23-07-818A.S. - Log of Harold Fawker III Esquire - Captain of the Shackler of Dreams
This is the log of Harold Fawker III Esquire. Captain Harold Fawker III Esquire now. First time I've used that title and I feel giddy already. I just procured a vessel for my needs from a Junker in Liberty. It's been outfitted with as many cells as can be fitted into the cargo hold, and enough armour to hold back the plasma of any would-be aggressor until help can arrive.
I doubt my family would be proud of where I am now, as the captain of what they would refer to as an "insult to humanity", a slaver ship. But this is a choice I've made and I'm seeing it through. I'm starting this log to track my progress into the world of thieves and criminals so I am better able to understand them and see the true, ugly face of humanity.
23-07-818A.S. - Log of Harold Fawker III Esquire - Captain of the Shackler of Dreams
The Junker whom I bought the ship from was distrustful of me first, but eventually I was able to convince him to sell me the contracts of his crew members. They're all battle-hardened veterans, experienced in this line of work. They know how to treat the ship right, and for now I have no reason to distrust them. But I need not forgot that these men have been on the unlawful side of society probably for their entire lives and it would be in my best interests to keep one eye open at night.
The title of my ship does not only apply to its unfortunate passengers. I fear my sleep will be plagued by the pain of those who dwell within the cells between Niverton and Malta. I am not a man of easy conscience, but regardless of this I have made my decision to follow this life. This is my life now.
As we unmoor from Beaumont and proceed to fill the hold with its first group of passengers on Niverton I feel a strange sense of optimism about the future, as that of my passengers is drained away when they see the cells and shackles in the belly of my ship.
23-07-818A.S. - Log of Harold Fawker III Esquire - Captain of the Shackler of Dreams
Today's journey from Niverton from Malta went-by without incident. Despite the Rogue's mistrust they filled my ship with the cargo - I can't even bring myself to say what it is. Keeping well above the standard patrols of the Liberty Navy in Liberty and Colonials and IMG in the Taus seem to have been effective in preventing my ship's detection. I offloaded the cargo on Malta and saw the rest of their lives flash before my eyes, toiling away in the cardamine plantations for the benefit of a foreign nation.
I met a man in the bar - what a sight I must've been, wearing my air filtration unit. Seemed to me like a nice chap, Rheinland origins. He told me that over time the men and women working in the field would become addicted to cardamine and would forever be altered. Then they would be able to understand the Outcasts, and could earn their freedom as a member of their society. And then he mentioned that they were treated very well, almost like citizens. He was certainly a former slave.
It made me feel better about what I was doing. I was giving these people a new home, and a community who would understand exactly what they're going through. People who truly understand you are hard to come by these days - in a way, I envy them. Nobody can understand me.