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It’s great to trade with the T-G-F-T
Boom, ba boom ,ba ba ba boom ba boom…..
The sound system was blaring rock tune as a slender hand reached over and pressed the mute button. Obsidian was in her third hour of patrolling for the UIT Work Corps. The job was like a roller coaster ride. Sometimes she could go forty, fifty minutes without a distress call, other times it was a chorus of voices clamoring for attention in her ear. The day she had discovered the dusty MP3s was a major boon for her sanity. Some of the music tracks were corrupted but after weeks of careful splicing and edits she had salvaged over 1,000 songs. These old fashioned songs were great at keeping her awake during the long patrols.
What was up with the UIT these days? The UIT Advisory Council certainly wasn’t helping by giving her double shifts.
Obsidian suspected the large TPG faction was behind the latest promotion: “Free Ships.” How in the universe could TPG make a profit when they are giving away ships? Granted they were flimsy ships made out of the cheapest plastisteel available, with a battery that barely put out enough energy to leave the gravitational orbit of the station, let alone initiate a jump warp.
As she thought about this, a plausible answer appeared. It was quite simple: get the noob hooked on the rush of making a “big profit” and then sell them the dream of owning a Behemoth. That ugly shoe of a ship was now the hottest thing since sliced water. She hated flying that ship and if she had her way she’d never step foot in one again. However her hands were tied. The cargo capacity of the moth was twice that of her centaur and there was no way she could afford to spend much time to haul around all the ores she had been mining over the past month.
“I bet there are some station managers who’d also love it if I never flew a moth again” laughed Obsidian as she though about the 5 m green strip she left on the side of Azek Manufacturing. The last time she had tried to dock with a full load of apicene the inertia dampeners had been pushed to their max and she over shot the docking bay by a few meters slamming into the station at 20m/s. Broma-Ba Slick always made it look so easy when he did it, but Obsidian never could get it just right. “Oh well” she shrugged.
“Where can I sell Heliocene” came the voice from the speaker.
“Where can I buy xithrite?”
Obsidian sat up and replied "try selling ores at stions further away from where you mined the ore" "Xithrite is mined primarily in UIT space so you can get the best prices at station in the UIT."
TThe next voice was “Can someone give me some credits?”
Ugh. Obsidian’s policy was to never give out handouts. Sure she had enough credits in the bank to spare a few K here and there but it was a matter of principle. There was plenty of work available at the stations so earning credits wasn’t that difficult. She often told these poor pilots to get out and trade.
“How do I earn licenses?” Good grief, the UIT was so interested in selling equipment they couldn’t even be bothered to explain the point system for licenses.
“You have to earn experience points by doing things like killing hive bots or completing missions.”
“Is ferric ore good?”
Soon there was a steady stream of requests for information about the best places to sell ores. Obsidian tired to explain the economic system of the universe but to many it was dry reading or listening in this case. However, understanding the interaction of supply and demand was the difference between eking out a living and making a healthy profit. After that it was time for a break. So Obsidian cranked up the tunes and started singing the song she had been humming before:
“Young Man, there’s a place you can go”
“I said young man, when you’re short on your dough”
“You can trade there, I’m sure you will find”
“They have many ways to sell ore”
“It’s great to trade with the T-G-F-T”
“It’s great to trade with the T-G-F-T”
“They have everything in their database,
You can hang out with all the boys…”
The sound system was blaring rock tune as a slender hand reached over and pressed the mute button. Obsidian was in her third hour of patrolling for the UIT Work Corps. The job was like a roller coaster ride. Sometimes she could go forty, fifty minutes without a distress call, other times it was a chorus of voices clamoring for attention in her ear. The day she had discovered the dusty MP3s was a major boon for her sanity. Some of the music tracks were corrupted but after weeks of careful splicing and edits she had salvaged over 1,000 songs. These old fashioned songs were great at keeping her awake during the long patrols.
What was up with the UIT these days? The UIT Advisory Council certainly wasn’t helping by giving her double shifts.
Obsidian suspected the large TPG faction was behind the latest promotion: “Free Ships.” How in the universe could TPG make a profit when they are giving away ships? Granted they were flimsy ships made out of the cheapest plastisteel available, with a battery that barely put out enough energy to leave the gravitational orbit of the station, let alone initiate a jump warp.
As she thought about this, a plausible answer appeared. It was quite simple: get the noob hooked on the rush of making a “big profit” and then sell them the dream of owning a Behemoth. That ugly shoe of a ship was now the hottest thing since sliced water. She hated flying that ship and if she had her way she’d never step foot in one again. However her hands were tied. The cargo capacity of the moth was twice that of her centaur and there was no way she could afford to spend much time to haul around all the ores she had been mining over the past month.
“I bet there are some station managers who’d also love it if I never flew a moth again” laughed Obsidian as she though about the 5 m green strip she left on the side of Azek Manufacturing. The last time she had tried to dock with a full load of apicene the inertia dampeners had been pushed to their max and she over shot the docking bay by a few meters slamming into the station at 20m/s. Broma-Ba Slick always made it look so easy when he did it, but Obsidian never could get it just right. “Oh well” she shrugged.
“Where can I sell Heliocene” came the voice from the speaker.
“Where can I buy xithrite?”
Obsidian sat up and replied "try selling ores at stions further away from where you mined the ore" "Xithrite is mined primarily in UIT space so you can get the best prices at station in the UIT."
TThe next voice was “Can someone give me some credits?”
Ugh. Obsidian’s policy was to never give out handouts. Sure she had enough credits in the bank to spare a few K here and there but it was a matter of principle. There was plenty of work available at the stations so earning credits wasn’t that difficult. She often told these poor pilots to get out and trade.
“How do I earn licenses?” Good grief, the UIT was so interested in selling equipment they couldn’t even be bothered to explain the point system for licenses.
“You have to earn experience points by doing things like killing hive bots or completing missions.”
“Is ferric ore good?”
Soon there was a steady stream of requests for information about the best places to sell ores. Obsidian tired to explain the economic system of the universe but to many it was dry reading or listening in this case. However, understanding the interaction of supply and demand was the difference between eking out a living and making a healthy profit. After that it was time for a break. So Obsidian cranked up the tunes and started singing the song she had been humming before:
“Young Man, there’s a place you can go”
“I said young man, when you’re short on your dough”
“You can trade there, I’m sure you will find”
“They have many ways to sell ore”
“It’s great to trade with the T-G-F-T”
“It’s great to trade with the T-G-F-T”
“They have everything in their database,
You can hang out with all the boys…”
I was going to do a scathing reply, but I think I'll pass...
Hey, if they can make an AMV (anime music video) out of YMCA, I'd like to see TGFT make one out of it as well.
Very funny, 'Sid.
Very funny, 'Sid.