On Board the [AFA] Ze'ev's Yacht

[Zelot]

Ze'ev awoke with a start, everything was a blur, like a dream. The last thing he clearly remembered was the Revenent's call. Getting to his feet, Ze'ev realized he was in the hold of a Mamuru bomber. What he was doing there he had no clue. As he walked up to the cockpit, images began to flash through his mind. The Temple, Pitchfork, Nightsmoke, Glock. He knew what the images were, but he could not figure out how. Sitting down in the pilots chair of the bomber, Ze'ev immedeatly felt at home. He had helped to design this bomber, fleet of foot and able to pack a pucnch was how Ze'ev had first descrbied what he wanted to the designers. Grasping the throttle, more images came to him, his bomber tearing through a wing of Bretonian bombers, then a wing in Liberty, eplosions, deaths, a wave ran through the man. He knew he had done horrible things, he knew that before the call. Ze'ev Barak knew he was a man who had given up morality for reality. Checking his system, Ze'ev found himself in Tau 37, at least 300 K from anywhere. Ze'ev reached for a bottle of water, turning his hand he noticed a scar on his inner forearm, about 6 inches long. He flashed back once more, Glock, cutting into his arm. Shaking his head, Ze'ev set a course for the one place he figured he could hide till he figured everything out, Cape Soya station. Looking at the date Ze'ev was shocked... 3 years..... he wondered if Cape Soya was even there anymore. Although he figured it would be, he also figured the old back door code he had put into the security system would still be working.....

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