Another short tale from my 3rd Year at Imperial Acadamy Deepari.
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The stars twinkled, I'm not sure why, they said something about it in astronamy class they shouldn't twinkle but something in our mind remained from our evolution planetside that made them twinkle. Occasionally they were occulded by the large bulks of rock slowly tumbling through the void. I could watch this spectacle for days, indeed I would spend hours alone in one of the Acadamies observation rooms just staring into the nothingness. However, now was not the time for it, I dragged my eyes back to the control panel before me, a simple short range scanner, comns equipment and the fire control panel, far simpler than even a frigates controls, it was a Templar, A fightercraft usually used by the Imperial Amarrian carriers, it was a joy to fly, a single pilot could warp around a system, a handful for any frigate in a dogfight, although it could not access the gate travel network and was too small to fit a pod system. These aspects however made it a perfect training craft for new, not as of yet pod capable, pilots.
In the last few weeks since the survival exam, I had been floating high on my own fortunes, we had begun real flight training, although we still visited the VR decks for larger ship training, the physical feel of being in command of a ship was a rush. On top of this, Markus and I had still been going steady since our little escapade, evading detection from the Abbots and other students, catching brief moments together, shocking ourselves with the outlandish places we would meetup for little more than a moment in each others arms. Even my academic situation had improved, the subjects covered this year had suited me, reduced emphasis on theological guidance, we were assumed to be pure of mind by now, heh heh.
So here I lay, commanding a wing of 3 Templars, peering into my scanner scope for the first ping registering the immenant arrival of hostiles. A crakle of static preceded the voice of one of my wingmen, "I got a hazy contact coming in hot high on bearing 035", "good spot Markus, Flight, up to speed, bearing 035 high, spread to delta formation" we had somehow managed to wrangle ourselves onto the same flight, a feat helped by the fact that we worked well together.
A new twinkle appeared in the darkness, slowly, then more rapidly it grew, split into 4, then became a streak of colour, my scanner flashing up its assessments of ship class, expected arnaments, and possible stratagies. Blood Raiders, my very skin crawled at the mention of the name, if the Acadamy's lectures on the subject hadn't been enough the tales I had been told as a child back home, and the very real threat they posed to outlying planets were sufficiant to the task. A destroyer escorted by 3 frigates, it was a larger contingant than we were expecting, but it should be possible.
"Burners, dont fly at them, keep your angles high, lock and orbit the dessie, it is primary," rolling my templar I doubled back on my previous tack, the 2 other templars in their own weaving paths avoiding the murderous beams of energy flashing across the void. The 3 Blood frigates begin their own charge towards us in an attempt to keep us from closing on the destroyer. Still at range from the flagship, the two squads crossed, twisting in my harness I saw stasis webs reach out, entangling one of the templars in strands of energy stopping it dead in the water, energy neutralisers swiftly followed by the sharp crack of pulse lasers. "Arggh, I'm primary, shields dropping fast" squealed the voice of my second wingman, Kalos, an older Amarrian had excelled in the classroom, but paniced easially in combat, as he was now. "Calm down, your strength is in armour, Markus peel off take care of those frigs, I will take the dessie, catch me if you can."
Markus flipped his ship end over end, a blast of burners killing off his velocity and sending him back towards the immobile templar, already re-calibrating his systems and taking longrange potshots at the orbiting Bloodships, I rolled again, and continued accelerating into another tack racing against the destroyers tracking system. Entering the destroyers optimal range, I tightened my turns, cutting it closer and closer, the onboard computer blaring danger alarms at me, beams of energy flashing beneith my wings, the odd one striking a shield and prisming off into a miryad of colours, harmlessly absorbed. "Got a fire solution .... lining it up ... boom, scratch one leach" the chirpy voice of Markus goading me with his early success, "I'm dead in the water, my ship has shut down, no cap, shields going, get them off meeee," "Kalos you are fine, Markus is clearing them, stop disrupting the comns, I have almost reached the dessie"
Clearing thoughts of the battle behind me, I concentrated back on the destroyer, A tough target, if I could get a tight enough orbit I shouldn't have to worry about incoming too much, its just whether I could get enough hits to overcome its defences. Pulling in close enough to see the mottled red, what I hoped was camoflage, I set my pulse lasers to eating away at its shielding. Flashes of pure white reflecting off both hulls, the rippling effect of the energy absorbing into the shield mear centimeters above the armour plating. I feel at times I can see through the narrow viewports, into the bridge of the vessel to see scuttling crewmembers, dressed as barbarians from an ancient time, of course I cannot, the blast screens would have been closed up long ago, relying solely on sensor readings, watching the thin electromagnitic defences thin under my constant fire.
"Boom, there goes number two" Markus seemed to be getting all the fun this time, "the third is disengaging, headed back up to you Evil, watch your back", "Roger Markus, persue and dispatch at your lesure, Kalos, how are your systems?", "still empty, but recharging, I will be back with you soon", "Roger flight, destroyer recieving armour damage, theres only one way this is going now."
The once smooth hull of the destroyer now showed deep gashes, glowing ruby red against the cold backdrop, small volcanos of atmosphere or crystals of flash frozen fluids erupt from unprotected compartments. Shimmering greenish clouds of nanite bots flow across the hull, trying ineffectually to keep up with each new barrage of fire raining down, the ship is slowling giving up its grip on life.
My computer detects a weakening in the armour around one of the engine pods, I quickly focus the next volly onto the area. The thinning plates put up an initial resistance then buckle, unable to standup to the assault thin metal boiling and tears admitting the beams into the interior, atmosphere instantly vaporising and erupting into the void in a jet of plasma, the pod buckles, then bursts open spilling the engines radioactive fire and debris into space. "Shes going down, Markus you got a few seconds if you want in on this one, get your arse moving"
Almost as soon as I had spoken, the fight changed. I noticed the signals from the destroyer had changed, I was no longer its primary concern, all its turrets lined up, aiming back down towards the other two templars, a flash of deep orange light, 8 seperate beams of energy converged some tens of kilometers behind me, twisting in my seat, I strained to see back over my shoulder.
The point of light had struck the templar at the base of its port wing stub, and passed straight through, it had been accelerating hard in persuit of the final blood frigate, its transversal to the destroyer dropped to almost zero, the larger vessel had taken advantage of this error. The templar flipped over, the wing stub tore free, folding across the hull and slamming into the engine bays when the second volley struck home, a crackle of static issued through the comns, but no voice broke through as the templar split open, plumes of atmosphere, crystalised fluids and debris flung themselves into the void.
"Markus is down, I'm in persuit of the frigate", Kalos' voice broke into my thoughts, shook me back to a reality that I didnt want to face. The destroyer finally tore itself apart before me, but I hardly saw it, I had retreated into my own head, safe from, or at least ignoring the facts I didnt want to be true.
The final frigate warped out when it realised it was alone, Kalos attempted to communicate with me again, then summoned the fleet. I remember little of the next few days I slowly came out of it over the next week, although the pain of loss has never left me.
Sunday, 7 February 2010
Wednesday, 3 February 2010
Interlude
A short break from the biography now, for another short (it started in my head as short, sorry) and hopefully enjoyable tale.
This one comes from my 3rd year at Imperial Acadamy Deepari.
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I awoke early, truth be told I had not slept well at all. Today was exam day, a practical demonstration of the techniques taught to us throuought the year in the techniques of survival. An art long rendered all but useless to the pod pilot through FTL communications and the pod itself, however as it is on the Amarrian curriculem, so it is taught without question.
I approached the group of students nervously gathering around the examiner. Markus was there, we had grown closer over the last 2 years here, naturally our little group had split into couples, not that me an Markus were an item of course, but Prypyet and Jinzu were practically inseperable. As this exam had loomed closer we had planned to try and support each other as best we could, we had heard horrific tales of past years experiences we dismissed many of them as exaggerations designed to intimedate us. The trouble was the nagging feeling that although exaggerated, the nature of the exam didn't exactly make any of them impossible.
