‘Your security status has been lowered’.

The emotionless, disembodied, female voice made the announcement without judgement. It was a statement; a declaration. As was the viscera and pod goo quickly crystallising and reflecting the cold light of dispassionate stars amidst the hissing and glowing ship wreckage.

The murderer drifted peacefully in his own pod, encased in relative safety within his frigate. He related to the announcement; took satisfaction in it, as he did in the dichotomy of sensory deprivation and extreme violence.

No challenge here, nothing to test his martial prowess and piloting skill. But that didn’t matter. The end justifies the means.

He once sought admiration and respect, testing himself against unlikely odds, striving to improve, to evolve, adhering to a self-imposed code. But these are just shades of grey, the attempts of a small, organic mind to apply rationale and order to the irrational and chaotic.

But he understood now.

The universe is impersonal and hostile. There is black and white; life and death, existence and non-existence.

The murderer killed because he could, destroyed because he could, because he was worthy; he was stronger. This was fitting and right. When he in turn is destroyed it is because he is unworthy and found wanting; because he wasn’t strong enough or smart enough. This too was fitting and right.

Assured in this knowledge he refocused his camera drones and scooped the remains of his fallen adversary into his cargo hold. Responding to a thought, his ship performed a wide-range scan. The murderer noted with fatalistic pleasure that another ship was nearby. In an instant he was in-warp, his ship’s modules overheated and primed.

Existence is the struggle to exist.



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