"I'm a man of straight words, and I won't be babbling about this forever.
Oh, man... "Nothin' better than a good war", they said... Well tough job... Never knew we would have that... I mean, of course we'd have won. Can't doubt that. Can't doubt my officers. Or my ships, or my men... I would have given mercy on the souls of the poor fellows who were about to face this wrath of heaven horror. No stroll. They unleashed a hell painted so bright in the skies my younger eyes weren't ready for that. Teaches you well, y' know. Teaches you that Hell fires BACK.
Of course we pulled this off... As hard as those poor guys used to. We won. Given them no choice. Even if it means half of the fleet gets back, and not in one piece. Claiming victory ? Yeah gurgle this one in my throat 'till it bleed TWICE when returning from Omicron Nightmare Foxtrot you find Mother Leeds in flames. Ah ah, yeah... Count your clear naps after that, buddy, you do that.
Stop a sec'... Ain't no complex feeling. My young boy just couldn' take it. "Where were I and my big victorious armada face when the shuttle transporting my family was shot down by a Gallia cruiser ?" You've guessed it, son... It burned, and grew, enough to take a part of my mind down. Can't take a look at a Liber' Battleship well-organised deck anymore. Can't look at those clean uniforms, can't look at well-presenting privates popped fresh from Training Ground.
So I quit. No more Gunsboating with the Navy, done. First class Star officer, an entire fleet lead to victory in a cataclysmic battle, one of the most gifted pilot of my academy class and now Basky-bol Prodigy is done for the street. Ah ! Oh yeah, baby... Hard you say ? Wait until some try to find me a desk job. No, sir, you DON'T want to see me there. You want to sleep at night too.
I would laught if I haven't nothing to do at the time... Well retiring is a big joke when you're a thirty years old, even past Navy. Yeah, no grumphs, no deeds, that's reality. Yet days of dream aren't gone. So picking up the first civilian ship I hopped from planet to planet. Time to get some time and make a plan. Ideas can feed you, sometimes. What I did ? yeah, nothing much for starter. What any man-at-arm can do.
Then I discovered ain't no darn to do the job for the police too. Relationships with them 's still nice, and dellivers a good side-business if you want to be on your own. I have no fiendish with criminals, they are as much as downed as I was for sure, those crazy bastard, but they're here. And me too.
So there you go Cat and Mouse games anywhere, lasers-tag battles and missiles fumes, good grave billy odds in the end for employers, nice catch of cred for me - bread and butter, everyone's happy. I've been dancing, baby. Dancing aaaaall night. Anywho, anywhere. Just to find myself in the end of the day the luckiest guy in the bar: more money, more Women, and, god, with more wisky tab than a man shoud have.
Apparently, ' still have some pilot skills and keen senses.
"Going contracts all libertonian, round and round, while I keep thinking about the next stage. Cute, yeah do think that.
Being private agent is no drama and habits, so no bores any. Filatures in Manhattan streets up to spaceports drug dealers spying, I barely have the time to breath. Target elimination has gone for exceptions, Which is more of my liking. Intelligence use and gathering is more fuel-consumming, more challenging. Crack ain't no smartties who can chop over you, see ? Down-side is, it's less profitable. "What ? No more gun-blazing ? This is an outrage !" Y'say, hu ? Well piracy hunting isn't a hobby, num-twuk. And it's not my duty to take care of Colorado. So to have my due I need to go where you're sure to find your meat: deep space. Over the Border, far into the night, gale of dawn. Outcasts flow of broken T-29 is a dream come true, a bad dream, when you find your smart-face outgunned ten to one. Can't deny how much you've got to be there in order to pay for your ship expenses.
That's just one big craft. From Omicron Alpha. And it's god-damn TALKING to you. I'm no joker here. Talk to all of us. Three thousand years of questions and finaly we know it: intelligent and sentient lifeforms exist elsewhere near us. In the form of blue translucide cruiser-class crap that talks. Even if it's non-sensical. IMGs and Outcasts were speechless too. And don't get me started on the AI drone (and AI cruiser which came later). yeah, we were pathetically hepless... What do you expect from poor hot-blooded humans facing a third type encounter in the middle of a common conflict zone ?
Quite fast, the mind babbling and total mess was too much for us, and that didn't well when (out of boredome too I guess) IT rained death on us. Brave resistance, futile stand, the AI fell first, no one was able to down their kinetic shield. I got caught in the fire, got ejected in time. Good-bye money love. The operating crew of Java Station get comms fast and retrieved my pod with similar velocity, fortunately. My thanks to you, people. I own them my life. Don't even dare say these people are lazy again.
As I fled from the Taus and the madness that was raging there, I talked about this to several friends in the Liber Navy as soon as possible. They know I can't make that up. Sane for sure. But they can't do anything about it. But who's job or responsability is this ? There's no much world-savior around ! I guess I'll have to get contact with the Zoners. They know more than us guys from the big cities what's the deal back over here. I don't really know them well, but moonlighting a little with them can't be a bad thing...
I've heard rumors from mercenaries at Barrier Gate, of a far system where you can find a human space station inbound with alien stuff. Start of a lead ? Not much. Who knows...
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