Ze'ev was not quite sure how he had gotten to this point. Looking down at the floor in front of him, a KSP detective, bound at the wrists and ankles, gagged with a rag, beaten and bloody. The poor detectives only crime had been to disrupt Ze'ev's ship while he chased a DSE transport. Ze'ev was beginning to loose all semblance of civility, the darkness had over taken him. He had chased down the wyrm the detective was flying, opening fire without a word, he destroyed the vessel and tractored in the pilots pod. Returning to Shibukawa, he knew no one would interrupt him there, Patro and the rest never spent much time out there. He locked the pilot up and proceeded to torture him for hours, it was like all the pent up rage Ze'ev had felt, the powerlessness to turn the tide, he had done it all right, yet everyday there was another gaijin trader there, protected by these KSP officers, and the government, and even, as he had recently found out, Samura. All the rage he had carried with him the last years found their outlet on this poor KSP officer, Looking down at the detective, he raised his fist and began to pummel to man again.
Ze'ev awoke... for a moment he could not remember where he was, but then, slowly it started coming back to him.... He reached onto the table for his bottle of pills and threw a few into his mouth, getting out of bed he walked over to the counter and picked up a bottle of saki, pouring himself a shot and quickly drinking it. He had killed that detective last night, slowly pushed a knife into his heart, he had watched the life spill out of the of the man, the blood pooling at his feet. The man had stopped him, he was chasing a Gaijin, but this man, he was Kusari, yet Ze'ev had tortured and killed him much the same, with even more passion then he would a Gaijin, that thought stopped Ze'ev for a moment.... he did see this man as a traitor, these Kusari who protected the Gaijin deserved a fate worse than death, but unfortunate the only fate Ze'ev had to give was death.
Ze'ev spent more and more time alone, as the days passed on. At first spending most of his time on the Black Dragon or the Mama, but still he had to return to the Yacht. Ze'ev could not get over the feeling he could not trust his crew, every one of them could be a potential saboteur. He sent them all back to Kagoshima, and took a few AI droids off of Cape Soya, taking the time to program the basic operation of the Yacht into their memories.... finally he could be alone.. Walking the corridors of the Yacht, he was able to go interrupted, for days on end, time began to have no meaning for Ze'ev, and slept was no longer a concern.... the pills made sure of that... but he was beginning to hear a voice in his head... it was still at the edge of his perception, and he couldn't quite tell what it was saying, but he knew it was there none the less, calling to him... he felt it, pulling him, he was drawn by it, without even being able to identify it.... It wouldn't only be a matter of time he knew, till the voice was clear, till he knew what it was saying....only a matter of time, before he completely lost his mind to the paranoia, falling deeper and deeper into the darkness.
Ze'ev looked out the view screen, scanning, back and forth, watching the JH... he waited, and waited... hours on end, he was waiting for a particular ship. Thirty six hours he had been watching, sitting in his chair, not moving a muscle the entire time. One might mistake it for sleep, but Ze'ev no longer slept, his mind had become muddled, he couldn't figure out quite what was happening, but he knew he was changing. He had been hearing the voices for weeks now, but they were still just out of his ability to hear clearly. They danced around the edge of his consciousness, just out of his reach. He had come to accept them, to even gain comfort in them, while he was alone on the ship, he knew he was not alone in his head.
The pain surged throughout Ze'ev's body as the cabin de-pressurized. Holding on to the control panel he felt his body being pulled toward the gaping hole in the bridge. His mind quickly ran threw the past few hours. Ze'ev had been called by Hogosha Elder Ryuu, to help stop yet another Junker transport, this one carrying synthpaste. As Ze'ev raced to the scene, the Junker docked, on a Kishiro base. "Those bastards, they have turned their backs on everything it means to be Kusari." he couldn't help thinking to himself as he felt his fingers slipping from the command console. Ryuu had stayed at the station on the lookout when someone yelled in system about a Dragon nearby, Ze'ev's heart still racing he made for the Honshu jumphole, as he was on his way there, he heard Ryuu cry out over the comms, and his sensors reported the destruction of the Hogosha ship. Ze'ev made for the station again, finding a KNF gunboat, about to tractor in Ryuu's pod. This Kusari had attacked the Hogosha? Ze'ev was enraged, opening fire, he laid into the KNF gunboat, attacking with a ferocity that pushed the naval GB away from the station, allowing a wing of Hogosha light fighters to move in and recover Ryuu's pod. Ze'ev continued to beat down upon the KNF ship, dropping it's shields and eating into it's hull, suddenly a second KNF gunboat showed up and placed itself in between Ze'ev and his prey. The second officer pleaded for the ships to disengage, but the only thing Ze'ev could see was red, and he contained his assault on the offending gunboat, forcing the second to jump into the frey. Ze'ev knew he was out gunned and did not stand a chance, yet he continued on, pushing and pushing, suddenly the hull cracked and he felt the vacuum pull at him as he wall disintegrated.
