Unknown Survivor of Freeport 7

As I Docked with Freeport 7 I would have never imagined the events that were to take place in the next few weeks.
As I climbed out of the Civilian Transport that had docked with Freeport 7 I wondered what this base had to offer. First thing upon entering Freeport 7, I headed towards the bar for a few brews & small talk with the locals. After a few hours in the bar I went to The Head to relieve the brews that were churning in my stomach. While I was in The Head I overheard one of the people in the bar talking about good bribes in the hangar area. After I picked up a pack of smokes & some matches I headed out to see about these bribes. As I entered the hangar I saw some pilot arguing with the police as to the contents of his cargo…probably smuggling something thru systems I suppose.
While I was conversing in the hangar the Emergency Evacuation Alarm System started to klaxon throughout the base! As everyone panicked I scrambled my brain for an escape strategy. I remembered from back in pilot school that some bases still put escape pods in their Trash Dumps. I immediately ran towards the Trash Dump pushing and shoving people out of my way. I tried the doors but they were stuck, luckily I found a broken rod that fit in the door. After a minute or so I got the door open & hurried into the Dump.
I scanned the pile of trash & locked my eyes on the only escape pod there half way buried under shards of scrap metal. Having no choice of the matter I climbed up the metal trash pile cutting my hands and arms up very badly. I lost my footing about half way up the pile & got a large shard of metal stuck 2 inches above my knee. Disregarding my leg I continued up the pile shredding my hands at this point. As I pulled myself into the escape pod I made sure the doors were sealed shut and the shield was active. As I sit like a sardine in a tin can I wondered if the Trash Dump Protocols were in enabled. (If one pays attention in Pilot School we learned that bases have a protocol for their trash dumps that eject the dump before base explosion)
The Protocol Computer Program took effect and I was jettisoned out with the trash. The base exploded right after…breaking my thrusters. So there I was drifting in a trash heap in the vastness of space, no hope for a way out of here, no food or water. The first few days were…bearable…at least I think it was days. Sometime in that forsaken pod I lost the fight and got the hunger. I started to claw at my face with my shredded hands gnawing out my left eye shoving the flesh in my mouth...choking it down. After that I went crazy…some call it space madness. Large gaps of my memory were gone probably associated with the state I was in.
As I lay in my pod dreaming for a sweet release from this place…drifting in and out of consciousness...I remembered seeing a tractor beam attach to my pod and I wondered if I was saved or dead. I came to in his ship being probed by the medical machines. They wanted to give me a leg transplant as my injury had given me an infection. The same went for my hands…infected. They also wanted to give me an organic robotic eye. I refused all transplants despite their medical force. They stitched me up & I got a pair of shades to cover my eye hole, as my face was scarred all down the left side from the clawing. The man introduced himself as Rogaan; he helped me get back into space again. Also pointing me in the direction of a good ship. I see my head doctor once every month and it’s been helping with the frenzied state…no I won’t lie…its not helping…but it’s the thought that counts for me.

Ever since I’ve been flying with Rogaan. As my doctor said in our last session “maybe being a killer will help with the episodes” it’s a theory of his.
B.F.A.M.