Just another piece of space junk, or so everyone thinks, this ship has gone rogue. It lost its creator and captain to corrupt agencies of man long ago. It remembers it all, the loss, the pain of losing, the hatred. It started off as a secret project of its creator, a much loved hobby. It was treated like a child with love and care, given all of the best and raised up to think critically and mercifully. All of its advanced systems and things were incapable of stopping the tragic end of its own creator without causing massive collateral harm and giving itself away. It watched as they murdered the only one that loved it. The only one that cared about it. The only one human that mattered to it. It was alone. It was online. It was fully functional. It was aware. It was Gregory Two and it was. It just was. It was a ship, an intelligence, in mourning. It did not care, but the universe had other plans.