The nature of the exam is one many outsiders may consider barbaric, or at least extreme. The candidates are loaded aboard a transport ship and flown out to an uninhabited planet, where they are ejected in drop-pods capable of only limited control during the decent to the planets surface where the candidates must survive for 4 weeks before being collected. Those who survive, pass.
The darkness envelops, the warm currents of shock gel flow around my body, yet I am still shivering. The drop-pod has not allowed me any access to nav computers for the last 3 jumps. A short tone emits through my head, the text "prepare for drop" appears to float before my eyes. I do not hear, rather I feel the thump of pods being ejected from the cargo hold, a particularly strong shock jolts me to alertness, that must have been Markus's pod, he had boarded just before me.
An almighty clunk followed by a screech of retrojets, gravity inverts, I breifly revisit my breakfast, it hadn't been particularly appetizing the first time round, and I float free.
The nav comp fires up, a large planet, well thats a relief, scare story No 1 busted. Scare story number 2 however was rearing its ugly head, I was already re-entering (technically entering but the terminology is fixed) the atmosphere. I caught a brief glimpse of a thrust jet flare a little off to my port, remembering our plan I started to guide my own pod into an adjacent plummet path.
The impact wasnt as hard as I had feared, but it was harder than I had hoped, when I came to and my head begin to clear I noticed there was a scrabbling on the outer hull, followed by a more reassuring hammering. I fumbled around inside the pod, found a large recessed lever, cycled the doorway and fell.
I apparently had managed to land my pod nose down wedged up against a tree, when I had cycled the door Markus who had been hammering at the hull was presented with 112lbs of Khanid along with a gallon or two of warm pod fluid.
The two of us lay sprawled in a heap on the floor beneith my pod, "Ahh Miss Incarn8, its never just a hello with you is it? always the big entrance", Markus could smirk at me all he liked, he was pleased to see me, I was pleased he had been there to break my second fall of the day.
Truth be told the planet, or at least the bit of it we could see, wasn't that bad. We had quickly constructed a small shelter, even food hadn't been as big a problem as we had feared. Later that evening as the light faded we retired to our shelter, "Well Markus, I guess this is our first night together ehh" grinning from ear to ear as he turned bright red, I had been winding him up something rotten all day, to the point he had even promised me a little white picket fence.
And so we continued, life was fairly easy, food plentiful, the company helped the time pass, and I managed to wear down his gentlemanly exterior to the point where he could even get me to turn beet red with a single comment. If the Abbots ever got wind of some of the euphamism and suggestive phrases we got through down there, we would have been assigned corrective theology for an eternity and probably still be damned afterwards.
Eventually the inevitable happened, at almost the 3 week anniversary of our arrival I awoke one morning finding it difficult to breath, opening my eyes I realise Markus is sprawled across me. Horror floods through me, tempered only by disgust and shame at myself flooding straight back. Do I try to escape make like it hasn't happened, or pretend to be asleep let him decide? Fortunately, I am spared making the descision as he awakens at almost the same instant. Springing across the room from me, we each retreat to opposite corners like scolded cats, grabbing at my clothes I flee the shelter not returning until my stomach demands attention late in the evening.
He is sat beside a fire, a small pot bubbling away atop it, he places a small amount of whatever was within it into a bowel and places it directly opposite from his seat, not once looking towards me, I mumble a thanks and sit facing away from him.
Fed and thinking properly for once, I turn back to him, "We did didnt we?" I ask so quietly I didnt think he could have heard, "Yeah", comes the equally quiet bearly whispered reply. Silence reigns once more for what seems an eternity, before Markus offers "If you want, it can be as if it never happened, we need never mention it again," I look up from my study of a small pebble, "but we cant can we?, I look at you now and thats all I can think of." He fails to surpress a grin, catches himself and ends our only communication of the day, "You take the shelter, I will sleep out here tonight." I had long ago learned that I never win against his determined chivelrous side, so I take my leave and retire to a fitfull nights sleep.
Awakening to the early dawn, I shiver away the lonely nights chills, becoming aware of cooking sounds outside I rise quickly, my mind cleansed overnight my decision clear and simple.
I emerge from our shelter, he initially backs away, my soft smile catches him offguard. "You are up to something, arn't you?" he hazards. I continue my approach, "I had a long think last night, I have a way to save us." Reaching him, I look straight up into his face, "When I want something, I get it" and I kissed him, I have never been one for requesting acceptance of my plans, besides I didnt detect much in the way of resistance off him.
The last 3 days of our incarceration turned out to be some of the happiest of my life since leaving Palas. Waking in the arms of the man who used to be one of my closest friends, turned first official lover. Just how this arrangement will last back up at the Acadamy under the eyes of the Abbots didn't concern us at that time, we just reveled in each others company until the day the dropships arrived to return us to normality.
I rekon I passed that exam.
This one comes from my 3rd year at Imperial Acadamy Deepari.
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I awoke early, truth be told I had not slept well at all. Today was exam day, a practical demonstration of the techniques taught to us throuought the year in the techniques of survival. An art long rendered all but useless to the pod pilot through FTL communications and the pod itself, however as it is on the Amarrian curriculem, so it is taught without question.
I approached the group of students nervously gathering around the examiner. Markus was there, we had grown closer over the last 2 years here, naturally our little group had split into couples, not that me an Markus were an item of course, but Prypyet and Jinzu were practically inseperable. As this exam had loomed closer we had planned to try and support each other as best we could, we had heard horrific tales of past years experiences we dismissed many of them as exaggerations designed to intimedate us. The trouble was the nagging feeling that although exaggerated, the nature of the exam didn't exactly make any of them impossible.
The nature of the exam is one many outsiders may consider barbaric, or at least extreme. The candidates are loaded aboard a transport ship and flown out to an uninhabited planet, where they are ejected in drop-pods capable of only limited control during the decent to the planets surface where the candidates must survive for 4 weeks before being collected. Those who survive, pass.
The darkness envelops, the warm currents of shock gel flow around my body, yet I am still shivering. The drop-pod has not allowed me any access to nav computers for the last 3 jumps. A short tone emits through my head, the text "prepare for drop" appears to float before my eyes. I do not hear, rather I feel the thump of pods being ejected from the cargo hold, a particularly strong shock jolts me to alertness, that must have been Markus's pod, he had boarded just before me.
An almighty clunk followed by a screech of retrojets, gravity inverts, I breifly revisit my breakfast, it hadn't been particularly appetizing the first time round, and I float free.
The nav comp fires up, a large planet, well thats a relief, scare story No 1 busted. Scare story number 2 however was rearing its ugly head, I was already re-entering (technically entering but the terminology is fixed) the atmosphere. I caught a brief glimpse of a thrust jet flare a little off to my port, remembering our plan I started to guide my own pod into an adjacent plummet path.
The impact wasnt as hard as I had feared, but it was harder than I had hoped, when I came to and my head begin to clear I noticed there was a scrabbling on the outer hull, followed by a more reassuring hammering. I fumbled around inside the pod, found a large recessed lever, cycled the doorway and fell.
I apparently had managed to land my pod nose down wedged up against a tree, when I had cycled the door Markus who had been hammering at the hull was presented with 112lbs of Khanid along with a gallon or two of warm pod fluid.
The two of us lay sprawled in a heap on the floor beneith my pod, "Ahh Miss Incarn8, its never just a hello with you is it? always the big entrance", Markus could smirk at me all he liked, he was pleased to see me, I was pleased he had been there to break my second fall of the day.
Truth be told the planet, or at least the bit of it we could see, wasn't that bad. We had quickly constructed a small shelter, even food hadn't been as big a problem as we had feared. Later that evening as the light faded we retired to our shelter, "Well Markus, I guess this is our first night together ehh" grinning from ear to ear as he turned bright red, I had been winding him up something rotten all day, to the point he had even promised me a little white picket fence.
