One Last Thing
by the Trader
Day 2 into 3: Hazardous Materials
I dock at the School to find out that the incompetent Pusamon wants two units of Afterburner I, one of which he rewarded me with a couple jobs ago. I place that one in queue and grab another one off of the Market before he can finish telling me what the rewards are.
I make Pusamon’s head spin with my efficiency and he recovers his composure enough to slip in one more proposition. The last one he has for me, he says, and I breathe an inward sigh of relief.
He wants me to construct some rockets. Arms manufature? Where in my service description does it say anything about building explosives? Handling and transport, sure, but creation? I look over the blueprints he’s given me and as I’m scratching my head he adds that there’s a shiny new ship in it for me, a Caldari Badger Mk I.
I ask him how many he wants and how soon he needs them.
Before I can proceed I need to inject the basic Industry skill. I find a comfortable bunk and take a quick nap while the data does its thing.
I wake up feeling refeshed and in possession of the rudiments of manufactory. I head off to Science & Industry and request a production line. Unfortunately every line in the School is occupied, so I bundle up the raw materials and set course for the Sukuuvestaa Corporation Factory in neighboring Airkio II, seeing as it’s a ghost town over there.
A quick jump and a dock later and I’m all set up. I get the time-quote back, it’s going to be more than a few hours before the rockets come off the line. I think I’ll take a bit of down-time here and catch a real sleep.
Woke up sweating and cursing. The same dream as always, scattered fragments of memories from each moment before a previous death. Fire, explosion, the cold of the Vacuum, then… nothing. The lingering recollection of that period before I’m awakened in my clone, the complete and total violet darkness of oblivion.
What’s always scared me is the absolute comfort of that state. It’s as though perhaps to never wake from it is preferrable to the endless grind of reality.
I realize I’ve overslept by a good eight hours. A message flashing on my personal terminal tells me the missiles are complete, so I transfer them onto the Bantam and set course for what should be my final meeting with Pusamon.
My long sleep made me miss the monetary bonus, but I’ve got a new ship and I’m free from obligation to Pusamon. He congratulates me on completing my ‘training’, saying that with the knowledge I now possess I can carve a niche out for myself. I knew that long before I started couriering for him, but I smile and nod and make haste to inspect the Badger.
It’s rather more complex than the Bantam, but it will serve the role of transport far better than the smaller ship. Unfortunately, more complexity requires more skills training. With the new chip in my brain, though, it seems the overall training time required has been significantly reduced. I download the necessary files and sift through the latest incursion reports on my personal terminal.
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