Applicant Biography: Elizabeth turns on data recorder.
I don't know if anyone will be interested in the yammerings of an exiled women. But you may read this and believe that my life teaches some lessons. Helps you in your daily life. Or it may not, and you may have just wasted some of your "precious" time.
Before I begin the recap of my life, I'd like to point out some things that helped me get through it all. If you don't have time to read my entire log, then I ask that you at least read these points:
1. Always trust your wingmen.
Back in the day I was in a Sea Serpent squadron, it was not the power of my shield that got me through the hard situations. With Corsairs on one side, and Outcasts on the other, what got me through it was the strength of my trust in my team. If you ever doubt the ability of your wingmen, you're dead. If you ever think there is a task that your team can not take on, you're dead. Because you must keep one thought going through your head: They are your limbs.
Most, well at least I hope that most people know their team on a personal level. You've been through hell together, and that creates a bond that no Tizona or Kraken can break. And you need them to survive. They are your limbs, because without your limbs you are helpless.
2. Only fly a ship that you've checked.
There are so many times I've gone into a fight without the right equipment I can't even count them. Hell, I even went into an engagement with Corsairs with Krakens equiped to my Serpent. And when I got back, I got the damn tech who told me to fly it fired for his stupidity.
When I say only fly a ship that you've checked, I mean you or your team. Because, as stated in the previous point, your team are your limbs. They are your arms. Your legs. Your balls. And without the aid of your team when you need it, you are completely ****ed. What, I can't say that? Fine, you are completely screwed.
3. Never give up hope.
Hope is the engine that drives you. It is hope that gets you through life. Never give it up. Because if you give up hope in a combat situation, you are a dead man. Or woman, I don't want to be sued for bloody sexism...
All humans live off of hope that their lives will stay as they are, or get better. Some live to protect other people's hope. They are the un-corrupt lawfuls of the Houses. Some live to destroy it. Those are the pirates. Because when you have no hope, people can bend you to the shape they want you as.
4. Sometimes the old is better than the new.
Yeah, that's right. It's better to stick with what you know then to completely change because there is new technology out. One of my wingmen, Dug, tried out some new weapons in a live combat situation with some Red Hessians. They were powerful, but completely different to his old weapons. They had a different projectile speed, a different refire rate. And because of that, he is now resting in his grave.
Sometimes, the new isn't always the best. I would rather have an old .44 Magnum than the latest in laser technology. Because I know that the Magnum has been put through trial and error for hundreds of years. I know it will work, and therefore I do not lose hope.
And finally, number five.
5. Stand for what you believe in.
If you stand with your team for what you believe in, no armada can push you down. Because a man - or woman, I don't want to be sued.... - who is determined can not be stopped. He - or she - is like a caged animal running for freedom. It will not be stopped. Will not be reasoned with. Will not surrender.
If you do not stand for what you have believed for your entire life, then your life has been meaningless. It has been a waste of time. Because you learn about the world, and you create your own opinion on issues. If you do not defend those opinions, then you can not say you deserve your life. It is awful when an ambitious person deems that his ambition gives him the right to think he is better than others and along the way he forgets who helped him to reach the goal. In the culmination moment that person says: I am superior and have that in mind you idiots! With such a person it is necessary to make a very banal move, since we are talking about extremely banal personality, but also the person that tries hard to hide his banal nature so than no one can detect it. So it would not be a bad thing after all to just kick that person in the ass, since ass is sometimes wiser and it automatically sends the signal to the head that it should just calm down. The mechanism that devalues everything one can't have. The envy packed in ignoring and dismissing. The more the grape is sour, the sweeter is the lemon. The illusion of personal happiness by slurring happiness of others.
I understand this all can help "you" in survival for a short period of time, but it's not healthy in the long run. If by any chance "you" would develop imagination with the same enthusiasm, maybe some of your wishes would come true and you would not be that bitter and sly.
And what about my life? :
I never make plans. I only live this life. Sometimes I live it the way I want to, sometimes the way I have to. Small things colour my life. Small things are happiness. That's why I love small things. And big suitcases. I carry them everywhere with me, because to myself I owe one more walk between the expected and the unplanned.