And so we continued, life was fairly easy, food plentiful, the company helped the time pass, and I managed to wear down his gentlemanly exterior to the point where he could even get me to turn beet red with a single comment. If the Abbots ever got wind of some of the euphamism and suggestive phrases we got through down there, we would have been assigned corrective theology for an eternity and probably still be damned afterwards.
Eventually the inevitable happened, at almost the 3 week anniversary of our arrival I awoke one morning finding it difficult to breath, opening my eyes I realise Markus is sprawled across me. Horror floods through me, tempered only by disgust and shame at myself flooding straight back. Do I try to escape make like it hasn't happened, or pretend to be asleep let him decide? Fortunately, I am spared making the descision as he awakens at almost the same instant. Springing across the room from me, we each retreat to opposite corners like scolded cats, grabbing at my clothes I flee the shelter not returning until my stomach demands attention late in the evening.
He is sat beside a fire, a small pot bubbling away atop it, he places a small amount of whatever was within it into a bowel and places it directly opposite from his seat, not once looking towards me, I mumble a thanks and sit facing away from him.
Fed and thinking properly for once, I turn back to him, "We did didnt we?" I ask so quietly I didnt think he could have heard, "Yeah", comes the equally quiet bearly whispered reply. Silence reigns once more for what seems an eternity, before Markus offers "If you want, it can be as if it never happened, we need never mention it again," I look up from my study of a small pebble, "but we cant can we?, I look at you now and thats all I can think of." He fails to surpress a grin, catches himself and ends our only communication of the day, "You take the shelter, I will sleep out here tonight." I had long ago learned that I never win against his determined chivelrous side, so I take my leave and retire to a fitfull nights sleep.
Awakening to the early dawn, I shiver away the lonely nights chills, becoming aware of cooking sounds outside I rise quickly, my mind cleansed overnight my decision clear and simple.
I emerge from our shelter, he initially backs away, my soft smile catches him offguard. "You are up to something, arn't you?" he hazards. I continue my approach, "I had a long think last night, I have a way to save us." Reaching him, I look straight up into his face, "When I want something, I get it" and I kissed him, I have never been one for requesting acceptance of my plans, besides I didnt detect much in the way of resistance off him.
The last 3 days of our incarceration turned out to be some of the happiest of my life since leaving Palas. Waking in the arms of the man who used to be one of my closest friends, turned first official lover. Just how this arrangement will last back up at the Acadamy under the eyes of the Abbots didn't concern us at that time, we just reveled in each others company until the day the dropships arrived to return us to normality.
I rekon I passed that exam.
Monday, 25 January 2010
Biography, College Years Part 1 of 2
Ok I know you have all been waiting for this one :), but remember its an Amarrian acadamy so it might not be all that you have been dreaming up.
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At the end of last weeks episode I had just arrived at the Imperial Acadamy in Deepari, I found the nearest trash compactor, tossed the hated datapad away and began 4 years of training on my route to becoming the greatest of living beings this side of the Empress and God himself, a pod pilot.
Now 4 years is a long time, so I hope you dont expect a day by day diary of it all, and at the rate I am publishing these I will never catch up with myself, so its the importaint bits only ok? If you got a problem with that, take it up with my publisher.
Now, being a Khanid who was, even by my own standards, full of her own self importance, being dropped into a class of Amarrians who all knew they were the center of the universe and the best thing since liquid Vitoc you can imagine there were a number of ego clashes. My Khanid heratige also caused a few if not more clashes with the stricter Amarrians. You see we Khanid may follow the same basic scripture and way of life as the Amarr, however we tend to be a little more liberal and tolerant of some areas. I had, in view of these differences, purchased myself a new edition of the Pax Amarria and was studying it along with a very thorough and helpful book I had been advised to check out of the Acadamies Introductions to Amarrian culture section, it was entitled the "Visitors guide to Amarr, A beginners guide to avoiding Eternal Damnation, (Complete Edition)".
Unlearning habits and rules that I had lived with for 22 years was somewhat more difficult than the basic theory that the Acadamy's tutors were putting us through for the first year. Planetry motion, Thermodynamics and Quantum Effects on Warp Drive Calibration all these subjects became a walk in the Bio-Dome compaired with remembering to bow my head on passing the countless Masters and Abbots whilst wandering the corridors of the Acadamy.
The other major clashing point I had with the Brothers, who enforced the theological laws, concerned a facet of my persona that I would have conciderable difficulty in changing (unless I was in Gallante regions I have heard), I was female. This wasn't as great a problem as it had been centuaries before, the everpresent reminder of the Empress sorted that out, oh no we females are respected as useful contributions to the world, a Creation of God therefore of equal stature in his eyes to men. Its just that in the tierd old eyes of the tutors of the Acadamy we, or I specifically as they persisted in informing me, were sent here as a trial for them personally.
I was assigned to a small class of only 30 students, the population of which was to whittle down to only 8 graduates, the result of a mixture of dropouts, transfers, two unfortunate fatalities and an execution. Of this class I was one of 4 Khanids and 3 girls, myself being the only crossover between the two catagories. Initially I took a while to warm to my colleagues, my background hadn't prepared me for regular contact with equals, my father was my superior and was to be obeyed to the nth degree, and the assets were ordered and used as required, I had no middle ground to fall back on.
Anyway here I can hit fast-forward over most of the first year providing you with outcomes and such, it is becoming a bit more of a record of facts, but thats my writing style, get used to it. The first year consisted of normalising all applicants into a standard level of knowledge, weeding out the innapropriate, either academically, theologically or psycological, and rasing basic theory skills in astronamy, physics and quantum mechanics. The academic studies I could cope with well, father had provided the best education for me that was available. Psycological, well I was stable enough, my independant streak infuriated testers and tutors alike but was identified as not particularly a bad thing in a pilot. However theologically I struggled, my self tutoring was slow going and I would subconciously slip back to my Khanid teachings. I barely passed this sector of assessment. Of our class seven were rejected outright during the first term, one of the two falling at the theological hurdle was a young Khanid I had started to get to know. His enforced departure had earned me my first disiplinary, I had voiced my objections directly at the Abbot, this was a big no-no.
The second year was more hands on for the remaining 23 students, I was becoming more integrated into the group, and had naturally grouped up with the remaining two Khanid guys, we were having similar culture adjustment problems so it was a natural choice. However that is not to say that I shunned the other students, no, I got on with three of the Amarrians quite well by this time, Markus, Pripyet, and Jinzu the four of us stuck together and they helped me to not only adjust but to get off my own high horse and remind me when to bite my lip around the Masters.
The second year also introduced us to our first taste of commanding a ship, virtual reality simulations, the Acadamy wasn't prepared to allow us, supervised or not, to pilot real ships yet. This wasnt fliying by capsule, this was traditional bridge control, shouted orders, control panels, vid screens, all very exciting.
This was a skill I seemed to excel at, I couldnt understand or explain how I could do it, but I always seemed to be more together and aware of my surroundings than the other students.
There are the first two years at Imperial Acadamy Deepari, I intend to do another like this, simply chronicaling the general trail of events, and then do seperate stories at a later date on specific events, for ex. my Ground Combat story is one of the lessons from my 4th year.
-----------------------------------------------
At the end of last weeks episode I had just arrived at the Imperial Acadamy in Deepari, I found the nearest trash compactor, tossed the hated datapad away and began 4 years of training on my route to becoming the greatest of living beings this side of the Empress and God himself, a pod pilot.
Now 4 years is a long time, so I hope you dont expect a day by day diary of it all, and at the rate I am publishing these I will never catch up with myself, so its the importaint bits only ok? If you got a problem with that, take it up with my publisher.
