CMDRs LOG:
DATE: 2383301
Xuanduna System
I wasn’t always a horrible person.
I wasn’t always an orphan either. I still have memories of me and my father watching the parade of ships making their return to our orbis station from deep space. I would fantasize that each one held a decorated combat hero, returning home to a fanfare of Imperial citizens and a relieved family anxiously awaiting their safe return.
“Someday Father,” I would tell him as we began the long walk back to our quarters, my forehead red and aching from pressing it against the glass. “I’m going to be great pilot, fighting for the glory of the Empire!” I can still feel his strong hands messing up my hair as he would rub my head. “I have no doubt that you will make me proud someday,” he would say.
He wasn’t always around though. When he wasn’t, that was when mom and I struggled for food. “Betting away our bread,” she would mumble between drinks of whatever it was the neighbor smuggled in for her. Whatever it was, it would put her out so good that she never heard my cries when the neighbor came back at night. She was very creative at inventing new excuses for her bruises.
I remember the day when my father was supposed to come home. Two Imperial soldiers arrived instead, escorting a rather large man dressed in wealthy robes. I couldn’t hear the exchange of words, but my mother got hysterical, screaming to the fat-man “Take my worthless son, leave me alone!”
The next thing I remember was waking up in an access tunnel covered in blood. A quick once-over told me the blood was not mine. The knife beside me however told me all I needed to know.
I hid for about 2 days I think, before hunger took the lead over caution. I hacked a panel and gained access to the closest quarters that I could find. Just as I was about to score some food two strong arms wrapped around me from behind, covering my mouth preventing me from calling out. “Do not scream boy, I mean you no harm,” the man said with a voice as deep as space itself. “I know who you are and I know of the hell you have endured. I am going to let go of you, and you are going to listen and do as I say.” The man proceeded to tell me how he was a friend of my father, and that my father had a terrible gambling addiction. He could no longer pay his debts and had sold himself and my mother into a period of slavery for 5 years. The man told me that as a stipulation, I was to be brought to him during this period and he was to act as my legal guardian. By the time he heard the commotion in the hallway however, my mother was already bleeding on the floor, beyond help. The guards were too distracted by the wailing of the injured fat-man to see me run off and duck into an access vent.
We left that night, smuggled out in some dark, smelly cargo hold to another station. The years passed and the man was good to me. I had food, a bed and an education. His health was failing however, and eventually one morning he left for work and did not return home. I was a legal adult by this time, and he left me everything he had; 100,000 credits and the title to a well-used Sidewinder. On the console of the Sidewinder was an encrypted data-stick and a note.
Fast-forward to today.
I’m still trying to find the fat-man. Best way to do that I figure is to go where the slaves are, but I’ll be damned if I’m ever a slave. Somewhere deep inside I realize that slave trading is wrong. Unfortunately I need capital, and slaves are providing me with that capital. Slaves have turned my measly Sidewinder into a proper Type-6; a transport that will hold even more slaves. And slaves will eventually lead me to the fat-man.
Now as I climb into the cockpit, I no longer hear their screams over the hum of the power plant. I always look down and read the old note, taped to the console:
“Wolves will hunt the weak. Even those strong enough to out-run the weak will eventually become the hunted. Do not focus on growing strong enough to evade the Wolves, strive instead to become smart enough to lead them.”
Then I set my destination and smile.
Besides… I’m a horrible person.
CMDR Wolf Lead
DATE: 2383301
Xuanduna System
I wasn’t always a horrible person.
I wasn’t always an orphan either. I still have memories of me and my father watching the parade of ships making their return to our orbis station from deep space. I would fantasize that each one held a decorated combat hero, returning home to a fanfare of Imperial citizens and a relieved family anxiously awaiting their safe return.
“Someday Father,” I would tell him as we began the long walk back to our quarters, my forehead red and aching from pressing it against the glass. “I’m going to be great pilot, fighting for the glory of the Empire!” I can still feel his strong hands messing up my hair as he would rub my head. “I have no doubt that you will make me proud someday,” he would say.
He wasn’t always around though. When he wasn’t, that was when mom and I struggled for food. “Betting away our bread,” she would mumble between drinks of whatever it was the neighbor smuggled in for her. Whatever it was, it would put her out so good that she never heard my cries when the neighbor came back at night. She was very creative at inventing new excuses for her bruises.
I remember the day when my father was supposed to come home. Two Imperial soldiers arrived instead, escorting a rather large man dressed in wealthy robes. I couldn’t hear the exchange of words, but my mother got hysterical, screaming to the fat-man “Take my worthless son, leave me alone!”
The next thing I remember was waking up in an access tunnel covered in blood. A quick once-over told me the blood was not mine. The knife beside me however told me all I needed to know.
I hid for about 2 days I think, before hunger took the lead over caution. I hacked a panel and gained access to the closest quarters that I could find. Just as I was about to score some food two strong arms wrapped around me from behind, covering my mouth preventing me from calling out. “Do not scream boy, I mean you no harm,” the man said with a voice as deep as space itself. “I know who you are and I know of the hell you have endured. I am going to let go of you, and you are going to listen and do as I say.” The man proceeded to tell me how he was a friend of my father, and that my father had a terrible gambling addiction. He could no longer pay his debts and had sold himself and my mother into a period of slavery for 5 years. The man told me that as a stipulation, I was to be brought to him during this period and he was to act as my legal guardian. By the time he heard the commotion in the hallway however, my mother was already bleeding on the floor, beyond help. The guards were too distracted by the wailing of the injured fat-man to see me run off and duck into an access vent.
We left that night, smuggled out in some dark, smelly cargo hold to another station. The years passed and the man was good to me. I had food, a bed and an education. His health was failing however, and eventually one morning he left for work and did not return home. I was a legal adult by this time, and he left me everything he had; 100,000 credits and the title to a well-used Sidewinder. On the console of the Sidewinder was an encrypted data-stick and a note.
Fast-forward to today.
I’m still trying to find the fat-man. Best way to do that I figure is to go where the slaves are, but I’ll be damned if I’m ever a slave. Somewhere deep inside I realize that slave trading is wrong. Unfortunately I need capital, and slaves are providing me with that capital. Slaves have turned my measly Sidewinder into a proper Type-6; a transport that will hold even more slaves. And slaves will eventually lead me to the fat-man.
Now as I climb into the cockpit, I no longer hear their screams over the hum of the power plant. I always look down and read the old note, taped to the console:
“Wolves will hunt the weak. Even those strong enough to out-run the weak will eventually become the hunted. Do not focus on growing strong enough to evade the Wolves, strive instead to become smart enough to lead them.”
Then I set my destination and smile.
Besides… I’m a horrible person.
CMDR Wolf Lead
Last edited: