The problem with going back into imperial space is the whole 'acting like a citizen' thing. In the Outrim you can be yourself but among the imperials you have to mind your Ps and Qs.

So when you went to book a passage out of Mertactor you couldn't react the way you wanted to when the pencil-neck clerk smugly told you that the only ship going back into the Outrim had only cold berths left available. Absolute bullshit. If you wanted that sort of experience you'd just sit in the fridge, but no dice.  Well, when there's no choice there's no choice and if you want get back to Tortuga Outpost in time for the Venganza's next commerce raiding cruise you had to take what was available.

Cold sleep has never sat well with you. It's the whole 'trusting your life to a bunch of uninterested technicians' thing you guess. Out in deep space you can rely on your own expertise or your trust in the rest of the crew but this calmly lying down and being chilled down by a bunch of strangers is uncomfortable to say the least.

With this rattling around your head you took off your clothes and put on the green soft sleep coveralls, your bare feet sticking up under the covers, and shut your eyes. The last thing you remember is them fussing around with your head . . .

A klaxon was blaring nearby, it feels like it is right inside your head. You could feel movement and uncomfortably you also smelled bitter smoke. The surface you are on shudders to a halt against something. You open your eyes and see nothing, the usual result of cold sleep; it takes a few minutes for vision to return.

A computer generated voice cuts in, barely audible over the klaxon.

"Emergency. Emergency. Abandon Ship. Emergency. Emergency"

Your guts tighten.
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:57, Wed 17 Nov 2021.