...Incoming Transmission...
...Sender ID - Edward Cullen...
-Video link established, opening message-
Good day, Mister Illest.
So, your full name is Illest? Interesting... Anyways, the application your provided for joining our cause is rather un-detailed. I strongly suggest you prove it to us that you are loyal with your life story. I'd like to know it. I'd also like to know why would you want to join our cause. What made you think that way?
**Incomming Transmission**
**Transmission targeted: Designation: Edward Cullen Reapers of Sirius**
**Encryption Level: Basic**
**Sender: Illest**
My life story is not one of special importance I am a humble man but if you so desire to better understand my reasoning I shall oblige.
My first real memories are of the Maltese orphanage.
The workers were kind, they treated me well.
When I was around Seven I was adopted into a middle classed family.
My adopted father was a cruel man who beat me when I miss behaved, I recall I tried many times to run away.
My 'mother' was a gentle lady who would often attempt to stop his angry out busts.
One afternoon I had been doing my chores when a cannister of water fell from a shelf, It split the retaining cap and the water spilled out upon the floor.
My mother heard the noise and hurried in to help me clear the mess before my adopted father noticed.
He came into the room and saw the wet floor and flew into a wild rage.
My mother knowing that I would be beaten began to explain that it was her who had spilt the water. As he raised his hand to hit her across the face I jumped in front of him.
He was much bigger than me I was only in my early teens by then.
I looked the man straight in the face and with every ounce of my courage I spoke
'Sir if you strike this woman I will end you' 'I split the canister not her'.
I awoke 3 days later in a hospital bed my jaw had been broken and I was told by the nurse I was lucky to be alive.
The doctors were surprised by how fast I healed, it wasn't long before I could speak again.
I decided that place was no longer home for me.
As I was due to be discharged I made my final escape.
I made my way to the hospital loading bays and hid myself away in a cargo crate.
Some time later the crate began to shake and move around me I now know it was being loaded aboard a ship.
The Vasquez
The crate shook more violently now it seemed to go on forever then the shaking stopped and I fell asleep.
I awoke with a start I had been discovered, I was taken by a burly man to see the captain.
'What have we here then' The captain proclaimed as I was brought before him,
'We found him stowed away with the medical supplies cap' the burly man replied.
And the captain didn't say anything for a long time, but he looked at me from head to foot, and he looked very fierce and stern, I remember feeling very uncomfortable in those few minutes.
And then he spoke "Who are you, and where did you come from?" asked the Captain,
"Give an account of yourself."
As I recounted my tale to the captain he smiled although he did not mean to then he interrupted me
'Well I aint turning around now' 'Can you work?'
His words were like music to my ears and I let out my breath as I replied that I would do any job that he set for me as best as I could.
Then a dire look came over the Captains face,'Boy you are going to become sick, you are going to become sick and you are probably going to die' 'We don't carry Cardimine'
'Cap' interrupted the burly man 'I have spare.'
'So be it then teach the lad to work and I'll make my mind up at the next dock' replied the captain
So it began my work as a trader but I never did become sick and the burly man called Rolph never did have to share his Cardamine with me.
I Spent eight years with the crew of the Vasquez up until my early twenties it was a close bond that I had with those men and Ron (The captain) was more of a father to me than anyone ever had been or would be again.
The Vasquez was destroyed by a Corsiar gunboat whilst hauling supplies to Malta.
The rest of the survivors and I were picked up by Maltese warship.
Ron never made it.
I was 22 I had just lost my home, my job, some of best men I ever knew and the man who was like my father.
I was full of anger, all I wanted was revenge.
I enlisted in the Maltese Navy and began a career as a fighter pilot.
As I progressed through the ranks I learned more and more about the war I found my principles were being questioned daily why were we even fighting?
My anger had long since passed and many had died at my hand, I struggled with my conscience for quite some time until one day I approached my commanding officer with my concerns.
The conversion ended with me resigning my commission as I told him I could no longer be a party to an unjust war.
After much soul searching and after hearing a rumour of brave men fighting for peace I made my communication to the Reapers of Sirius.
I saw in the wiki no faction and that could intervene in any situation, it suits me to be able to balance the forces in systems omicron.
This is the only identification that allows it throughout Sirius. So I want to take this opportunity because the forces are not equal with respect to arms and then as it is for the good of omicrons and omega, I could be a new view of things!
I am honest and I corresponds to the request.
who may need a reaper to help his system in omicron?
this is the best I can do to support my application
COMM ID:Angel Kate 'Valkyrie' Golanska TO:Unknown applicant Subject:Recruitment Encryption:Medium
You need to write more than this to get in. Who you were, who are you now? Your specific reasons to join Reapers? And what they call you, if you have a name?
Reaper 1:Give us a reason not to, you look ready for your time. *pulls out a holstered gun*
*The man's eyes widen*
Whoa. Let me.. *cough* explain myself, please.
Reaper 1:*cocks gun* Make it quick.
*He takes a deep, unsteady breath*
My name's Marcus Vega.
