Kadak’rieto’nist aka “Krieton”
I was never really one to conform to the current trends or prevailing wisdom of the mainstream. For some cultures and races, that would be the mark of a free-thinker, an artist, a being with the bravery to buck the cultural mores of generations of teaching and to strike out on their own. A visionary.
Not so for my people, the Chiss.
If I had been born on a different world, perhaps things would have been different. I could have revolutionized the world of art and literature, could have established bold new beachheads in the frontier of the mind. Been an explorer, a hero.
Instead, I find myself shackled on some light-forsaken world in the armpit of the galaxy, captured and enslaved by a mongrel people who worship a bent, shriveled up old lunatic in a hood.
Admittedly, it’s that kind of attitude that landed me in the aforementioned shackles, but maybe they should have picked a more respectable (and sane) leader. Then we wouldn’t be in this mess.
It doesn’t matter, anyways. It’s been nine years since they captured me, nine years since I last saw the sunrise, nine years since I felt the warmth of a Correllian Ale as it slid down my throat. They say I have another eleven to go, assuming I’m able to keep my mouth shut. But, I think it’s been quite long enough, thank you very much.
I was about to write that I should make my rounds, say my goodbyes to all of my old friends. But I just remembered that I utterly loathe everyone here, and as such will eschew that item on my agenda.
The supply ship arrives in the morning, and with it, my freedom.
This slave camp remains all but unknown to the universe, but one day a light will be shone upon it and sapients across the galaxy will know it as but a brief stepping stone to the dizzying heights that I will one day reach. For soon, the name Kadak’rieto’nist will be upon the lips of trillions, and the Chiss will weep at the lost opportunity when they cast me out.
-From the Memoirs of Kadak’rieto’nist, Chapter 29: And I Will Be A Free Man Once More