When I was a boy I served on a freighter that regularly hauled ore to and from particularly ghastly regions of space. On one of these runs we picked up a distress call and came to the aid of a small antiquated cruiser that had suffered a severe engine malfunction and was dead in space.

The crew consisted entirely of hippies. Yep, damn hippies.

It took us three days and fifty jumps to reach the nearest civilized outpost. Our shipped reeked of Caldari hash the whole trip. When the hippies would get high, we endured their diatribes against the evils of the capitalistic ore trade. According to them, Amarian thocratic socialism would be preferable to the dog-eat-dog world of ore mining.

It was on that particular trip that I decided to devote my life to the the one honest profession I knew was guaranteed to piss off hippies. And that's why I'm a miner.