My father, a tactics instructor at an Armed Forces academy, raised me in a classical home on New London. Since the day I remember him, he taught me to be everything a parent wanted their kid to be; polite, intelligent, humble, respected. He loved me, and I loved him. He encouraged me to get the best education I could, he wanted me to someday be able to own everything I wanted. That was my goal at the time.
My mother? Dead.
A factory accident led her to plummet four stories to her death when I was just 14. The company gave us a large reparation for our loss, but no amount of money could bring her life back. I had been a top scholar already in college at the time... but she had a great influence on me. I couldn't look at any woman.... and not cry, as every female reminded me of her. I dropped out of college soon after, and practically lived in solitude for years.
My father had been devastated by the whole incident... he was never the same person after. Every time he looked at me.... he cried. I guess he saw a part of her in me... but I couldn't see it. I never did.
More years went by.
And then when I thought things couldn't get any worse... they did.
My father was next in line for the Kusair-Bretonia War drafting. I don't even remember him saying "goodbye" to me. He left me with the house, his vehicles, everything he owned.... I knew what he was thinking.
I just wasn't enough to keep him alive.
He was one of the first to die. But he wasn't a coward either. He took out an entire squad before delivering the sacrificial blow that punctured the main components of a battleship.
He is.... was a great man.
*His voice becomes unsteady, fragile*
My family's gone. My mom, my dad, both lost. If I could just hold them in my arms, talk to them, look at them....
*A long pause is taken, a silent volume of crying can be heard, but barely. A long pause is taken again*
My life... soon took a turn for the worst. I stole an armed vehicle as an act of revenge against the damned Kusarians. I flew to space, being chased by police units, jumped a few times, and approached the nearest combat zone. There they were; those bloody Kusarians fighting my kind. I went in, guns blazing.... I didn't know what I was getting myself into.... I had piloting experience, but I never took combat training. Very surprisingly.... I took out a few, and then more.... but the police and forces wasn't aware of what I was doing, and assumed that I had been violating combat territory and posed as a threat to them.
They began firing on me.
I couldn't fight back... I just couldn't. So I fled. Somehow I lost them, but I lost myself at the same time. I didn't know where the hell I was, the system had been uncharted on this ship. I flew to where my gut told me to. Eventually I hit a place where the sun was green, and the space was open. No jump gates. Only a few planets in the distance.
Just as I was dazed and lost in thought, approached Corsairs.
Of course.
I heard about them back on New London... Cannibals.
A transmission was sent from their ships to mine, I accepted it, scared that if I didn't, I'd be killed in a snap.
But, they sounded nice and hospitable.. maybe all the things I heard about them were wrong. They offered me security and home on their planet if I came onto one of their vessels. So I did so, but once the boarding bay door had opened, they were armed, and took me by force, and knocked me unconscious. But in the background, I could hear them making jokes about how they'd prepare me for dinner.
Heh. Perfect.
And then, just as I came to, I felt an excessive amount of movement. I couldn't comprehend wasn't going on... now that I think of it, all those screams and shouts were for a reason. Then a thunderous crack sounded, and I was knocked out-cold once again.
Look, I can't thank you enough for saving my life.
Reaper 1:...I'm sorry for your losses.
*Marcus remains silent*
Reaper 2:*looks at Reaper 1* You can holster your gun. *turns to Marcus* Look. I guess Fate wouldn't have brought you in front of us only to take you away. But then again, Fate has it's ways of working for us.
*Marcus gets off the floor*
Please. Give me a chance. I know I didn't come all this way for nothing, my life just cannot get any worse than this.... give me a reason to live.
Reaper 1:*chuckles*Well. Sounds to me like this one isn't something for us to decide. Let's take him to our commander, shall we?
As one of Reapers went for his superior officer in meanwhile medic was patching up the survivor. He did not had to wait long, commander was nearby to attend. Reaper was explaining story of Marcus to 'Valkyrie' as he could hear when she was nearby.
'Marcus Vega, Bretonian. Family killed, on the run from law and criminals alike. Reason to carry on you want? Besides wanting to see another day? You sound like you want to join us... without knowing who we are...'
Well, for one thing I assumed they are a part of some sort of 'dark brotherhood' by the way they were dressed... their glistening black cloaks... the symbols on that dark ship. I thought I could have been dazed by the shellshock of being in that pod.
And the dark tone they spoke in... the way he said "i was ready for my time." Only one thing could come to my mind.
'Some people here would slice your throat if given pretext. For your luck, those people are either unavailable to you or answering to myself or other Angel.'
Valkyrie took out data pad, noting few things before breaking uneasy for Marcus silence by continuing talking.
'You have a choice. First option: take a shuttle to Gran Canaria, planet nearby Bretonian border... or second and final one: you can join us if you wish. You will receive place to live, duties and daily rations, including cardamine if you are long-term addicted. It is your call but you can take your time in deciding, being our guest on this station.'
*Marcus proceeds with standing up, off of his knees*
I do not wish to take any more time to decide; I wish to join you, ma'm. I have no use existing on Gran Canaria.... I promise I will be of more use fulfilling my duties here.
My skills may not be the best at the moment.... but I'm know that with training I will become a true fighter of honor. I'll make it my oath to never give up on you.
*He holds a thoughtful look, seeming to remember his past. He suddenly looks up, and smiles*
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