There was a time long ago that I considered myself human, when I had a family and a normal life. But when the revolution started twenty-odd years ago, I was left with almost nothing.
I wanted life to have meaning, to somehow prove myself to the ashes of my father, so I joined the National Border Police. The skills that I had learned while in the Federal Bureau of Investigation became useful to them. I became a commissioned officer, working to eliminate rebel factions in the dangerous fringes around the slowly-expanding national border.
But just yesterday I was given a new assignment under the Secret Service. I was told it could be an important move in the ongoing war against the European Union. In fact, if I was successful, I would be given a medal, a promotion, and a generous pension when I reached retirement age.
My small vessel was custom-built to resemble a Union satellite, allowing me to escape the notice of the enemy’s border police. When I reached the Lenore, the special airlock latched to the side of the ship, drilling a hole into the hull, which then was sealed again, using the front of my ship, after I stepped inside. Save that one area, the rest of my ship broke into pieces, then disintegrated into dust. It would appear to observers that a satellite had lost its orbit and crossed paths with the station.