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Young woman walked to a laptop lying on a metal table. Room around her was dark and lit by single flashing bulb hanging from a ceiling. Distant machines were filling darkened room with a pleasant hum. She stared at the laptop’s screen for a while and then ran her left hand through her short shaggy dark hair. She was clearly thinking about something. Finally, she sighed and sat down in metal chair in front of her laptop. She rubbed her right bandaged hand with a fresh wound, then unlocked her laptop with her voice and began voice recording.

„Greetings, journal, my name is Maia. I had some very risky days recently, so I came to conclusion, that my best course of action will be writing some kind of journal in case of my demise, so others might know who I really was.

Chapter one - The Introduction

My name is Maia. I come from Freeport 9 in Omicron Theta. I have a family name, but I choose to not use it, as I don’t really like it. Besides – I’m the only Maia known around Freeport 9.
I’m from a Zoner family. We were always light cargo pilots. Moving supplies from Houses to freeports or between freeports themselves. We weren’t exactly rich and so we are using small and fast freighters or even shuttles. Only few of my relatives flew fighters.
As with our heritage – it’s really hard to tell. Zoners don’t really care about nationality and my family is the same. We are probably mix of them all.
I was born 808 A.S. on Freeport 9. My childhood was mostly fun, as on freeports we are usually one big family stationed far away from any immediate help.
When I was growing up, I became fascinated with stars and venturing beyond. I saw my future as pilot in a ship. Not exactly big ship, but ship big enough to call it my own. My parents and cousins taught me how to fly, and in my 15’s I was well aware about the basics. My first flights were just around station with supervision. With the age of 16 I was able to fly on my own.
On my very first independent flight I became addicted to high speeds. Now my dreams were all about exploring stars all on my own, flying the fastest ship in the Sirius.
What I could do as a pilot, I couldn’t do as a person. I was always small and coward, easily being bullied by others during my teens. Everybody kept telling that I need to stand up for myself, but it wasn’t always easy. Well, to be honest, I never did it. So I run and learned to be polite, trying to appease them with my behavior. I never became fan of violence, and couldn’t defend myself. Well, as I’m writing this right now – I still can’t.
I don’t get along with others, but I have my redeeming qualities. I’m quite good pilot if you don’t count shooting. I can fly very long hours, even days, and never to become too tired or uncomfortable. My Zoner upbringing also taught me how to repair, maintain and even slightly modify ship for my own needs. All these things are very handy.

Chapter two - The Order

I what? Well, I did. I really sign in. Curious to know why? Well, I have a good reason. As you see, I would be pretty happy as Zoner or even Freelancer. But there is one catch and that are those scary aliens. I really fear them and I think I’m certainly not alone. Few my cousins try to fight them, but they died. Or worse.
As I really don’t like violence, I don’t feel there is any middle ground with those space fish. They tried to enslave mankind after all. And there is only one group which managed to defeat them almost thirty years ago – The Order.
So, I signed in. I offered myself as small snubfighter pilot and scout and they took me in. It’s not so flashy service like you see in navies propaganda – I mostly fly alone in deep space and listening to my customized sensor suites for any suspicious activity. I check stations and ships and looking for any alien signs.
Most excitement comes from Order enemies trying me to chase me down or from inhabitants of the dubious station I have to use from time to time. My most recent experience comes from conflict with dangerous Outcast, but that’s a story for another time.
All right, that’s all I could tell you about myself, journal. Maia signing out."

She finished her voice audio recording and examined voice-words transcription. She nodded with visible relief and closed laptop shut.

Maia walked towards her laptop and sat on the simple metal chair in front o fit. She looked slightly more tired than usual. Her eyes told the unspoken stories of dreads and fears. She looked exactly the same way as the other young rookies after their first hot mission.
Maia reached for a small bottle and knocked out two pills from it, which she immediatley after ingested and drank with glass of water. Then she turned her laptop on and started voice recording another chapter of her journal.


