Victor Morales, Gallic Freelancer, IDF Subject: Personal Log 1
Transcript: Hey, uh... is this thing on? {clink clank}
Okay, yeah, I think it’s recording. Bonjour, moi dans le futur! It is I, Victor Morales reporting live from, uh… space. {laughs awkwardly} Can’t believe I’m saying that. Space!
So, today’s the day I left the comfortable skies of New Paris behind to start my new career as a freelancer. IDF has me hauling products between Picardy and Languedoc. It’s my first time off-world, and let me tell you, the view… oh mon dieu. The stars, they don’t look like this from the surface. They’re alive out here. Like a million tiny lights whispering secrets.
{long pause, deep breath}
You know, I thought I’d be scared. A tiny ship, all alone in the vacuum, but there’s something… peaceful about it. The hum of the engines, the soft glow of the console. Even the silence—it’s not empty. It’s... calming.
Of course, I’m still keeping an eye out for trouble. Rumors of unlawful activity near the Picardy and Languedoc trade lanes have me a little on edge. So far haven't heard much chatter in Ile-de-France. I double-checked the shields three times before leaving dock...
{short pause}
Anyways, signing off for now. Let’s see if I can figure out how to stop this thing. {clink clank} Uh, is it… this button? No? Ah, zut alors, I’ll just—oh, wait, there!
Victor Morales, Gallic Freelancer, IDF Subject: Personal Log 2
Transcript: Salut, c’est encore moi, Victor. It’s been just a day since my first log, and—how do I say this?—what a journée folle.
This morning, after hours of lugging cargo between Picardy and Languedoc, I finally scraped together 10,000 credits. Pas mal, non? For a rookie freelancer, I’d say that’s decent. Still, mon dieu, those lanes can be so lonely. Static on the comms, the same endless stars, and the occasional grumble from the engine to keep me company. But hey, at least the credits are adding up.
Now here’s where it gets incroyable. I was sitting at a small café on New Paris—just about to enjoy a croissant, mind you—when my datapad buzzed. A message from a law firm on Planet Marne. My first thought? "Bah, encore du spam." But something about it felt... different. So, I followed up.
And voilà! Turns out, I had a distant uncle, Lucien Morales, who recently passed away. I never met him, but apparently, he left me 1.2 million credits and—a ship. Un vaisseau! I nearly spilled my coffee. The credits landed in my account immediately, but the ship? It’s in storage on Marne. I haven’t even seen it yet, and honestly, with how green I still am, I wouldn’t dare fly it right now. Its huge by the sound of it! So, it stays parked in a cozy little hangar until I’m ready.
But the story doesn’t end there. Ever since I was a child, I’ve dreamed of owning a **Taureau**. Sleek, reliable, a little... robuste, but très charmant. So, with some of that inheritance burning a hole in my pocket, I went for it. Peut-être que j’ai été un peu impulsif—maybe I rushed it—but I don’t regret it. Spent the rest of the day inspecting her systems, tweaking the loadout, and admiring how she glows under the hangar lights.
C’est fou. Just yesterday, I was dreaming of life beyond New Paris, and today, here I am: 10,000 credits earned, an unexpected fortune, and my very own Taureau. Life is strange, isn’t it? I do wonder, though... Uncle Lucien, did he ever talk to my parents before, well... before they were gone? Was this his way of helping me, from afar?
{long pause, deep breath}
Tomorrow, I’ll be taking the Taureau on her first proper run. Maybe I’ll head for the Burgundy routes. For now, though, I need some rest. It’s been a long day, and tomorrow looks even busier. Allez, Victor, let’s see if I can stop this thing without breaking it this time—zut alors, not again! {clink clank, static}
Victor Morales, Gallic Freelancer, IDF Subject: Personal Log 3
Transcript: Salut, mon ami. It’s Victor again, just another update. The last two days have been… busy, to say the least. Where do I even start today?
