Forever marked by my own recent impulses, I write this today to let it be remembered as a new beginning, and possibly, the foreshadowing of my end. My own greed, my wish to ever-increase my wealth and fame, has ripped my own heart off, but seeing this coming I would have fired my own heart upon myself. Three weeks ago, my biggest treasure was taken away from me as the emergency alarm rang through Toledo. My beloved Azumi was amongst the victims to the alien retaliation. They took their revenge against the weapons that had claimed dozens of their kind, weapons I had a hand in designing; ironies of mere existence in this death-ridden space.
My futile attempt to steal a ship with the emotional, traditional human thirst for vendetta has also robbed my name of credit, as it took half my colleagues to forfeit the prison time I was due to my crime, the other half either denying me or being too ashamed as to have any means of helping me. At this dark, cold room labeled as my laboratory, I now begin a journey that may help us better understand these creatures, with the hope of either ever-present peace between our races, or ever-lasting existence assured to us humans, provided this research helps keep us safe from their wrath.
Curiously, it is thinking about that wrath that fuels my wonder and desire to learn more, and hope to understand, as we yet lack the means or simply the knowledge we need to be able to state with confidence that the Nomads can indeed feel, or can process that wrath of theirs that we refer to. Knowing it will take years of research, learning what has already been discovered, discovering new forms of study, and studying what may solve our reputations with the aliens as a whole, today I let it be known that I do not lack the will to begin this grand expedition.
"It is a cold universe until you know God as your Father, and then it becomes a home. Even the next life simply becomes the Father's house, home."
—David Pawson
I am carefully studying data the drone sent me. After days of planning, discovering new ways, collecting, analyzing and interpreting the data with my instruments here at the lab, it is on my monitor - entire columns of elements, which explain most of the creatures behavior an incredible insight into the children of the ancient rulers.
Breathing deeply and a few hours to relax and wonder before I continue examining every bit of it, I can only hope that what I see, note and feel can be our tools to either peace or assured survival. A lot of information is stored in this disk. I must be careful not to let anyone else know of its existence yet. It would be most unwise to accelerate things as they are, or to misplace a milestone in our existence, as it might lead to extinction.
I am, however, sorting the information cautiously, reading row after row of what I have gathered so far. The first thought that drives through my cerebrum is that the Nomads are changing! True, it may still be too soon to tell, but they are adapting, they are doing the math; they are moving forward in advance, and they want to restore their dominion of what was once their role in life, or still is: to defend Daam K'Vosh space and cleanse the sector of unwanted visitors. That was my first conclusion - without any considerable information at the time!
"It is a cold universe until you know God as your Father, and then it becomes a home. Even the next life simply becomes the Father's house, home."
—David Pawson
It seems the rumors between some of my friends at Samura Industries were true. After weeks of investigation, Zoner recon vessels were unable to find anything useful that might have explained the disaster at Freeport 7. Clear it is, however, that the Nomads probably had influence in the event but even in that case, how could we know for sure? The deep scans of the cloud formed by the once majestic station seem to point at the possibility that its empty, but could that really be the case? That is what everyone knows, except a few of my men and me, since yesterday.
Scout Unit SI-12 found something of interest while space walking through the debris. Curiously enough, one of the cooling tubes was found with traces of a very strange particle contamination. Unfortunately, Bounty Hunter vessels in the area prevented the collection of any samples that might give us truthful evidence of what really occurred, and if my suspicions about the Nomads being behind everything are true, then maybe something that could give us a lead on their technology, perhaps the littlest element might help me uncover mysteries for long unknown to humanity.
Maintaining secrecy is of prime importance in this research journey, thus I have scheduled a flight to Planet Kurile for alleged negotiations regarding regular shipments of Alien Organisms for study here at Freeport 11. This is, of course, an excuse to have an explanation in case my teams presence in the system raises unwanted suspicion between any intruding forces that might wish to interfere.
"It is a cold universe until you know God as your Father, and then it becomes a home. Even the next life simply becomes the Father's house, home."
—David Pawson