﻿Log 5: Not going anywhere

We sold the engines, like I said.

I’m pretty sure I’m richer now than I ever was on Earth. Still ain’t got the same elbow room like I did on the ranch - can’t buy back the sky no matter how rich I get - but hell, we have a *bar* now. With real alcohol. GOOD alcohol!

It’s… a little taste of what we lost. The best bits, anyway. An’ people come a long way to get a sample and trade. Ain’t no difference to us *what* they trade - guns, ore, food… there’s a fella down on the market deck sells nothin’ but jukeboxes and arcade machines. Not to mention all the services down there that folks can’t take home, like a haircut, or a little, uh, “affection…” 

So long as the station gets its cut, I don’t care what folks sell here. Feels good. Feels like home, y’know? 

Lotta room in this sky, though. And there’s lots places a long way from here ain’t got no central hub like Tranquility provides. I bet it’s only a matter of time before somebody else sets up a trade hub elsewhere in the sky, and from there… well. Human history basically boils down to tradin’ or fightin’.

Good luck to ‘em, I say. I can think of a few good spots where a trade station might make a real good living… Me, I’m gonna enjoy some more’a this fruit brandy then go see Vivienne and her girls for some’a their famous, uh… pancakes. <chuckles>

This was Captain Michael Raymond, CEO of Tranquility Hub. Happy trails.

++End Log++
