independence does not mean freedom

How many times the routine or feelings borderlining boredom in your day were interrupted by a sudden spike in life’s pulse?

Don’t try to answer. I have it. The answer is: every time.

It’s every time because we describe our lives in a linear fashion. Just like the good old EKG’s depiction of  our heartbeats, our life’s downs are followed by ups and sometimes resting for a bit at a certain point, but always dancing the back and forth dance until the “flatline” reassures us that we are merging with the Universe.

I was living one of this life’s respite, studying the damage that Gallia is inflicting upon the spaces I knew at a different point in their history.

It sure looks like there is a tremendous determination in the politics of the galic sector to force their way into contemporary history. Bretonnia and Liberty feel the push as direct competitors in the control of most of the region, but the sad part in all this, is that former independent systems in the way are feeling the breath of the beast of Gévaudan.

At the last council of the Marauders, there was a strong consensus that there is no better place we could hunker down and hope for close to non-dependency on any of the houses, then the independent systems. It is a little addressed subject in media formats, but we tend to conduct contracts with the corporations more than with the government entities. Although the reputation might tie us to one more than the other, and corporations tend to embrace the values of the governing entity of their inhabited space and point of economic interests, we consider a matter of honor not to adhere to any government’s interests.

I never quite liked Cortez space. The blur brought by the extensions of the surrounding gas clouds are producing strange variations in the background perception, with an interesting melange of strong primary colors. It is just like Monet’s spirit would became a berserker of titanic proportions, painting relentlessly this piece of the universe in a maniacal spree.

I can’t strip down this place of all its values with absolute confidence. It still has things like the Montezuma base, the Paloma and Roatan ice clouds, and now, most interesting than ever, a bizarre place where a stalemate between the Liberty battleship Yukon and the royal pain in the rear battleship Bethany is clear of all traffic.

Getting around the planet, outside the tensioned area in the proximity of the mooring rings of the Spa and Cruise home planet it was easy to observe that this has actually become somewhat of a local applied method especially for traders. Their waypoints are taking them safe outside a 10K offset path from the closest planetary orbit and especially out of reach of any stray artillery barrage. Not only that, but it seems to be conveniently in the proximity of an unmapped jump hole on my charts.

A trading convoy was generous enough to share data while approaching the anomaly in exchange of a small amount of gold I have scavenged of a wreck found in one of the ice clouds, on what is seemed an ideal smuggling corridor.

chapter 1: the struggle for some sort of utopia

Is with this idea that I have managed to inflict serious damage to my preconceptions about a lot of the populations I’ve encountered in my travels. We are an adaptable species and a permanent conflict within us between the need for privacy and the need for cohabitation and socialization is expressed in the patterns with which we tend to spread throughout this universe.

The very first second the jump ended, my tiny universe's library got one more check-box.

I was looking beyond, at an extraordinary rich planetary system scattered alongside a massive ice cloud.

For yet another time in my travels, I was not alone here. This here is a serious enterprise.

The radar was almost instantaneously populated with targets. Some known designs and markers, some new ones and especially notable, one that seemed dominant in numbers and strength.

Proximity to a planet of unusual atmospheric consistency makes me take a plunge into close orbit and take some readings.

Results? Well...it’s massive. That’s about it. It is not inhabited and by the look of the relief and temperature readings… Planetform will have its match in this one if they ever get involved.

I’m hurrying towards what looks like a more promising prospect to the right of my cockpit.

A convoy was reading as heading that way too, so I set a following pattern and stayed some distance away, not to rise suspicions. The well-sized shipyard in the distance suggests an important location with what only can be assumed to be heavy defences.

No additional confirmation needed on that front, after seeing in close orbit, contrasting in color on the background offered by the blue planet, the outlines of a carrier.

The information started to flood my mapping and logs, showing Synth Foods, Deep Space Engineering, Independent Miner Guild escorts and traders and a bunch more others.

A tag jumped at me more then the others: Cryter Republic.

This is an amazing find for me.

I have ties with people that had ties with people that were friends with the cryterians back when they haven’t left the Sol system… The subject of their migration and settlements in the Sirius system was not touched for a long time in my discussions with people. It was like, for us, they just faded out…

Well...no, sir. They did not, and all the trials they have been put through with settling in Sirius made them even tougher then they’ve been quoted. It is hard enough to move once, but these guys have been doing it for a while and it looks like now, after they have been pushed around for a time, they hunkered down in here and they have a big banner up saying “We are here to stay”.

Gallia might disapprove and this makes them a direct enemy of the cryterians, but at the end, you can push someone against a wall for a time, until you will feel the push back.

Cryter seems to be determined to push back and brake free.

The quality of their weaponry and ships are absolutely astonishing for a small entity as they are. This means they took the business of war seriously in this new setting they found themselves.

I can not miss an opportunity like this. A bit of a bribe is due to the gate operators, but a descent trajectory was uploaded to my net.

On the ground, I get the real feel of the population on Planet Yuma. I know the name now.

I know that they deemed it to be their capital, that they have a continuous effort of spreading out as much as possible inside this system, that they sometimes have close calls with Outcasts running some smuggling operations across their space and that their biggest advantage in this is a collaboration they have with a freelancers base hidden deep into the ice fields.

