I think the aging starcraft knew as I did that the next time would be our last: that they’d have us—and with us, the Arcturan Protocol. That was the one eventuality I couldn’t accept. I flipped the control yolk over, centered the implacable rock of the asteroid directly in my sights, and in a moment I will gun the thrusters to overdrive. If you are reading this message, please know I did all I could. Long live the Galactic Assembly. [message ends]