Now, being a Khanid who was, even by my own standards, full of her own self importance, being dropped into a class of Amarrians who all knew they were the center of the universe and the best thing since liquid Vitoc you can imagine there were a number of ego clashes. My Khanid heratige also caused a few if not more clashes with the stricter Amarrians. You see we Khanid may follow the same basic scripture and way of life as the Amarr, however we tend to be a little more liberal and tolerant of some areas. I had, in view of these differences, purchased myself a new edition of the Pax Amarria and was studying it along with a very thorough and helpful book I had been advised to check out of the Acadamies Introductions to Amarrian culture section, it was entitled the "Visitors guide to Amarr, A beginners guide to avoiding Eternal Damnation, (Complete Edition)".
Unlearning habits and rules that I had lived with for 22 years was somewhat more difficult than the basic theory that the Acadamy's tutors were putting us through for the first year. Planetry motion, Thermodynamics and Quantum Effects on Warp Drive Calibration all these subjects became a walk in the Bio-Dome compaired with remembering to bow my head on passing the countless Masters and Abbots whilst wandering the corridors of the Acadamy.
The other major clashing point I had with the Brothers, who enforced the theological laws, concerned a facet of my persona that I would have conciderable difficulty in changing (unless I was in Gallante regions I have heard), I was female. This wasn't as great a problem as it had been centuaries before, the everpresent reminder of the Empress sorted that out, oh no we females are respected as useful contributions to the world, a Creation of God therefore of equal stature in his eyes to men. Its just that in the tierd old eyes of the tutors of the Acadamy we, or I specifically as they persisted in informing me, were sent here as a trial for them personally.
I was assigned to a small class of only 30 students, the population of which was to whittle down to only 8 graduates, the result of a mixture of dropouts, transfers, two unfortunate fatalities and an execution. Of this class I was one of 4 Khanids and 3 girls, myself being the only crossover between the two catagories. Initially I took a while to warm to my colleagues, my background hadn't prepared me for regular contact with equals, my father was my superior and was to be obeyed to the nth degree, and the assets were ordered and used as required, I had no middle ground to fall back on.
Anyway here I can hit fast-forward over most of the first year providing you with outcomes and such, it is becoming a bit more of a record of facts, but thats my writing style, get used to it. The first year consisted of normalising all applicants into a standard level of knowledge, weeding out the innapropriate, either academically, theologically or psycological, and rasing basic theory skills in astronamy, physics and quantum mechanics. The academic studies I could cope with well, father had provided the best education for me that was available. Psycological, well I was stable enough, my independant streak infuriated testers and tutors alike but was identified as not particularly a bad thing in a pilot. However theologically I struggled, my self tutoring was slow going and I would subconciously slip back to my Khanid teachings. I barely passed this sector of assessment. Of our class seven were rejected outright during the first term, one of the two falling at the theological hurdle was a young Khanid I had started to get to know. His enforced departure had earned me my first disiplinary, I had voiced my objections directly at the Abbot, this was a big no-no.
The second year was more hands on for the remaining 23 students, I was becoming more integrated into the group, and had naturally grouped up with the remaining two Khanid guys, we were having similar culture adjustment problems so it was a natural choice. However that is not to say that I shunned the other students, no, I got on with three of the Amarrians quite well by this time, Markus, Pripyet, and Jinzu the four of us stuck together and they helped me to not only adjust but to get off my own high horse and remind me when to bite my lip around the Masters.
The second year also introduced us to our first taste of commanding a ship, virtual reality simulations, the Acadamy wasn't prepared to allow us, supervised or not, to pilot real ships yet. This wasnt fliying by capsule, this was traditional bridge control, shouted orders, control panels, vid screens, all very exciting.
This was a skill I seemed to excel at, I couldnt understand or explain how I could do it, but I always seemed to be more together and aware of my surroundings than the other students.
There are the first two years at Imperial Acadamy Deepari, I intend to do another like this, simply chronicaling the general trail of events, and then do seperate stories at a later date on specific events, for ex. my Ground Combat story is one of the lessons from my 4th year.
Saturday, 16 January 2010
If at first you don't succeed, cheat.
Space bulged, twisted and finally tore to allow the compact hull of the Retribution class assault frigate to re-enter normal space. Reassembled only mere moments ago by the intra-system jumpgate it was already accelerating hard, targeting systems pushed to the limit as it tried to ensnare the hapless Thrasher, specialised verses frigates sure, but not 1 on 1 with this one.
Long scars, some still glowing despite the chill of space were visible along its hull from the previous engagement only seconds ago, and light-years away on the other side of the gate. The destroyer was busy manuvering also, aligning and accelerating up to warp speed in a desperate attempt to get to a station.
"3 ...... 2 ...... 1 .... damn you, someone is sure smiling on you today" the curse echoes through the comn net onboard the Retribution as the Thrasher enters warp evading destruction yet again, "align and follow it, he's not safe yet".
A high pitched whine and deeper throb of the warp drives spooling down signal a return to sublight speeds, immediately the sensors scour the local area, sure enough a familiar signal is detected.
"You're mine now" the thrasher had miscalculated its warp, dropping almost 5km short of the stations weapons free docking zone, although by now it was now almost up to speed and closing the distance rapidly.
"Load conflag, max damage we don't have much time" the order rang out across the gunnery control room. At the observation and tracking station the targeting systems were once again attempting to acquire a lock. The auto loaders respond to commands from the gun-control techs to switch out the longer range crystals from the pulse laser emplacements, slipping the close range ammo into place faster than any other weapon system in the cluster was capable of.
The target lock tone sounded bringing an evil grin to the face of the pilot, "open fire, all weapons".
The oversized capacitor buried deep within the small ship poured energy into the 4 pulse lasers. On rapid fire mode they transferred the electrical power into a stream of charged photons (in a nice green colour) that crossed the gap between the two ships faster than the blink of an eye.
The already depleted shield of the Thrasher gave in on the first salvo, lasers being wickedly effective against the electromagnetic defence, a second salvo followed shortly after burning into the thin armour, whisps of atmosphere venting from unprotected compartments.
The third salvo however was the killer, 2 beams punched straight through one engine pod, nuclear fire spilling into the night, the other two slicing the bow clean off. Well it would have come off cleanly if the ammo cache hadn't been stored there.
Debris spinning through space, flash frozen fluids glinting in the sunlight, the hunter still searches, targeting system spots its prey, a small brown sphere still moving determinedly towards the neutral zone. "Ohh no you don't, your ass is mine"
3 .... 2 .... 1 .... "This is the Republic Fleet, engaging in combat within the station docking perimeter is a CONCORD sanctioned offence and will be dealt with harshly." The target lock drops, the hunter watches the prey disappear into the docking bay. After a quick glance at the spoils of the Thrasher wreck, the Retribution also docks.
Ectoplasmic fluid drains from the pod, the pilot detaches her spinal implant from the capsule systems, regaining consciousness she removes her mouth piece, wipes the gloop from her face before detaching the remaining lower spinal implants.
Stepping from the pod she takes a quick shower before donning a long black and red dress, with traditional Khanid Kingdom headgear.
Looking across the hanger as she walks towards the main hub, a tall Brutor is pulled from his capsule by deck hands, although not unconscious he looks to be having difficulty standing. She grins, "I may just get you yet mate."
Walking into the bustle of the Matari station is always a relief for me, in any other races station the plebs fall over themselves to assist me with tasks I am perfectly capable of performing for myself. Here however, none of them want to be seen working for an Amarrian, ahh the freedom, yeah I know it's ironic an Amarrian seeking freedom in Matari space, but it's the way I like it.
I choose a seat outside a small cafe where I can watch the comings and goings from the docking bay, I catch the attention of a waitress and try to explain to the her how to make a proper cup of tea, then sit and wait for my man to recover.
