Craig's Carefree Chronicles

[kenshin156]

Sitting in his cockpit, he takes out the diary from under his seat and grabs a pen.

Day 2, back again with my old man's favorite ink pen. I feel years older by the second.
Anyhow, time to write down what's happened after I slept over my hangover.
I only had job offerings in the numerous bars with drunk guys wanting me to kill somebody. But hell, I am not ready for that. Not equipment-wise nor mentally.
So I basically moved around in a circle in New York, going from Tradelane to Tradelane, trying to meet some traders to ask if they wanted an escort for hire.
That's when I noticed someone on my scanners who was registered as hostile to me. But it was no mere criminal. The Liberty Database updated them all for me. Outcasts, Rogues, Lane Hackers, Xenos or gone-rogue Freelancers. But these guys were flying under some flag I've never seen before. The "Order".
And I am incredibly nosy, people around me know that. So what do I do? I follow the readings. Into the badlands. In retrospect that was basically me signing my death sentence. But me still writing here is kind of a spoiler, so I managed, obviously.
So, they were not hostile. They were actually rather friendly. I mean they weren't shining my shoes, but we were on the same level of respect, you could say.
So obviously I wanted to know what these "Order" guys are. But some Hunter Punk - god I hate them - interrupted and called the Navy on them. Apparently they call them "terrorists".
Needless to say, they had to flee, but we organized another meeting near Planet Pittsburgh. Actually I am currently waiting for them as I write this.
They contacted me, saying they're on their way, but it'll take a while because they need to avoid using the tradelanes. Understandable.
So to pass the time I wrote up what happened thus far. I'll use the next page after I've talked with them.
If I don't, they are indeed terrorists and I'm dead or kidnapped. But oh well, my curiosity is too strong for me to not take this opportunity.

He signs with his initials and looks at the scanners, showing 2 red contacts, before he puts his diary back under his seat.