I was born to the starport director of Paradiso Outpost in 17 Draconis. I spent my early childhood as many other children did. I attended school and lived on Paradiso. Although a tourist destination, the small local population was a tight nit community. My friends and I would often play in the woods near my home. War, tag, hide and seek, all of the things you would expect from young boys. On lucky occasions when my father was not drowned in work, he took me fishing and hunting. I learned quickly that I had a desire to explore and would often find myself wandering to far from home, much to my mother's dismay. However, this normal childhood was not to last. The ugly falling out between my parents when I was the ripe age of 9 caused a rift in all of our lives. My mother moved to the other side of Federation space dragging my sister along, while my father climbed his way up the corporate latter, got remarried, and had another child. By the age of 18 I had lived in 13 different star systems. All of this travel exposed me to many walks of life. From the affluent nobles of imperial space to the humble farmers of Rhea 3 and Foursyth. I was grateful for the exposure, but lacked any sense of a real "home."

I spent the first year of my adult hood working odd jobs which left me very unsatisfied. I put my desire to explore on the back burner and looked to where I could best apply my curiosity. I discovered I had an aptitude for electronics and thus set out to become an Electrical Engineer. I did well in my studies and specialized in digital hardware and circuit design. Having had the fortune to intern at Sirius Corporation, I managed to snatch a position working on frame shift drive design and testing right out of the gate.

This position was the doorway to my life now. I quickly mastered the drive inside and out. In the process I also picked up quite a bit of knowledge of the subsystems of a multitude of spacecraft. My broad skills landed me a spacecraft system engineer (SSE) position and plenty of field work. Finally, the stars aligned. A research vessel aimed out past Barnard’s Loop was looking for an SSE for their voyage. I put my name in the hat and had the blessing of being selected. I was stationed on the FNS Stellar Prospector, a heavily modified Python tailored for long range exploration. It was to begin its voyage from Alpha Centauri as soon as all hands where on deck. Its pilot, Commander Steve Lawrence, was quite the individual. He was incredibly intelligent, to the point where casual conversation with him could be challenging at times. Coupled with a rather dry sense of humor he came off as a fairly abrasive individual. His nickname of Grumpy seemed rather fitting. However, he was an excellent leader and navigator. Through our interactions on the bridge, he seemed to take a particular liking too me. Showing me the ins and outs of being a commander and how to properly fly a spacecraft. The majority of the mission was unremarkable. Mostly planetary scans, a few surface excursions, and a lot of sample processing. The ship ran like a dream so I spent most of my time alongside CMDR Lawrence or doing system reports. The experimental drive on the ship was fascinating. While I had seen many of the cutting-edge prototypes being developed at Sirius Corp. I had yet to see any of them in actual use. Furthermore, parts of the drive contained components I had never encountered. Any interaction with these parts was done by the chief of engineering on the ship, who was not keen on sharing any information about them. This would come back to haunt us soon.

As we began the trip back towards Alpha Centauri, we made a pit stop in Witch Head Sector FB-X C1-9 to refuel. The star was within one jump of a handful of outposts near the Witch Head Nebula which we all agreed would provide an extra layer of safety for the layover while not moving the research ship through more inhabited space. In our attempt to avoid pirates, we drew the attention of something much worse. I would later come to learn that the “heavily modified” frame shift drive was actually equipped with a Guardian Frame Shift Drive Booster. Those unknown components where this device. The official story indicates that no one knew it would attract the Thargoids, but I have my doubts. As we finished fueling, we moved from the star and dropped from supercruise to check that the external hull had not taken any significant heat damage. Two technicians where on EVA when the interceptor made its appearance. The rain of cannon fire shredded them to pieces and damaged the starboard hull from the large weapon hard point all the way to the nose. CMDR Lawrence raised the shields and maxed the thrusters in an attempt to run. We had our next jump already planned so we just had to survive long enough to hit witchspace. The interceptor’s cannons crippled the shield generator and damaged both of the main thrusters before we finally entered the wormhole. We all sighed a breath of relief thinking we were safe, but the green glow and violent tumbling of the ship quickly alerted us to the contrary. The impossible was happening, we where being ripped from witchspace.