A few minutes later he emerges, dressed simply "Brutor Warrior" or something like that is the 'in' fashion it seems. I stand and walk over to him, "You seemed to be having a little trouble in there, all ok now?", he regards me with what I suppose was a sneer, he hasn't quite got the hang of it yet, the Matari have nothing to sneer about. "Yeah I'm fine" he replies "just had my ship shot from under me is all, I don't suppose you would know anything about that though would you?" his grin suggests he knows exactly who I am. "Care for a drink" I offer, we sit and chat, he orders some thick black filth with bits floating in it that seems all the rage. We carefully avoid discussing the politics that brought us to war, we are simply two soldiers at truce.
It is later in the evening, we have moved from cafe to bar, a seedy little Matari place where smoke shrouds the lights, my outfit is drawing a few strange glances from those Matari who are a little old fashioned in their outlook on the world. Cid, I discovered his name was, doesn't seem to notice, he orders us a few drinks and gets us a booth. There is a small stage at the far end, I can't quite tell if it's a musical performance or dancing girls, either way they are not getting much attention.
We talk more, getting a little louder, the topics varying faster and with less logic to trace a path through. I offer to get the next round. At the bar I order him another bottle of whatever light beer he had before, I get myself the only brand of Spiced wine available this far out of the Empire. Before returning to our table I extract a small blue vial from my sleeve, tipping a small amount into his drink. I pause, "To hell with it, if I'm going to do this I may as well make it as enjoyable as I can", I extract a second vial, a soft red colour, and tip a few drops in his, then one in my own as well. I signal the barman that I want the spiced wine bottle as well. I walk back through the increasingly busy bar to our table.
Delayed action neuro-inhibitors, the little blue vial contained a marvel of the many chemical weapons programmes, non lethal, unless you wanted them to be, they could be tuned to almost any function, and set to become active over quite an accurate time span. The red vial however was a lot more common, at least throughout the Gallante Federation, where it was crudely described as an "industrial strength aphrodisiac"
Returning to our table he takes his drink and downs it, before refilling, he leans back in his chair and we carry on as before. Eventually I see the effects begin to kick in, he gets a little closer, his eyes wander and he is less concerned if I notice, he also starts trying to change to more risqué subjects, I play along feeding his growing ego, the alcohol and chemicals surging through him betraying any common sense he may have had before.
I'm beginning to think something is wrong when finally he pops the golden question, "I got some classy stuff back at my place, fancy joining me?" I flash him a shy grin, "Good sir, If I didn't know any better I might think you were trying to lead me astray" another smile, this one considerably more dirty, before I pull him from his seat.
We are barely out of the bar when he has his arms around me, he tries to press me against the wall and leans in. I may be small, little over 5'8 but I can more than hold my own. His mind seems to clear a little when I have my hand at his throat, "I am no slut" keeping my voice low, but the menace is unmistakable, "you want me, you take me home, you will get nothing from me in the street".
Stepping into his apartment he seems to have calmed down a little, "you want another drink or something?" he seems to have given up, whatever happened to Matari stubbornness? I remove my hard formal collar and headdress, his eyes prick up "maybe not yet" I coo at him, suddenly he is in his element again, upon me in an instant.
[[ Yes I'm deliberately missing a bit out here, No I'm not going to give you details.]]
I awaken in an unusual bed, lying on my back pinned in place by the large Brutor, "Eughh, sometimes I wish I did drink, it might make forgetting things like this easier". I wriggle out from under him, the combined sleeping draught and muscle relaxant I had spiked him with last night was in full effect. I pad across the room to the shower, selecting a warm body massage I let the water work its magic on my aching body.
Emerging a few minutes later, he is still out of it, I recover my clothes from where they fell across the room last night. Dressing quickly, but with the care and attention due to this action, I survey the room. Simple, but you can see where he has spent his earnings, everything has its place, unusual in a man.
I sit at his datapad, "heh, fingerprint scanner, here ya go Cid open this will ya?" I press it against his unresisting hand, access granted it chimes. Intel, beautiful, it shouldn't be this easy, I download it into my implant. Now we finish up.
Standing, I pull a small electronic device from my bag, about palm size, it has a single implant connector on one end, and a covered button on the other. "It was nice working with you Mr Cid, but now it's time for you to wake up", I press the device into the implant socket at the base of his skull, flipping the cover up I press the button. His body tenses then spasms once, the EMP device has fried not only his implants, but every synapse in his brain. "Nobody cheats me out of a pod kill Mr Cid, time for you and me to leave, I have a space in my collection reserved for you."
Bundling him onto a luggage trolley I take him to the nearest airlock, tucking a small homing beacon into his collar, I step back and cycle it, instant meat popsicle. As easy as it would be to take him direct to my hanger, Having an unfrozen specimen would cause questions, not to mention an unpleasant smell.
Returning to the apartment I glance around checking for any details suggesting two people were here. I almost miss the second glass on the table, I toss it down the refuse chute and I leave. Taking a short excursion outside to retrieve my prize.
I sit again at my place outside the little cafe. Soon enough, it happens..
A large Brutor, bald and still wearing the cheap clonebay jumpsuit is arguing with a docking manager.
"I don't care what your records show, I know I damn well I docked the pod, so why the hell did I just wakeup in the clone bay?
"I'm sorry Sir, our logs show nothing"
I lean back and smile to myself, I never miss my mark.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
If you had ever wondered how you sometimes dock, yet still lose your pod?
A long one, and a little more raunchy than I have done before, I'm not too sure if it fits Evil's way of doing things or clashes too much with her high moral standings, which is why I haven't used her name. It could easily be her though, so watch out.
Thursday, 14 January 2010
Part 3, Biography
[[Ok first up, an apology for those expecting Part 3, "The College Years", I sortof got into the travelling a bit deep and well, I want to do college properly and I expect all you lot want all the dirty details (you perverts), so this one is a travel blog. Hey if LOTR can do chapters of walking so can I :)]]
So where was I, ahh yes I had just learned of my, well I hesitate to use the word destiny as that sounds all "sword in the stoney" and similar tosh, but destiny is sortof what I mean.
Approaching the desk of the Palas branch of the Interbus, I placed the datapad on the counter and announced that "I want to go there". The lady behind the counter, a Ni-Kunni, who well lets just say she had a face for radio. Looked at me sighed the "its almost the end of a long shift" sigh and picked up the datapad. Returning her gaze to me "payment in ISK?" she exclaimed "Pft, seems somebody has the right connections, a single to Deepari, no return" I am sure she chose to look me deep in the eye on saying "no return" but I was too out of it/crazy/arrogant to care. Taking my ticket and datapad I proceded through into the terminal.
I was standing in the Interstellar Departures lounge of the Palas II Interbus Terminal. With a few minutes to kill I spent awhile browsing the duty(and Sin) free stalls, (well it wouldnt be a Duty free without alcohol and as this is a Khanid Station you have to make allowances, its there purly for visitors on the assumption that any purchases are confiscated by Customs and Exorcision officers upon leaving the store). I bought myself a new Amarrian Edition of the Pax Amarria, (2 additional chapters on Sin, 1 fewer on tolerance of Forigners than the Khanid version I had learned).
My flight was called and I boarded the transport, I wouldnt say full of excitement thats a bit cheesy and you would be expecting that. I would however say full of tierdness, recoving from a caffine hit from that filth I had been given earlier and a little trepidation but that goes without saying really (even tho I realise I have said it but it wouldn't be much of a story if I didn't say stuff would it?) It was my first time not only away from home alone, or even off world, I was leaving my home region everything I knew and understood. One small step for a woman, one giant catchphrase for all time etc etc.
My home for the next week as I traveled to Deepari was to be an old Bestower class hauler, looking for all the world as though it was the original prototype still plodding away hundreds if not thousands of years later. The cargo hold had been cleared out and a few passenger containers installed, not comfortable or spacious but for the 300odd of us making the trip it was sufficiant. We undocked from the station, aligned to the intersystem jumpgate and warped, the world streching around me then twanging back into place as the acceleration finished, my journey was beginning.
