So there I was, a traitor and a radicalist. I couldn’t stay amongst my people because he’d turned them all against me, and I couldn’t blend in with the crowd because my face was plastered in every station across the sectors. I was isolated. Black-listed. I slipped into a few meetings and listened to the progress of his plan. I stayed in the back, and the few who recognized me stayed quiet out of fear. Even though I was excommunicated, I was still someone to be respected. Only once did my friend spot me before I disappeared into the throng. That was the day I knew that he had to be stopped, through one means or another.