With the FSD on cooldown, CMDR Lawrence brought the Prospector around to face our adversary. The hardpoints deployed and the multi cannons let lose onto the target. In reflection, my panic had caused me to completely miss the fact the variant of cannon was one I had not seen before. (I later came to realize these where experimental versions of the AX multi cannon, perhaps the dangers where not as unknown as I was led to believe). The attempt at stopping our adversary was heroic, but short lived. A salvo from the interceptor’s cannon peeled open the spine of the ship. Ripping the canopy apart and disabling both the frame shift drive and reactor. Ill never forget the sounds of the breach. The momentary screams, the woosh as all the air left the cabin, and then the silence filled only with the beat of my heart. The consoles all went dark and ship began to slowly tumble. As the hole which once was the view port came around to face the interceptor, the horror was only continued. It was collecting the bodies of the crew that had been sucked through the canopy breach. As fast as it had all happened it was over. Inky tendrils crept out of nothingness in front of the interceptor. Like a creature of the night, it slipped into the darkness and vanished.

I sat still for an unknown time. Still strapped to my seat and watching the stars go by as the ship tumbled dead through space. CMDR Lawrence’s harness had also spared him from being sucked out of the cabin, but the shrapnel scattered from the cannon fire had done its toll. I was able to shake the shock of, activate my mag boots, and begin the slow walk to the commander. Even from a distance I could see the damage to his suit. It was venting oxygen and blood into space. I reached him, what was left at least, and could see there was nothing I could do. I pushed my helmet against his so the sound could reach through the suit. What he said was labored and short. I will never forget his last words, “take us home.”

My only hope would be to reactivate the reactor and frame shift drive, as well as hope I could somehow initiate a jump with what was left of the cockpit. If I was fortunate some of the other crew may have survived in engineering and the medical bay. I slowly made my way through the dark cabins of the ship. The only illumination being the flashlight mounted to my helmet and the dim red emergency lights that occupied a handful of corridors. Upon reaching the engineering room door I took a moment to compose myself. What if it was all gone, torn from the ship like the bridge crew. What if there was no hope for me. I tried to bury this feeling of dread as I used the emergency access panel to force the door open. While in disarray and lacking an atmosphere the engineering cabin was mostly intact. the reactor and frame shift drive where still inside the ship. Unfortunately, no surviving crew had yet to be seen. The two missing escape pods led me to believe the chief of engineering and the reactor technician had managed to escape. The lack of any radar contacts on my suits HUD led me to also fear they had been scooped up by the interceptor that did all of this. I did not have time to feel anything in that moment though. The oxygen was only going to last so long and I had much work to do. I maneuvered around the sharp metal spikes and tears created by the cannon fire cutting through the hull. I dug all the tools out of their storage and as many spare parts as I could find in the hold. My engineering suit had been uploaded with schematics for many of the ships systems, so I was going to rely heavily on this in my attempt to get us up and running. I lost track of how much time had passed. It all felt like one long blur interrupted only by breaks to recharge the oxygen and power from the nearby unlaunched escape pod. The reactor repair was not going to be as significant of a challenge as the frame shift drive. A stray cannon round had sent shrapnel into some of the cooling pipes and one of the confinement field magnets. Simply pulling the magnet module out, placing the new one in, and not messing up the wiring diagram was all that was needed to remediate most of the issue. Repairing the coolant pipes was even more straight forward. Extract shrapnel, place emergency coupling over puncture, zip tie, then weld. Fortunately, all the equipment could interface with suit gauntlets, so I could work without the ship power being online. That being said, the frame shift drive was in rough shape. Many of the experimental components on the drive had been fried by a massive short within the control board. A round must have impacted the drive housing directly, as a huge hole had been melted through it and many of the electronics had become one soupy mess. After an exhaustive effort, I finally decided to clip all the control wires connected to the experimental portion of the drive and attempt to wire them in the fashion of a simple E rated frame shift drive control circuit. The patch work seemed mostly successful. There was one other massive issue I had discovered bypassing the experimental portion. The bundle of wires connecting the cockpit to the FSD had been severed in multiple locations, and testing it with a multimeter indicated a variety of issues. Even if I could get the drive online, it would be unlikely that I could give it commands from the cockpit. I took a long pause to closely inspect the wiring diagram for the control harness. The required voltages, timing diagrams, and serial protocols where all there for me. I pondered for a while, partially stunned by exhaustion, partially being consumed with the ever-growing dread in my soul. I formulated my last-ditch plan. I was going to jump the ship to Lembass, put up a distress beacon, and hope. The FSD commands are rather straight forward when jumping such a short distance. It only needs the target coordinates in the sky, the distance to the target, and the initialization command. I could use the Universal Cartographics database in my suit to get the first two values, and use a simple pulse for the last. In their infinite wisdom, the engineers at Remlok had put a field programable gate array within the engineering suit with input/output ports on the left forearm vambrace. I wrote a rather rudimentary script to drive the pins with the correct data then performed one last check of the power couplings to the FSD from the reactor. It would have been my luck if I hadn’t checked these that the drive would have overloaded and turned the ship to dust. I initiated a reactor start which quickly brought what was left of the ship back to life. The flight assist program must have still been on when the ship died as it violently stopped tumbling right after the lights came back. If I had not had a grip on one of the support struts I would have likely been thrown through a hole in the hull. The moment of truth had come. I mumbled a small prayer to myself and commanded the script to execute. The ship lurched around for a moment, then I felt the pull of the drives begin to push the husk of a spacecraft towards some distant star. I could feel the hull vibrating as the FSD spooled next to me. A warm blue glow emanating from deep inside. I saw the space outside the ship first warp, then tear. I could see things in the abyss flying below me. Distant nebulas, amorphous stars, and colors interweaving it all. Suddenly it was over. The darkness permeated by a handful of stars. I returned to the escape pod, activated the distress beacon, and waited in silence.

