Logbook entry

Deleted Log #1

INITIATING ANUBIS OS.
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ERROR. AUTHORIZATION KEY REJECTED. MEMETIC KILL AGENT WILL BE ACTIVATED UPON THE SECOND FAILURE.

>//...Authentication Bypass: AJ$%&#AY+*@#%&F
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ERROR. AUTHORIZATION KEY REJECTED. MEMETIC KILL AGENT ACTIVATED.


Biographic scan complete. WELCOME BACK, CAPTAIN.


INITIATING ANUBIS OS.

USERNAME: cjameson1879
PASSWORD:**********
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WELCOME BACK, CAPTAIN. APPLYING ENCRYPTED CONNECTION...

Initiating Recording Playback...

AUDIO RESYNTH: ACTIVATED
LOG
LOG TYPE: DELETED
RECORDING LOCATION: FNS SHROUDBREAKER (FARRAGUT-CLASS VESSEL)
SYSTEM NAME (DEACTIVATED): ERROR
==========================PLAYBACK BEGIN===================================

This is a recorded letter addressed to Admiral Alexander Sepulveda that was found deleted.


Death.

I've seen enough of it to know that it is inevitable. But to watch the light in a person's eyes slowly fade away after you pull the trigger is something else. It gives you fear—regret, anger, and frustration. You begin to hate yourself, your peers, fellow soldiers, and your pilots.
I hate myself for what I did. It always comes back to me in my head, whether a thought or the barrel of a P-15. I told myself it was never my fault that he died, that I wouldn't have been able to turn around and fire before the guns hit him. They told me the same thing. Now, look at me. A broken man, holding a rank that was wrongfully granted to me. And the only way I earned that was by learning how to kill.
My first experience of death was a raid on an Imperial mining reserve. We had been tasked with taking out several HVTs, as well as seizing data that was crucial to holding Federal space. Our XO tripped an alarm, and everything went to shit. We never once fired our weapons, Backup cleared the area. Once the firing ceased, our CO brought us together and dragged a barely walking Imp to us. He started yelling saying that whoever shot the man would be granted the rank of second-in-command, and if nobody did, he would kill us all. I was the only one that walked forward.
I unholstered my weapon and slowly raised it to his head. The man was crying for fuck sake. Tears filled my eyes. I saw everything. He was forced into war by a government that had no regard for safety. I second-guessed myself and lowered my weapon before raising it again. I looked him dead in the eyes and said "Everything will be alright my friend." Through his sobs, I watched as he mouthed "Thank you" before closing his eyes.
I was sixteen when I first pulled the trigger of a gun to kill a man. When it was all done, I fell to the ground of that moon and cried, my arms wrapped around not an enemy, but a fellow brother in combat. Aaron tried to pull me off and I wouldn't budge. I slowly watched the light fade away in the eyes of my fellow soldier before turning to my Commanding officer with a face of rage. I don't remember much after that, but the reports say I shot him in the femoral artery of his right leg. I sat there for hours before letting go of the man.
And now (*sniffle), I can't even count the number of men and women I've had to kill to protect my men, myself, and my family. God knows how many will die to my hand in order to "Protect and defend" the Federation. I'll never be able to forgive myself for what I did. I committed atrocities unknown to so many people.

I pray to God that I never have to kill again once I retire. That I can simply float through the stars with only my thoughts and a cappuccino. Per audacia ad Astra, Admiral.

Starflight out.
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