“Chapter three – Primary fleet, new assignment

Allright, where to start. Well, as you guess from the name of this chapter – I was accepted into the Primary fleet and passed through all these medical checks. I was really surprised when they contacted me and said yes. It felt really good – to have place and meaning in this universe.
Not everything went according to a plan, as I was diagnosed with rare disorder called „class 7 low gravity syndrome“, which basically means that my bones and muscles are less dense than they should be, and I’ll need to take prescription during several weeks, maybe months, to fix this mess up. Even worse, I have to visit planet regularly and subject myself to its natural gravitation. And planets really don’t make me feel well – not only I get tired more quickly, but it’s also painful. It should get all better eventually.
But not everything is bad. Not long after I recovered from my first treatments, I was assigned to commander Alisa Tereshkova and her Crimson squad. She immediately sent me to my first recon missions to the Drake system, which is infested with nomads and their thralls.
I read about them, but facing them just few kilometers away was something completely diffirent. They were scary, really terrifying. Their voices were human and normal, but there was something else in their voice what made more sinister. Or maybe it was just my imagination fueled by the fact that I knew they were ones of them.
I was flying high speed circles around them, recording them on my sensors as best as I could, but I knew that one mistake will send me to their hands. My hands were shaking, my breath was shallow and I felt my heart right inside my neck. And all of this I was doing several hours a day, few days in a row. But when I was writing report back to my commander – I felt it was worth it. I felt that I done my part, even if it was just tiny one.
My commander was satisfied, and after few days I got my first promotion. I’m agent-lieutenant now. I don’t really know if we won in the Drake or not, but that’s not really important now. I’m just a still fresh agent and not all informations gets to me. I’ve got now few days of rest, and then I’ll report to my commander – oh, actually commandant for another assignment.
What should I tell about her? I don’t know. It seems that all in the Crimson squadron are friendly to each other and I got several invitations for a drink. They little disappointed when I refused, as I have allergy to alcohol and can’t drink with them. Yes, I know, I’m not exactly a people’s person.
These are the all news I have right now. Maia signing off."

Maia finished her voice recording and closed the laptop shut.

Maia waked up with scream. She was sitting sweating and frightened on her bunk bed, and took a while to calm down. It was a nightmare dream. She doesn't dream it very often, but it disturbs her from time to time.
She reached out for a glass of water and drank it empty. Now, she was finally calm and focused. But she couldn't sleep any longer.
She reached out for her laptop, put it on her lap and turned it on.
"This is my special diary entry. I promised you story about that scary Outcast, so here it is.", she said, and began her story.


Chapter four – Outcast from hell

Small Onuris fighter was flying through one of the many debris fields in the Texas system. The ship was slightly damaged, but as scorched hull plating tells – not by gun fire, but by black matter storms. The ships was flying towards run down Junker station floating in the debris field and as soon as it got into communication range, opened comm.
„Beaumont station, this is the Order long range patrol, I’m requesting permission to dock.“, said Maia with slight urgency.
„This is Beaumont control, state you business on our station.“.
„My ship run into dark matter storm and is in need of some basic repairs and decontamination.“.
„Acknowledged, order patrol, you are cleared for docking. Follow signal to your assigned bay, control over.“

***

Onuris was already repaired and practically ready for departure. Maia circled her ship, checking through the open outer panels to make sure all systems were repaired as they should. But suddenly she heard a breath from a respirator. She immediately turned and tried to see any movement in the darkened dock.
"Hello, is anyone there?" She asked uncertainly of the empty dock.
However, the dock did not answer her except for the normal noise in the background of the station. She stared at the shadows for a moment longer, but she still couldn't see anything unusual. She felt bad about it, so she reduced her checks to a cursory inspection by her eyes and closing the outer panels as fast as she could.
She heard a breath from the respirator behind her back again. Maia froze and instinctively reached for pistol in her holster. She turned slowly to see a fairly tall, dark-haired, hispanic woman five meters in front of her. She had a respirator on her face. She was at least by a head taller than Maia and stronger at first glance. She looked young and beautiful, except for a cruel gaze in her eyes.

