Lee's Diary - Pilot of The Narcotic

[Narcotic]

Date: 21 May 819
System: Omicron Alpha
Location: Planet Malta, Meteora Bar
Topic: Backstory - Life on Malta

When looking back to the past. My childhood, the young days. I do see darkness, mixed with a bit Orange and a green flare. Es verdad, that I don't really have that many memories from that time. But I can remember, that people were talking about the 'Orange Dream'. In my opinion, it was the "Orange Nightmare"!

I've always been different. I wasn't like the other childs, listening to their parents, what is good for them, and what isn't. I had my own vision of the situation. I've been thirsty for knowledge, I wanted to know everything: "From where did we came from?", "Why do we never leave Malta? I do want explore systems!", "¡Papá, I don't like to drink that water, it's polluted!". It wasn't normal for a child in that age. My parents worried about me. But whilst my friends were playing in the orange Cardamine fields, I ate one Holo-Book after the other. "Sleeper ships, Hispania, Cardamine, DNA alteration, Corsairs". I slowly began to understand what was actually happening with us.

They all knew it. I felt like being in prison. Malta was my prison. But what could I have done? I've been just fourteen at that point. I didn't finished my education yet. Si claro, I went to a military school. Not many maltese children had this privilege to get such a qualitative and, most notably expensive training. However, my parents where both soldiers of the primary maltese fleet. And we lived in luxury. I've been an only child and they wanted all the best for me. I hated them for being 'Killers', I abhor violence. Ever did for some reason. Although it was the most well-respected work you could get as Maltesian. And I wouldn't have gone to that school, if I didn't wanted to.

That wish of becoming a soldier grew extremely, at that time when my father got back home all alone. He was totally distressed and downfallen when he spoke to me: "Mí­ hijo, we need to be strong now. Your well beloved mother has gone from us...". After those words, I fell into a deep sadness. Everything around me fell apart. I didn't heard, what my father was telling me. I just heard words like "Corsairs", "ambush" and "Omicron Eta". I wished I could have ran away. But to where? There was only Malta. I noticed how the cross bars of my imaginary prison got tighter.

That happened when I was still fifteen.

The never-ending war against the Corsairs.