Opblog #3

Running narcotics and firearms into war torn anarchy systems is a risky business. My firefly class ship is looking a little bit puny compared to some of the pirates that I've met, but I've cleared 120000 credits (and picked up a criminal record) so I think it is time to find a high tech planet, get some decent shields and a military laser, and find a wormhole to the other side of the galaxy so I can do a bit of bounty hunting and raise my profile from 'mostly harmless'.

Time to see the surgeon. He explains the procedure to me again (that makes five times now) and marks the vein he is doing with a permanent marker. I sign the form and ask about the bit that gives consent for 'any other procedures that may be necessary'. Apparently there aren't any, so hopefully that means they won't be whipping off my leg without my say so.

Back to the waiting room again ...