Logbook entry

The Zealot

27 Feb 2023Ember Lacson
I’m still coming down off an adrenaline rush that started about 0730 GMT the day before yesterday. Most of this is going to be based on security recordings, because frankly I don’t remember what happened.

It was at the end of a fairly long and difficult day. I made four passenger runs between HIP 20485 and Tarach Tor. That’s a twelve jump round trip at my Python’s current jump range. I was hyperdicted at least five times. I was interdicted in-system at least four. I almost lost my ship twice. I saved over five hundred lives. But at the end of the day I was forced to take one.

A couple of important things before I start. First, my carrier is not registered with the AXI. They are welcome at it, but there are no identifying marks. Second, I am not a member of AXIN, the squadron operated by the AXI. I neither have the rank to be eligible nor the single minded AX focus that being a sqaudron member entails. And I’m happy to leave that spot open for someone whom it fits better. But in similar fashion to the local AX contract pilots, I’ve identified myself as an AX CMDR when flying my Python. I have multiple anti-xeno decals, and I changed the name to add the prefix “AXPax,” short for AX Passenger Transport. But I don’t think things would have been different if I hadn’t.

My final run, I saw several human ships attacking the local AX pilots as I approached. My Python is currently unarmed, so I stayed out of the way, but I saw at least one of the AX pilots jettison an escape pod before their ship exploded. I filled my cabins with refugees, set course for the rescue ship, then grabbed as many escape pods as I had space for on the way out. I’ve done this a handful of times. I’m trying to save as many people as I can, after all.

I got to the rescue ship without Thargoid related incident this time. I waited around to make sure every passenger was off safe and sound. Then the rescue ship staff unloaded the escape pods and cracked them open one by one. I was surprised to find out the third one was empty despite reading occupied on both the pod transponder and my manifest. They said this is rare but usually happens when you have a multi pod ship that jettisons all the pods at once. Sometimes it will mark them all occupied even if only one is. They thanked me for my service and paid me for everything, then sent me on my way.

I should have done a final sweep of the passenger cabins. If I had, I could have avoided this mess. But I didn’t. And I’ll never make that mistake again. I took off about eighty kilos heavy. I had no way of knowing it short of a sweep or memorizing my unladen, full tank mass. But I was tired. Hot, sweaty, covered in grease and dirt, and I wanted nothing more than a hot shower and a nice, soft pillow. This guy could have jumped me. Put a bullet in the back of my head and taken my ship for himself, and I never would have been able to stop him. But he wanted to make a scene, and not just in front of me.

I docked just like normal. I met Nicole in the hallway with a hug and a kiss. She told me she was proud of me and all the good work I had done. Then she noticed someone approaching behind me, and her expression changed. “Oh my God,” she said, and when I noticed she was looking at someone I spun around.

I saw a man in a grimey Maverick suit stained with what proved later to be years-old blood from at least four people. His face was covered with red scarifications, most of them looking to be a few weeks old at most. In the center of his forehead was a Thargoid glyph. I recognized it right away even though I had no idea what Thargoid glyphs looked like. We still have no idea what it means, but I don’t think it matters. People still get Chinese tattoos that they think say “Faith, Hope, Love,” or “Overcome your fears, while they actually say, “Dumb white woman” or “Can’t read Chinese.”

There is nothing more unsettling than seeing a person who is clearly unhinged acting dead stoic. He didn’t shamble along or have any facial tics like a stereotypical movie madman; he was calm and collected, and he carried himself with confidence. He stopped about five meters from us and crossed his arms. “Good work?” he said, shaking his head. “Hardly.”

“Who the hell are you?” I asked, then said, “Nicole, stay behind me.”

He waited for several seconds to respond, then said, “A propet. A zealot. A man whose human name no longer has any meaning. A holy warrior for the Far God, chosen to aid his emissaries in preparing the way for the lord. I come not to bring peace, but a sword.”

“Take His words out of your mouth,” I said. “You’re not Jesus, and you’re certainly not John the Baptist.”

