Earth is in the galactic boondocks, pigeonholed smack dab between the Sagittarius Arm and the Orion Spur way out on the Rim. There’s no real good reason to go there. It isn’t particularly known for producing anything of galactic significance except for their export of coffee . . . that dark, bitter elixir coveted by almost all civilized cultures, from the core worlds to the outer most backwaters. Yet here I am standing in the middle of dirt and desolation, my frigate cooling under the rays of a young G2 sun. Because there is one reason to make a side trip to Earth. One reason to divert precious cargo from well traveled trade routes. One reason to be a day late returning home.
Buddy’s Ice Cream Van. Rocky Road obligatory. Bumper sticker optional.