The Black
11 Sep 2022Aeson Keal
Well, I'm here. Star One they call it. The closest Milky Way star to Andromeda. I burned through a chunk of FSD boost injection to get out here, and for what? A grainy view of a galaxy we'll never see in my lifetime. On the plus side, these galactic leaders actually pay good money to scan systems. That's all ya gotta do, drop into supercruise, point the FSS at a planet, and boom! free money. No wonder most of the galaxy is broke and starving, our "saviors" are spending it all on stupid splik like terraformable planets that will never see another probe. Not your circus, not your monkeys, Aeson.It's quiet out here, almost too quiet. Any man that's been alone with his thoughts for too long can turn to madness, but a man who's done questionable things for powerful, ignorant leaders; well let's just say there are a few things darker and more depressing than madness. I'm sitting in the cargo bay airlock, have been for a few hours, thinking about life. There's a reason there's a saying "never drink alone" Aeson. I've fought legitimate battles, albeit as a pawn in a game played by obscenely powerful beings, but they were fair. Men & women in ships, shooting at each other. Sure the newer SLF's have telepresence, but it wasn't always like that. And just because the fighter pilot isn't directly in harm's way doesn't mean the cutter can't be shot to splik.
But I've done more than just fair firefights. The raids, assassinations, wet work; all in the name of Dark Ops. At the time, I was just part of a team. A team of elite operatives who's only task was to get results. We didn't fail, we couldn't fail. They told us to do the impossible, and our only reply was "no problem." It never occurred to me in the moment what I was actually doing. It was just a job. Just a job Aeson? how many innocent people lost their homes, their loved ones, their damned lives for "a job?" You knew damn well what you were doing from the beginning, but your incessant need to always succeed, always deliver results, and always prove yourself pushed the true nature of the task to the back of your mind. The way back, the dark place, where its's locked in a box, and no one ever knows. But you know, Aeson, you know what you've done. MURDERER.
Am I? Sure, I pulled the trigger, but if not me, it would just be someone else. But at least I know that it was one shot, one kill. I've heard the stories of some of the more, well, insane Dark Ops guys who took their time, enjoyed the kills, made it slow. So that makes it okay? A merciful murderer is better than a murderer who tortures their target? C'mon Aeson, you're grasping at straws here. Just call the cards as they fall. You killed innocent people for profit.
What do you want me to say? Did I enjoy it? No. Would I do it again, given the same opportunities? Yes. Does it make me a bad person? An evil person? I don't feel evil, I feel miserable. That's got to count for something, right? Whatever you need to tell yourself to sleep at night, Aeson. So what would you have me do? Huh? Am I beyond redemption? And don't feed me this God splik, if there was a god, they would've stuck me down a long, long time ago. No omnipotent power would watch their creation suffer in such a manner without taking action. What should I do? How do I redeem myself? Opens a fresh bottle of Scotch
As I lay here, drowning in my own sorrows, the sorrows of people I never got the chance to know, and the people that are no longer in this galaxy, a pri-one message comes over GalNet. I only catch snippets as I'm pretty sure I'm either suffering from alcohol poisoning or there's a leak in the airlock and I'm running out of O2. But the last conscious thought to form in my mind before I pass out is clear. Salvation failed, god-damned humanity kicked the hornet's nest, and we don't have any idea what's inside. Maybe I did all those people a favor...