Log Entry 1
05 Aug 2020Zamen Kensata
It had been years since I first left Earth. Venturing out on my own into the bubble; an assortment of hundreds of star systems claimed by humanity. Over a millennium ago there were few who dreamed that space travel would be realized beyond science fiction. That traveling to Pluto would be as simple as driving down to the corner store. Now us humans are free to wander as far as our resolve will allow us.So long as we can finance the journey, of course.
But as I mentioned; buying a ship can be as simple as a new personal vehicle from centuries past. What were they called? Automobiles. Gas gusslers.
I ventured out into known space, selling my piloting skills to the highest benefactor. I paid no heed to the different governmental and corporate factions vying for control and power. Didn't matter to me what their cause was, only how much they were willing to pay me. Not even the smaller groups that began springing up a few years ago. Personal squadrons of ship commanders who dreamed of staking out their own territory within the territory of the larger factions. It all seemed pretty silly to me; trying to lay claim to an endless void of stars and planets.
My ancestors, while loyal to the nations they called home, displayed primarily through military service; those within my direct line would always dream of freedom from it all. From rules, from governments, from people. If only they could just pick up and leave, they would think, and find some place quiet. I consider myself a realization of all of their dreams.
I started out like most commanders fresh off of their home worlds; with a small Sidewinder ready to take on the galaxy. Eventually, through various odd jobs and a bit of mining I was able to afford my pride and joy, a massive Anaconda I christened, the Draekoneasho. Strange name I know. But looking through my family history one individual born during one of Earth's most trying eras had caught my interest. He was a warrior of course, like most in my direct line but he was also a musician and writer. I would often read his stories while resting aboard my Python in the middle of space. The names and numbered designation on all of my eight ships are taken directly from his active imagination. All from the various worlds he created.
Now I own my own fleet of ships and recently the powers that be have commissioned battleship commanders, some retired, others looking for more of a profit than the military can provide, to captain civilian class battleships. These captains retain control of their crews and daily ship operations but for the destination of these far reaching behemoths...that command goes to those wealthy enough to afford the title of Commander.
I'm not a people person. But fortunately the only interaction I need have with the crew is telling their captain where I want to go and how I like my ships repaired. I had returned to Earth for several years as leaving known space for extended periods with no set goal wasn't appealing to me. But once news of the fleet carriers reached me, I knew that what I had been waiting for would finally arrive. I caught the first shuttle off world to the station where I had stored the Draekoneasho and set off to acquire the necessary funds.
Along the way, by pure chance I met a squadron commander who asked if I was interested in joining the ranks. I declined. But he was persistent and assured me that my disdain for following orders would not be a problem. Upon my own investigations, this squad seemed different; no commands, no quotas, no obligations. Just an assurance that a group of commanders that mostly prefer to keep to themselves would be there to lend a helping hand for jobs that one might find a bit too big to handle solo. So I joined.
And then the war started.
I neglected to tell any of my fellow squad mates that misfortune seemed to follow my ancestors around like the blackest of storm clouds on an otherwise sunny day. And that those storm clouds probably followed me into space. But we won. Not without a massive helping of internal and external drama, but we won. It's not that I can't handle obligations. I just like to be the one to set them. I made it clear I wouldn't leave on my journey until we beat back our enemies to the negotiation table. And we did. Now the squadron is spreading throughout the bubble and new members are joining everyday. With that settled, I allowed the call from the blackness of space to reach me once more. Even though I hadn't intended it to be a warship, the Draekul did her part in keeping the squad supplied for battle. Now she will take me out into the black where...well I don't know what awaits. Not expecting anything grand. But there will be new star systems that no one has set foot on that I will discover.
Although I had already done this. Back in my early days as a Commander, reaching the center of the galaxy was the goal. Sag A is basically a tourist destination visited by the average nuclear family. But getting there on your own with your own ship is still an impressive feet that I accomplished with the Draekoneasho.
Now I'm in a random system fifteen hundred light years away from Earth. A system untouched by any other human. Not too much like the pioneers of old. I'm not out here for humanity. I'm out here because...I feel like it. Our squadron commander is aboard. Helping with refueling and enjoying his own run of exploration. Even with everything that has happened over the years...I still don't like being around people. But out here sometimes I catch myself smiling at the fact that so many are willing to have my back even when I don't ask.
This is Commander Zamen Kensata of the Fleet Carrier, Draekul.
Signing off, for now.