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  • It was really getting irritating. Corbin ran this thought through his head as he nursed a cup of bad synthetic coffee. The past year or two had escalated from mildly amusing to sheer hell. He had been chased, arrested, shot at, yelled at, left in the middle of pirate space, and even stabbed. The last one had hurt the most, both figuratively and literally. He had avoided fights most his life, kept his head down, kept his shoulders forward and his mind on the job. Shipping freight, transporting s…
  • There is a simple joy in shooting small ships with big torpedoes. Again, Corbin hadn't been looking for trouble, but at least this time, it had nothing to do with his looks. No, it would seem that the Xenos that had started shooting at him had no concern for his face, other than whether or not it had a missile sticking out of it, and they were obviously pro-missile. This was, however, more of a relief to Corbin than a bother. He had just gotten a new ship, and a little stress-reduction-by-means…