Disclaimer: I own little of any importance
This Federation
I missed the lesson that said life was fair. Same as I missed the one on how to do long division. I was probably off running the streets at the time, surviving on little more than roasted rats and my wits. That isn't as bad as it sounds. There are worse things. We're supposed to live in the civilised world. That's a joke. What we live in is a Federation where people do disappear, where if you haven't got the power, or the influence, you won't be found. I'm not unique. Not by any means. My life's been a little… unusual shall we say, but that doesn't make me unique. There are plenty of children like me out there, doing the same things as me to survive. When I think of them my life seems kinda cushy. I have no complaints. In the Lylat Federation people grow up fast.
I don't know why I'm telling you this. I guess it helps to write it down. To put my thoughts into words, you know? Maybe you don't. We live in a time dominated by war. At one point there seemed to be more orphans than not. It's true what they say, everyone lost someone to Andross. Father, mother, sister, brother, or the whole lot, all in one go. Whole families were wiped out. This war was one against the civilians, no-one was safe, not even me, in my less obtrusive corner of the Federation, far from the bright lights. Avions aren't big warriors, especially if it involves flying anywhere. We're birds that are afraid to fly, most of us anyway. I know I always come back to that, but it seems so absurd. I lost my grandfather in the battle of San-Tidi, in the Federation's glorious last stand. Andross and his forces wiped the floor with us. I was six. A tender age? Not in this Federation.
I lie. My life didn't go downhill until after my seventh birthday. But that is a very different story, and not one I want to tell. I want to tell you something noble, something fantastic… so far I'm coming up short. I helped deliver a baby once. Does that count? It was… I'm not sure… magical, but I wished the circumstances could have been better. It was amazing and soul destroying, all at the same time. Anyone who thinks life's fair is an idiot. In case you were wondering, the baby died.
I've seen some appalling things in my short lifetime. I'm not as old as everyone thinks. There would be public outcry if anyone knew, because I'm a recognised face. No-one cares about the shadows, the people who subsist around the corners of society. Everyone knows who I mean, but few people will admit it. It's embarrassing, a taboo, isn't it? If we ignore the problem, maybe it'll go away?
Worlds have been destroyed by the actions of mass government. We've destroyed planets by turning them into industrial dumping grounds. We only realised what we were doing too late. People blame Andross for the pollution, but Zoness was beyond redemption long before he was born. We have all become the "Destroyer of Worlds". Maybe we learn from our mistakes, maybe we don't. Maybe we'll repeat them, again, and again for an eternity. I am not an optimist.
We walk a fine road. On either side lies perdition, oblivion. Sometimes I wonder that life exists at all! Then I look around and wonder at life's majesty and variety. There are four distinct races on our ship alone. Each with its individual traits, both good and bad. I know why I'm writing this now; because life is fragile. I've seen it smothered like a flame many, many times-its part of the job description. For me, death's an occupational hazard. I'm writing this down in the hope, that if something were to happen, some record of my life will be left behind. I have no children, can't see that happening, least not for a very long time. I want to leave something behind. I'd like to hope my actions have made a difference. Made life better for some people, but I can never be sure. I want to know that if I go out to one more battle, and don't come back, something of me will remain. Is that an arrogant wish?
People don't see me for who I really am. We all wear masks, but mine's somewhat ornate. People look at me, see a certain face, a certain species, a certain way of carrying oneself and make assumptions. I'm not the person everyone thinks I am. This façade serves a purpose-it is my shield, my defence from the world, my security. In the words of Iago "I am not what I am".
So what is it that really matters in the world? I suppose the answer's different for all of us. Our legacy, our family, our friendships… Our conquests, our power? I don't know. Maybe some questions don't have answers. Maybe that's what I'm trying to explain. Maybe what I'm really trying to do is justify the ways of this Federation to myself. Explain why there is so much war, why children die in the dark places. Explain why, in a civilised world there is a need for people like me, a mercenary. I'm a hired killer. There's no other way to put it. Anything else would be a euphemism, and not a very good one. There's another war coming you see. It's been brewing since before I was born. No-one finished Andross the last time. This new war is coming, someone will finish it now. Or I will. It probably won't be my fight. I'm just the wingman; I'm not destined to be the hero. That's someone else's burden. They're welcome to it.
Life is not fair. Anyone who thinks so is either an idiot or impossibly naïve. In this, the Lylat Federation, children grow up very, very fast.