MY ELITE - CMDR [REDACTED] JOURNAL-LOG ENTRY 5
02 Feb 2022Greenthumbs
2nd February 3308Once a Angel, always an Angel.
I haven't had a schedule like this since my day's with the Crimson Armada. Some would call us the Red Angels for our rescue and protection operations while others assumed the Crimson Alliance were an entire fleet of cut throats who carved a bloody path to our controlled systems. We had many names and wings under the same command united through a common goal with titles and ranks in our sectors of space, but one thing was for certain; our numbers were strong and we were battle hardened, I was still young and lost in space as they say.
I have aged since then, every cycle I find myself just a little bit older with an occasional new grey hair yet wiser at the same time. I still keep in touch with some of the old crew but I found out a lot of them have retired and the remaining members have gone their seperate ways while maintaining guardianship over our territories. In modernized religion, Angels could never die but only lose their wings and fall. These Angels are very much still alive and in flight, somewhere out there resting and waiting until they are needed again.
I'm what my Commanding Officer refers to as 'the new generation of pilot'. I admit I didn't quite fit the age group of the wave of new commanders at the time, but getting my pilot's licence was my only ticket to freedom and unwillingly escape Earth. I did all the dumb things when I was younger and some I am not too proud to admit but I would not consider myself a bad person, I was just 'a kid who got mixed up with the wrong crowd' as the police used to say. Smuggling and extortion were my main hobbies, but robbing a Federal Lawyer was a little too far. I didn't know who he was at the time, I only knew he seemed to be an easy target and made a lot of moolah. Turns out this lawyer had a darker, sadistic side to him, the most vile that humanity has to offer.
I did everything the right way, yet he seemed like one of those people who would literally die for their money. Long story short, a scuffle ensues and he rips my mask off. Right then and there, game over is what should of happened. He told me who he was and he has optical implants that can record visual footage while in high stress, threatening or dangerous situations. In an attempt to get some leverage so he wouldn't send his optical footage to the authorities, I went through his data logs on his home terminal. Holding him at gunpoint, what I found I can not mention on these logs. The very thought of it fills me with the same rage I had on that humid night. I see everything. I hear everything. Hand squeezes tightly. Loud bang, bright flash. I hear nothing. Ear hurts. I see red. I have killed a man.
Due to the circumstances and link to my father, I was offered a deal and decided to take it. I got moved to Dalton Gateway after a short period in detention and started off as a full-time laborer. Basically I had to do everything for everyone involved in the maintenance of the station for a while until I finally got approved for the Pilot's Academy. If you were to ask me back then would I rather be back home on Earth or on that station in the grease among the space rats and filth, I would of said take me back home to scavange and steal or fight for a living. Now, I am qualified to do almost anything and I can make a difference in not only my own life but others in need. Even though my service is forced, I am still free.
War is upon us. The new age of war. I was assigned to a special operation to protect, scout and patrol the bottom of the core while pushing back rival parties. Being successful, I have gained the attention of Denton Patreus himself and his Imperial Agents harassing and sometimes provoking conflict indirectly. I heard that through out the border region of the ICZ sector, propaganda has spread that I was once an Imperial Lord who lead the charge in the Jera Rebellion then abandoned my post. This is obviously impossible for around that time I was still on Earth, young, pulling small heists and blowing my credits on girls at the gentlemen's club.
I found an old photograph of my mother and I when I was just a baby. The photo is taken from behind with my mother facing a sunset, I can't see her face but I know it's her. A lot of these memories I can barely remember. It seems as if the day I headed out for the first time after receiving my pilot's licence was the first time I truly felt alive and my consciousness was clearer more then ever, as if I had awoken from a long deep slumber. My condition is apparently getting better according to Dr. Kovac, he's put me on some new prescription to help me sleep and suppress the dreams. They seem to work to an extent, although the occasional dream I do manage to have after a dose of Helix starts to feel lucid, more or less like memories of 'Deja Vu', as they say back on Earth. These moments happen regardless even when im awake, as if to be memories of a previous life. I have also started dreaming of a woman standing on the grey surface of Earth's moon without a VAC suit. I do not know this woman but I feel as if she is someone I once knew but had deliberately fogotten, attempting to remember.
As for now, it's back to business as usual while the Federal Command have offered me another position in a special operation. This time, I have the chance of engaging for the first time with a Thargoid.