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A Letter Home
Dear Helen,
I finally got your latest message the other day, and it’s taken me a few days to compose myself to reply. I can’t say I blame you. I am gone an awful lot, and asking you to essentially get married to a holographic portrait really wouldn’t be fair to you and wasn’t well thought out, but then love doesn’t always make sense. I very much appreciate you wanting to stay in touch. They say that when a lady tells you she “just wants to be friends”, it’s worse than just ending things. But, life being the way it is out here, it’s a good thing to have all the friends you can get, even if they are under the warmth of a star you only seldom get to glimpse.
So, as I sit here in uncharted space and watch another asteroid give up its treasures to insistent mining beams, I have time to collect my thoughts. They always return to you in quiet moments like this, and I am grateful for what we had, what we hopefully still have, and I need to send you this message.
I wish I could somehow convey to you what it is like out here, the vast glory and serene quiet. The things I’ve seen stir something in me that I can’t fully explain. It’s as if I’m witnessing the best the Maker has provided, of which humankind is such a miniscule part. They say we are all made of star dust, and will return to it again in time, but having lived and worked so much out here, I think that the inevitable passing from this life would be simply coming home to a place of endless beauty.
The stations are really just a place to get work, or get paid, or earn a reputation. They sometimes seem to be an intrusion into what would otherwise be a perfect ordering of the universe. Yes, they are efficient, bustling, and often more than a little exciting, but I only spend the time I need there to support my travels, which I also love, and I guess it’s that love that makes this life worth having, even if it is without you as my wife.
Looking back at what I’ve just written, I guess I am being far too philosophical, or at least too sentimental, and perhaps that’s enough of that.
The Canary is still doing very well. Getting the Centurion MKIII was essential to making a go of business out here, especially after sneaking into Odia to get her outfitted with the best battery available (the Corvus folks don’t look too closely at licenses). With all the mining I do, ‘Canary’ just seemed to be a perfect name for her, if I remember Earth history right. The Canary has enabled me to also set up a fleet of Centaurs stationed throughout known space for in-system trading and mining, and thus avoiding wormholes, for the most part. Although wormholes are unavoidable for travel between systems, they tend to attract those who would take by force what was earned by hard work.
Recently, I’ve joined a few friends in forming a partnership, with the goal one day of establishing a formal guild corporation. We are few, but loyal to each other and interested in helping to make space a safer place to do business. The other day, we scouted out a Hive Queen and dispatched her and her horde. Well, the others did the fighting, really; I stayed nearby with a repair ship and patched them up as they needed. They are becoming good fighters, and that is important out here (escorts are often needed), and just as important as the surveying I’ve been doing for so long, which I’ve decided to share with them.
Well, the hold is finally full of Heliocene, and it’s time to close and wend this loaded, wallowing Centaur back to the nearest station. Hope this message finds you doing well; you have all my best hopes.
Your loving friend,
Cron
I finally got your latest message the other day, and it’s taken me a few days to compose myself to reply. I can’t say I blame you. I am gone an awful lot, and asking you to essentially get married to a holographic portrait really wouldn’t be fair to you and wasn’t well thought out, but then love doesn’t always make sense. I very much appreciate you wanting to stay in touch. They say that when a lady tells you she “just wants to be friends”, it’s worse than just ending things. But, life being the way it is out here, it’s a good thing to have all the friends you can get, even if they are under the warmth of a star you only seldom get to glimpse.
So, as I sit here in uncharted space and watch another asteroid give up its treasures to insistent mining beams, I have time to collect my thoughts. They always return to you in quiet moments like this, and I am grateful for what we had, what we hopefully still have, and I need to send you this message.
I wish I could somehow convey to you what it is like out here, the vast glory and serene quiet. The things I’ve seen stir something in me that I can’t fully explain. It’s as if I’m witnessing the best the Maker has provided, of which humankind is such a miniscule part. They say we are all made of star dust, and will return to it again in time, but having lived and worked so much out here, I think that the inevitable passing from this life would be simply coming home to a place of endless beauty.
The stations are really just a place to get work, or get paid, or earn a reputation. They sometimes seem to be an intrusion into what would otherwise be a perfect ordering of the universe. Yes, they are efficient, bustling, and often more than a little exciting, but I only spend the time I need there to support my travels, which I also love, and I guess it’s that love that makes this life worth having, even if it is without you as my wife.
Looking back at what I’ve just written, I guess I am being far too philosophical, or at least too sentimental, and perhaps that’s enough of that.
The Canary is still doing very well. Getting the Centurion MKIII was essential to making a go of business out here, especially after sneaking into Odia to get her outfitted with the best battery available (the Corvus folks don’t look too closely at licenses). With all the mining I do, ‘Canary’ just seemed to be a perfect name for her, if I remember Earth history right. The Canary has enabled me to also set up a fleet of Centaurs stationed throughout known space for in-system trading and mining, and thus avoiding wormholes, for the most part. Although wormholes are unavoidable for travel between systems, they tend to attract those who would take by force what was earned by hard work.
Recently, I’ve joined a few friends in forming a partnership, with the goal one day of establishing a formal guild corporation. We are few, but loyal to each other and interested in helping to make space a safer place to do business. The other day, we scouted out a Hive Queen and dispatched her and her horde. Well, the others did the fighting, really; I stayed nearby with a repair ship and patched them up as they needed. They are becoming good fighters, and that is important out here (escorts are often needed), and just as important as the surveying I’ve been doing for so long, which I’ve decided to share with them.
Well, the hold is finally full of Heliocene, and it’s time to close and wend this loaded, wallowing Centaur back to the nearest station. Hope this message finds you doing well; you have all my best hopes.
Your loving friend,
Cron
Well written Space Ranger, I've always wondered what drives miners like you. ;)
Well Written! I love it!