Personal Narrative Essay: Wicked Pass
“We’re going to mine off the navigation path?” I snapped. “Wicked Pass is the closest feeder system to the Wildlands. We don’t want to mix with those types of people, they live lawlessly.”
“Where is your adventure?” Fisher laughed. “We’re going to make a killing on this belt. If any trouble comes…we will warp and jump back out.”
My father started his mining career wildcatting this way, but he had never taken me mining in a lower security system before. However, I’d actually been in Wicked Pass before. When I received my pilot license I had soloed in Wicked Pass with a fast frigate for the thrill. It was a bit of a tradition in Gamut, a coming of age thing you bragged about in the pilot’s bar. That had been two years ago. There had been no reason
to go back.
“Gang warping,” dad declared, taking us away from the safety of the guns.
“Warp drive active,” my Navicom announced, as dad’s override directed our Crabs to follow him. I used that moment to get my bearings on the location of the sun and the other stargate, the other important objects in the system.
It was a long warp. The initial streams of blurred yellow lights grew and formed glowing lines around us, as the slip-stream tunnel narrowed. It felt like our Crabs would collide. Our vessels gathered together like bees swarming towards to an intruder. In fact, just beyond my protective shield, Fisher bunched up to my Crab as if he intended parking next to me on a flight deck. My dad was just above us.
Over the gang’s private channel, Fisher said, “When I gave Ben the ore scan results and the belt’s coordinates he cracked open that bottle he kept in his desk drawer. The belt has Zydracyte in it.”
My dad laughed. I didn’t say anything. My sister had bought that whiskey bottle to celebrate her new planet side employment. Dad had thrown it in his draw, stating ‘we’d never open it. Who would celebrate traveling to live on a planet?’ They had a terrible fight. She left and that bottle became a painful memory for all of us. Now I felt he had betrayed her somehow, so it soured my mood further.
“Where is your adventure?” Fisher laughed. “We’re going to make a killing on this belt. If any trouble comes…we will warp and jump back out.”
My father started his mining career wildcatting this way, but he had never taken me mining in a lower security system before. However, I’d actually been in Wicked Pass before. When I received my pilot license I had soloed in Wicked Pass with a fast frigate for the thrill. It was a bit of a tradition in Gamut, a coming of age thing you bragged about in the pilot’s bar. That had been two years ago. There had been no reason
to go back.
“Gang warping,” dad declared, taking us away from the safety of the guns.
“Warp drive active,” my Navicom announced, as dad’s override directed our Crabs to follow him. I used that moment to get my bearings on the location of the sun and the other stargate, the other important objects in the system.
It was a long warp. The initial streams of blurred yellow lights grew and formed glowing lines around us, as the slip-stream tunnel narrowed. It felt like our Crabs would collide. Our vessels gathered together like bees swarming towards to an intruder. In fact, just beyond my protective shield, Fisher bunched up to my Crab as if he intended parking next to me on a flight deck. My dad was just above us.
Over the gang’s private channel, Fisher said, “When I gave Ben the ore scan results and the belt’s coordinates he cracked open that bottle he kept in his desk drawer. The belt has Zydracyte in it.”
My dad laughed. I didn’t say anything. My sister had bought that whiskey bottle to celebrate her new planet side employment. Dad had thrown it in his draw, stating ‘we’d never open it. Who would celebrate traveling to live on a planet?’ They had a terrible fight. She left and that bottle became a painful memory for all of us. Now I felt he had betrayed her somehow, so it soured my mood further.