Smuggling is an interesting business. It begins with people sitting in massive edifices at the heart of the various capitals who write proclamations and indoctrinate vast hordes of sycophants and minions with their particular vision of right and wrong. Down through the machinery of government and policy these ideas percolate, infecting the entire organization with twisted purpose. As smugglers we live where these rulings from above clash with the demands from below, in a treacherous ravine that straddles the lawless and lawful sides of society.
Much of our activity is entirely legal. Even some of our drug products are accepted by the empires, such as synthetic boosters, implants, and skill books. Where we ostensibly 'go wrong' is when we connect otherwise law-abiding citizens with products they want but cannot legally acquire. In some cases this can be morally questionable - like slaves. Speaking as any free-thinking man should, the idea of owning other sentience is somewhat abhorrent at best. (blame the Gallente in me)
Boosters, on the other hand, are a morally ambiguous substance. Continued use over years can have a deleterious effect;on the other hand the vast majority of our lifestyles as capsuleers ensure any one clone doesn't live overly long. With the recent advent of infomorph psychology and jump clones, we don't even have to die to get a new body. Booster usage among capsuleers is sensible and should be legalized. The empires in all their wisdom decided however to consider us no different than normal, basic humans. Their misfortune, and the subsequent moral judgements handed down by their kind, afford us a lucrative business supplying the elite with what they want and need.
The thought fluttered away as the final gravskid was being jockeyed into place. These were small compared to the mineral skids I was more familiar with. The old minskids were hefty, beat up pieces of station equipment that looked perfectly at home in Minmatar refinery outposts. The gravskids currently loading material into the hull of my ship were similarly perfectly suited for the environment they were in - a Jovian-owned Impro station. Gleaming metal polished to a bright sheen contrasted with dull graphite grey composite, designed to handle only the most delicate biological and medical materials.
Ideal for the the quality of product we are known for. Strong boosters are not inherently unstable, but considering their price tag - millions of ISK for each individual dose - we take only the most stringent precautions. Contamination could also easily destroy the withered immune system of a pod pilot. Stuck in protective fluids and rarely exposed to humanity, any number of chemicals or diseases could prove to be brutal for a clone.
Operating in this Jovian station is also a keen benefit for our organization. The Jovian representative stationed here spent a great deal of time arranging for our operation to go unnoticed, with the sole cost to us being, shall we say, minimal in scope. Increased automation and the intense secrecy of the Jove allow much of our product to move about the entire station without even being seen by human eyes once.
Which is precisely how we like to operate.
