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UNKNOWN LOCATION, 17:14, CRETIAN TIME
A younger aged man of hispanic descent sits in front of the screen, wearing civilian clothing. His eyes are squinted tightly towards something offscreen, and his arm is outstretched over the top of the display, but he brings it back quickly
"We on tape..? Yeah.."
He brings his attention towards the screen, clearing his throat
"My name..."
He quickly looks away as his expression sinks, exhaling. "This is so stupid," can be heard in the background. He soon brings his face back, regaining his composure
"My name is Cesar, of the Aguilar family. I am making this video series as a precaution, in the event that I go missing, or... worse. To whomever is watching this, if you are of Apostatas, I hope these are of use, and my efforts aren't in vein. If you are not... just do me a favor and get this to my hermanos. Eh... hopefully if things go well, I will not need to include this recording in my report, but... better safe than sorry, right?"
He takes a moment to cough, looking away from the screen
"Anyways, enough with the sad stuff. So, my mission. I am an explorer, long-range reconnaissance, out to see the world beyond. I'm living something out of a childhood dream, going out to the wild with curiosity in my heart, like some... conquistador. Ah, but at least those folks had company, heh. Me? It's just going to be my ship and I."
He pulls to the side of the display for a moment, allowing a view of the Scimitar parked behind him, likely in some isolated hangar. He then fills the screen once again
"Her and I are gonna be meeting quite a few people, from a lot of places. I need to get good at talking, getting information, knowing how to read people... A skill I'm quite underdeveloped in... Actually, there's a lot of things I'm worried I'm not ready for."
He sighs, appearing a bit frustrated with himself.
"No drama. Right, so... Sirius is a big place, and I've got a job to dig up a lot of it. I'm gonna use this series to document whatever I find, tactical information, system layouts. Who knows... perhaps even something to change our fight for the better. I just hope I find it in time, preferably not late enough to take it to my grave. Anyways, I should probably cut this. Best of luck to myself, I guess. Whatever that means."
He reaches up past the screen to kill the footage.
"The next tape should be a little less ragtag, better formatted. This is Cesar Aguilar, signing off."
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SIGMA SYSTEMS, 18:20, CRETIAN TIME
"Buenos Dias Hermanos, or eh, Konichiwa from the fine people on this station. A few kilos away, people would be saying Bonjour. I'm in that area, you see, where two nations meet, and I intend on crossing it.
I, eh, took the liberty of reading our databanks. Mind you, I was subtle. We appear to have less... clairvoyance on Gallia's systems than would be desired. Hopefully, I can change that. Now, now, I will do so with subtlety, I'm no fool to say the nation has open borders. Perhaps I can come into contact with some of the, eh, overlooked parties within, gain some data in the process. That's as much as I can say right now.
There are other issues that are plaguing my mind however. As I was travelling, I had an encounter in Theta. A scientist was residing there, and his tongue was loose enough to speak of a project by our misguided Hermanos, the Brotherhood. It appears to lie within civilian purposes, that being the irrigation of Crete's soil. Still, it leaves room for speculation. Why pursue that route? Watering the dirt will not bring life to a dead world. Perhaps there is something I've yet to bring light to, maybe I'm just overthinking it. Nonetheless, when I can spare the resources, I will devote more time to this matter.
On to logistics, the cloaking array I recently fitted to my vessel, thank you by the way, has been playing hell on my power supply. Now theoretically, the device is supposed to integrate seamlessly into the ship systems without fault. Military technology is meant to adapt, no? Yet that yellow bar is jumping all over the place when I activate it. It must be user error, perhaps I installed the thing wrong. No offense amigos, but you didn't exactly give me a manual. I will update you on this when I can.
Well then, besides that, I can't say I have anything else to add. I know this doesn't make much for a report, but I want to keep a somewhat consistent schedule with this, no matter how much or little has happened.
With that, I bid adieu. This is Cesar Aguilar, signing off."
Some background noise can be heard at this point, as well as him mumbling, "Oh, this damn camera better be working..."
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UNKNOWN LOCATION, (SIGNATURE TRACED TO RADIUS WITHIN CROW NEBULA REGION, DATA INCONCLUSIVE???)
10:30, CRETIAN TIME
Aguilar would appear in front of the screen, looking a bit sick, wearing a white thermal, with his hair and beard a bit grown out. He'd wince a little as he'd set himself down in a small wooden stool. His Scimitar, with noticeable scratches on the paint, and visible signs of heat damage, would be in the background.
"Buenos Di-"
He'd cough heavily, then take a moment to breath.
"Bue-"
He'd cough even more.
"Agh, blast it. So, uh... I'm a bit under the weather. The air here doesn't seem to agree with me."
He'd glance back towards his ship, letting out a sigh.
"And the old girl's not doing so hot either. Ion storm swept in as I was on the move. Particles got into her engine, the scanner, pretty much everything. Landing her here wasn't pretty. I hate to say, but it looks like I'm grounded for a good while."