I was going to write something about when I first saw a stargate, but other than "wow, it was big" I cant think of much else to put. The captain announced he was about to jump and advised all first time jumpers to remain seated as it could be a little disorientating the first time. This man is also now on my black list, 'A little disorientating'? I passed out and remained unconcious for nearly half an hour. I returned to conciousness under the minstrations of two elderly ladies, I saw elderly its quite hard to tell with the True Amarr, they tend to 'mature' quite early in life. Needless to say I was the subject of some humour for the second time that day. Offering me some sage advice on travel the ladies left me with this one gem, "Some people take it harder than others, gate travel just doesnt seem to agree with you,. Get yourself wherever you are going and find yourself a nice young man with a loose wallet, get yourself set up planetside love, thats my advice." I spent most of the flight in my room, never too sure of how far we had gone or even the time of day.
[[ Approximately 1 week later]]
Another captains announcment, "Ladies and Gentlemen welcome to Deepari, we are currently aligning for our final approach to the Imperial Acadamy, final stop all change." Rushing to the porthole (on the starboard side but I'm told that doesn't affect the terminology) I managed to gimpse the retreating stargate as we entered warp, but the sky, ohh my God it was the wrong colour!.
The star and moons flashed past before receeding, then the magnificant golden hull of the station came into view, (enter another "Oh my God its huge" here if you want), upon entering the arrivals terminal the datapad litup, announcing that I was to make for the Acadamy portal, I followed its advice chafeing against the voice of that Bitch from Palas that it continued to speak in no matter how many settings I changed. (I know you are thinking "Bitch from Palas? who?" well the pod pilot of course, just because she set me up on my way to Galactic domination providing the means and direction to get me going doesnt mean I have to like her, she still knocked me over, I dont forget things like that.)
Walking through the portal I began my new life, Evil Incarn8(although I hadnt thought this name up yet, I'm still not telling you my real name) College Girl.
Read on next time avid, err reader, for the next chapter in the ongoing saga and text based adventures of Evil Incarn8.
So where was I, ahh yes I had just learned of my, well I hesitate to use the word destiny as that sounds all "sword in the stoney" and similar tosh, but destiny is sortof what I mean.
Approaching the desk of the Palas branch of the Interbus, I placed the datapad on the counter and announced that "I want to go there". The lady behind the counter, a Ni-Kunni, who well lets just say she had a face for radio. Looked at me sighed the "its almost the end of a long shift" sigh and picked up the datapad. Returning her gaze to me "payment in ISK?" she exclaimed "Pft, seems somebody has the right connections, a single to Deepari, no return" I am sure she chose to look me deep in the eye on saying "no return" but I was too out of it/crazy/arrogant to care. Taking my ticket and datapad I proceded through into the terminal.
I was standing in the Interstellar Departures lounge of the Palas II Interbus Terminal. With a few minutes to kill I spent awhile browsing the duty(and Sin) free stalls, (well it wouldnt be a Duty free without alcohol and as this is a Khanid Station you have to make allowances, its there purly for visitors on the assumption that any purchases are confiscated by Customs and Exorcision officers upon leaving the store). I bought myself a new Amarrian Edition of the Pax Amarria, (2 additional chapters on Sin, 1 fewer on tolerance of Forigners than the Khanid version I had learned).
My flight was called and I boarded the transport, I wouldnt say full of excitement thats a bit cheesy and you would be expecting that. I would however say full of tierdness, recoving from a caffine hit from that filth I had been given earlier and a little trepidation but that goes without saying really (even tho I realise I have said it but it wouldn't be much of a story if I didn't say stuff would it?) It was my first time not only away from home alone, or even off world, I was leaving my home region everything I knew and understood. One small step for a woman, one giant catchphrase for all time etc etc.
My home for the next week as I traveled to Deepari was to be an old Bestower class hauler, looking for all the world as though it was the original prototype still plodding away hundreds if not thousands of years later. The cargo hold had been cleared out and a few passenger containers installed, not comfortable or spacious but for the 300odd of us making the trip it was sufficiant. We undocked from the station, aligned to the intersystem jumpgate and warped, the world streching around me then twanging back into place as the acceleration finished, my journey was beginning.
I was going to write something about when I first saw a stargate, but other than "wow, it was big" I cant think of much else to put. The captain announced he was about to jump and advised all first time jumpers to remain seated as it could be a little disorientating the first time. This man is also now on my black list, 'A little disorientating'? I passed out and remained unconcious for nearly half an hour. I returned to conciousness under the minstrations of two elderly ladies, I saw elderly its quite hard to tell with the True Amarr, they tend to 'mature' quite early in life. Needless to say I was the subject of some humour for the second time that day. Offering me some sage advice on travel the ladies left me with this one gem, "Some people take it harder than others, gate travel just doesnt seem to agree with you,. Get yourself wherever you are going and find yourself a nice young man with a loose wallet, get yourself set up planetside love, thats my advice." I spent most of the flight in my room, never too sure of how far we had gone or even the time of day.
[[ Approximately 1 week later]]
Another captains announcment, "Ladies and Gentlemen welcome to Deepari, we are currently aligning for our final approach to the Imperial Acadamy, final stop all change." Rushing to the porthole (on the starboard side but I'm told that doesn't affect the terminology) I managed to gimpse the retreating stargate as we entered warp, but the sky, ohh my God it was the wrong colour!.
The star and moons flashed past before receeding, then the magnificant golden hull of the station came into view, (enter another "Oh my God its huge" here if you want), upon entering the arrivals terminal the datapad litup, announcing that I was to make for the Acadamy portal, I followed its advice chafeing against the voice of that Bitch from Palas that it continued to speak in no matter how many settings I changed. (I know you are thinking "Bitch from Palas? who?" well the pod pilot of course, just because she set me up on my way to Galactic domination providing the means and direction to get me going doesnt mean I have to like her, she still knocked me over, I dont forget things like that.)
Walking through the portal I began my new life, Evil Incarn8(although I hadnt thought this name up yet, I'm still not telling you my real name) College Girl.
Read on next time avid, err reader, for the next chapter in the ongoing saga and text based adventures of Evil Incarn8.
Saturday, 9 January 2010
Evil Incarn8, The Slightly Later Years.
The last few blogs I have posted were a bit of fun, snapshots from a later life, or you could say I had thought them up and couldn't wait to post them :)
Anyway this one is a return to a chronological biography, I will probably flit between these and the shorter, "action" scenes dependant on my mood.
-------------------
The story so far:
I am 22 still living on my fathers mining installation on Palas 3, a lone child, but at the center of a community of thousands.
I say I lived with my father, its not really true, I lived on his land, his installation, but it was my own well I suppose you would call it a datcha or ranch house. I had a small staff of 8 to keep it all nice and to do all the house stuff, (I'm still not too sure what they spent most of the time doing).
I meanwhile did what was expected of the daughter of a major player in the planetry mineral business. I held parties, I went to parties, I visted people and held dinners. For the last 6 years since I became old enough to be considered independent. It was great fun in the beginning, a life of glitz and glamour. 6 years however was just about as much as I could take.
I know all you people who grew up "doing stuff" say you had it hard, pft I say. Socialising with endless streams of people who know everything there is to know about rocks, minerals and geology is far harder. To top it off I'm supposed to become this? I'm supposed to pick one of these droning morons to live with, for the rest of my life? no way, I'm outta here.
So, on this one evening I told my father my intentions, he wasn't pleased initially, but eventually he understood, and told me what I knew he must, if I left I could not return until I was as successfull in whatever I became as I was before I left. The next morning I packed a small bag, (well I had one packed for me) and told No32 to drive me to the terminal, I remember No32 as he was the last of my fathers assets I saw. I think he knew I was leaving and that he would be reassigned to the mine when I was gone.
