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[faunswallin-blog]

I'd describe freedom as this, "No one telling you how to live your life". That has been my families motto for thousands of years. For generations upon generations, my family has lived life their own way in the one career that makes any kind of sense. We are truckers.

It was once said that in the beginning the first of our line would haul cattle across nation lines in a combustion engine truck. I don't know how hard that was I'd imagine it is exactly like it is today. In the past folks had dilapidated roads, today the vacuum of space has vailuum wakes. Before truckers had to connect to their trailers with air hoses and pig butts, today I use gravtronics and counter lines. Out in the darkness of space I am but one trucker of the billions of people occupying space.

Lights began to strobe as I sat in my copilot chair with my feet up on the control board. I was continually writing my thoughts down to avoid the boredom of being in transit. After a minute of strobe lights an alarm began to sound. Putting down my stylus and pad and placing them in the chairs storage pouch I pushed myself off the panel and hopped up. Sidestepping over to the pilots chair I hit a few buttons as I spoke to myself. "Geez Bertha it's just another vailuum pocket", I slid a black glove onto my right hand, I can feel the wires inlaid pressing against the front and back of my fingers. With a flit of a finger a screen popped up in front of me. A sensory camera outside of my ship put a picture of my nearby surroundings on my hull in front of me.

"The new starships have force field reinforced viewports. I get handed an extremely late model Mack DX. All hull and no way to look outside unless you turn on a camera."

Out in the quadrant of space in front of me I saw an utter minefield of gas pockets. My eyes knitted together as my hand waved and opened wider as I toggled more sensory, kinetic, and ultra-wave cameras to show on my hull. "This isn't supposed to be here Bertha, did you turn left at Albuquerque again?"

The family joke brought a wry smile to my lips. My parents told me about a rabbit from the ancient era that tunneled underground that constantly got lost and would attack hapless hunters. I think my folks called him Roger Rabbit. Anyway, my left hand quickly plotted a course through the minefield before me. As I shifted and changed angles on my cameras, I plotted a route through the thickest portion.

Finally after Bertha approved my calculations she began to pick up speed as my truck dipped, yawed, and maneuvered the quadrant before me. I stayed busy as Bertha flew, the minefield seemed unending. As I flew through it I began to see salvage from other ships and popsicles. People thrown into the vacuum without any protection on as they freeze up and look like icicles floating or rotating in place.

I tried not to look at them as I traveled past. " Where there is trash...yep there it is, my destination." I pointed my chin at the battle in front of me nodding to myself as my hands continued to plot a course.

I guess I should let you know as a trucker I am not very fast. My Mack isn't built for speed it's built for reliability. I have reinforced hulls what little shields I have are usually focused on covering my gravitronic couplers. If that goes then my next paycheck goes. My truck and hauler are about 5 earth American football fields long and a dozen meters wide. My top speed on a wide open space with no obstacles would be the equal to a troop transport for most militaries. Right now there is a battle and one side may not be too happy to see me bringing a haul into their enemies ship.

"Okay Bertha, we came this far let's go the extra distance and get through this." I motioned to open up the throttle. And like a river snake I began to weave my way through the destruction to my destination.

I kept one eye on the battle ahead of me trying to guess each sides tactics. Reading battlefields isn't hard if one side has more ships then another then it's logical they will push forward, so long as it was the ship I was going to that was winning I could slip right in.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the case today. I am headed toward a Universe Class military outpost. I don't usually take military contracts however the pay is excellent and Bertha has needs. Attacking them was a rebellion hodge podge of fighters and strapped together rust buckets. From the distance you wouldn't think the rebellion would stand a chance. Except they don't fight fair. Universe Class starships are in charge of logistics and military families. Sure they have firepower the quadrant is a testament to that. Unfortunately the rebellion fighters found the Achilles heel to any Universe Class ship. They put extra shielding over the bases personnel sectors. If you can hit that enough times the Universe Class will be forced to reroute power to protect its people making it more sluggish in response to attacks. Star fighters will be just as agile though orders are delayed to power fluctuations and the rebels have a toe hold.

I watched as I slipped from devastated ship to devastated ship using their massive blown out hulls to hide my slow bulk. The battle was brutal and if Bertha could make a bet I would put my money on the rebellion. But I want to get paid if I didn't deliver then I'd open myself up to all sorts of nastiness. So as any trucker would, I pushed up slowly and recklessly into the battle.

The rebellion fighters were black with splotches of white on their hulls as an effective Camouflage for long range cameras however the Universe Class fighters had their hulls white washed with colorful decals on their sides. I watched the white fighters and saw one fighter who seemed in control whose ship didn't wobble when flying straight. The wobbles comes from shaky hands on the flight stick. Pilot's adrenaline pumps and the brief moments between hails of projectiles some Pilot's shake their hands causing their ships to wobble.

I saw my ticket through the Battlefield. It was a whitewashed ship with a black top hat and two pink ears popping out of the bottom of the hat.

Every time this ship made a pass, I'd fly under him towards my destination. When the magic hat would finish an attack run, he would pull a tight looping barrel roll and jet back towards his carrier, then perform another loop and strafe another area. It was effective sniping, not engaging in a dogfight , but still allowing himself to cover his squadron.

It wasn't an easy approach for me the rebellion saw me first and they sent three fighters my direction.

I mentioned before thar I was slow, I forgot to add I am very agile. Bertha doesn't have a great top speed but I spent a good portion of my spare money on the highest level directional boosters. Attached at every 10 meters Bertha can dodge an astriod field of rock and metal with ease. As the fighters fired their projectiles Bertha rolled to the side boisting herself out of the line of fire as I plotted a course through a burnt out hull of a larger cargo hold floating dead in space.

Being small and long pays off. The fighters moving too fast refused to follow me and decided to wait for me to come out. Unfortunately for them they were in a battle and a sitting ship is a dead ship. When I finally extracted myself from the burnt out hull I saw three new dead fighters with holes in their viewport. If I decided to look closely enough I would be able to see droplets of frozen blood drip from openings.

But that is for rookies. I have a load to deliver. So I did my best to line up my approach based on magic hat was doing. After some strenuous maneuvers and a few too many close calls I managed to hail the UC Freeholt.

"Shipper ID Number" was the only response I got when I hailed her on the open channel.

"Graphite-Niner-Codex-Codex-Quiltex," I replied in my best calm voice. A stray projectile brightened up one of my sensors blinding me briefly. I would be nervous unfortunately I wasn't talking to a person yet, and the computer was analyzing my voice for stress markers.

Finally, a younger feminine voice replied "Welcome to the UC Freeholt. Please follow the lights to our receiving bay. You will exit you ship upon landing and place yourself in a confined area as we scan and unload your cargo hold. Is there anything you want to declare?"

I replied in the negative as I flew through the opened doors.