A search and rescue vessel arrived in around an hour. By blind luck I had jumped within 4000 light seconds of Tsao Prospect. I was brought over to the rescuing Anaconda and placed in their medical bay while a search team investigate the rest of the ship. Two crew members had also survived in the medical bay. Trapped behind the damaged door and unable to use the escape pods due to their launchers being blasted shut. Once they were on board the Prospector was linked to the Anaconda and towed to the station. It was less than 24 hours before a Federal Navy incident response team arrived. The interview was quick and I was applauded for my “heroics.” As quickly as it had seemed to happen, it was all over. I was fortunate enough that CMDR Lawrence’s children invited me to his funeral, where he was laid to rest among the stars. The whole experience had changed me. A fire began to burn inside. Dim at first, but vying for revenge. I managed to track the Stellar Prospector's ship ID to a scrap yard near Gende. I had received enough compensation from the whole ordeal to purchase the remains and patch up most of the damage. I retired the name, as it went down with her captain, and rebranded the ship as the Silent Guardian. I spent the following months obtaining my pilots federation license, then mining enough painite to upgrade Guardian as well as purchase and outfit an Anaconda for exploration. I named it the Soaring Stellar Jay. I fulfilled my childhood dream of exploration and took the Soaring Stellar Jay to Beagle point, leaving my Python with the finest engineers I could find. All with one goal, make it able to kill any Thargoid I may ever find.

My time in the black allowed my fire to grow. All that time in isolation had allowed me to reflect on the whole ordeal. Around the time of the Alexandria incident, I was in Colonia making my way back to the bubble. I fast tracked my return using the neutron star highway. I retrieved my Python upon arrival and use my massive Universal Cartographics data payout to pay off all my engineering debts. It carried a complement of new guardian weapons, guardian modules, and the best engineering available in the galaxy. It was faster, stronger, and more agile than I thought a Python could be. I began studying the massive catalog of material the Anti Xeno Initiative provided to any willing pilots. I used it to hone in on the best way of taking down the Thargoid menace. I had only a handful of successful cyclops takedowns when Salvation fired his proteus wave, bringing the might of the Thargoids to our doorstep.

Unbeknown to me during my journey was that my younger sisters had also completed their pilots federation training and had earned their licenses. The older of the two led an anti-piracy crew that defended Robigo from celebrity abductions. The younger however had been present in Sosong when the Thargoids attacked. Watching the chaos that ensued, she as well had been drawn to fighting the Thargoids. While I tried to dissuade the overly optimistic 17 year old from wading into a war at such a young age, I realized no amount of arguing would change her mind. Ever since that fateful day, myself, my sister, and a handful of friends we made along the way have tried our best to help stave off the thargoid invasion. Having racked up thousands of kills across hundreds of planets, we continue our quest to stamp out the Thargoid threat. We directly support the AXI whenever possible and provide frontline offence whenever needed.

Forever may we be a light shining in the darkness.