It all makes sense in theory. An independent republic working with independent individuals to maintain control over their piece of land.

They call themselves free.

They do call themselves free, but they fight.

They call themselves free but they occupy.

They call themselves free in a finite space.

Independence brings a feel of neutrality and a large flexibility in dealing with other entities. It should not be confounded with freedom, just because the comfort is there.

Freedom is just as mach an utopia as truth and all-knowledge, but a close state could be reached at human scale, when independence is joined by anonymity, recklessness, disobedience, guts and unmeasured sacrifice for one’s values.

Not quite what was expected...right?

It all sounds convoluted, and it will be even worse when you consider that there are always “catches”.

To be truly free, you can’t create obligations and responsibilities as much as you can’t develop respect or fear for anything. This being said… what is the use of a free individual?

We need to grow in this universe by applying ourselves to a role and doing it the best way possible every day as we can’t know how much time we are given.

This chapter will take a big spot in my memoirs...

chapter 2: there is a place for everyone

There is never rest for the wicked, so after refueling and basic supply purchase, I am away and ready to see more. The thought of finding the freelancer’s base is more powerful than the allure of the cluster of planets I see somewhere in the southern quadrant.

And so, my Sutinga is getting a fit for handling lots of bumps.

The ice field it is!

I leave behind a settled world with the feel of a highly compressed spring ready to be released, to immerse myself in the tranquility of a thick cloud…

Or so I though, until bumping into projectiles launched skillfully by Rogues. The scouts of Montezuma made it here too, so I oblige them in a quick chase. They seemingly were in the search of one of their own, who turns out that it was transporting some gnarly piece of technology related to their drug trafficking.

I have 4 of them in my cargo now, and they gave up the location of the wreck with this opportunity. They can’t send the message home that they found it. Soon, they will be disciplined in one of Liberty’s facilities and I will get a fat bounty for their future misery. Win-Win! Mantello’s cargo made it into my ship now. Can’t wait to cash in!

The happy times are linked like a golden chain today.

A basic trick learned as I was playing with my siblings in the deep waters of Baden Baden while our mother was working as a temp housekeeper in the resorts there, brings to light my most wanted treasure of my trip.

While playing catch, the hunter would always try to go as deep as possible to easily identify the targets against the illuminated glow of the water above.

There is no mistaking it for anything else. The freelancer safe haven was in front of me!

I am however, cautiously maneuvering above the station, once I realize that guards are not registering my ship’s signature and being trigger happy, they engage me in a forceful space-tango accompanied by a barrage of foul language through radio channels.

The towers clear me and I am to power down my weapons, disable the shield and maintain visual comms during docking. I was not going to disagree with them and I should do that quite fast, as I understand that the outcast dreadnought is patrolling the sector.

chapter 3: the marauder’s marauder

Never in my life I could have dreamed of a non-centralized organization pulling something of this magnitude. The size of the investment and tactical vision is remarkable. It is conceived as having four cores. A central hub with access to defenses, traffic coordination and public gathering, flanked by three semi-autonomous stations, each housing different representatives of shipbuilders and commodity traders.

A cornucopia in a frozen sea.

The pleasant ridiculousness of this situation makes me smile even now as I am writing to you about it.

I am approached by a ship dealer:

• In need for wings freelancer?

• What makes you think I am a freelancer?

• My mistake if you are not, although old Mishka can smell military from a mile away. There is something about that ironing or pressing substance that makes me irritable, you know... Your elbows have seen some grease and quite frankly, dear sir, you stink of ionized gasses.

• I think that is enough clues, my friend. As I said, I am not…

• You are a merc then! Mishka says with confidence.

• If you would let me fi…

• Is from that M thing that I know. What is that?

I am quite tired and I can’t argue with this guy. The docking port crew had me at gunpoint for two and a half hours before they cleared the neural net and registered the Marauders in their database.

• I am an explorer affiliated to a mercenary group called Marauders. Are you familiar with them?

• Not one bit. Guys like that make only for good cash and next I know they are either dead or they join another group. Merc… That is a tough life and a short one most often.

• I am fifty two. What is this saying about us or about me?

• If I would have this conversation with you over the radio I would believe you are either lying or a coward. I see you lost half of face and waving that xenodian gun proudly so I believe I would have been wrong.

• You would have been. Not quite proud of my half face appearance though. My spectral vizor is a good improvement for navigation, but it could have been just as good if installed over my eye instead in its place.

• Mine?

• Razor.

• Could have been worse… You must have a slow ship.

• I had quite a fast one then. It could have used a better pilot...

We both laugh. Mishka jump to the opportunity:

• What are you flying now?

• A Sutinga. Renzu really got this machine a good upgrade and I had a good commission that day.

• Slow.

• What do you mean slow? It’s not the fastest, but slow?

• If you would have been in the market for a ship, I could have shown you how fast feels like.

• I didn't consider…

• It might help you keep your other half of your face! 

• You have to stop doing that.

• I apolo…

• Cut it out. You got me. Show me. I am interested.

• You might like the name too… Mishka says while we start walking into his shop.

