It''s not just about raw firepower, it''s about control. About saturation. About turning the tide of a battle with a single, perfectly timed barrage. The Phoenix is a beautiful ship, fast and responsive. But sometimes it feels like... not enough. Like it¡¯s missing that extra punch, that ability to really influence the bigger picture. Maybe¡­ maybe tomorrow I¡¯ll sift through the classified schematics. See what kind of missile cruisers are out there. Not that I can really afford them. I think I could get lost in the configurations and specifications. Perhaps, just perhaps, I¡¯ll find the missing piece.