"So the station gossip was true, we have the Order's Dog here.", the unknown woman said coldly, but there was tension in the background of her voice.
Maia took a step back, her right hand still on her holster. She was afraid, worse, she was scared. Until then, she had only heard stories about Outcasts, but now, for the first time, she was facing one of them. What's worse, it wasn't a completely friendly meeting.
"I'm talking to you, sniffle! What are you looking for here?!”, said angrier Outcast, taking a step closer to Maia.
Maia took a deep breath and tried to calm down. She looked Outcast in the eyes and replied: "I'm not looking for any trouble, I'm not here for people of any faction.".
The woman was only more irritated by her attempt to alleviate the situation. She saw in front of her a potential enemy receding in front of her and shaking with fear. She didn't even care what Maia wanted to say anymore. She watched Maia's eyes intently. She is going to pull out the gun, Outcast thought.
The woman took another step toward Maia, who, exactly as expected, pulled the pistol from its holster and aimed it at her. She looked at Maia thoughtfully, calculating the risks. She had good movements, yes, she was relatively fast even for an ordinary person. But she wasn't a killer, her eyes betrayed that.
"Do you really want to shoot me at Junker Station?", Outcast asked, continuing: "Do you know what they'll do to you after that?".
"Not a step further.", Maia said softly, and when she hit her back on her ship, her fear intensified.
"What if I don't listen to you?" The woman asked, shortening the distance to Maia again. With her beast's gaze, she measured Maia in front of her. She tied her gaze and just inconspicuously threaded her right feet through the tool box lying on the ground.
"Then I'll shoot.", Maia replied, and in addition to the attempted threat in her voice, there was a wish.
"Okay, I'm not going any further," the woman smiled under her respirator and did not continue on to Maia, who was watching her intently and aiming her service pistol at her.

The woman took a half step back and raised her hands so Maia could see them. As Maia breathed with a sign of relief, Outcast took advantage of her inattention and kicked the toolbox with her right foot toward Maia. The toolbox threw her off balance for a moment, and by the time she recovered, Outcast was standing next to her, swirling her pistol out of her hand and throwing her behind her.
"Pistols are for the cowards." the woman snorted, pulling her knife from her back holster. She made sure her victim could see the long, viciously toothy blade.
Maia shouted, trying to slip out of the unfavorable position between the woman and the Onuris. Outcast, however, with her superhuman reflexes, grabbed her by the collar and pushed her toward the ship. The blade of the knife flashed in the dim light of the hangar, and the knife cut smoothly through the delicate skin, muscles, and jammed between the bones. Maia cried out in pain as a serrated knife slammed into the right palm of her hand, which protected her body in one last desperate defense. The blood from his severed palm began to drip onto the rusty floor of the dock. The Outcast released the trapped knife and instead broke Maia's five ribs with two powerful blows. She could no longer resist, and fell to the ground, half shocked. She gasped painfully and watched the Outcasts in fear as she put more heavy kicks in her stomach. Outcast exhaled in disappointment.
"Is that all there is to it? I found out about the Order's spy at this station, waiting for a fight with a seasoned lone wolf, and all I get is this whimpering puppy?“, Outcast walked away from Maia towards a pistol lying on the floor. She picked it up and examined it carefully.
"You fight like a Zoner. I wanted to kill you, yes, but when I see you here - I think I'll hurt the Order the most if I let you live. You can keep the knife as a gift, I'll take your gun. I always wanted one of these flashy toys of yours. Your superiors will certainly have fun when they find out how you lost it. "
Outcast looked back at the sounds of people approaching from one of the corridors, saluted with Maia's captured weapon, and disappeared into the shadows of the station.


Maia finished her story and closed the laptop shut. When she was talking about it, maybe she could feel a bit of relief.

Maia entered her room on the planet Akabat. As she walked, she felt a slight discomfort that disappeared as she reached the table and took two tablets from a bottle on the table. She drank them with two glasses of water and sat down on the sofa next to her laptop and started writing her next journal entry.


Chapter five – My new self

It's been more than half a year since I sat in the cockpit. After your past incidents, I have decided to undergo further treatment and training. Sirius is a dangerous place, and just because my previous weaknesses worked out one or two times before, does not mean that they’ll work every time.

Although the truth is that I was not so forced to do so by my previous incidents, but by an interview with our commander. His shared experiences with wilds and descriptions of their superhuman strength, resilience, and determination in battle forced me to rethink my life. They can and are infiltrating human society after all and my personal experience with them is just matter of time.

Immediately after my last recon patrol, I enrolled in advanced personal training for agents within our organization and spent the last six months there.
My treatment is going great. Normal gravity still makes me uncomfortable, but that's about it, luckily. Although I still depend on my medications, but as long as I take them and do my regular checks, I’m strong and tough as any other healthy human out there now.

I'm looking forward to flying among the stars again. In my trusty Onuris or any other ship if needed. It's just a bit of an irony that I’ll be more rusty behind the controls than I’m in a personal combat right now.


Maia finished her personal journal entry on her laptop and went into the hangar, to ready her snubfighter once again.