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I remember my father always telling me, "Evan, you're destined for great things. You will be a great pilot some day." I became a great pilot just like he wanted, but not in the capacity that he hoped for.

I was born into a home where my mother was a nurse and my father a fighter jock in the Bretonian Navy. When the war broke out with Kusari, my father was the first shipped off to the front lines, along with my mother for triage when the men and women were injured in battles with the evil serpent to our "North". Things heated up and before I knew it, my father was coming home. He was injured in battle defending one of the battleships my mother was on. The battleship was captured by Kusari military and my father'€™s ship was almost completely destroyed.

He limped back on hardly any oxygen in his ship or suit and with almost no engines to propel him. He was discovered just outside the Tau-31>Leeds gate on the other side. They told me that he would survive and that they would never give up searching for the bastards who took my mother...I was twelve years old. I remember everything clearly when my father woke up in a rage, throwing everything he could get his hands on. I was next to the bed when he reached for me to throw me. He stopped and sobbed, holding me close to his chest.

"I'll get those bastards, Evan. I'll get your mother back..." He escaped from the hospital days later, stole a fighter from the flight deck on Leeds and took off. No one ever heard from him again the day after he took off. I presumed he died trying to find my mother, died trying to save her from whatever those bastards were doing to her. I couldn't fault him for leaving me behind...he wanted me to be safe. To take the risk himself...but now I was without a mother and father...something he thought through? Probably not...he was mad with grief.

The Bretonian government did nothing to search for him. They claimed him a mad man and a heretic...they even went as far as placing a bounty on his head for stealing from the government. They were mad, raving mad. He defended his country with his life, and when the enemy took what meant most to him...he sought them out. Punished for that? Insane.

I won't bore you any further with the triviality of my past. All I will say is I am now twenty years old...running from the law for smuggling and crimes against the crown. Do I care? Not really. They all pale in comparison to the skill set my father once had behind the controls...with the skills I possess also. Guess it's bred into us Williams fighters, huh?

* * *

I drank from my canteen on the small station of Mactan as my ship was being loaded with cardamine to be delivered to my customers on New Berlin. It wasn't that high of a profit, true, but it screwed up the local populace and government that I despised so much. The monitor in the bar was displaying the current bounties and market prices for contraband.

"In other news, the bounty on Evan Williams has increased from a mere ten-million credits, up twenty times that amount to Two-Hundred-Million, backed by the Britonian government wishing for his capture. Evan Williams is a noted smuggler that frequents Magellan, Leeds, and New London. Anyone wishing to claim this bounty only needs to use their gun-cam footage as evidence. Now it's time for our market rate segment of our show..."

I stopped listening to the broadcast and stood up placing the empty canteen down on the bar.

"Thanks Hal." I said and turned to leave.

This whole redundant nature was starting to get the best of me. With all the Bounty Hunters that side of Sirius looking for me, I decided it was time I altered course and flew into Liberty for some investments. I'd make even less than I would in Bretonia, but better save my skin the trouble of dodging hunters. Besides, it'd been a while since I was in Liberty...almost three years in fact, time to see what has changed.

I checked inventory, signed the checklist and handed it over to the staff on the deck. They nodded and walked away as the door sealed behind me. I checked the restraints on my fighter at the back of the transport, ensuring it wouldn't be damaged in the event that I had to make hasty maneuvers and returned to the cockpit to take off from Mactan. I sighed and activated the thrusters to lift off.

"Liberty, here I come." I said as the airlock doors opened.
I made it to Buffalo without any incident. I never thought leaving through the Texas jumphole would be an issue so my guard was down as I approached the hole. Two fighters appeared and scanned my ship from nowhere. They acted unusual, acting like they weren't supposed to be in the Badlands to begin with. Their Kusarian accents were obvious.

"What is your name, pilot?" said the one in the light fighter. His tone was harsh and accusing. That got me heated from the get go. I couldn't resist the irony in this entire situation from several different angles.

"You know gaijin, because that's what YOU are here, you affront anyone who comes into your home from another place as a criminal. Maybe I should do the same to you here?"

"You forget, Bretonian, that you too, are a foreigner here." said the second ship, a very heavy fighter. His tone was much more gentle, less accusing. "Now, tell us your name and you can be on your way."

"A little far from home aren't you, Kusarian?" I said. I could feel the tension mounting slowly. The Kusarians were powering their weapons. "Lets face it boys, you already know who I am...and for some reason now you're harassing me. Wasn't your loss in Leeds last week bad enough against my fighter?"

"You cheated!" said the light fighter. "You broke the rules in a fair engagement! Now it's our turn to be unfair, Evan Williams!"

Both fighters began beating the hell out of my shields. The aft shields broke and hit the engines, disabling them. Cursing I set the ship to auto thrust and rigged the repair systems to auto repair for as long as I had the nanobots and shield batteries. I unhooked from the chair and ran to the back as the ship shook. I collected my small duffel bag that I kept in the compartment next to the cockpit in case of emergencies and threw it into the open canopy of my fighter. I flicked out my knife and cut all the straps holding the ship to the floor and climbed in.

"Bastard Kusarians...killed my father, probably my mother...now they're going to take my lively hood too? Oh no sir...I'm going to pop both those bastards." I said to no one in particular. "They're going to die" I said again and slid the canopy shut just as the freighter ripped in two and exploded.

I punched the accelerator just as the two idiots were cheering their hollow victory. As I launched out of the debris, I opened up my Roc with two bursts from weapons and one SNAC right to the face of the VHF, within seconds the ship was floating wreckage. The light fighter pilot turned and tried to run, but the explosion from his buddies ship had weakened his aft shields near his engine port. I fired one SNAC into his a** and watched as his ship imploded, his screams only echoing briefly across comms.

After his ship was ripped into pieces, I realized that I was breathing hard and gripping the controls in a frenzied state. I slowly let go and laid back in the ship's seat.

"Who am I kidding?" I said again. "I'm a fighter...not a damn smuggler..." I looked back to the wreckage of my transport. "Ah well, was a waste of credits anyway. Maybe I should check the boards and see what idiots I can go out and kill."

If I'd only realized the two men I killed weren't just Kusarians...but diplomats from Kusari sent here to find me...maybe I could have avoided the entire fall out that was about to occur...but hey, hindsight is 20/20...right?