“Ah, so you are one of those. Not surprised.” He relaxed his stance a bit. “No, you’re right. I am a normal sinner just like you. But at least I’m doing what I was chosen to do.” His expression twisted into a sneer. “They spared you. Both of you. I can see it in your eyes, the telltale mark that you will never acknowledge. Even though you fought them, killed them, took their proverbial scalps for profit…they still spared your lives. And how do you repay them? You stay aligned with their enemies. You save the lives of those they have marked for death. You continue to kill them, you ungrateful pieces of shit. What is your total now…half a billion in the last month? Certainly a full billion once you account for all the lives you took in the weeks before Salvation’s Folly.”

“Look, I know they spared us,” I said. “I’ve thought about that before. But I’m fighting to protect the innocent.”

“And that’s why you’re going to Asterope? That’s why you emblazon your ship with the name and decals of their sworn enemies? That’s why you make your home a haven for that very same filth?” He spat on the floor. “You disgust me.”

I pointed at the end of the hallway. “You said your peace. Now get the f**k off my carrier.”

“On whose ship, exactly?” he asked.

“Your ship,” Nicole said from behind me. “The one you came here on.”

“No, that would be his ship,” he said, pointing to me. “My ship is a million pieces of debris floating around Macedo Hub.”

“The pod,” I said in realization.

He nodded and clapped in a slow, sardonic manner. “Yes, the pod. Your drive to save your pathetic species will prove to be your undoing. If not by my hand, it will be by the hand of another. They’ve been trying to tell you something, and you know it. The only way out is to listen. To repent and be baptized.”

“I’ll pass,” I said.

He nodded. “You certainly will.” He reached for his pistol. His crossed-arm stance gave me enough time to activate my shield, but he still moved with superhuman speed. He got off three shots before I could clear my holster. I heard Nicole scream in pain. His shield was still down since he was focused on trying to kill me. I unloaded the magazine center mass, and somewhere close to the last three shots, he went limp as his blood floated in the air around him. I reloaded and kept my pistol trained on him. The slightest sign of movement would have triggered another mag dump, but he didn’t.

“You okay?” I asked Nicole.

“I’m bleeding,” she replied. “I think one caught me.”

I turned around and checked her. Her arm was wet with blood and some small globules floated in the nearby air, but it wasn’t bad. “Looks like a graze,” I said. “Head over to sickbay.” I looked past her as security appeared in response to the gunfire. “Go. We’ve got this.”

She nodded and dashed past the security team, holding her bleeding arm as she went. The ranking officer called for a medic, while the other one trained her weapon on me as a precaution.

“Self defense,” I said, putting my weapons close to the floor and backing away from them. I deactivated my shield and held my hands out to the side.

“You’re good, Commander,” she said, and she lowered her rifle. I collected my weapons as the medic rushed past. I followed and stood by while they assessed the intruder.

“He’s gone,” the medic said after finding no vitals. “Time of death 0753 hours.” He looked over at me. “You good, Commander?”

I shook my head, then said, “Yeah. Shield ate the rounds. One got past and grazed Nicole, but she’s on her way to sickbay.”

“Yeah, I saw her on the way out,” he said. “Is that the only other casualty?”

“No, she’s not a causalty; she’s fine.”

He stood up. “Injuries count as casualties. I’ll take you to sickbay. You look like you’re about to go into shock. Come on.”

I followed him to sickbay, arguing the whole time about going into shock. I was, as it turned out, but once they gave me a tranquilizer it helped me process things. I was grounded yesterday to recover. They said I’m good to go today if I still want to fly, but I’m still very much on edge, and I don’t think I’ll be able to do pax runs without worrying about more stowaways or pro-xeno extremists. Nicole is doing fine physically, but she’s pretty withdrawn. She’s seen combat, but nothing like this.

My chief of security has a medical examiner coming out for an autopsy. It’s legally required since the altercation happened in a neutral space. There’s more than enough evidence to prove self defense, so I’m not afraid of the law. I’m going to have her examine his eyes. They didn’t find anything abnormal with either of ours, but…this whole thing is creeping me the frak out.
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