Right after purchasing my Taureau, I had this interesting encounter with a Gallic Navy officer while finalizing the paperwork. He casually mentioned that they were looking for transport contractors to move criminals from Burgundy to Languedoc. The pay? 10,000 credits per head. Let me tell you, the idea of moving **dangerous criminals** made my heart skip a beat—not exactly the kind of cargo I envisioned hauling. But 10,000 credits per head? C’est tentant.
I reached out to him later that evening, and after some back-and-forth, we sealed the deal. Of course, I wasn’t about to take any chances, so I hired a crew of 22, including 10 marines, and stocked the ship with weapons, ammunition, food, and medical supplies. If anything went sideways, I wanted to be prepared. Luckily, the route was quiet. No Maquis, no Brigands, not even a scanner ping. It was almost… disappointing. But hey, safe money is still money.
The job paid out beautifully, and after a few more routes like that, I started hearing whispers—tips from other freelancers and smugglers. Apparently, Gallia is paying top credits for **criminals captured in Liberty space**. The idea intrigued me, so I decided to expand my horizons. I plotted a course and made my way to the California system. It was my first time outside Gallia, and mon dieu, the travel was exhausting. Endless lanes, endless systems… but the payoff? Magnifique. Those lanes though, who designed them!?
After some careful negotiation and a bit of luck, I managed to secure a full load of “passengers” destined for Gallia’s justice system. The payout was worth every minute of the lengthy journey. I even treated my crew to a proper meal on New Paris afterward—nothing but the best, of course. I think they earned it after all the late-night shifts and drills we’ve been doing.
It’s strange, you know? A few days ago, I was running basic cargo runs between Picardy and Languedoc. Now, I’m moving high-value contracts for the Gallic Navy and chasing lucrative bounties across borders. It feels like a lifetime of change compressed into just 72 hours.
The Taureau is proving to be worth every credit. She’s tough, reliable, and with the right crew, she’s unstoppable. But there’s always that nagging feeling in the back of my mind—how far can I push this? Will my luck hold? Only time will tell.
For now, I’m signing off. Tomorrow, we’ll see what new opportunities the lanes have to offer. Maybe I’ll get another tip, or maybe it’ll just be another quiet day. Either way, I’m ready. I think I figured out this recording system so, au revoir{static}
Victor Morales, Gallic Freelancer, IDF Subject: Personal Log 4
Transcript: Alright, c'est moi, Victor. It’s been a while since my last log. Time seems to blur out here. Days turn into nights and back again, all under the same endless sky. But enough about that—let me tell you what’s been happening.
I’m still running the same contracts, moving criminals back and forth for the Gallic Navy. It’s good money, steady work, but not without its risks. Just last week, one of the prisoners nearly pulled off an escape. Somehow, he managed to overpower one of the marines on board. It was chaos—alarms blaring, shouts echoing through the corridors. Thankfully, my crew acted fast. Did you know that the escape pods on a Taureau require a system-wide emergency to eject? I didn’t, but mon dieu, was I glad. The man had no way out, and we managed to subdue him before things got worse. Still, it was a wake-up call. I’ve doubled security protocols since.
On a lighter note, I’ve started noticing something about the trade lanes and stations I visit—dealers selling rare and hard-to-find items. I’ve seen art pieces, vintage music recordings, even antique books. There’s something oddly satisfying about browsing through these treasures, each one with its own history. On my last trip to New Paris, I found a little shop tucked away near the main port. Inside, among the dusty shelves, was a book about Gallia’s history. I couldn’t resist picking it up. It’s a fascinating read, full of stories about our people and the stars we call home.
Maybe one day, I’ll have my own collection—a personal library aboard the Taureau, filled with relics of the past and inspirations for the future. For now, though, it’s just that one book, but who knows? The lanes are full of surprises.
Well, that’s all for now. Tomorrow, it’s back to work. More contracts, more cargo, and who knows what else. But tonight? Tonight, I think I’ll lose myself in this book and let the stars keep watch. Until next time. Au revoir.
![[Image: uA3ByGY.png]](https://i.imgur.com/uA3ByGY.png)