Okay, here are some diary entries from your space traveler, focusing on their ship, Phoenix, and encounters with other space truckers:
Entry 1: Cycle 347, Kepler-186f Orbit
It’s hard to believe it’s been so long since I left the hydroponics bay on that research station. Feels like a lifetime ago, adrift in the black, watching the stars swim past. The Phoenix has changed so much since then. She’s more scars than skin now, really. Rebuilt, patched, and pushed far beyond her original specs.
I’ve stripped parts from pirate wrecks, haggled over weapon systems in greasy backwater stations, and slowly transformed her into something… else. She’s got two nasty ballistic cannons that could punch through a small moon if I aimed them right. And the Vulcan cannons for point defence? Those are a welcome addition. Armoured plating, thick and heavy, runs along her hull. I couldn't afford shields though, no one really can, unless you take up a commission, signing away 'freedom.
The engines are beasts now, and the sensor suite is sharp enough to spot a space flea from light-years away. Of course, I've added a few… ahem… hidden compartments for the occasional bit of smuggling. But despite all the upgrades and combat capabilities, the Phoenix feels more like a cozy home than a tool. It’s strange how attached I’ve become to this hunk of metal.
Hydra, my cargo hauler and fuel tanker, hasn't seen as much attention, poor girl. She's reliable, but she's mostly just the workhorse. I really should give her some love.
Entry 2: Cycle 352, Trading Post Theta-9
I met up with a trio of space truckers at the trading post today. Ol’ Man Tiberius, a grizzled veteran with a prosthetic arm and a ship called 'The Wanderer' that looked like a flying junk heap; a young woman named Zara, who piloted a sleek, almost elegant freighter called 'The Seraph'; and a quiet, hulking man who went by “Gorok,” whose ship, “The Anvil” was a brutish-looking vessel, bristling with engines and weapon mounts. They’d been making the rounds for years, jumping between systems just like I did.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
We spent the better part of the day swapping stories, comparing our ships, and of course, trading a few tales of close calls. I showed them the Phoenix and they gave her a good once-over. Tiberius grunted and pointed out my lack of shields, saying she’d be a sitting duck for anyone with energy weapons. I feel like she was being rhetorical, showing off her wealth. Gorok nodded in agreement with a rumble in his throat, but they both admitted the ballistic cannons were “proper teeth”. Zara was clearly impressed with the sensor suite, and also the extra hidden compartments I'd added. That made me laugh. She'd clearly worked plenty of dodgy trades herself.
Entry 3: Cycle 352 (Continued)
After our initial inspections, the truckers showed off their ships. The Wanderer was an absolute mess, patched together with mismatched plates and salvaged parts. Tiberius told me he liked it that way, said each dent and scratch told a story. He’d turned the interior into a labyrinth of makeshift living spaces and storage. It was surprisingly cozy.
Zara's Seraph felt like a completely different universe. Sterile white panels, soft lighting, and a minimalist design that screamed luxury. She’d sunk a fortune into automation and environmental controls. She kept her living space spotless too. I felt like I’d just walked into a hospital after being in a junkyard.
And Gorok’s Anvil…well, it was like stepping into the engine room of a dreadnought. Massive engines, thick armour, and a bridge that looked more like a command center. He was clearly more concerned with function than form. He showed me the reinforced bulkheads between the cargo bay and living area. A very sensible addition when dealing with dangerous cargo.
Each ship was a reflection of its owner, and it was fascinating to see how we'd all adapted to life in space. I left the trading post with a newfound appreciation for my own battered Phoenix, and a few more things on my list to add or upgrade. The endless cycle of survival and adaptation never ends, does it. But it sure makes life interesting.