Eve: Day 8

Ezekeil Rage, Log Book, Day 8

If my life before now was as a miner, I don’t know how I got through it. It consisted of the most god-awful tedium I can imagine. Don’t get me wrong, the lead-up is interesting. Sending out probes to hunt a system for anomalies, adjusting their settings and repositioning them almost seems like an art form. Finding a myriad of results and chasing down the one I want feels like solving a puzzle. But then I arrive at the asteroid, and all conscious thought ceases.

I flip on my mining laser, open the cargo hold, and let the computer sort and pull in the bits of ore it deems fit.

Days of this. I had maybe 30 minutes of interesting work followed by hours of dull drudgery. The innovations of machines doing the work for man didn’t come about because they can do it better, it came about because no sane man want’s to do this. I don’t even get the reward of hard labor, the satisfying exhaustion that tells of exhaustion and honest work. Hell, I can’t even get any decent exercise in, the ship doesn’t have the space for it, all cargo, no corridors. I’m trying to keep in mind that this is my start. From here is where I build my foundation. Get through this, and I can gain some freedom and wiggle room to explore the secrets of my head.

So, when I had hauled the predetermined amount of ore our contract had agreed upon, I closed ship with my final hold, and headed back to dock. I had been manufacturing all the ore myself to save on the cost of someone else doing it for me. I probably lost a bit more in waste due to inexperience, but not so much that the exorbitant prices those bastards charge would have been worthwhile, it just meant I had to spend a little more time on the project, and time is what I had in abundance. The work was dull, passive, and required almost zero thought on my part, but it turns out the pay was good, and I got a bonus for finishing so quickly. Here I thought I was being slow. Apparently promptness and hard-work are not common factors with the contractors. I left the agent’s office, considerably richer than we first met, with a warm invitation for more contracts if I so desired. I left her with a vague, non-committal promise, with no-intention of doing that for anyone else again. I had learned valuable lessons doing this, and that is more important than the isk.

My next step, is to get a few different ships, and make as many contacts across this space as possible. I still have no idea who I was before, so any type of job could lead to my former life. I have to be open to everything. No matter how dull it is.