10-23-2010, 09:41 PM
Personal journal entry. Dated 10 June 798.
Personal journal entry. Dated 3 Dec 817.
Personal journal entry. Dated 1 Feb 818.
Personal journal entry. Dated 25 Jun 818.
Personal journal entry. Dated 23 Oct 818.
A couple weeks ago, we took up this contract for a private investor... someone who had bought up tons of shares in cobalt mining on Gaia. The target was a civilian Clydescale freighter callsigned "Victory Van." We were told pirates had stolen the van and were intercepting traffic to Luxury Liner Shetland. When we arrived on the scene, we found a Clydescale with the designated callsign. But something wasn't right. The vessel was unarmed, and had been thoroughly painted with flowery designs. The ship hailed us and spewed forth not cruise disruptors or photons, but peaceful Gaian propoganda. Furthermore, the voices we heard were not of adults, but young teenagers.
I urged the company to abort the mission, but the commanding officer elected to keep to mission parameters - destroy the freighter callsigned Victory Van. I watched in horror as the Victory Van took heavy fire from the company. The vessel broadcast desperate and panicked cries for mercy. As the hull buckled, the screams were suddenly silenced.
In that moment I realized how many lives I've put to an end. I am nothing more than a killing machine, working for the highest bidder. Well that ends now. I'm done. I'm out. I'll find somewhere to lay low in the edge worlds, where the company can't find me.
I urged the company to abort the mission, but the commanding officer elected to keep to mission parameters - destroy the freighter callsigned Victory Van. I watched in horror as the Victory Van took heavy fire from the company. The vessel broadcast desperate and panicked cries for mercy. As the hull buckled, the screams were suddenly silenced.
In that moment I realized how many lives I've put to an end. I am nothing more than a killing machine, working for the highest bidder. Well that ends now. I'm done. I'm out. I'll find somewhere to lay low in the edge worlds, where the company can't find me.
Personal journal entry. Dated 3 Dec 817.
My younger sister Jan's husband was killed in the Leeds system last month. She and her two children (my nephews) have taken refuge from the war in my lake house on Planet Gran Canaria. The eldest, Jacob, will take over my bait and tackle business while I search for a more lucrative job.
Personal journal entry. Dated 1 Feb 818.
I've reluctantly signed up for the Zoner Defense Forces' 51st Rangers. It seems piloting is all I'm useful for these days. Hopefully with this new job will be able to support my sister and her children.
Personal journal entry. Dated 25 Jun 818.
My sister has been diagnosed with a rare degenerative heart condition. I am going to resign from the Zoner Defense Forces to spend time with her and to search for a possible cure.
Personal journal entry. Dated 12 Aug 818.Jan is on a new medication that will treat the symptoms of her condition. In order to permanently cure the condition, a transplant is required. It's likely I will have to get in the cockpit once again in order to pay for the procedure.
Personal journal entry. Dated 23 Oct 818.
I've just finished my paperwork to apply for the Omicroners, where maybe I can do some escorting. I can't help but wonder if I'm doing the right thing. I know if I returned to my old line of work, I could easily pay for my sister's treatments. But what of repentance? I told myself I would never go back, not after what happened.