Entry Number Three.

Right now I am sitting on a transport, waiting for it to lift me up to the ISS Washington; a space station hovering over the mid Atlantic Ocean, tethered to the planet by a space elevator. The entire structure resembled a giant screw. From the ground though, depending on where you were, it was just second moon. Why wasn't I taking the elevator? I have a felony on my record, I wasn't allowed. Once aboard The Washington I will transfer to a shuttle and be on my way to the IMG-SS Cathedral; the space station owned by the Mercenaries Guild which resided over Bangalore, India. Its space elevator was still under construction. Smaller than the Washington, but still huge, huge enough to house ships and thousands of occupants. It was true to its name, covered in spires and gargoyles, ornate carvings in the metal. This furthered the image that the Guild had been here a long time.

The Guild was one of the oldest organizations on the planet. Dating back to the French revolution in ancient Europe. They were a secret until the Second American Revolution in 2029, when they made themselves known. They had leaks of course, secrets don't keep well as they grow in size. They have been called by many names. The Illuminati being one of the most common. The war of purification, as its been called for as long as I can remember, was a bloody war, but without the guild's help, the american people would never have found liberty from the corruption that was plaguing the country. They were pivotal in their role in World War Three, the war almost went full scale nuclear. If it weren't for the specially skilled soldiers the guild trained, the planet would be nothing but dust. They sent strike teams to take out the silos, silos on both sides mind you. But they couldn't take chances, they had to do what was right for the human race, and the planet as a whole.

I personally thank them for allowing me to even be born. We could have wiped ourselves out in that war. I've heard a lot about that war, billions dead, even more left homeless and starving. Just so the planet could be one? Under one flag? Its a heavy price to pay for a United Planet. Its been almost 100 years since the last full scale war and the Unification allowed us to finally start colonizing other worlds. Still hard to think of the losses as worth it.

My father, who I left back at the terminal, was a huge history buff. So good at remembering dates and names, events and places. Even better at pointing out the significant moments of the past. He never took the time to really get to know me though. To this day, as I look back at the ground getting farther and farther away from me. I know that he didn't really know his own son. I was always a momma's boy anyways. She's probably crying her eyes out in the car now. I left them not on the best terms, they were begging me not to get on the shuttle. Saying that I could die out there.

All I could say was. "We all die someday, this is my chance to die doing what's right."

"Promise me you wont take missons that could harm innocents." My mom, finally relenting.

"You know I could never do that." She kissed me on the cheek and gave me what seemed to be the longest hug of my life. It was like she expected to never see me again. My Dad, looked at me, though he felt scorned by my choice, he was proud. He shook my hand. The only thing he said was. "Fight the good fight son, and if I find out you killed Terran Marines, I'll kill you myself." He said it with a jocular tone, but If he really found out I had killed Terran military, some part of me wouldn't put it past him to at least shoot me in the foot. Fighting off this thought, I laughed with him. After standing there with their eyes on me for a few minutes. The terminal dinged and announced that my shuttle was boarding.

"I'll miss you," was the last thing I heard my dear mother say before I smiled, grabbed my bags, and strolled to the docking platform.

Clearing the atmosphere now. It's a beautiful sight, my first time in space. They said there may be nausea as the artificial gravity kicked on and for me at least, there was none. As I look around the cabin I see that I wasn't the only one that lucked out. To be polite I turned away from the person next to me, who wasn't doing so well with the switch. Looking out the window again, I can see the Washington cresting over the horizon. Its only a matter of minutes till I transfer. And I probably look kinda silly typing at the air. Only I can see the keys. I should put my laptop away, I don't know why they call it a laptop, probably just a name given for nostalgia purposes. Besides, "Wrist Top" doesn't have the same ring to it.

LOG END EARTHDATE 2218 December 28th

Entry Number Two.

My parents weren't sure what to do about my continued education. A normal college was out of the question. I begged them to let me go to the state school, to be around normal kids. They didn't want to risk another episode. I asked them about ways to get around it, hire someone to follow me around, keep me under control. Telling them Id learn how to control it on my own was a no go. No matter how I tried I wasn't going to a normal school. The military wasn't an option ether, they wouldn't take me because of this thing inside me. That and the manslaughter charge on my record.

We looked for anything. Months went by and it was looking like I might not even be able to find work. No body would hire someone like me. Most people with these "gifts" are not looked on as being human, or even treated like one. There is a lot of prejudice towards us. But I had to keep trying. My life couldn't just stop because of a physical abnormality that made me potentially violent. I can understand, what company or service would want an employee that could kill its patrons?

That was when we got the call. It was my mother that picked up the phone. It was an organization known for having no prejudice towards people like me, or anyone for that matter. It was the International Mercenaries Guild based in, or I should say over Bangalore, India. They were up front with all the details. They told my mother that a team known as Black Halo was looking for a new team member. The guild was offering to pay for the travel and training in exchange for 5 years of service with them. They knew about the trouble we were having with getting my life in order and mentioned that many people like me end up in their organization. Being a soldier of fortune? That's not one of the things I was thinking I could do. Kill for money?

My father was totally against it. My brother being a marine, and my dad having been in the planetary guard all his life. He hated Mercs, he told me they screw with military operations and switch sides more often than a person has to buy shoes. But the military wouldn't take me. I was out of options.

I couldn't let the opportunity pass me by, I might not get another chance to be something other than a boy who killed some older boys in his home town. If the guild had worked with people like me before, they might know how to teach me to control it, or at least live a normal life. If I can learn to use this to help people. Maybe I can find some reason for breathing.

LOG END EARTHDATE 2218 August 12th