You know, I hate to hear about folk on the float turning on each other when the turning of the verse gets cruel. But I sometimes love a good balancing of the scales. This one's a bloody tale of revenge. Bless y'all's heart.
This here's a big fish story I got from Harlan "Dusty" McGraw, the oldest Gashound I've ever had the pleasure of meeting. Now, I typically discount the kind of stories that Dusty tells me out of hand when they come from anyone else, but I learned young and well to listen to folks who grow old in professions where most folk die young. Maybe y'all should, too.
Y'all may not know it, but I've got a job out here beyond just jawing. I'm not necessarily a search and rescue kind of guy, but every so often I gotta work for a living. And when I gotta work for a living, y'all best believe someone is having a bad day. I had misgivings about making this one public, but I think maybe y'all want to hear about a baby Belter having a rough day.
You know, the best thing about a Corp Job is that it ends. Unless it don't. Take a lesson from Doctor Addison Kincaid, formerly of Kilgore Mining. And once again of Kilgore Mining.
Y'all read your contracts twice.
Been a long while. Hopefully y'all have been keepin' on in the same manner in which I left you. Cause out here, things do have a tendency to get worse.
I told you, ain't none of us lucky. But we're not a Rockdog like Mic Arliss, stuck down in a hole and working off a one-way ticket to the edge of Concordat space. We ain't in the way when the Corps dig too deep and find something powerful strange.
Howdy Belters
Today we're going to talk about one of the stranger things about life out here on the raggedy edge, or at least gettin' out here to the raggedy edge. We're going to talk about Slipspace and the Angels that live there. It gets a little personal, so hopefully you'll indulge crusty ol' Chariot for gettin' on the soap box. Some things just gotta be said, y'understand.
Howdy Belters,
Y'all take a couple deep breaths? Grab a drink and something to eat? Y'all ready to get back in it? Milo Grigg's ready to do what he can to get himself back out of it. Them cutworms is closin' in. The hell you waitin' around here reading for.
Thanks again to Rook for hashing out just what can go wrong with Spacer's Patch. That was some good stuff, friend.
Howdy Belters. Y'all been waiting on this one longer than I meant for you to. There's a thin line between building suspense and just--y'know--disappearing. Fair certain that I can't see it from here, and I apologize for it. Hopefully, the tale of Milo Grigg and his Black Contract are enough of an apology to make us square.
Today, old Chariot's got a good one for you, Belters. We're talking about the thing that all wise Belters, leastways those of y'all want to live to maybe see retirement, fear. That's right, we're talking about the Rep. Our very own Man in Black come on behalf of the bank and the corps and all them that want to get us killed for our own greed. Don't you dare trust him.
Want to let y'all know we're getting powerful close to 1000 downloads, and I want to thank each and every one of y'all for it. But in lieu of that, I'm going to drop a link to our upcoming Kickstarter for the expanded version, and the physical version, of the game that inspired Dead Belt. If you're looking to see if you've got the makings of a Belter yourself, come check it out.
https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/acoupleofdrakes/deadbelt
Jesse Ford's having a bad day, Belters. What he thought was a rich prize, an old military frigate still lights on and holding atmosphere, turned out to be a ghost out of Jesse's past. Now, face to face with his own demons and a phantom Mech Jock who seems to know him, Jesse's got to find a way back to his ship. The ship that the haunts just decoupled and jettisoned out into space.
Just another day in the life of a resourceful Belter, right? Well, let's just wait and see.
Doc Burrell and I were swapping stories over a bulb of snakebite tonic, and eventually the talk turned to Jesse Ford. Mech jock that Doc'd known back in the bad old days.
They say you can't go home again, Belter, and any vet of the Consolidation knows that for certain and true. But Jesse? Well, Jesse might just --through no fault of his own-- try. It's a long story. But settle in and stick with us. It's a good one.
The Belt ain't claimed us yet, y'all. In light of it being the day after May Day, we've got the tale of The Catchfire Queen, the quick zipper courier that earned her place amid the legends of the Belt in fire and fear. Bright and Sturmwell don't want you listening to this one, but screw your ears on and hear about a good deal gone bad, and the legend that it spawned.
Never trust a sure thing, Belters. If it sounds too good to be true, it probably means to kill you somehow.
In this episode, we learn about the Last Call, a cursed transmission that's been floating and bouncing around the Dead Belt since the destruction of Wayfield Station. And we learn about Arnie Hutchins, a desperate survivor determined not to die gasping out here on the Frontier.
Remember to take care of each other, Belters. Else you might learn why they call it the Last Call.
Howdy, Belters. Chariot, here.
Figured I'd introduce myself with a little poem I jotted down for you. It's a kinder introduction to the Dead Belt than most of us get, so if you're new in these parts count yourself lucky. There'll be plenty of time to swap stories of doomed spacers as we go on, but for now you just float there and whet your appetite.