As some of you probably saw, I won a beach house in the Glittering Shores resort from my last batch of missile barrages.

As some of you no doubt know, I am not one to hold on to prizes from said missile barrages.

As some of you have surmised by now, I am selling the aforementioned beach house, now that the surprise of winning it has worn off. To Gadi Szova and Helgi, thank you for the welcome but it's just not my place.

However this is not a "Flakk Profit" inspired moment, it will still be sold at what any sane person would consider a loss. I am selling the property and its amentities for a single reason. An important one. This is something I do not think anyone knows, or has ever even considered about me. It's too much space for one man. This is *not* a pity request, this is some of my secrets laid bare.

"Flakk Profit" is just a cover for how incredibly empty anything larger than my interceptor feels to me. The haulers, freighters, corvettes, houses... any thing I've ever sold to anyone. I cannot stand the emptiness of all of it. I hate how my breath echoes in homes I procure, I can't stand hearing the hum of an engine space four decks below me. These places used to have life for me. My crew.

I used to have a crew with me. I don't anymore. I don't know where any of them are and I am not about to reform or join another crew until I figure out where my last one went.

So, buy my stuff, it's all so I don't have to live so close with my own ghosts and memories. Profit means nothing to me, because as an old human saying goes: "The real treasure is the friends you made along the way."

Real estate listings will be updated accordingly shortly after this post goes live.