-These audio logs can be accessed through Arans wrist pad or on a private (encrypted) network broadcasted by his ship- *Cue audio, the man would speak with a fading southern accent* Hey, this thing on? Yeah? Cool. *The ambient noise of a star-ship fills the background as he talks, the man would clear his throat a few times before continuing* Caaaptain's journal, entry one... Star date uhhhhh... *The man's voice would get quieter as he muttered* Fuck, what is the star date? Gotta lay off the booze... So... Fuck. Never really have recorded myself before, never really got the point of it until one of my former partners told me it helped them keep track of what the hell they were stealing. I told him it was stupid because in all reality this is just incriminating evidence fuckin' waaaaiting to be found. He told me to fuck off and try pulling off more than one job at a time, then he'd be laughin'. Fucker thinks he's a badass just because he can steal candy from a baby and pick its mothers purse at the same time? Fuckin' shit-head. So yeah, here I am in this glorified shit-hole of a galaxy aptly named Antares. Where the women are prudes, the booze flows, and where law has tried time and time again to rise and take reigns over the wild stallion that is civilization on this chaotic frontier... only to fail. *He would chuckle* My kind of galaxy, minus the prudish woman. Back on topic, I'm here to find my next score. I've got people thinkin' I'm some sort of graverobber/Archeologist. Hell, I guess some people even think I'm a bartender at this point. And while the former two aren't too far off from the truth, it still doesn't come off as bad as to how I really make my living. Let's start off with a little history lesson, if I'm goin' to incriminate the fuck out of myself by makin' this thing, I might as well share the whole story, yeah? Cool. My name is Aran, Aran Silver, grade A narcissist and on my way to becomin' a master thief. I was born in the non-existent galaxy of who-the-fuck-knows. First memory I have is a table of some bald dudes exchangin' money, shufflin' cards, gamblin' basically. Well. Not basically, that's exactly what the fuck they were doin'. Either way, they were gamblin' and for some fuckin' reason I was the prize. Obviously I wasn't told that little tid-bit until later in life. Who knows what they would've done to me or why I was even there, but if one of 'em had won me... Luckily before that could go down I was rescued... Well stolen. And that, ladies and gentleman or any others who might be listening to this, is how I met my mentor, Nara Silver. If it's not already fuckin' apparent, and it really is, that's how I got my name. She kidnapped me when I was four, by that time I managed to learn a smidgeon of English. First thing she asked me after I awoke from whatever drug she used to put me under was what my name was. *His voice would choke a little* I don't actually remember this part but she told me I just shrugged and started crying because I didn't have a name... *The recorder goes silent for a minute, nothing registering but ambient noise* Fuck this, Aran Silver, signing out. *With a click the recording ceases*
*The recorder would kick on, Arans voice would start off ranting angrily* Nara would kill me. There is a pretty fuckin' easy method developed through thousands of years by master thieves on how to infiltrate a group and steal (Insert valuable item here.) And I fucked up the very first step. *The recorder would pick up the thudding steps of Arans pacing back and forth* When you start off, first thing, THE FUCKIN' VERY FIRST THING... Fuck, the first thing you do is find out who the leader is. Easy as that. Welp, apparently not, because I fuuuuuucked it up! I thought I'd kill two birdies with one stone, join the security force of Asani and get all the perks that goes with it. Security clearances, access to any cameras, information, etc. And get on Omens good side, who I had originally thought was the fuckin' leader of the Armored Fellowship. WELL FUCK IF I COULDNT HAVE BEEN MORE WRONG! Her name is Griss, she's the leader of Asanis shit security force, leader of the Armored Fellowship, and according to Pandora she's the "sweetest person in the world!" Unless that world is called Planet Serious-fuck, then I seeeeeeriously doubt that claim. So yeah, here I am talkin' out of my ass trying to sound like a genuinely nice person to Griss, who I was led to believe was a sweet person despite her intimidating presence, tryin' to join the fuckin' Power Rangers of Asani. Well I'm shit at interviews, I learned that much at least. Really, it was a one step forward twenty thousand steps back sort of deal. She saw through me alright, oh fuckin' boy, she saw right the fuck through me. The key to lying is mixing in some truth with the lie, a half-truth even. I told her I wanted to join her Security team so that I could join the Fellowship so that I could get closer with... Fuck, I don't even want to say her name right now, she'll probably get wind of this real soon. Either way, Griss was havin' noooooone of that. Having seen Asanis security force in action, man I'm surprised she didn't hire me on the spot. Guessing she saw straight through my bullshit and stared into my soul, because now I'm on her bad side. And I don't mean treadin' on the line between Apathy and hatred. I mean she was glarin' daggers at me, shit, the very thought of me probably puts her panties in a bunch now. Well, hope she doesn't die, kind of just left her and a couple other vigilantes to sort out some robbery ordeal. I should consider myself lucky, if she had hired me I would have had to actually deal with that fuckin' mess. Grenades, gunshots, and a whole lot of close quarters combat from the sounds I heard. Yeeeeaaaah, definitely not somethin' I would run towards if I had a choice. *His voice becomes a lot calmer* Yeah, I'll find another way in, this is just a minor setback. A real fuckin' huge minor setback, but a minor one nonetheless. Aran Silver, signing out. *Cease recording*
*Audio cuts in and out before stabilizing* Well shit... I just got out of prison. Little backstory since I know it's been awhile since my last time tinkering with this shitty recorder. So, soon as the Blackleafs-vines-flowers- or whatever the fuck they're called attacked Asani, I decided to bail out of Antares for a while. Shit was hittin' the fan down there, and when shit starts hittin' the fan I start running. In hindsight, I might've been better off stickin' around. Not five light-years I got before bein' intercepted by some pirate douche-holes. I made friendly with 'em soon enough, they even took me in as one of their own... at the cost of my ship and belongings. Fucker. *Arans voice would take on a mocking tone" "What's one of ours is all of ours!" What a bunch of shit. Long story short, there was some sort of Mole in their ranks, First Mate actually. The look on the poor Captain's face as his self-appointed right-hand man declared himself as "Lt. Matthew Conway of the U-S-C-Motherfuckin'-M." And I ain't paraphrasin' either, that right there is word-for-word how he addressed himself. The crew got split up, come to think of it I don't think any of them ended up where I did. They called it Claustrum, Latin for prison, the head-guard made sure we knew that as soon as we were dropped off. *Aran would begin to yawn* I don't want to bore you with the details, but it ended up with me stealing the prisons records to find out where they docked my ship, sleeping with the Wardens daughter, and escapin' during the middle of a riot incited by lack of mashed potatoes... Man, I got a lucky break with that one. Noooow here I am, back to finish what I started! What that was I'm not entirely sure, but hey, I'm looking forward to finding out! I'm goin' to be serious about it this time around. Shit, I even have some semblance of a plan. First things first I need to find out if there is anything even worth stealing from Asani or the Fellowship, then I'll proceed from there. Yeah, sounds fun. Aran Silver, signing out. *Cease recording*
