05-18-2013, 01:02 PM
![[Image: no_return.png]](http://i1082.photobucket.com/albums/j362/Narcotic235/Freelancer%20Discovery/Artworks/no_return.png)
Neural Net Log - Aaron Lemuria
Personal Entry:
Saturday, the 18. May 820
Fourteen minutes and four seconds remaining before the escape capsule's emergency reserves will run out of oxygen. Who could have imagined that it'd be a mission without return? Of course, it's a risk one is confronted with everytime he boards his spacecraft. However, why this time? Is there a deeper meaning behind it? It wasn't even a spectacular task but a simple recon mission in Omicron Zeta. At first, during the mission briefing I was convinced that this mission was some sort of punishment, since there's nothing more tedious than a patrol in secured space. That's what I thought.
So the Order Overwatch assigned me to take those two greenhorns with me. It was their very first mission outside of Omicron Mu. And probably their last. I can't say it. Actually I don't even care much, because I don't see much hope for me neither. The time is running. I wasn't prepared for this. What am I, as a twenty-four year old Agent, supposed to say in my last twenty minutes to live? This is insane. Is this the end? It can't be.
For the two recruits, whose ships’ destruction I've witnessed right after I ejected myself into the cold claws of open space, I am sure that they either died right on the spot by being freezed instantly, or are suffering the same fate as myself. Whatever, they don't respond to my radio signals. Hm, maybe they're unconsciously floating in space right now, without having to deal with the trauma and fear. I honestly wish that for them. I imagine it’s much more comfortable to die like that. Regarding death in open space, I'd prefer it to be fast and painless. And as harsh as it might sound, I'm “lucky” that my suit didn't suffer a leak during the undesired ejection - now that I can't really rely on a rescue anymore. The Taskforce would expect us to be back in half an hour - wishing for rescue is pointless. Only God may help me now.
Nevertheless, it might be of use if I describe the situation in short - even though there's not much to say, since it came as a suprise. Our squad of three Onuris' was just about to check the borders of the Pohnpei Asteroid Field, which I was forbidden to enter at any costs - for obvious reasons - whereupon Ronald, the younger of the two recruits, suddenly left the formation and disappeared into the Edge Nebula. From this moment on I knew that something utterly devastating would happen. Call it intuition. However, I had my orders and moved along, trying to contact the lost pilot. Meanwhile James, an ex-mechanic who was still a rather unexperienced pilot, panicked and began shouting at me - we should follow Ronald's Onuris at once, we should rescue him. Maybe that's what they wanted us to do... and I knew it.
Out of a sudden some unknown projectile hit my Onuris' side. Direct hit. In less than the blink of an eye I was ejected out of my exploding vessel into the cold arms of dark space. "Shoot!" The thought ran through my head in milliseconds as my synapses refused to transmit any signals. I was totally paralyzed by shock.
While I was spinning in space, incapable to tell up from down, I witnessed how fatal a collision of two light fighters at 720 kmph can be. I screamed unconsciously as I saw two objects being catapulted out of a large blue fireball. Bodies or escape pods? The explosion spun my pod like a top, leaving me to ponder that exact question. Bodies or escape pods? For their sake, I hope the former...
*he pauses for a minute and only his heavy breathing disturbed by sporadic gasps, can be heard*
So that's it now? No miracle? No hope? Maybe there’s a life after death. One might be reincarnated as human, animal - or Nomad even? Is that what our dead souls become? Would war end if the dead could return? All these questions unanswered. Maybe I’ll find out the answers soon. Maybe.
So the Order Overwatch assigned me to take those two greenhorns with me. It was their very first mission outside of Omicron Mu. And probably their last. I can't say it. Actually I don't even care much, because I don't see much hope for me neither. The time is running. I wasn't prepared for this. What am I, as a twenty-four year old Agent, supposed to say in my last twenty minutes to live? This is insane. Is this the end? It can't be.
For the two recruits, whose ships’ destruction I've witnessed right after I ejected myself into the cold claws of open space, I am sure that they either died right on the spot by being freezed instantly, or are suffering the same fate as myself. Whatever, they don't respond to my radio signals. Hm, maybe they're unconsciously floating in space right now, without having to deal with the trauma and fear. I honestly wish that for them. I imagine it’s much more comfortable to die like that. Regarding death in open space, I'd prefer it to be fast and painless. And as harsh as it might sound, I'm “lucky” that my suit didn't suffer a leak during the undesired ejection - now that I can't really rely on a rescue anymore. The Taskforce would expect us to be back in half an hour - wishing for rescue is pointless. Only God may help me now.
Nevertheless, it might be of use if I describe the situation in short - even though there's not much to say, since it came as a suprise. Our squad of three Onuris' was just about to check the borders of the Pohnpei Asteroid Field, which I was forbidden to enter at any costs - for obvious reasons - whereupon Ronald, the younger of the two recruits, suddenly left the formation and disappeared into the Edge Nebula. From this moment on I knew that something utterly devastating would happen. Call it intuition. However, I had my orders and moved along, trying to contact the lost pilot. Meanwhile James, an ex-mechanic who was still a rather unexperienced pilot, panicked and began shouting at me - we should follow Ronald's Onuris at once, we should rescue him. Maybe that's what they wanted us to do... and I knew it.
Out of a sudden some unknown projectile hit my Onuris' side. Direct hit. In less than the blink of an eye I was ejected out of my exploding vessel into the cold arms of dark space. "Shoot!" The thought ran through my head in milliseconds as my synapses refused to transmit any signals. I was totally paralyzed by shock.
While I was spinning in space, incapable to tell up from down, I witnessed how fatal a collision of two light fighters at 720 kmph can be. I screamed unconsciously as I saw two objects being catapulted out of a large blue fireball. Bodies or escape pods? The explosion spun my pod like a top, leaving me to ponder that exact question. Bodies or escape pods? For their sake, I hope the former...
*he pauses for a minute and only his heavy breathing disturbed by sporadic gasps, can be heard*
So that's it now? No miracle? No hope? Maybe there’s a life after death. One might be reincarnated as human, animal - or Nomad even? Is that what our dead souls become? Would war end if the dead could return? All these questions unanswered. Maybe I’ll find out the answers soon. Maybe.