Click - clack - click - clack. The sound of the young women's high heels are echoing loudly with every step she does. Almost annoyingly, as if she's rudely pronouncing her every step to the whole universe to hear. Her provocating appearance - the tight-fitting short dress, underlining her perfect body shape, her long black falling hair swings back and forth as she gyrates her hips to the rythm of her top boot's clickclack - attracts all the attention on herself. She flows through the corridors like an angel - a being, not from this world. Seeking. Unresting. Stranded. Time is running. Tick - tack - tick - tack.
"Hope,... which whispered from Pandora's box after all the other plagues and sorrows had escaped, is the best and last of all things. Without it, there is only time. And time pushes at our backs like a centrifuge, forcing outward and away, until it nudges us into oblivion... It's a law of motion, a fact of physics..., no different from the stages of white dwarves and red giants. Like all things in the universe, we are destined from birth to diverge. Time is simply the yardstick of our separation. If we are particles in a sea of distance, exploded from an original whole, then there is a science to our solitude. We are lonely in proportion to our years.”
We came to a decision. The unscheduled infiltration on the Pandora turned out to be a lucky strike. The pleasant environment allowed me and my debilitated incubus to recover entirely. I owe them a favour, whether they like it or not. The Captain, Edward Hope shall be touched by the eternal light. Soon, the Pandora will be ours. Unknowingly. Though, because the mindshare wasn't reestablished yet, and I urgently needed help - I contacted Evan. Now that I've earned the captain's and his crew's trust, I'll have to wait for a suitable time, to begin mission "Pandora's Box".
"An idea that is not dangerous is unworthy of being called an idea at all." The hardest part of our plan is successfully done. I've had slept with him. The symbiont is planted. Now it's just a matter of time. Until then Ed will remain unknowingly, and the incubus will have enough time to gain control of his nervous systems. The Pandora is now on its way back to Bretonia, together with over two thousand libertonian passengers.
Once we'll be at Planet Leeds, the admiralty will sent us the two promised escort vessels. Their names are Evan Lewis and Rachel Furlough. Both with a very 'special' history at the Bretonia Armed Forces. They'll be a huge help for our future plan. With their military support, we'll be able to avoid a possible mutiny, in case the untouched people aboard the Pandora will find out about the fateful ongoings.
The box is opened. The angel spreads its wings, being more than comfortable with its deliverance. "Hope" it whispers. But that's all we've left them. And still it's all they'll ever need. Deep in the inside, all humans are pessimists: "One who, when he has the choice of two evils, chooses both."
As predicted - the Pandora got equipped with a new entertainment module, composed of cafés, bars, lounges and danceclubs. The so-called "Pandora's Box". Now that the liner stopped shipping refugees, it got completely converted into a luxury cruise liner. Perfect. Long-term cruises into remote systems, away from any civilisation, together with several hundreds of innocent tourists.
It couldn't have turned out any better! Now that the Captain has become my personal servant, I've decided to abuse the Pandora for our good. The community has been searching for a safe place, where they can 'invite' like-minded people, either voluntarily or unintentionally infected beings. And since the liner is still considered a human controlled vessel, it serves as ideal cover for our 'recruitment'. Here we can interview and observe eligible hosts without interruption. Meanwhile we can also plan and perform raids from this vessel. The community does approve. I can be proud of myself.
Moros. Lost. The place where it all began. Again and again, humanity tried to populated this holy place, where the ancients put one of their markers, to guide the path. But how can they know it? Why do they show interest in this remote system? There exists no logical reason to colonize it, unless they got to know the truth, what is simply impossible. Nobodoy else carries the knowledge about it... Treason might be the only guess - but having traitors within us is not possible either. The only other reasonable explanation would be, that it was pure coincidence, that they've started building this construction. Whatever it is, we can't let them gain more knowledge. Not after 'Valhalla One'.
It was luck, that I just happened to be at Altair to pick up the hybrid bomber, when I got informed about unusual high traffic within Zeta and Delta. Out of curiosity I proceed to Delta and witnessed how a several civilian transports vanished in the wormhole to Omicron Lost. Of course it has drawn my attention at once, and so I made my way there. Since I had no notion what would expect me on the other side, I engaged my cloak and jumped. A newly constructed outpost just a few hundred meters away from the wormhole, welcomed me - inhabited obviously, since there was no sight of the transports I've seen before. Immediately I proceed near planet Moros into the asteroid field to hide my vessel. I'm confused why the guards haven't noticed the human presence yet. I sense a rebellion. However, now it's time to observe them, and to think about an idea on how to find out their plans for that outpost.
