Hope you didn't eject straight into a rock. Seen that happen a few times too many, and I've never liked having to scrape the remains of my wingmen off the side of an asteroid.
Assuming you did survive, let me know whether or not the navy flyboys already paid you. If not, I'll wire you your share of what they paid me. I'm trusting you to be honest about it, of course. Mercenary's honor and all that.
Sable, how nice of you to check in. Now I really owe you a drink for worrying about me. I don’t make a habit of dying, but I’ll admit—that fight got a little too close for comfort.
But don’t worry, I’m still in one piece. Well, mostly. A little bruised, a little battered, but that just means I had fun. And I have to say, that was the most fun I’ve had in the past seven years. Illegal boarding ops just to reach a high-value target on some godforsaken rock has a way of making life feel... monotonous. This? This was a rush.
The Liberty Navy paid their dues, though. They covered most of my losses—well, aside from my pride after getting slapped in the face by a Razor cannon. Hell of a hit, I’ll give them that. So, in the spirit of good sportsmanship, I sent some of their credits back and told them to have a round on me. Maybe that’ll keep them from looking at me like a ghost next time.
And you—thanks for checking in. It means a lot. Most people don’t bother in this godforsaken sector, where pilots vanish like ghosts and wreckage is just part of the scenery. You? You took the time. That’s rare.
So, the next time we cross paths? First round’s on me.
![[Image: y6Z9YTS.gif]](https://i.imgur.com/y6Z9YTS.gif)
![[Image: IzNF1on.png]](https://i.imgur.com/IzNF1on.png)