He'd move back around, bringing his eyes to the screen.
"So, uh, I thought I might give a story or two on what's happened in between. Call them, erhm, informal reports. First, I want to give you some advice: Do not play with the nerves of Kusari.
So why say that? Well, listen a moment. So I'm just about done getting the Gallic regions scouted out when I get a transmission from some old friends of ours. The proud men and women of the Coalition, requesting me to RV with them in Sigma-13. I don't need to explain to you their relations with the folks a single jump away, or the fact that those folks have us under a hawk's eye, but, well, it could be worse.
So I was kind of between a rock and a hard place, and uh, I chose the rock. I agreed to meet them within the less hospitable zones of the Sigma-13 region, and came into contact within the hour. They were a courteous bunch, very well mannered. As a matter of fact, I found myself feeling quite guilty of my rough nature around them, but they were also quite forgiving. Back on topic, these people were scientists under the Hammer and Sickle, and were on a survey expedition of the notable environments within the Crow Nebula, particularly Nagano and her crown planet, Tomioka. The fleet consisted of a single carrier... Plesetsk, yes the Plesetsk, along with... what I recall to be a Typhoon Class Destroyer, the Indigirka... And the Svetlana, a gunship. Mind you, all of these vessels were refitted for research purposes, thus their armaments were relatively minimal. Heh, but that doesn't change much when it comes to Coalition vessels. Vulnerability was not their problem, either way, it was their lack of sight. They did not know the region very well, so they wanted me to tag along give them some pointers along the way. In tribute to our allies, I obliged.
For a while, things seemed to be going quite well. We surveyed the systems of Kyushu, Tohoku, and Nagano, exchanging friendly banter along the way. However, our sensor field pinged the arrival of a Kusari Naval fleet, so we then relocated to the Tottori system, and then towards Tau-44, which I admitted to have never previously surveyed. Unfortunately, the Kusarians had tracked us all the way, and we were intercepted by a large security fleet outside of a Crayter installation orbiting Planet Borneo.
At first, some rather harsh words were exchanged between the two parties, while I remained silent for most of the time. However, a hermano of ours from Azul squadron picked up my beacon and made contact within a minute. The tone of the conflict seemed to lighten slightly, probably due to the sudden presence of a Waran-model bomber. From there, the Kusarians agreed not to outright destroy us. We were escorted out of their territory, and we went our separate ways. I recommend considering this incident regarding our interactions with our neighbors."
He'd let out a last exhalation, giving a bit of a stretch
"Up from that point, I then went my own way. I resumed my typical activities of gathering data in the adjacent systems, up until I made the stupid mistake of being out and about when the ion storms rolled in.
So yeah. It's not pretty. Luckily, the Goldfinger Sensor has managed to stay intact, which is a godsend. I doubt I could ever repair it correctly if the worst came. Well, uh, not much else to detail thus far. Expect another report soon. As of now, this is Cesar Aguilar, signing off.
ERR
RECORDING ENDS HERE
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UNKNOWN LOCATION, (SIGNATURE TRACED TO GALLIC TERRITORIES, INCONCLUSIVE???)
6:30, CRETIAN TIME
The screen fizzles into a grainy picture, displaying the upper torso of a flightsuit-clad figure, his face masked by a visor. Faint white pixels in the background appear to be stars. The camera appears to be within the cockpit of a small vessel.
"Buenos Dias, Hermanos. It's been a while.
This may seem strange to you. I understand much has happened since my last tape. A lot of it I can't begin to recall without making this much longer, and I'm sure neither me nor the person watching this has the time."
The speaker pauses, as if awkwardly pondering what to say.
"You know, flying like this, alone; stuffed inside of a cramped cabin, oxygen being constantly shoved down my throat, mere centimeters of glass between me and the stars beyond... I never got to appreciate it. Things moved so fast for me, in this... organization, I mean. I kept working and working, moving my way upwards, never slowing down to acclimatize; to take a moment and breathe. But now things are quiet, and it's just me.
I... I haven't felt like this in a long time.
Look, I know this isn't of any tactical use. Hell, you can throw this recording aside right now if you want. But if you're curious, I guess you can listen on.
I was born frail and sick; in both mind and body. In my younger days, I couldn't even stand. And talking... it just never clicked with me, not until much later. I had no place in the masculine world of my people, and my mother, fearing for me, hid me away. I became the family secret. I never knew my father, I think he died before I got to meet him.
I was left with books, schematics, academic articles. I was taught to be a good reader, at least. I was really into reading about ships, particularly. Something about the shapes, I guess. I loved drawing them, throwing on little spoofs of my own, childish touch. The Kusari ships were always my favorite, they reminded me of fish. They still do, actually. I swore I would fly one someday, can you believe?"
He chuckles to himself slightly
But eventually I got older. Was able to move around on my own, talk without a lisp. I started to explore. My family, at the time, lived on the Blanco Mesas. We had a small community, grew mushrooms from what little dew there was. It was cool to run through the valleys, though, try your best to climb the rocks. There were a few dogs, even. I loved being around them. They didn't care who you were as long as you brought food, and I brought a lot from the fields, under the noses of my elders.
