Diary of Septimus Carter
4523.270
Today Master Zaxo generously offered me to the First Prometheans as a gift. The First Prometheans accepted and right away granted me my freedom. They asked me if I wished to continue traveling with them. As my predominant programming has been to serve them, and they have honorably granted me my liberty, I felt somewhat compelled to continue in their service.
These sudden events appear to have affected my programming. My lack of initiative, for example, appears to no longer be an issue, as evidence by this diary: biological constructs such as myself as often forbidden by programming from keeping private personal records. The keeping of secrets is anathema to trustworthy service. It seems remarkable to me that I would even concoct the notion of keeping a private journal. Yet upon returning to our quarters aboard the Prosperity, I found myself with no activity with which to occupy myself. After some consideration of the numerous entertainment choices, my mind struck upon the idea of recording my thoughts. At first I attempt to do so verbally, but found this vaguely unsettling as if I was speaking to myself, which is said to be a sign of mental instability (and an activity usually not permitted to human biological constructs). It felt more comfortable when I began to use a datapad to silently write my thoughts and store them in computer memory. I believe this compulsion to record my thoughts to be a remnant of the engrams recorded from the original host many centuries past.
Another surprising development is that my interaction with one of the First Prometheans, Lisa Chan, appears to have activated within my mind a previously unknown set of memory engrams. As I interacted with Ms. Chan, I began to “remember” past conversations and experiences with her. While I had read of Ms. Chan in the Promethean archive, I had not studied her in the detail suggested by these memories. These partial recollections are likely more vestigial memories of the original host. By interviewing Ms. Chan, I was able to confirm some facts and fill in missing pieces of information. Should she be allowed to examine the archives herself, she will no doubt prove useful in recovering much of the lost history of the Prometheans.
The First Prometheans are an eclectic bunch, which is I suppose to be expected for magicians. But they possess a certain quality, a hardness I had not expected. This is no doubt due to their previous experiences with the Cabal, a vicious and powerful opponent known to drive their enemies mad before destroying them. The two males, Ambrose and Doolish, are like characters from a story-book, fierce and able warriors who possess a talent for magery. Both are also knowledgeable men, and not the violent, ignorant savages our scant knowledge of ancient Earth history suggests of human males.
Our visit to Lungold and Master Zaxo was quite brief, but the First Prometheans got a taste of life in this time. I hope they are able to adjust to what must be unimaginable differences. They all say they are accustomed to strangeness and radical changes, but something tells me they have little idea what is ahead of them.
Another of my decisions: I have chosen a new name for myself, to reflect not only my individuality but also my ancestry. I have chosen to continue the use of "Carter" as my surname, and to adopt the Latin word designated the seventh-born, Septimus. From this day forward, I will be known as Septimus Carter.
4523.377
We arrived at Corporate Center, where the ship constructed with Promethean funds should have been waiting for us. Instead we were surprised to find the person responsible for the construction of the ship was under house arrest for embezzlement of corporate funds. The crew accepted this with aplomb, as if theft and embezzlement were everyday things to them. Perhaps in their times it was so, and I have heard before that the Corporate sector is rife with corruption. But I always assumed that was the typical rumor one encounters in the Phoenix Domain. It seems however that Harold Wexler, the Promethean contact at TTL, was quite creative in the management of his projects, particularly their funding. While I was taken aback by the brashness of Wexler’s confession to “creative accounting,” the others seemed to accept his explanations. Perhaps their ire was mitigated by the fact that Wexler had indeed procured a vessel for our usage, one that conformed to most of the specifications requested. Having learned the appropriate skills in the Dream Teacher, the crew was more than ready to take flight. However, there were a number of bureaucratic fees and other financial matters to address. This left the corporate account, which had already been drained by Wexler, with little more than $1M, scarcely enough to launch and operate a vessel of this type. However, this fact seemed insubstantial to the crew, particularly Ambrose, who dedicated himself to learning the vagaries of the speculative cargo trade. Lisa decided to focus her attentions on acquiring passengers (and later seeing to their needs). Doolish, who has taken to calling himself “Captain Mike Lee,” has emerged as the leader of the group, if only because he can fly the ship. I’ve assigned myself to medical duties and assisting Lisa with passengers (as it is my training to serve others). We’ve taken on one additional crew member, at least temporarily: a young woman from the freighter Prosperity, who took personal leave to join us. She is a well-trained system surveyor who was stuck in quite dull and laborious duties aboard the freighter. She also appears to have a romantic attachment to Captain Mike. Our first set of passengers consisted of the two SciMinders we met aboard the Prosperity, and five engineers who also had an assortment of gear. The engineers were coincidentally headed for Regalia, where they are engaged in some exploratory hydrological work. Apparently there is a race for water on Regalia, a world which is targeted by the Federation for development and expansion. Due to the low funds, Lisa and Doolish convinced Ambrose to delay his foray into speculative trade, taking on a simple freight shipment instead. Ambrose objected and pointed out the best use of low funds was an investment that could yield so much more. His argument did not prevail with our two more conservative companions. Myself, I agreed with Ambrose, though I did not think it wise to speak out. My place among this crew is not yet certain, and as a newly freed individual, I may want to keep my options open.
4523.037
Well, we certainly had an interesting visit to Regalia. What we thought would be a simple visit to the SciMinder world turned into a hostage negotiation and rescue. We dropped out of hyperspace to find ourselves facing a Federation patrol vessel, insisting they come aboard and inspect our ship. We did not resist, of course, as we certainly had nothing to hide. The patrol was interested in the SciMinders and took them for questioning, along with our captain. Apparently a Federation survey ship crashed in the desert several days ago. The SciMinders are very sensitive about their desert, especially the location of their secret temple. Some of their people decided the Federation was trying to find that temple, and took the survivors of the crash as hostages. After some failed negotiation, the hostage-takers refused any further contact with Federation officials and insisted on outside negotiators. The patrol captain decided to send our crew to the planet as the negotiating team. It turned out the survey ship did have spies aboard, though most of the crew was innocent of any wrongdoing. Lisa and Doolish successfully negotiated the release of the hostages by agreeing to make public the fact that the Federation spies on its own members. We hastily made our way to Byte by way of Bannar, where Ambrose “made a killing” in trade. Arriving at Byte we successfully convinced a washed-up alcoholic Galaxy News reporter named Abercrombie Mulcahy to investigate the story. Now we have finally begun our journey to the Stronti system, where we will pick up the mana reactor and I will finally meet the woman who programmed me.