Set of Thoughts

[James Greed]

Harvey Doyle. 33. Single. Occupation: Transport captain. I’m sure you know many like me. Stuck in the endless loop of a nine to five job, slaving away just to get slightly better pay than a dockworker. It doesn’t sound like much, because of course it isn’t. My day starts at Trenton outpost, with a lukewarm coffee, followed by signing in at a terminal. From that point on, I have a few minutes to reach the cockpit of the Heron-class transport I got assigned for the day. Cargo pods already loaded up to fit the market demand, I venture out towards an assigned base within liberty. As we all know, even oxygen fetches a good price. Especially in a tough spot.

Today isn’t any different. Speeding through lanes, only stopped by the usual disruption of some Rogue hooligans. Some of their ramshackle ships can’t even make the shields budge. My company assigned escorts take pot-shots at these bandits, as if they are to imitate work. They too have the same enthusiasm as I do, save for the few adrenaline junkies that dive head-on into these engagements. Few stays on the payroll for long. What matters is getting out alive, with the cargo intact. Depending on the shift manager, they might just deduct from my payment for lost shipping containers. With the lane back up, I carry on without looking back at my escorts.

Thus, I have managed to reach Baltimore Shipyard. The routine here is to switch cargo pods, and ship them to their intended destination; that being Planet Houston. Should be a piece of cake, save for the traffic. A sunburst bumped the side of the ship during the docking sequence. Not a problem as the deflectors were still up and running. Once the preparations are done, I get the green light to disconnect the docking clamps. Followed by the usual ear deafening screech, as metal grinds to metal, and the ship frees itself from the confines of the station. Lining up the ship with the next trade lane goes without a hitch. Until one of -those- people show up. I’m sure you have seen them, flying their Sunbursts and Mammoths. Impatient brats cutting right in front of you, just so they could save a few minutes. As the lane accelerates us both, my ship gets awfully close to his. Great. Now I have to pay attention to avoid hitting his ship, while also trying to make it to Texas in time. Being late and getting your ship damage is another thing you get penalized for…..

/An answer like this is bog standard, most every employee gives a similar monologue during their psyche evaluation. Grey and uneventful, slightly disgruntled. When written down, you would call these "flight reports", or in more extreme cases, "journalism"./

….. Eventually, I have reached Norfolk. Taking the next lane towards the Texas gate went as smooth as you have imagined, save for the idiot in the sunburst. He kept transmitting empty hails. I gave him my destination once, what else does he want to know? This time I wasn’t having any of it. As he cut in front of me once again, I made sure to give the thrusters a little juice, putting me inches away from his rear end, as both ships are propelled by the trade lane.

This felt unusual. I generally never stray away from company policy. Needless endangerment is strictly forbidden. Never could I get myself to disobey. As if a force outside of my control pushed me to do act. Once the two ships reached the Texas gate, the lanes did the rest. The sheer weight of my train was enough to flip the Sunburst, who retaliated with approximately 27 hails. Nothing new I could tell them, accidents like these happen. I know that, everyone knows that. This was an accident. Nobody is at fault here. Yet… I answered the hails with a hail of fire from the turrets, and a single sentence through the comms:
"You have no more waypoints remaining."

The sunburst was caught off-guard. The dinky little freighter smoking after the first few hits. I just…. slammed the throttle, and jumped to Texas through the gate. My rear-view camera showed him jumping after me. Yet, once I was in the Texas system, no ship came through the gate. Guilt washed over me, followed by a sense of liberation. Nothing I have ever felt before. The most unusual act I have ever done was to not Microwave my TV dinner. Now, I am armed with a whole new set of thoughts, goals and challenges. Free to think and act as I want. As if I was…. disconnected from the hamster wheel of life.

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"… I keep hearing reports about the Texas system. Ships disconnecting when jumping into the system. Any ideas, did somebody look into this?"

"Must be some NPC routes with no real endpoints. For example, there seems to be a USI trade convoy with no real destination set. Deleting the entry might just help."

"Good. Submit the changes."

I have submitted a potential fix.

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Greedback