User:Vargas
I was born into a poor family who lived in a mining colony on Vulcan. My father and mother both slaved in the mines for our regions governor, he was nothing but a UNCA puppet taking advantage of his position to live in luxury while we starved. I began hating that man from as long as I can remember. He was the reason I worked in the iron mines before I could walk, he was the reason I counted the days since I last ate, and he was the reason my parents died so early in my life.
Both of my parents fell ill and died from Silicosis. I was 7 when they died so I was sent to the colonies orphanage which was run-down, under staffed, and over filled with children from all over the colony. Every two week men from the mines would come to the orphanage and take the oldest children to the mines so that they may meet the same fate as their parents. I had enough sense to not stick around at the orphanage and instead began scraping an existence by begging and scavenging food. I would spend night after night unable to sleep due to my hunger. Eventually I could not bare it any more so I ran the risk of trying to steal from the colony market.
The market was laid out in a circle near the landing area in the centre of the colony, where cargo ships landed to collect ore, and was busy all day long. Due to the landing area a bunch of bastard UNCA guards patrolled and guarded the area to make sure shipments left the colony without incident and would often linger in the market area. A meat stall was my target. It was not the busiest of stalls as the meat was expensive but I did not intend to eat what I stole. Instead use it to try and barter for more food from other colonists. But being starved was my downfall. My desperation for food shut off my brain and the prospect of eating consumed my mind. I had watched the stall from behind a grain stall which was about a quarter away around the circle from the meat stall. I waited until the crowed thinned and I had a clear dash to the display of synthesized beef, pork, and chicken. When I saw a path a sprung from my lurking place and darted for a half-eaten cut of beef.
I never even got to touch the beef. I was beating down by one of two guards who had seen me running across the market. That bastard and his bastard friend gave me boot and stick as if I'd managed to steal the entire market. After a time they picked me upped and dragged me to the landing area where I was loaded on the first cargo ship and sent to a UNCA outpost where I would be transferred to a labour camp.
Upon arriving at the UNCA outpost my fingerprints were taken along with a blood sample, I was then given a UNCA penal system number. I was then removed from the queue of people to be placed in a cell. After a few hours two men accompanied by a guard came into my cell. They told me I was to be taken for further testing due to my blood results. I said nothing during the entire time they talked to me. When one of the men reached towards me to take my arm I grabbed his hand and beat down as hard as I could. The guard gave me a couple of swift blows before ushering the two men out of the cell and locking me in.
The next day I was taken to a white room with a large neural scanning machine and after minutes of me kicking, thrashing and lashing out they managed to strap my arms and legs to the table. The machine began its whirring and 10 minutes later, after the process had finished, I was removed from the machine and thrown back into the cell. After a few hours the cell opened and I was taken to a ship that had no other people on it, only bastard UNCA scum.
As it turned out I had something rare about me, very rare. My neural patterns were in such a way that I was able to interface with spacecraft. I was sent to an academy where I spent my early teen years being taught everything there was to know about. The history of the human race, politics, engineering, leadership, and of course piloting space craft were some of the main subjects that were drilled into me. While I began the academy with a hate for the UNCA I left with with something more. I had a passionate loathing for everything about the UNCA, but I now also had the ability to destroy it and what it stands for.
Since my early adulthood I have worked, and continued to work, towards a new republic free of the UNCA oppressors.
