Of Stars and Murder

Everywhere stars. Heavenly spheres contained in their self-constructed prisons of immense gravitation. Like pure ideas so hefty their own immense weight is all that contains them but do so effortlessly and nearly flawlessly. These stars are like ideas, bright and immense but constrained, burning at the edge of consciousness, only marvelous at a distance, mundane in proximity. Still, get too close and they consume you. They suppress their own fury organically. One such idea tugs at me now, mercilessly. We are all murderers. We kill tirelessly. The worst part is that we are numb to this death because we fight others as unkillable as ourselves and seldom tally those unfortunate mortals that perish while the capsuleer is born anew. The true murder is the murder of an idea: the commensurate weight of a human life. These mortals, these humans, are somehow less weighty than the infomorph. The importance of the human is now a brown swarf, exhausted and muted, dwindling into nothingness. The death of ideas may one day leave the universe bereft of starry ideas, an infinite moral darkness, no light to steer by. Void.

Leaping Ahead

The years since the orphanage had blown by, and Commander Krennel, now 33 years old, had been forged into a full-fledged mercenary warrior. He was hardly famous, but in the world of the HSG, he was one step removed from the boss, the XO, the right hand of Titus Haijikioten. The fact that his feelings for the old murderous bastard switched from filial love to intense seething hatred from day to day was lost on no one. Titus was aware of it, and it pained him, but was tragically part and parcel of life on a ship whose missions ran along the border between paramilitary operations and outright piracy. Titus trued to stay legitimate in his business dealings, but he had a lot of personnel to pay. When the State was peaceful, he had to resort to less legitimate business to keep his company afloat. The Megacorps tended to recognize this reality, and so long as these activities didn't threaten their interests, so be it. Titus maintained good relations with Home Guard and Spacelane Patrol, and had friendly contacts in Ishukone, and routinely did business with all three.
Ryven was beginning to grow ambitious. Titus could see it in his eyes. He knew the young man was always after something better. Titus began forming a plan. Ryven was the last of the Haijikioten family, and seemed unlikely to settle down. Titus, being exceptionally wealthy, had the finances to help Ryven to become a capsuleer. If Ryven, a physically pristine specimen, were to apply, he would be almost certainly accepted. Titus knew he would die sooner or later, but probably sooner. He wasn't getting any younger. He began recording a message.

Donning the Mantle

I have been promoted. I have only been a part of this holy crusade for a few months, but the Knighthood has graced me with the mantle of knighthood. I am now beknighted. I admit that I hope I am worthy. I am still striving to forge myself into a warrior of holy God, the fist of His Empire, a servant of His Empress. This is a new way of life for me, and it is often at odds with my past life. My fellow Knights continue to help to guide me on my path. I have even managed to be granted the rank of Imperatus Commander by the militia. Ryven's star is on the rise, it would seem. I must continually dedicate myself to the cause, to the defense of the Empire, and the Reclaiming.