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Mercury’s Path
Day 1: Arrival at Chandigarh
After weeks of subspace transit, we finally arrived at Chandigarh. The journey was rougher than usual due to the radiation pockets, engine flares, and a hull breach scare that left me wondering if my ship, “Mercury’s Path” had enough fight left in her. But here we are, safe in orbit around this bustling hub of trade and commerce.
Chandigarh is an odd mix of advanced infrastructure and old-world charm. The spaceport, a sprawling complex of landing pads, docking bays, and logistics centers, sits surrounded by sprawling low-rise settlements and some of the greenest lands I’ve seen in years. It’s like arriving at a sprawl city on Earth, but with a modern touch.
My cargo hold is loaded with medical equipment which includes highly specialized gear intended for the clinics and emergency stations scattered across Chandigarh’s rural and industrial zones. This is essential stuff, the kind that makes all the difference in the planetary sector hospitals, especially with some new viral outbreak everyone’s whispering about.
Day 2: Docking and Unloading
The docking bay was packed when we landed, and the wait time was murder. Turns out, I’m not the only one bringing in medical supplies. There’s a fleet of ships coming in, all carrying various supplies to handle what the locals are calling the “Red Flu.” It’s a nasty bug that’s taken root across a few densely populated districts, and people here are desperate for supplies.
My contact at the spaceport, a logistics officer named Harinder, met me with the unloading crew. Efficient and to the point, he didn’t waste any time on pleasantries. I watched as my cargo was transferred to Chandigarh’s medical response vehicles. Knowing this equipment would make a real difference felt good, but there’s always the pressure of deadlines and expectations.
Harinder took me aside, slipping me a data chip with details for another potential run. Chandigarh’s government is willing to pay a premium for more supplies if I can bring them in by next week. It’s tempting, but the risks are high, every trader out here knows the space lanes aren’t as safe as they used to be.
Day 3: The Market and Meeting Other Traders
After my cargo was delivered, I spent the morning exploring the market square near the port. Chandigarh is a melting pot of cultures, and the market reflects that. Every stall sells something different, from spices and handwoven textiles to advanced tech mods and weapon upgrades. It’s a feast for the senses and a chance to meet other independent traders like me.
Over a cup of hot chai, I met Farid, a fellow Mercury-class captain. We traded stories about tight landings and engine malfunctions. He mentioned a few secure routes he’s charted in the sector. I traded him some intel on port fees and local inspectors to watch out for to avoid Chandigarh’s “creative” customs officials.
There’s a camaraderie among us independents, but competition is fierce, especially with supply prices soaring. Every run is a gamble, and some of us won’t make it back with our hulls intact. But that’s life out here on the edge.
Day 4: An Offer I Can’t Refuse
Just as I was preparing to head back to the ship, I received a message from Harinder. He wants to make a deal with a direct contract with the Chandigarh Medical Coalition. It would be a series of high-risk, high-reward runs over the next two months, transporting everything from supplies to specialized personnel. The pay is double the usual rate, but the routes he’s suggested are perilous, skirting known pirate zones.
I’ve got a decision to make. I can use the credits, and so can my crew. But the thought of running medical supplies through disputed zones is enough to give even a veteran like me pause. Still, the job offers stability and a connection with Chandigarh’s government, and that’s not something I can ignore.
I’ll sleep on it, but something tells me this opportunity might just be worth the risk. Out here, you take the chances you’re given.
Journal of Tessa Monroe, Independent Trader