Log 1: Conflict
12 Oct 2020Tala Wren
I have struggled to find a way to put this into words for a very long time; even now, sitting here in my personal quarters aboard the Razorcrest, my brand new Krait Phantom, I can hardly believe where I am.Seven years ago, this kind of freedom was a pipe dream; the closest I came to knowing the freedom of flying in the black, and that incredible feeling of being almost aloft and drifting into nothing, was on the transport to Sorbago. My parents were both dead, and I had inherited their debt, a debt which I could never even begin to pay off; so, I did the only thing I could do. I became an Imperial slave, and I ended up working for Mastopolos Mining, doing the hard labor. It was hard work, as mining tends to be, but I would be lying if I said I didn't find a little bit of comfort in the stability, even if we were all slaves.
And then the rebellion happened.
I don't know exactly how it started; I'm not sure anyone really does. But for a long time, there had been discontent among us; we were realizing that we were working and generating all of Mastopolos' wealth, and we weren't getting any part of it. We were slaves, after all; we were there to work off our debts, not become wealthy from blasting rocks.
Now, any time an accident happened, or equipment was damaged due to neglect, we were charged, and it was added to our debts; for a while, most of us just accepted this. It made sense; if we broke it, we owed the owner for the damages. But one day, there were whispers that our equipment was being deliberately sabotaged periodically, and as that began to spread, so to did the rumor that it was a secret plot to keep us enslaved for the rest of our lives.
The next thing I know, there's an uproar; someone got the idea to lead an organized protest to the Overseer, which turned into a riot when our demands were met only with security, which turned into an all-out conflict that spread across the entire planet and got the whole galaxy involved.
History already knows how this ends. It ends with the arrival of Torval's Majestic-class Interdictors, a hard-fought space battle that Imperial forces, with the help of independent pilots, win, and the suppression of the revolt by the Imperial military.
When more Majestics began showing up, I fled. Maybe that makes me a coward, I don't know; I didn't really see how we could hope to hold out against the Imperial military, so I and a few others took a ship and left. We parted ways once we reached a place outside of the Empire's grasp, and I made my way to the Pilot's Federation. My debts have long since been paid off, and I have left my Imperial citizenship behind. (They actually thought I was dead, until I contacted them about paying off my debts!)
And now, six years after I fought for my freedom against Imperial soldiers, here I am, docked in an Imperial-controlled station, having just spent time fighting on the side of Imperial citizens fleeing from the Imperial Navy's bloodlust. I had hoped for a more peaceful existence, to carve my way among the stars, out in the black, away from my former enslavers in the Empire, and away from the awful corporatism of the Federation. But I just can't find it within me to abandon these people, who are Imperial citizens as I once was, fighting for their lives and their freedom to express their political opinions, hoping to make the Empire a nation that centers its people, instead of its elite.
So, I guess I'll fight on, for now. Maybe when this is over, I'll take a break from civilized space, and see just how far out I can take the Razorcrest.
At least the pay is good.