There was never a better smell than the new greased new parts smell, combined with the ionized glasses from the licking shield batteries. Ah..maybe the smell of fresh meals… but that is another utopia.

• Is it a woman’s name? I try to be funny..

• I give you three tries.

• I give you this chance to show it to me.

• Ok. OK. It’s marauder. It's called the Marauder.

• You are ass kissing now.

• I swear! Here it is! The one in the middle.

As soon as he pushed that lever to open the hangar door I started to get light headed. It was like a dream and also nothing I was expecting to be.

I am not saying it was ugly, but it was like it was build to fly in full fog with a complement of six for medical purposes and scientific readings, not at all fighting. And besides, I fly alone.

I need that space for weapons or cargo. Well...weapons. Or cargo… Definitely weapons and ammo.

My disappointed face makes Mishka break the silence:

• It turns like a bat out of hell.

• But the cabin...the glass…

• It sprints like a cheetah in heat.

• I do like the stabilizers… I continue to assess the ship… I like the size of the engine and type… This is not a bad combination…

• And it’s not a bad price either.

• And this would be the time to say it so I have a reason to leave…

• How is under two million credits sound for you?

• How much under?

• For the ship only?! One point seven.

That was the day I bought the Marauder.

Took the little bat right out for a spin and if there was any doubt in my mind about the purchase, the way this thing moved in the barrage field laid out by the Dreadnought Basilica when I crossed its path, sealed the deal and made it permanent.

For now I will leave it parked with Mishka until I could do the modifications I was envisioning for it.

This impulse-buy makes me think again at the idea of freedom versus independence. It is the pursuit independence that made me to buy yet another ship. It is independence that allowed me to do it. It is freedom that has to suffer now, with possessions increasing and responsibilities towards them. I consider that my activity has a purpose, that will influence people and so I consider myself independent and not free. My freedom will have to wait until I or my priorities take another shape.

Before proceeding with undocking procedures, I am loading in my neural log the location of two more jump holes from some curious characters in the bar.

I could see this as a place of high traffic for the Marauders, so, more ways out or in, spells a better chance of loosing potential tails.

chapter 4: colorful planetary marble games

As I am exiting the ice field in sector 6D, my jaw drops and there is no other better expression that I could think to describe the sight then: whaaaaaaaaa?

In front of me, it looks like higher powers had too much fun with a marble set while benefiting from the outcast’s spilled cardamine along their smuggling routes.

The layout appears to define a mega-planet at the center, with a series of the most diverse moons I’ve encountered.

The more I get lost in visual analysis and spectrometer readings, the more it looks like the planet actually captured other traveling worlds in its gravitational pull and made a beautiful, colorful, diverse necklace for itself.

The intense purple of the mother-planet lures me to dive into its clouds.

As I was contemplating actually doing that, I am spotting this black shape at four in the lower plane…

A cryterian warship.

This is the place that I’ve been let know about.

It turns out that they are patrolling this place with the intent to keep the Basilica away from one of their colonies. I am uploading a quick report with my encounter with the dreadnought to gain a bit of favor and in exchange they point the way for me to the colony, after I used the pretext of much needed supplies.

They made good on their promise and I find myself riding the grav-fields of the mother-planet that I know now as Salina, towards an icy (what a surprise) world named Pecos.

I remember this name from a series of logs from the IMG way long ago, but it seems like this became a good place for Cryter Republic to call their own. Regardless of when and how, now I found it and I am setting my ship down.

Not much to see really… another frozen mud-ball, another desperate or smart investment… another place for people to call home.

This will be my last stop here. A message comes my way that I am to enter gallic space and make a survey of that as soon as possible. My new friend Mishka just made good on his promise and  a quick contract with the Cryter Republic is about to start. We need to map a path through Gallia that will allow them to fall behind enemy lines if the need arises.

It is with respect to the republic's fight for survival and their pursuit of neutrality, I accept the contract.

As a salute to this wonderful sight, I am climbing well over the orbital plane of the moons to capture this last image:

“The purple soul with a fashion sense”

chapter 5: still dreaming of freedom

I can’t stop thinking about the end goal of everyone here, and this tied, of course, to our goals as an organization or even the goals of every of the border worlds people.

This world began as a unitary, desperate move of a united front and it reached for who hows how many times into a divided world pulling humanity in just as many directions as we could travel…

What is freedom?

So many people see freedom as their daily struggle and they put their resources restlessly into this pursuit without stopping for a second and think of where they go with it.

Some see absolute defined freedom as the onset of anarchy. I could be well within their ranks.

I believe freedom is within each of us. It is a concept tied to our core and values.

We are as free as we enjoy life and as we enjoy what we do.

So do what you do… Do you, and your freedom will be yours.

The jump hole stairs at me from the blackness of the background as a judgmental eye of a mercurial conscience ready to punish me if I can’t understand its ways…

I will let myself at its mercy as I’ve had done it for so many times before.

The Coronado left me undecided about me liking it or not.

I see the potential.

I see the profits.

I see a lot of good people around.

I wanted to see more though.

In the end, it could be just me...always wanting more.

Always being human.

Always with a fault.

---