The disturbance is removed. I've observed them for quite a while now. And when the right moment appeared, I used the situation and successfully incited the local human forces on each other. Which caused immense distrust between them. As predicted, the result was that they've started the siege on that annoying outpost. Hours later, and without major disruptions, and eventually the corporate construction was blown to dust. Their aim of colonizing Lost failed. And thus, the secrets of Moros will remain. Hopefully, this'll be the last try for the next time. Now that this matter is dealt with, I shall return to the Pandora at once. I'm afraid, that there's still much work to do.
As predicted, everything was going as planned aboard the Pandora. The liner was recently equipped with a brand-new cloaking device, constructed by Deep Space Engineering. This was pretty much the last step of modifying and renovating the vessel for it's future purpose. I note with satisfaction that the infestation progress of Edward has reached its final stage. That means that I won't have to keep an eye on the Pandora anymore. With Evan being responsible for ensuring the safety, I put much faith into the project being able to continue by itself. Soon the remaining crew members will be converted aswell - then I can call project "Pandora's Box" as being finished successfully. Wonderful. Hopefully this vessel with serve its purpose well. I'm convinced it'll do.
So I decided to return to Rockhome to continue my prior tasks; raids, ambushes and murderings. Fear is our most efficient weapon. Being in the horrific knowledge of potentiality getting shot on sight by a military pilot - can there be anything worse? The feeling of being unsafe at any place, to any time and not being able to trust anyone - it breaks their soul and spirit. In consequence of the continuous fear, people will develop distrust against everyone - especially the government. Then begins the 'domino effect', and they'll sooner or later destroy each other. Simple as.
When I've finally returned, I thought about gaining control of a new vessel, since more variety would allow me to maintain my cover much easier. I decided to give the Heisenberg Research Station in Köln a visit, because it's probably the most neutral base within Rheinland, and quite easy to reach for us. People also tend to not ask many questions, and I'll surely find some smuggler selling a stolen vessel there. So a Humpback dropped me in, and it didn't took me long to find an unlawful ship seller. He showed me his collection of various ships, including CTE, BWX and other ship classes. A lightly damaged Bayonet drew my attention. It had several ragged wounds across its shiphull, which made it appear like a mortally wounded and helpless target. Perfect! Just what I've been looking for. I approved of the illusoriness, and offered the salesman a sum he couldn't deny. Normally he'd have haggled now, but apparently he just made the deal of his live, and accepted. Time to go.
After checking the vital systems and damage level, I declared the ship to be in a good condition. Compared with its visual appearance, it was even well in shape. When I confidently petted my new 'baby', I accidentally cut my hand at one of the vessels sharp 'scars'. "Eine Wunde causing a wound." - how profoundly I though. I assure that in future, it'll cause even more wounds. Deep wounds - incurable wounds - deadly wounds. Being highly satisfied about the purchase, I left the 'Freeport' again.
Although most of the recent raids I've participated in were always successful, I felt the urgent desire to get my hands back on studying and research tasks. Of course Paperwork isn't as exciting as flying a spacecraft, but someone has to do it in the end. Planning, organizing and documenting - without it, we wouldn't survive for that long. The reason why we rarely suffer losses is no secret. It's the scrupulous work which assures our men to return safe. Our advantage over humanity is, that we work as one entity. We aren't driven by fear, mercy or other mental problems. And most notably - we don't kill each other.
Our inscrutable tactics are perfect. We always act with the most highest efficiency and patience. Better than machines. And naturally better than humanity. Our purpose is to be a thorn in their sides. A major headache which will never end. We are not many, but can bring down the houses to their knees.
The Fichtelgebirge Station, probably our most hidden outpost, guards our superior researchers and strategists. Even within the community, not everyone knows the station's exact location or purpose. And yet, nobody apart from us has ever seen it, and never will. I felt honored when I was actually given the chance to study there for a few weeks. But to be honest, I didn't really knew what to expect there. Nomad superweapons being tested on human lab rats? Long forgotten human prisoners who were thought to be dead? Another ancient ruin of the Daam K'Vosh Empire on the Estergebirge? Soon I shall know.
Almost two months have passed, since I've begun my studies at Fichtelgebirge. And every second I've spent there was more worth than a human's lifelong experiences. Unfortunately, I'll never have the chance to speak about the knowledge I've gained in detail. The risk would be too high.
Instead of that, I'll have to focus on my first priority now. The new task they have assigned me to. Setting the signal for something really big. The plan is malicious and simple together. And the Pandora will be a useful tool to achieve it with ease. It'll be beatiful.