These are the life and times of Commander Vingtetun.
Pilot, entrepreneur, amateur exobiologist, explorer and mother Trucker to Hutton Orbital Truckers' Co-Operative...
Where did it all begin?
As with many pilots of my slightly greying hair and aching knees, it began with a bequest. 100 Credits in the bank, some home schooling on how to fly a venerable Cobra and.... of course, the keys to my very OWN ship.
My mother was the one that suggested I take to the stars. A trader, a keeper of records of commodities and markets - a cartographer who mapped out the what, and the where - by the time I reached the age where I could comfortably see over the radar screen, she needed a pilot.
By "needed" - it's quite clear that she didn't NEED a pilot - it was her way of encouraging me to take my first flight, and to learn what I needed to know to make my way in the Galaxy.
From Lave to Diso. From Diso to Leesti and beyond. Buying rare furs, computers, gem stones and exotic goods and back again. The occasional interruption to fend off pirates in ships no longer seen in the galaxy - The Gecko, Boa and Moray Star Boat. (I'm showing my age a little there).
She encouraged me to forge a name - and, as "David" was, at the time, too frequently used - I picked a number - "21" - there are many reasons, from the Hull Identifier on my first ship - but, in a sea of "Davids" - being "21" stuck with my peers. But 21 is just a number - an important number, but a number nonetheless. So, when I came of an age to have my FULL pilots' license - something more appropriate was needed - and "Vingt-et-un" was a game many of the old spacers played in the bar - so Vingtetun was who I became.
By this point, my mother had "retired" - she still read Galnet, and kept her eye on the Pilots' Federation communications, but her flying days were long behind her and she enjoyed MY exploits in the galaxy vicariously.
But - I needed a contact. Someone at "home base" who could look after the paperwork, the contacts and the mission messages. Step up "Auntie Val" - a one woman legend when it came to being organised. Widowed for 25 years, EVERYONE adopted "Auntie Val" - and the lady had talents - 3 screens at a time, 2 phones on the desk - and a recipe for rum cakes adored through local space.
It's said that when you know NOTHING, the best thing you can do is find someone who knows EVERYTHING and learn from them - fast - and learn I did. We affectionally called Auntie Val the "Shady Lady" - she ALWAYS wore something purple and.... the pictures of her in her youth standing on the back of bikes while they jumped through fiery hoops was a lifetime away from the sweet old aunt everyone now knew.
Sadly, we lost Auntie Val. Time, and age, and a sudden collapse took her but in her memory, "21" on my ship was painted out and "The Shady Lady" headed out to the stars. And yes, it's purple. ALL the ships are purple in her memory.
And... in her memory, and in tribute to her outlook on life - two pieces of advice for my career in space persist - "doing the right thing is ALWAYS the right thing to do" - and never forget "be excellent to each other".
At Lave, in the bar - friendships were forged with fellow pilots - and a new home was discovered. Hutton Orbital. 0.22ly from the jump point - a place with a rare but delicious Gin, distilled by old spacers.
But, while drinking there - 1 and a half hours flight from anywhere - the conversation turned to how to get MORE people to know and love this little orbital. "What we need is something commemorative for people who make the journey".
And, as luck would have it - a local salvager had discovered something special - the salvaged drive plates of ships that FAILED the long supercruise had a special property - in the presence of frameshift energies, this material warmed to the touch - in fact, warmed to JUST the right temperature to keep your drink piping hot for the entire hour and a half journey.
So - collectively, we started a salvage operation to bring as MUCH of this salvage scrap to the orbital, and forge them into what is NOW recognised as the rare Hutton Mug.
Everyone needed company to help prevent the space madness setting in, trip.. after trip... after trip... So, from a small office out at Hutton, and with some scavenged radio equipment, Hutton Orbital Radio was born - keeping truckers throughout the galaxy company through their long journeys.
From there? The co-operative, the independent faction that sits just next to Sol - helping anyone and everything and taking on the most difficult challenges in the galaxy. Repairing 10 burning stations in 10 days? Done. Filing ALL the top 10 slots in a trade CG? Done. Circumnavigating the milky way in a Sidewinder? A walk in the park. Convoys and challenges - the more ideas we came up with, the more people took part.
All of them, working TOGETHER - as a co-operative. Keeping each other company every week and helping ANYONE that asked.
As the theme song says "the profit margins never really mattered at all". They help, though....
And all the while, Commander Vingtetun and the good ship "The Shady Lady" (These days, the name sits on a Python) take the memory of Auntie Val througout the stars.
Oh, and mum STILL keeps her eye on things - just to make sure I'm behaving myself. Even at my age.
