“What's it like being a freelance spacer? Son, listen to me, here. I've been from one end of this Galaxy to the other and all points in between. I've heard it called 'freedom', 'adventure', Gods below, I even had one youngster tell me riding the Hyperspace lanes was like being 'on a permanent vacation'. But let me tell you something, son, lean in, listen at me, I'll give you the real play…
“Bein' a freelance spacer is spending most of your life in a ship made up of a few hundred million moving parts, all of 'em built by the lowest bidder. And if any one of those little parts goes pear-shaped, you could be ten thousand kinds of dead. It means walkin' through cramped corridors, sleepin' in tiny berthing spaces and having just about as much privacy as a zoo exhibit. Endless watches, often times being the only one awake on the ship and wishing to whatever Deity or Demigods you care to believe in you can just get another thirty minutes in your rack before the next watch. You'll learn to eat stuff you'd probably step over in the street and Seraphs help you, enjoying it..
“Then we come to the business end of things. I don't give a mynock's fuzzy bunghole how moral or upstanding you think you are, after the fifth or sixth time you get turned away from legit work by the big boys, you'll find yourself cutting any crazy deal you can come across to shag a few credits. And that just opens up a whole new container of sand fleas, because some of the people you'll find yourself dealing with are meaner than krayt dragons or crazier than ginkos, or some combination of the two. You will learn damn quick that it's better to have a blaster and not need one, than to need a blaster and not have one.
“So where's the ray of 'shine in this dark storm? Your crew. They're all you got out there in that long, cold night between the suns. They've got the same troubles, same enemies, same woes as you and more than enough to split between you all. They're your family, son. They will know you back to front, left to right, upside down and sideways, and you'll know them the same. Doesn't matter if you trust 'em or not, doesn't even matter if you like 'em or not. You just remember that they're all you got when the heavy end of the hammer comes crashing down.
“What's it like being a freelance spacer? Son, if I could do any other job, believe you me, I would. But between the Empire and the New Republic, I've got enough negatives on my Med Tech ticket, I couldn't practice in a Nar Shaddaa whorehouse…So I'll just lie to you and say I wouldn't do anything else.
“Now I was of the impression there was an offer a drink in this somewhere?
-Naulis Hronn, Medic, False Dawn
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