I boarded the shuttle out to the closest station from the spaceport and left Palas 3 for the last and only time, I had been above the atmosphere before, my father had a very literal sence of "seeing where you came from" and suborbit was the only way to see it all at once.
It was a small shuttlecraft trip, and there was only the 4 passengers aboard, my self and a small delegation of businessmen from the Palas 4 gas mining company, I had dined with them the week before, and chatting again on the short trip reaffirmed my desire to escape.
Arriving at Palas2 Royal Khanid Navy Station was quite a shock to a number of my sences, not least of which was my first encounter with a foreigner. Well I say 'a' foreigner, leaving the docking port I was confronted with a wall of them, mostly Khanids but a fair few True Amarrians and I even spied a Civiere working in a cafe.
My initial plan was to get a simple job, (something I had read that people do when they arn't sleeping), I thought I should be good at it, and people once I told them who I was would let me have whatever I wanted. Fat chance. After walking bemused out of the offices of some accounting firm, my true destimy walked straight into me, knocking me down and not even casting a second glance at me.
As I sat there on the floor glaring into the back of this retreating Khanid woman, I saw the crowds part before her and whispers and glances from the people nearby. A nice young man (a True Amarrian gentleman) roused me from my vision, and told me in not so many words to keep out of the way of capsuleers, he also mentioned that it wasnt best to sit on the floor in a crowded walkway.
Well, after an experiance like that, anyone would have heeded the mans advice and gone about their business. Me? of course not, I was still full of myself, that morning I had been Queen of all I surveyed, now I was nothing, knocked to the floor by some woman.
I persued her through the crowd, getting what I assmed were warning glances from some people, others tried to keep up, expecting some kind of spectacle, boy did they get it.
Once I caught up to her I took hold of her shoulder an spun her about, bringing myself up to my full hight, not much but appearances are important, I started yelling about watching where she was going, who did she think she was etc etc. her responce? she rolled her eyes and started to turn away.
Ohh dear, ((here we could use the Kill Bill music where the bride sees each of her killers for the first time)) I grabbed her shoulder again, turning her back around, and rung her one hell of a slap right across her face, the silence that had decended instantly around the hall meant that the echo was audiable to the stunned crowd.
To my, and quite possibly most of the crowds surprise she smiled, then laughed and took me aside to a cafe, waving away the crowds with a simple gesture. Then ordering me what she called a "cawfee" she asked me if I knew anything about capsuleering, obviously I had not so she told a few tales of stars, empires and pretty explosions. She said I had the right attitude to go far, leaving me a datapad with instructions and enough ISK to get to the Imperial Acadamy in Deepari, she stood, looked at me again, half smiled, half laughed again and said "yes, you are definately one to watch, you will go far" then she left.
I finished the horrible bitter nastiiness she had given me, then walked towards the interstellar shuttle port, to go and train at "The Imperial Acadamy" I wasnt just leaving home, the planet, or even the system, I was going to the Amarrian Empire, to train to be a pod pilot.
"Evil Incarn8, Master of the Universe", yes I thought, I can do that.
to be continued.....
Anyway this one is a return to a chronological biography, I will probably flit between these and the shorter, "action" scenes dependant on my mood.
-------------------
The story so far:
I am 22 still living on my fathers mining installation on Palas 3, a lone child, but at the center of a community of thousands.
I say I lived with my father, its not really true, I lived on his land, his installation, but it was my own well I suppose you would call it a datcha or ranch house. I had a small staff of 8 to keep it all nice and to do all the house stuff, (I'm still not too sure what they spent most of the time doing).
I meanwhile did what was expected of the daughter of a major player in the planetry mineral business. I held parties, I went to parties, I visted people and held dinners. For the last 6 years since I became old enough to be considered independent. It was great fun in the beginning, a life of glitz and glamour. 6 years however was just about as much as I could take.
I know all you people who grew up "doing stuff" say you had it hard, pft I say. Socialising with endless streams of people who know everything there is to know about rocks, minerals and geology is far harder. To top it off I'm supposed to become this? I'm supposed to pick one of these droning morons to live with, for the rest of my life? no way, I'm outta here.
So, on this one evening I told my father my intentions, he wasn't pleased initially, but eventually he understood, and told me what I knew he must, if I left I could not return until I was as successfull in whatever I became as I was before I left. The next morning I packed a small bag, (well I had one packed for me) and told No32 to drive me to the terminal, I remember No32 as he was the last of my fathers assets I saw. I think he knew I was leaving and that he would be reassigned to the mine when I was gone.
I boarded the shuttle out to the closest station from the spaceport and left Palas 3 for the last and only time, I had been above the atmosphere before, my father had a very literal sence of "seeing where you came from" and suborbit was the only way to see it all at once.
It was a small shuttlecraft trip, and there was only the 4 passengers aboard, my self and a small delegation of businessmen from the Palas 4 gas mining company, I had dined with them the week before, and chatting again on the short trip reaffirmed my desire to escape.
Arriving at Palas2 Royal Khanid Navy Station was quite a shock to a number of my sences, not least of which was my first encounter with a foreigner. Well I say 'a' foreigner, leaving the docking port I was confronted with a wall of them, mostly Khanids but a fair few True Amarrians and I even spied a Civiere working in a cafe.
My initial plan was to get a simple job, (something I had read that people do when they arn't sleeping), I thought I should be good at it, and people once I told them who I was would let me have whatever I wanted. Fat chance. After walking bemused out of the offices of some accounting firm, my true destimy walked straight into me, knocking me down and not even casting a second glance at me.
As I sat there on the floor glaring into the back of this retreating Khanid woman, I saw the crowds part before her and whispers and glances from the people nearby. A nice young man (a True Amarrian gentleman) roused me from my vision, and told me in not so many words to keep out of the way of capsuleers, he also mentioned that it wasnt best to sit on the floor in a crowded walkway.
Well, after an experiance like that, anyone would have heeded the mans advice and gone about their business. Me? of course not, I was still full of myself, that morning I had been Queen of all I surveyed, now I was nothing, knocked to the floor by some woman.
I persued her through the crowd, getting what I assmed were warning glances from some people, others tried to keep up, expecting some kind of spectacle, boy did they get it.
Once I caught up to her I took hold of her shoulder an spun her about, bringing myself up to my full hight, not much but appearances are important, I started yelling about watching where she was going, who did she think she was etc etc. her responce? she rolled her eyes and started to turn away.
Ohh dear, ((here we could use the Kill Bill music where the bride sees each of her killers for the first time)) I grabbed her shoulder again, turning her back around, and rung her one hell of a slap right across her face, the silence that had decended instantly around the hall meant that the echo was audiable to the stunned crowd.
To my, and quite possibly most of the crowds surprise she smiled, then laughed and took me aside to a cafe, waving away the crowds with a simple gesture. Then ordering me what she called a "cawfee" she asked me if I knew anything about capsuleering, obviously I had not so she told a few tales of stars, empires and pretty explosions. She said I had the right attitude to go far, leaving me a datapad with instructions and enough ISK to get to the Imperial Acadamy in Deepari, she stood, looked at me again, half smiled, half laughed again and said "yes, you are definately one to watch, you will go far" then she left.
I finished the horrible bitter nastiiness she had given me, then walked towards the interstellar shuttle port, to go and train at "The Imperial Acadamy" I wasnt just leaving home, the planet, or even the system, I was going to the Amarrian Empire, to train to be a pod pilot.
"Evil Incarn8, Master of the Universe", yes I thought, I can do that.
to be continued.....
Thursday, 7 January 2010
Ground Combat
A dark sky,
Cold barren landscape, hard dark rocks clash against a background of pulverised dust,
A glint of reflected light,
A body, clad in a lightweight armoured suit lies in a shallow trench, covered in a light coating of the dark dust,
A hand twitches, fingers unfurl and then reclench, the facemask begins to demist and the features of a young Khanid girl are revealed.