I was born on Planet Cambridge in 801 A.S., in a small community on the coast of the capital continent, also named Cambridge. It was a quiet a simple life. We were as technologically advanced as the capital, but we still kept our small town simplicities. We had a beautiful beach, stretching for miles in either direction. And the cold salt water felt fresh on our feet as we walked into the ocean without hesitation. Like a break from the day, just floating there.
There were little local shops, the likes of which rarely seen nowadays. They sold homemade fudge and whisky and all of the little treats that life had to offer, without the unloving mass production of the intercontinental corporations. We had no advertisements constantly being forced down our throats as we walked the streets. No men in fancy suits bothering us with their fantastic deals that could save us a fortune in food purchases or mortgage payments. Our buildings looked like old-fashioned brick houses, but when you entered one you immediately smelt a familiar smell. The smell of the future.
We had no traffic. No blaring of horns, no skidding of cars, no angry voices yelling "**** you!" What, I can't say that? I thought I was granted that freedom when telling my life story? No? Fine. But anyway, it was just a simple paradise for us. The girls were hot, the food was delicious, and we all lived in perfect harmony. I was going to work with my dad. I was going to run the little shop when he died. And when mum died. And gran, and gramps, and et cetera.... But you get the point. I was going to run a shop.
But then, just as I was fifteen, disaster struck. I can safely say that it shaped my life. But, the thing is, it didn't really affect me. It didn't affect my family. It didn't even affect my town. It affected the next town over.
It was slightly larger than ours, but they still held onto the small town charm. They had some of the best chocolatiers in the land, and I would occassionally walk along the mountain path to the town just to buy some with my pocket money. But when I took the walk there on that day, I discovered a disaster. The town, which was known as Tria, was in flames. I could see the thick, black smoke rising into the sky from miles away, and by the time I had arrived my heart was racing. Not from the run, but from the fear. The first building I saw, when my head popped over the mountain ridge, was the City Hall. It's concave roof had collapsed after several holes had been blasted through. I could see the flames licking the stone sides of the building from the inside, desperately trying to escape the confines of the hall so it could find more fuel to continue its destructive path.
But it wasn't the only one. Thirty-nine of the buildings in the town were either burning, or had already burned. The roofs had collapsed into each, crushing the contents of each house or store like a flytrap swishing a fly on the wall. No hope for survival, unless the occupants had managed to escape. But as I entered the town square, I knew that there were no survivors.
I found shell cases on the ground, scattered everywhere. Our towns didn't own any lazers because we couldn't afford them, so if the occupants wanted a weapon they had to use balistic. And now those weapons had survived their purpose: Defending the owners. But the owners were no marksmen, only store-owners or family-men. Or women and children.
I found the bodies of those who had owned the weapons a few feet away from the shells. They had tried to retreat, most likely when they had run out of ammunition. I doubted they would have needed to buy much, considering the fact they didn't expect an attack. The corpses were charred, and the smell of burnt flesh filled my nostrils. I knew then that it was no ordinary attack, because few in the area could even afford lazer technology. So it was a planned strike against a peacefull village, just on the coast of Cambridge, the capital continent of Planet Cambridge.
I lifted my head and kept rotating as I scanned the area, making sure not to look down at the bodies of my friends. I immediately spotted a peculiar sight: A fully intact building, near the centre of the village. With some sort of graffiti painted on the side. I ran over as fast as my legs would carry me and examined the spray-painted artwork.
What the hell is this? That was the question that immediately crossed my mind. And that was the question that never left.
Reasons for applying: There are three great passions: alcohol, gambling and power. People can find the cure for the first two. But for the last one - never. Power is the greatest vice. Because of this passion people die, because of it people lose their human faces. It is the ghost from Aladdin's lamp which serves to every fool that holds it in his hands. Separated they are nothing, together they are the evil fate of this world. There is no fair and wise power, because hunger for power is limitless. A man in position of power is supported by a coward, praised by a flatterer and held by a villain. His view on himself is always nicer than the truth.
It is easier to persuade people to hate and do evil than to love and do good. Evil is attractive and closer to human nature. For love and good one needs to grow up and feel some pain. Humanity needs a change. The Commune offers them salvation! The people need to overcome their natural instincts and stop fighting about our peddy differences anymore - we need to unite in our common interest. To uplift the humanity on higher level of existence, only together we shall reach our common goal - the perfection - the pureness. The Commune seeks for that. I seek for that.
Notable skills: The drive to passionly follow the Commune's goals and, unfortunately... An expert assasin.