The transmission begins; the face of a Rheinland man appears on screen. He looks to be in his forties, though there is a strange look about him. He speaks carefully, with a very solemn look on his face.

Greetings, Doctor Holliday. I believe we've spoken before, though certainly on considerably different circumstances...

The man pauses, and closes his eyes. A soft whispering sound becomes noticeable, and when he opens his eyes again they are ablaze with bluish-purple energy. After several seconds of this, the energy fades and he appears calm once more.

My name is Hektor Schneider. I once served the Rheinland Military, though those days are long done. I am not a part of something greater, acting through the vessel you know as "Das Wilde". For my part, I have seen and done many horrible things. I seek no forgiveness for my actions, regrettable as they are. Amongst my crimes are the murder of many Zoners, directly or by proxy, something you are certainly quite aware of. However, please believe me when I say that I have no hatred for you or your companions.

I speak to you now because of one thing you said... that you are willing to sacrifice yourself for the betterment of others. This is something we share; though I sacrifice not my life but my piety. I have no doubts that when judgment comes, I will be damned as the monster I am. My only path from here is to make it all worth something, to give a better future to those who remain.

To this end, I have a request to make. For all I have done, for all I have done to those you hold dear, I have no right to ask anything of you, but this must be done if what horrors I have wrought are to accomplish more than just meaningless death. You speak of a threat to us all; you are more right than you know. Events are in motion that cannot possibly be averted. It is our duty as great men- and we are both great men, though you a better one than I- to ensure the survival of humanity as a whole. I do not expect you to believe me, given whom I work with and the course of my actions, and that is why I make this request.

I wish to talk to you; as one man concerned for the future to another. More than that...

Hektor pauses, and closes his eyes for a few seconds before continuing. The look on his face is uncharacteristically pleading.

I wish to ask for your help.

There is a short pause while Hektor composes himself once more, and resumes his normal, confident demeanor.

There is a man on Freeport 1 that stares toward the bar's view of the sun in the morning each day; the bartender should know to whom I refer. I am forwarding to you his private communicator information, though you may certainly talk to him in person or by proxy should you not trust long-range communication. One way or another, he will relay it to me.

Give me a place and a time and I shall be there, no questions asked. Tell me that you wish nothing to do with me, and we part ways, you to your fate and the world to its own; I will understand. But I will be here should you wish, you need merely ask.

Auf wiedersehen.

The transmission terminates. Within moments, your computer informs you that there were errors loading the transmission to the screen, leaving everything but the comm information packet corrupted.

I shall forgo the customary pleasantries, since this is not a pleasant occasion and I'm sure your inbox has been flooded with messages.

Our paths have seldom crossed in space, but I have heard much of you and Med Force One. This once, I ask that you hear me.

Frankly, Doc, I've looked toward your example for guidance to what the Zoner way of life should entail. I had hoped others would as well, but it seems we have forgotten the faces of our fathers.

I implore you to hold off in giving yourself to the Corsair Empire; the burden of the Zoners is not yours to bear, and you are not responsible. I doubt that your surrender would stop all war from happening, and without your service, many more will die unjust deaths. There is no blood on your hands in a figurative sense, but you certainly can keep others from seeing the same fate as those wounded and killed on Freeport 1. Sacrifice is not the answer to this one, of that I am sure.

Instead, continue to set an example of what the life of a Zoner should be - you are not alone in this, for I too have begun to disagree with how things are. There was once a time when the Zoners were the last true explorers of the Sirian frontier and when we supplied a service to all unquestioned. I very much desire to return to these roots.

I am but a mere transport pilot in the employ of Omicron Supply Industries and I feel it my duty to help to continue to supply the Freeports so that the service we provide may continue to exist. We generally don't partake in Zoner politics and territorial disputes, and I think that is what makes us successful. The minute that the Zoners turned to look back to the Core was the moment that we became selfish. Help to guide us, instead, to turn around once again and look outside of ourselves and to the future.

It does not take a government to bring prosperity, but it does take one to make enemies. When we let go of what we claim to be ours, we can finally return to the true Zoner way. Our goal should not be the acquisition of territory and the staking of claims, but the greater good. Our largest ships are now used to secure our claimed lands when they should be seeking new ones to colonize and share.

My point, Doc, however meandering I have been, is that you provide a figure for us to look to. You can stand and work for what is right and good, or you can turn yourself to the Corsairs and be snuffed out. You may save a few now, but you could save many more later.

I understand that you wish to take the righteous path. Let those who wish to squabble for territory do so. Help take the rest of us to where we should be.

I appreciate your time, Doctor. The decision is yours, and I know you'll make the one you feel to be the best.

Yours,
Gheis Mace
Zoner Transport Captain