Her head is still spinning, she attempts to recollect her thoughts as her suit runs diagnostics on life support and all the other myiriad of functions it provides.
She blinks, the suit returns all is well, along with a prompt to get off her ass and start running.
"Wait, what?" the fog in her mind clears, that last shell was close, far too close, she rolls onto all fours and crawls deeper into the trench, just in time too, a second salvo of shells lands scattering more dust across the landscape.
"Is there anyone out there?" her voice breaks out across the comm net, silence, noone left? or could their transmission equipment be damaged or jammed?.
"Ahh well, looks like its down to me again", crouching she creeps up to the lip of the trench, springing up over the lip, well over the lip, an alarm sounds in the suit she curses, "damn it, low grav" eventually she drops back down well beyond the trench and row of low craters beyond that. Settling into a long striding bounce the defenders seem to awaken, short puffs of dust spring up around her ankles on landing, chips of rock pininging off her smooth shin armour. Away from the ground her matt black suit hides her form against the blackness of space, the only evidence of her passing the eclipsing of stars behind her body. Closer to the horizon the setting of the sun blinding her opponents as she scrabbles low over the crests of the shallow craters pockmarking the terrain.
Arriving at the opposing trench she rises into the air on a final bound, tossing a short fused EMP grenade onto her approximation of where her targets crouched. A short flash, her suit regestering the LADAR echoes and pin pointing the position of the 5 reflecting enemy suits. 2 of them recieving direct hits from the EMP were in shutdown and going through a full system reset, they were as good as out of the battle already. Unholstering her laser pistol, the first shots raining down before she herself landed on the reverse edge of the trench, one figure falls down, venting gass from its neck, two others dive for cover from the as of yet unseen assailant.
Touchdown. small clouds of dust escape from beneath her feet. Putting a quick shot into both of the prostrate suits stunned by the EMP, "Sorry guys, but you would have done the same for me."
One of the figures has misgudged his dive for cover, he lies at her feet, looking up he recieves a blast of invisible laser energy through his visor. "too easy mate, far too easy" a quick snort of derision before she too ducks and dives for the cover of a fixed autogun position, chips of rock spraying into the sky. The second figure has recovered his composure, sporadic bursts from his rifle keep her head down.
"16, 20, 24, 28.... reloading, now," leaping into the air, a quick burst of her suits jet "not too much, I'm not allowed to leave this hell hole just yet" summersaulting at apogee, another burst and she is headed for the ground, her victim a perfect shot, one in the leg, one in the chest, "not text book, but it will do", rolling on landing, she stands to inspect her handywork, "Five nil guys, that was to ...."
The slug rips through the thin rear armour of her lower back, tearing through internal organs before erupting through her right breast. "eughh " blood splatters across the interior of her visor as she drops to her knees, vital atmosphere (along with fairly inportaint body parts) are venting through the tear in her suit. falling onto her face, she dies.
The screen goes dark.
Rebel Victory. 6 kills to 5
The VR machine releases its grasp on her conciousness, clearing the fog from her mind for what seems like the second time in 5 minutes she sits up, the fluid streaming off her body, spitting out her breathing tube and removing the link from her spinal inplants.
Across the room from her, a young Amarrian sits up and grins at her, she cuts off his comment before he has chance to begin "I dont want to hear it Nick," "You did pretty well there Incarn8, pity you dont check your back so often" "Yeah, yeah if you wernt trying to creep up behind me all the time in the lockeroom you wouldnt be so damn good at it"
An older True Amarrian walks into the VR room, "enough time for reflectons on your performance later, now you are required in your Theology Sessions, Miss Incarn8 you will see the Abbot regarding yesterdays outburst before you retire for supper" "Yes Master" replies the girl, slicking back her long black hair as she steps out of the capsule heading for the showers.
Cold barren landscape, hard dark rocks clash against a background of pulverised dust,
A glint of reflected light,
A body, clad in a lightweight armoured suit lies in a shallow trench, covered in a light coating of the dark dust,
A hand twitches, fingers unfurl and then reclench, the facemask begins to demist and the features of a young Khanid girl are revealed.
Her head is still spinning, she attempts to recollect her thoughts as her suit runs diagnostics on life support and all the other myiriad of functions it provides.
She blinks, the suit returns all is well, along with a prompt to get off her ass and start running.
"Wait, what?" the fog in her mind clears, that last shell was close, far too close, she rolls onto all fours and crawls deeper into the trench, just in time too, a second salvo of shells lands scattering more dust across the landscape.
"Is there anyone out there?" her voice breaks out across the comm net, silence, noone left? or could their transmission equipment be damaged or jammed?.
"Ahh well, looks like its down to me again", crouching she creeps up to the lip of the trench, springing up over the lip, well over the lip, an alarm sounds in the suit she curses, "damn it, low grav" eventually she drops back down well beyond the trench and row of low craters beyond that. Settling into a long striding bounce the defenders seem to awaken, short puffs of dust spring up around her ankles on landing, chips of rock pininging off her smooth shin armour. Away from the ground her matt black suit hides her form against the blackness of space, the only evidence of her passing the eclipsing of stars behind her body. Closer to the horizon the setting of the sun blinding her opponents as she scrabbles low over the crests of the shallow craters pockmarking the terrain.
Arriving at the opposing trench she rises into the air on a final bound, tossing a short fused EMP grenade onto her approximation of where her targets crouched. A short flash, her suit regestering the LADAR echoes and pin pointing the position of the 5 reflecting enemy suits. 2 of them recieving direct hits from the EMP were in shutdown and going through a full system reset, they were as good as out of the battle already. Unholstering her laser pistol, the first shots raining down before she herself landed on the reverse edge of the trench, one figure falls down, venting gass from its neck, two others dive for cover from the as of yet unseen assailant.
Touchdown. small clouds of dust escape from beneath her feet. Putting a quick shot into both of the prostrate suits stunned by the EMP, "Sorry guys, but you would have done the same for me."
One of the figures has misgudged his dive for cover, he lies at her feet, looking up he recieves a blast of invisible laser energy through his visor. "too easy mate, far too easy" a quick snort of derision before she too ducks and dives for the cover of a fixed autogun position, chips of rock spraying into the sky. The second figure has recovered his composure, sporadic bursts from his rifle keep her head down.
"16, 20, 24, 28.... reloading, now," leaping into the air, a quick burst of her suits jet "not too much, I'm not allowed to leave this hell hole just yet" summersaulting at apogee, another burst and she is headed for the ground, her victim a perfect shot, one in the leg, one in the chest, "not text book, but it will do", rolling on landing, she stands to inspect her handywork, "Five nil guys, that was to ...."
The slug rips through the thin rear armour of her lower back, tearing through internal organs before erupting through her right breast. "eughh " blood splatters across the interior of her visor as she drops to her knees, vital atmosphere (along with fairly inportaint body parts) are venting through the tear in her suit. falling onto her face, she dies.
The screen goes dark.
Rebel Victory. 6 kills to 5
The VR machine releases its grasp on her conciousness, clearing the fog from her mind for what seems like the second time in 5 minutes she sits up, the fluid streaming off her body, spitting out her breathing tube and removing the link from her spinal inplants.
Across the room from her, a young Amarrian sits up and grins at her, she cuts off his comment before he has chance to begin "I dont want to hear it Nick," "You did pretty well there Incarn8, pity you dont check your back so often" "Yeah, yeah if you wernt trying to creep up behind me all the time in the lockeroom you wouldnt be so damn good at it"
An older True Amarrian walks into the VR room, "enough time for reflectons on your performance later, now you are required in your Theology Sessions, Miss Incarn8 you will see the Abbot regarding yesterdays outburst before you retire for supper" "Yes Master" replies the girl, slicking back her long black hair as she steps out of the capsule heading for the showers.
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