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Excerpt from the diary of one Ander Hartvigsen
June 11, 813 A.S.
It's odd to me, to find myself so alone on my birthday. I feel incomplete without Leif. Without my brother. I still can't accept that he might be dead. But then, that's why I'm starting this journal. To help me deal with it. After having a twin to confide in, another me, one who understood everything I went through, all my thoughts, how could I talk to anyone else? So instead, I'll talk to myself, and hopefully get some answers from these logs. And to those who may find them once I'm gone, I hope they say a little about me, and who I am.

My brother and I were born 19 years ago to the day. 794 A.S., June 11, on the Battleship Altenburg in Dresden. My mother said that she and our father had just been stationed there, following our father's promotion. The Red Hessians attacked on the day we were born, in an almost tidal force. My brother never believed me, but I always said I could remember the ship shaking as I was born. Our father wasn't lucky enough to be at our birth, or even lucky enough to live through it. Shot down by a Hessian fighter, his escape pod was destroyed in the fire fight. I never knew him. Hell, I still don't even know his name. In the end, the military let us stay aboard the Altenburg, to be raised as war orphans. And trained to follow in our father's hallowed footsteps.

So many things have happened on my birthdays. In 805, my mother decided she'd take her sons elsewhere to be raised. "My boys aren't going to get shot at by some space degenerate," she declared. It was nearly as simple as picking us up, and catching the next shuttle out. Within 2 weeks, we'd made our way from Rheinland space to Kusari, then down to Liberty. I missed the battleship for a long time. I had no friends in New York where we settled, and I missed the pilots and soldiers, and playing in the flight simulators. All I had was Leif, and I clung to him. We were together always, through everything. Pranks, fights, petty theft. It was no surprise in 810 when we finally were encouraged to leave by our mother. She loved us, but I think she'd had enough.

It was Leif's idea to go back to Rheinland space. He wanted to revisit our "home", and kept saying things about "getting in touch with our roots". So we went. We didn't have the money to go through Kusari space, so we hired a less than honest trader to get us to Rheinland without going through customs. We made it back, and it was almost like we'd never left. We got onto the Altenburg with visitor's passes, but that didn't last long. The old soldier's who remembered Leif and I soon talked us into joining up. They even got our citizenship reinstated.

It really was like being home again. The same soldier's, same simulators, even some of the old friends. Soon, we'd settled back in, and resumed training. Leif proved talented in flight, graduating quickly from the training fliers, and was assigned his very own fighter. I didn't have his knack, but I caught on quickly enough. I always preferred something heavier, though. Something that I didn't have to worry too much about the pirates scratching.

Everything became normal. Flying defensive missions for me, or hunts for Leif. I didn't expect it to happen 2 weeks ago. We'd been back for 3 years almost. It never felt dangerous to be here before. It was home, and I had my friends, and the only family I ever needed. But he was taken away from me, and I was reminded quickly and brutally just how dangerous it can be on this battleship. 2 weeks ago, Leif went out on a routine hunt, chasing some light pirate fighter that the battleship turrets hadn't got. After 2 days without reporting in, they sent out a recon vessel. They found his entire squadron destroyed. Wreckages, bodies, scrap, and slag were all found. But not one piece of metal from the enemy ships, and not my brother.
Excerpt from the diary of one Ander Hartvigsen
October 7, 813 A.S.
I have reached a conclusion: I will not stay here. I've been in contact with my disreputable trader friend, and he's provided me with some information that might have to do with Leif's disappearance. It's a long shot, but there was a sighting of a ship Valkyrie matching the description of my brother's listing at the heels in Omega 15. I don't know if I'll find him, but I've already put in my resignation with the military, and have arranged for transport to the system.

I hope I find him.
Excerpt from the diary of one Ander Hartvigsen.
January 1, 814 A.S.
Murphy's law states "Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong." And so it has. Having made it to Omega 15, I find almost no trace of my brother. The one trail he seems to have left leads towards the inhospitable system of Omega 41. Even my friend the disreputable trader refuses to go there. At least until he has a formidable down-payment on an even more formidable fee. While I don't have enough to provide him with this fee, I find that I am perfectly equipped to earn my way in this desolate region of space. I have found that there are a large number of pirates active in this system, and where there are pirates, there are those who hunt pirates. I can't return to the military, seeing as it would be difficult to continue my search while under their command, but I learned of a station controlled by the bounty hunters near here. I hope they can provide me with some work, and some very important pay.
Excerpt from the diary of one Ander Hartvigsen.
June 11, 817 A.S.
Who knew, when I set out for Omega 15, that I'd be stuck here for 3 years? I have tried, time and again, to find a way into Omega 41, but I seem to encounter trouble every step of the way. I've been on this station for so long that everyone knows me. They've even given me a new name. "Munin". Memory, after Odin's raven, because I often sit and look out at the system, and think of my brother. He has become more than just my brother. As I am Munin, he is "Hugin". He is what my thoughts dwell on, and what has kept me sane, and driven me insane. I miss him less now, and that scares me. I miss him more sometimes, and that depresses me. There is no right or wrong answer, no answer at all even. But as I wait and think of him, and try to find out anything I can about that one wayward Valkyrie from 4 years ago, I have learned the one skill I will need to find him. Be it stalking my game, or closing in for the kill, laying traps, or avoiding the traps of my prey, I have learned how to do it all. I have learned how to hunt.

Current last known entry under Ander Hartvigsen.