“Ah another white wormhole. These are usually fun. Well, except that one.”
#560 shudders as he remembers barely escaping a planet infested with arachnids that had an obsession with adding him to the dinner menu.
He still couldn't figure out why hot dogs were littered everywhere on the planet.
“Pre warp checks passed, window plants are juiced up and sharing with each other, radar shows zero threats. What a perfect evening."
He looked out of his windows at the space surrounding him. Not many chose ships with no panels, but he preferred it this way.
“Keeps my mind clear and allows me to enjoy the scenery.” He had said that a hundred times if he said it once.
#560 is a true Wanderer. The epitome of someone who never feels quite at home unless home continues to change and lend itself to new adventures.
Always on the move. Never lost. #560 has learned to embrace the journey over time. It wasn't always this way. He used to have an address.
At some point that changed. He wasn't quite sure when and he wasn't quite sure how. All he knows is he was tired of the monotony.
He was tired of being attached to the highs and lows in life. Falling in line with so many others, most of who weren't truly happy.
After selling every asset besides his spaceship, he took the $DUST he had made from profit and his own savings, and became a Wanderer.
There are many types of Wanderers, 8888 to be exact. All unique, all with goals and dreams. Feelings of joy and pain, love and loss.
But he was a true Wanderer. Or so he told himself. I'm sure many would disagree.
He was now part of The Syndicate. A mercenary for hire.
The type of people who mysteriously appeared when one had a problem they wanted handled anonymously.
The type of people who let $DUST do the talking and had a habit of sitting down in the evening with some of the most exotic space weed.
Some people despised his type. They just didn't understand. He lived by a code. A code that he would never break.
Sure his morals were questioned by some (or many), but he never wavered from what he believed, and he believed that was most important.
One day he knew he would give up the Syndicate lifestyle. It wouldn't be easy. He was truly happy at this point in his life.
Once a member of the family, always a member of the family.
But a true Wanderer never stops, even for a family that rarely meets in the same place twice.
Even The Syndicate had a level of structure and organization that he knew he would shed at some point.
“It's all about wandering. Never stopping, never lost.” #560 repeated this to himself before every warp. Just in case.
Time to put on his favorite Landos Soundo track “The Ponderer”. That always set the mood.
He dialed in the last bit of data using his hologram, then jammed the antennae forward.
“See you on the other side."