Cheli Terminal, Djabushis
There are 44 landing pads in Cheli, and I may have used all of them at this point. I’m slowly, painfully making something resembling bank, or at least knows where bank hangs out. But I’m starting to wonder if there’s some sort of economic maelstrom around Djabushis. I checked, and we’re nowhere near the hub of the galaxy, so physics can’t be blamed.
It started with a stroke of luck; lady wanted four tons of liquor toted out to Ross 193, and she wasn’t looking for a lot of questions. Got her to throw in a case of the cheap stuff (I use it to clean engine parts – really! Know how hard it is to find good solvents out here?), and I was on the pad faster than you could say “reciprocal enrichment”.
The real downer about Liquor is that the pirates seem to know. They know you have it, they know you made some bad decisions at the outfitter, and they know to park their Expert-rated asses so as to best catch your Harmless-rated Sidey as it tries to slink past. Praise the Maker for chaff launchers.
Dropping off the goods, the bulletin board was, predictably, bare of decent missions, so I decided to take on a new kind of mission – basically, “go get us something, and bring it back here.”
This sort of mission requires a few things come together properly. First, you need to know where you can get the required substance. Either you’ve seen it there, or you know how to use the Galaxy map to plot out trade routes. Even then, you only know where it might be. You have to go there to find out. So there’s still a bit of risk involved.
Sidebar: I’ve got a great idea. How about we equip all ships to pick up market data when they dock, and drop it off when they dock somewhere else, for a couple of creds in the ol’ bank account. Kind of how the cartography thing works, only with economic data. Wouldn’t that be great? Yeah. I want a quarter-cred every time someone steals that idea.
Now it turns out these missions aren’t too bad, cash wise, but the follow ups often leave a lot to be desired. Thus I found myself hauling scrap metal to our friends at Huh. Hey, it’s cash, and it beats dead heading towards Sol. A paycheck’s a paycheck.
Huh had another of those “get me some stuff” missions for significantly more cash because, I reckon, nobody wants to go to a place named “Huh”. And here’s where Cheli’s vortex comes in to play. See, nobody else in that sector makes food cartridges, which are really cheap and really dense food for people that can’t afford Kraft Dinner or a spaceship to carry them away from that place. And everyone wants food cartridges because starving sucks.
So. you get two or three hops away from Cheli, get one of those missions, and end up right back where you started from, hauling four tons of rubber grommets to a mining station that will invariably ask you to then turn around and get more food for them, and so forth.
The bulletins tonight looked really promising, but I need to degrease some engine parts and take a little down time, because after that last jump, I distinctly heard the NaviComp say “Fuck him”. And since NaviComps don’t have voxels, I’m taking that as a sign that I need to self-medicate a bit.
So you just know those good missions’ll be gone long before
I sober up get the engine degreased. Gonna let that go for now, though. Just in case the NaviComp needs a nap or something.