SUNDAY 03-04-3302


ENTRY: 0005

As close calls go that was up there with the time Bart almost found my supply of less-than-twelve-year-old-boy-appropriate tablet subscriptions. Much like that time, though, I’m sleeping well tonight.

It’d been a slow evening, I’d only made a few collars and was getting a little bored of Red Dwarf re-runs. I was about ready to call it a night when I noticed a couple security patrols dogfighting with a fed dropship. The pirate’s name was Braaten (can already tell this joker’s a bit of a joker). I’m friendly with the patrols, and they’re struggling, so I decided I’d throw my weight into the fray and see what kind’a cocktail the four of us can make.

This Braaten, he sees me taking a few pot-shots and decides I’m the bastard he wants to take down. My shields are like tissue paper against his multi-cannons, but I ain’t running, not like with Stu. The Sandpiper can take it, so I try some fancy flying, drop some chaffs and shield bank generators – ya know, the standard crap folks do to keep themselves breathing. But this Braaten is targeting my modules. He knocks out my chaff and not long after that, my pulse-lasers, too. But I still ain’t giving up. Bart’s gonna be harder than this star-sucker so I ain’t giving him the satisfaction of turning tail.

That was the plan anyway. That was the plan…until he knocked out my power regulator and breached my canopy. I had to re-distribute power just to get the engines back online, all the while Braaten’s tearing into my hull like a fat kid with no self-control and a bag of peanut butter chocolate bites. My hull’s on 0%. I have no shields. No canopy. Power’s leaking. Ten minutes of oxygen and Braaten on my arse. He needed one more shot on me, just one bullet and the Sandpiper would’ve been confetti. He never got that bullet off. The patrol ships, those sexy cloudheads, they took him out’a the sky. And I got me a paltry bounty of around 65,000 for my efforts. I’ve had smaller. I’ve had bigger, too. But it weren’t worth it, that’s for sure.

I made it back to Hooke City with O2 enough for a no-nonsense romp, and the team’s fixing Sandpiper up now. I’m typing this up from the infirmary, got a few pieces of shrapnel lodged in me legs. I’ll be fine; spend most of me time sat down anyway.


I’m about 500k credits away from breaking 5mil. The finish line’s in sight. Claire and the boys’ll be safe soon.


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