As reported by Profiles In Enterprise (the complimentary news magazine of Orbital Spa & Cruise), a battered cargo pod was recently recovered among some wreckage in the Freeport 7 system. It was rumored that the derelict was one of the early ships piloted by Centaurian (Alpha) soon after his emigration to Sirius. Inside the pod were personal effects, including what appears to be the journal of his early experiences in this sector, detailing not only his own history, but also of the Independent Operators Consortium, which he founded. Despite his legal challenges to block release of this information, it was the ruling of the Alliance Salvage Board that abandonment of the items, and subsequent recovery by others, severs all rights Centaurian may have had to the information contained therein, and OSC is free to profit from its release.
Subequently, Profiles In Enterprise will publish excerpts from this journal in regular increments, for the enlightenment of its clients, irrespective of Centaurian's chagrin at the public exposure. Long known to be a private and reclusive monopolist, his story is offered here as a cautionary tale, as he and his organization appear to have fallen on hard times in recent months. Here, in all its unvarnished frankness, is the first installment:
Centaurian Journal – AS1323.11.13
Free at last! To pilot my own ship again, and explore the mysteries of the local sector on my own schedule! After that interminable, suffocating confinement that was my deliverance from yet another ravaged world, I feel as though it will take years to stretch enough to relive the damned cramping induced by our makeshift sleeper cells...
I reflect yet again on the stark contrast between my furtive escape voyage from the Alpha Centauri system and my now-unbridled freedom as a freelancer in the Sirius system. The pains in my back and hips aren't as piercing now, after three weeks in medical and a month in rehab. I was never so relieved as to discover that our gamble had in fact, paid off, and we had found a sector thrumming with civilization. We had not dared to hope for so much, having decided on Sirius solely on the logical premise that if the sensors were damaged, we could still navigate by dead reckoning toward the sky's brightest star. If only more of us had survived...it was a cruel universe that saw our race fleeing two worlds in a search of a fresh start.
The journey would not have been such a trial, if we had time to build redundant backup systems for the ship, but as it was, we had only barely escaped Plesetsk City moments before the Progenitors' initial salvo of quantum charges detonated on the habitation dome. Even the loss of cryo coolant would not have been so serious, if only the FTL drive had not also been damaged in the dark matter storm which engulfed the ship only a few light-hours from Sirius. The last seventeen weeks of the trip were a horror...a shudder runs involuntarily through my body as the memory of the trip's ending flashes briefly across my mind.
"Destination reached". The autopilot AI snaps me back to the present. With renewed vigor I sink back into the pilot's seat and begin the docking sequence. Here, at least, I won't be constantly looking over my shoulder for hostile aliens! And I have a new identity, courtesy of Liberty Naturalization Services: Centaurian Alpha, the first person to emerge from the ruins of our rescued transport.
“This is Planet Rodez, please proceed to land.” I have much to do to help my fellow survivors, several of whom await on the planet below. If we band together, I believe we can salvage something great from the trials we have shared…