We also had this big building made of sandstone, for religious purposes, called a, uh... mission, I think? Heh, my folks were kind of weird, had their own traditions."
A bit of light catches on a piece of jewelry hanging around Aguilar's neck. He pulls it up with his hand, revealing a gold crucifix.
"My mother told me never to take this off. Otherwise he wouldn't be able to find me. Didn't ever know who he was, maybe my father? I was confused, and a bit skeptical, but I loved her, and I hated to disappoint her, so I've kept it.
I shared my life with three other brothers, all of them older and stronger than me. But none of them were mean to me. They loved me like I was one of them, though I could never keep up with them in their games. When they smiled at me though, there was always a hint of pity or sadness in their faces, like they knew something was going to happen to me.
It was a relatively slow introduction to the rest of the world. Wasn't until I was 13 when I got to see our empire in its full glory, and that's when things got hard. People could see me for the first time, and some saw a worthy victim. But I was never alone. It was a notable fact that my brothers got in more physical confrontations with the local populace whenever I was brought along to the city.
But then came my fateful year. I was fifteen when the reclutadors showed up. My world changed in an instant as I was taken from my family along with my brothers, to a scary, unknown place. We sat with other kids, huddled together in the bed of a truck, the moon over our heads. Two days passed, and as we got off, starving. They immediately began forcing us to run and jump and climb. Day after day after day. I could never keep up with the other boys. Life was hell.
That is, until I was plugged into the flight simulator. Suddenly, I was no longer the weak one. I began to acclimatize, while others failed, and were sent to be footmen. Moving was no longer a struggle, I wasn't begging myself to take a step. Every motion was precise, calculated. A quick, light flick of the hand rolled you over twice. You could jump from stillness to breaking the sound barrier, nay, the speed of light, within seconds. I wondered if my brothers felt the same way. I wondered if my mother knew this would happen. I wondered if he made me for this.
I wasn't tethered to a computer screen for long. My first time in the seat was in an M5 Decurion, training version. It wasn't spaceworthy, could only fly in the atmosphere. But from then on, people began to watch me. Some even said I was good, real good.
And then came that day, when they told us to break the barrier of blue, and fly beyond towards the black. I remember being a bit scared at first, and I wanted to vomit out of terror when the craft shook violently as it flew up and up and up... but suddenly... I was free. There was no up, or down, or sideways. Those so-called laws of nature were now decided by me. I was in control of everything. And I'll never forget the sky, this beautiful mix of orange, red and green, like some abstract painting.
Truth is, I didn't like learning to fight. Yeah, call me a wuss. It wasn't that I was afraid, I just had no interest towards killing people. Really, I just wanted to fly, more than anything. But if the sky was my kingdom, I guess I had to learn how to protect it. I wasn't exactly the top guy, that spot went to my brother Rico, but I wasn't a pushover. I was definitely in the club of so-called aces in the making, the cool kids group. And for the first time in a while, I was happy where I was."
He pauses, wincing behind the visor. The oxygen mask amplifies a deep breath he releases.
"Sorry. This part's kind of hard for me to talk about. We all knew about the trial, a near suicidal dive into the Malvada, but instead of clams you were looking for purple rocks. We all acknowledged that people would die. That's how it works, the strong carry on. That in mind, I figured at least me and all my brothers could survive. We stuck together, suffered together. We were all aces and this was just another obstacle.
But then came that day. We flew in as a formation, but we had to split as soon as our sensors were scrambled by the cloud. That was a rule you had to follow. Then it was every man for himself, and you could only trust that your friends and family would be lucky as you were, if you were lucky at all. The higher-ups were nice enough to give you an estimate as to how long until the radiation would kill you: eight minutes on average.
I looked everywhere I could, in every nook and cranny of that damned cloud. The clock I'd set on my dashboard ticked away. 7, 6:30, 6, 5:30... until I saw that shiny refraction in the dust. I tractored the object into my hold and flew fast as I could to the edge of the nebula. The skies cleared, and I stopped, turning my nose back to the green mist, and I waited. They must've been having a bit of trouble I thought, as the clock hit 3 minutes. Then 2 minutes. Some ships broke the cloud, but none of them were my brothers. They were probably on their way back. Yes, they were going to burst out in a glorious three-point formation, like true champions of the Aguilar family. He would protect them.
Then the timer stopped. Zero.
It was just me.
That day, I realized a lot. Some of those ideas led me to where I am now. But...
Maybe even today, I'm still learning.... Perhaps I should just forget all about it, carry on.
Anyways, that's enough storytelling. Doubt I'll ever turn this tape in."
He'd place his hand on a button near the camera, sighing. Behind the visor, his eyes would focus right on the screen, as if he were looking towards the viewer
"But if you've gone and listened up to this point... Thanks."
ERR
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