Arjen the Red
2018-09-21, 02:55 PM
Day one, early morning.
It was meant to be one of the easiest transport jobs you'd ever had. Take the cargo, a well insulated and armored black box the size of a small dog, and transport it to the Red Corridor for pick up. Get your money and leave that desolate spot in the middle of no where. The Red Corridor used to be a worthy destination. Located between the Annular Necrocracy - the richest section of the quadrant - and Finn's Prairie, a fertile farming planet and local hub for trading food, folks from all over the Aether Sea would come for all sorts of reasons. But those days are gone and the corridor is a dull stretch of unaffiliated Royal space, punctuated by the red start (hence its name) and planets which, on all of the Royal registers at least, are uninhabitable. Nobody ventures here anymore.
No names were given because none would be needed; the contact would be the only ship bothering to hang out in the Red Corridor. So it was much to your surprise on this morning when instead of finding a lone ship drifting in the given coordinates you find a half-dozen ships of dwarven make, plenty of smaller vessels of various makes and models, a full SCU station in orbit around the sun, and one of the largest Royal ships you have ever laid eyes upon. Somehow you both begin to think that maybe this job isn't going to be as easy as you thought it would be.
It was meant to be one of the easiest transport jobs you'd ever had. Take the cargo, a well insulated and armored black box the size of a small dog, and transport it to the Red Corridor for pick up. Get your money and leave that desolate spot in the middle of no where. The Red Corridor used to be a worthy destination. Located between the Annular Necrocracy - the richest section of the quadrant - and Finn's Prairie, a fertile farming planet and local hub for trading food, folks from all over the Aether Sea would come for all sorts of reasons. But those days are gone and the corridor is a dull stretch of unaffiliated Royal space, punctuated by the red start (hence its name) and planets which, on all of the Royal registers at least, are uninhabitable. Nobody ventures here anymore.
No names were given because none would be needed; the contact would be the only ship bothering to hang out in the Red Corridor. So it was much to your surprise on this morning when instead of finding a lone ship drifting in the given coordinates you find a half-dozen ships of dwarven make, plenty of smaller vessels of various makes and models, a full SCU station in orbit around the sun, and one of the largest Royal ships you have ever laid eyes upon. Somehow you both begin to think that maybe this job isn't going to be as easy as you thought it would be.