Ze'ev knew he was dead, and he slowly resigned himself to it, slowly letting go, ready to throw himself into the vacuum of space. He no longer knew what he was fighting for. The KNF defending Junkers, GC supporting the Bretonians, Kishiro looking to undermined Kusari at all costs, and now Samura...Samura was working with outsiders on a regular basis, all the while funding the FA attacks on those same ships. Kusari was not the place he thought it was, it was not the place he was fighting for. Just as Ze'ev was about to let go, a voice cried out in his head. It was the voice, Ze'ev knew instantly, the one that had spent months in his head, hiding in the distant edges of his consciousness. This time though, it was clear as day, the voice had both tone and volume, it was real as Ze'ev alway knew it was. "Do not let go, I have work for you yet to do. You will have your vengeance on those who betrayed you, and you will be given the power to shape your own impact. Do not let go, reach out and hit the containment command on the panel." Ze'ev without really understanding why, reached out and hit the panel, feeling the emergency hull containment shields kick in, Ze'ev dropped to the ground hard, smashing his head against the bulkhead. Slowly he felt his gaze become blurry, his mind began to fog over, the last thing Ze'ev heard was the voice, "You will get your things, you will go to Tau 37, and you will meet the Hellbound...he will show you home." Ze'ev slipped further into unconsciousness, his ship, drifting lifeless in space.
Ze'ev awoke with a start, everything was a blur, like a dream. The last thing he clearly remembered was the Revenent's call. Getting to his feet, Ze'ev realized he was in the hold of a Mamuru bomber. What he was doing there he had no clue. As he walked up to the cockpit, images began to flash through his mind. The Temple, Pitchfork, Nightsmoke, Glock. He knew what the images were, but he could not figure out how. Sitting down in the pilots chair of the bomber, Ze'ev immedeatly felt at home. He had helped to design this bomber, fleet of foot and able to pack a pucnch was how Ze'ev had first descrbied what he wanted to the designers. Grasping the throttle, more images came to him, his bomber tearing through a wing of Bretonian bombers, then a wing in Liberty, eplosions, deaths, a wave ran through the man. He knew he had done horrible things, he knew that before the call. Ze'ev Barak knew he was a man who had given up morality for reality. Checking his system, Ze'ev found himself in Tau 37, at least 300 K from anywhere. Ze'ev reached for a bottle of water, turning his hand he noticed a scar on his inner forearm, about 6 inches long. He flashed back once more, Glock, cutting into his arm. Shaking his head, Ze'ev set a course for the one place he figured he could hide till he figured everything out, Cape Soya station. Looking at the date Ze'ev was shocked... 3 years..... he wondered if Cape Soya was even there anymore. Although he figured it would be, he also figured the old back door code he had put into the security system would still be working.....
After spending a few days on Cape Soya, Ze'ev was ready to move. He didn't want to put his old friends on Cape Soya in danger, and he didn't know who would be trying to track him. Ze'ev knew he couldn't risk staying in Kusari. Even with all those who would still give him aid, he was too well known in Kusari, it wouldn't take long for word to reach the Emperor himself that Ze'ev wasn't dead. Ze'ev wasn't ready for that to happen yet. In time.
Ze'ev launched into the cloud, thinking where he could go where he could lay low and be safe. He knew the Fool would always have him in Baffin, but that was a bit too close to Kusari for his tastes. The Omicrons were always a place a man could hide, and he still had some contacts on the Council of Elders. Ze'ev had never much cared for the Omicrons. He had always felt at home with the Gaians. Although those relations had been stressed during his time with the Empire. Maybe it was time to head back to the Green Hell and check on his ole friends. Ze'ev quickly shot off a message to the Gaians and set a course.
As he flew, memories flooded Ze'ev's mind. He was still having trouble decoding the memories, little snippets of images, voices. It was taking Ze'ev longer than he had expected to shake these feelings.
The trip to Islay took longer than Ze'ev had remembered, although that was mainly because of the buildup of Kusari and Bretonian forces in the Taus. The stalemate Ze'ev had seen in it's infancy was now a route. The KNF had pushed to Planet Leeds. The Bretonians were fighting pitched battles all over the Taus though. Ze'ev though about how suprised he was with the zeal of the Bretonians. Ze'ev had always though the spineless cowards. While he still didn't think highly of them even now, the pluck they had shown was something.
Ze'ev had zoned out when the image came up in his vision. He had forgotten it, the beauty brought tears to the mans eyes. As his view of Gaia crystallized, he remembered just why it was he kept coming back to this place. Finding a low orbit that would keep him basicly hidden from any normal patrols, Ze'ev pulled out his meditation made and sat down.
Slipping into the dock at Islay, Ze'ev though back to his first time here, the meeting with Sean Dawson, all those ages ago. He though about how far he had come, the good and the bad. He knew he was a different person. There were things about himself he no longer had any control of. The almost rabid urges that came to him in the darkness, the hallow, empty voices that echoed in his head, almost like they were voices, cut of in mid formation.
Ze'ev made his way down to the Green Hell, almost as if on autopilot. He had been here so many times, he felt very comfortable here, although when he walked in he didn't see anyone he recognized. Getting an Irish Whiskey from the bartender, he made his way to a dark corner on one of the lower levels. Sipping slowly he closed his eyes and let the life fill him.