UNAUTH SIGNAL >>
Knock back a cup, for Jester has returned!
Might as well go ahead and knock back a few more while you’re hazarding a drink ‘cause a bit of the vert makes BOotyCall easier to swallow. You know, I’ll admit it, I’ve been missing doing these here broadcasts. It ain’t much, but it’s mine, if you get me. And it’s good to know that I’ve been missed, too. My commbox is fit to burst with concerned inquiries. A few weeks skipped and everyone thinks I’m sun fuel, but to all of you rending clothes and planning wakes, happy to ’fess that rumors of Jester’s demise were greatly exaggerated. My reentry wasn’t without a few bumps, mind you. Some out there were happy at the thought of my absence. Typical though, isn’t it? As soon as folks think they sniff a corpse, out come the vultures. Case in point, Eric, if you broadcast your Outlaw Roll Call show on my band one more time, we’ll be toasting to your memory next. Crystal?
With the violent threats out of the way, I’m sure you’re all gasping to know where Jester had vanished to. Well let me tell, it’s been a rough few. And no, I wasn’t pinched in QuarterDeck if that’s what you’re all thinking. Something much worse. Not only did I have to bear the hardship of not being able to jaw with you fine scalpers, but believe it or not your lovely Jester went out and got a job.
Not a job job mind you, more like a reg working stiff legit job. All right, fair enough that it was part of a longer con, but for all intents, yours truly was full clock and creds for almost two months. The whole thing was cooked up by Twist last year when we’re having a Citizen Day BBQ over at Pielo’s hangar. Halfway through her sixth tumbler of Rust, Twist gets a funny look, and lays the whole thing out picture perfect: we convince some outfit that we’re a shipping company, then they would just give us the loot. Our jaws just dropped. Twist’s like that. One of those types whose brain thinks clearer in a fog. We all agreed to it straight off. Was only a matter of finding the right ship at that point, and more importantly, getting me a place aboard.
Why me? Well, guess who out of the whole team was the only one with enough know how to run a scan suite? That’s right. Thanks to all my time broadcasting this fine slice of spec, Jester can twirl a knob smoother than most trained techs. Hard jump to me wearing a respectable cut and shaking hands with Captain Clueless who’s agreed to take me on for a three-month trial run to see if I was a good fit aboard the About to be Screwed. It was a rusted out dump of a ship for sure, but it ran well. Real well, actually. Hand selected for just that reason. It was small time enough to be off the grid while still pulling enough premium grade ore to be worth our time. You know, as easy at is to fake an IDTag, you figured a smart captain would put a little more time into vetting who they let aboard, let alone who they give system access to. But lucky for us, there’s plenty of not-smart captains. A scurrows gotta eat, eh?
The score couldn’t have gone off more bliss if I’d wanted. One minute I’m making chitchat with the Captain about how the best ballie sandwiches are made with scrounge and the next I’m feeding Twist all the clearcodes for the pickup sched. Then once a week for two months, Twist floats along in a cat blaring out the codes and regtags to pretending to be the hauler company that Clueless is supposed to be delivering to. Is it really stealing when the mark just hands you the tuck?
The final bit of bril is that I traced the whole thing back to an under-welder who they had working the scut. You should have seen him wailing his innocence when they threw him into the hold to wait for the Advos to come. Told them that I was leaving the contract early seeing how the crew had a criminal aboard. Captain actually apologized to me! Paid me the full contract and said he’d be glad to have me back. Almost felt bad for the slog, but I made sure to put those extra creds to good use. Toasted him with Twist and the others last night back at Blinder’s bar when we celebrated a job well done.
Speaking of, all this jaggin’ has started my head off again. Feels like a repeater stuck on auto. I think this is as good a time as any to mark the end of my triumphant return. Never fear. BOotyCall will be back. You can’t keep a good Jester down. Same goes for a bad one.