Tomorrow is another day.

I smile. The past few weeks have been a living nightmare, moving my assets around space. But will it be worth it?

After a sad - but hopefully temporary - farewell to my friends and compatriots of the Guristas, I set out for pastures new. This new Corporation are fresh meat to turn and form however I can.
I have heard the ravings of the old men in my father's business meetings and paid them no heed. "The grass was greener on the other side?" Most of them have never seen grass, let alone seen the other side of anything but the asses they were kissing.

Five weeks ago:
A slight shudder of my Badger II then a fimilliar voice in her comm link "we're dropping out of warp speed, Captain. ETA to our new home in T-minus eighteen minutes." A chuckle escaped me as I imagine the havoc I could cause in my new Manticore class stealth bomber sat in the hold. "Very good crewman. As soon as we dock, I would like my new toy fitted and prepped for launch, we'll show these soft Empire pilots how to fight."

Yesterday:
With an interesting new visitor to my favourite haunt - Section 8, I thought it would be a good idea to catch some well deserved rest. After all, tomorrow is another day. What was it my grandfather used to say? Oh yes: deal with the hand you're dealt and always keep a few kings and aces up your sleeve.
I think you were right, grandfather, and I intend on using them.