Short Fiction #5 - My Ode de Star Fraction
First off, let me apologize for my actions recently (especially to Tatsue, doesn't mean I like you, but I shouldn't act like a child). This is a game, and however you guys love to stir the pot and get us all riled up, I need to continue to have fun with my $15 a month.
THEREFORE, I wrote chapter five in my Vitae Meus.
This is not meant as a slam or anything of the sort, this is simply another chapter in the life of Tarm (it just happens to include an anonymous anarchist).
Let's roleplay, shall we?
The only thing visible from the viewport against the ink-black curtain of space was a single blinking light; a beacon of life enveloped in a blanket of void. The life-pod was such a complicated solution to a simple dilemma; the answer to the age old question of the after-life. Life-pods offer their pilots everlasting life, while also extending their bodies from their own frail form into a citadel of power. Most citizens can only dream of such a blessing, yet they often fail to understand the burden that comes bundled with such strength.
The Zealot-class cruiser, TES Bellum, approached the life-pod with both webifier and warp disrupting batteries active. Tarm watched the nearing egg-shaped vessel with almost a sad interest, knowing the future that awaited the pilot within. The doomed individual was part of a loosely formed “alliance” made up of anarchist pilots that held ideals similar to the misguided Matari “freedom” fighters. They saw the Empire as a faction in need of destruction due to what they called “expansionism” and, as such, had bribed Concord to allow attacks on the Emperor’s paramilitary institutions. While they had started with small hit-and-run tactics, they soon started an all-out offensive against Amarrian holdings. The assault had not been taken lightly by the warriors of God, and the fighting became extremely bloody very quickly.
The anarchist’s ship had been a taranis-class interceptor, one of the latest in Gallentean guerrilla warfare technology, and it had gone down easily. Pride had taken the pilot far too close to the Bellum, an error he was now most certainly regretting. Laser fire had split the ship’s hull cleanly in half, from port to starboard, before it detonated into a spray of expensive shrapnel. The memory of the explosion had reminded Tarm of the destruction of the holy ship and life of one of his allies, caused by the very pilot he was going to meet very soon. Anger welled up in place of sadness as he recalled the pain his brother in God had gone through at the cloning vats. Wrath would be visited upon the wretched soul in the life-pod; “an eye for an eye”, indeed.
Docking clamps secured the ellipse and Tarm set course for Amarr. Mild vertigo caused by warp velocity washed through him as he strode off the bridge and down the narrow corridors towards the cargo bay. Two of the Enlightened bowed with vapid expressions as he walked past. He would have to speak with their trainer, he thought to himself, as they are far too uninterested in the work of God. As doors enclosed the lift that would carry him to his face-to-face encounter with the enemy, Tarm adjusted his cloak and murmured a quick prayer for the damned.
The life-pod hung suspended in the middle of the bay, revolving on an invisible axis supported by drive systems that Tarm still did not fully understand. Kamieras surrounded the capsule with laser rifles held ready, awaiting orders from their Master. Tarm swiftly raised his hand and crooked a finger towards the capsule before letting it fall back at his side. Somewhere above him a member of the Enlightened engaged the gravity-field destabilizer and the life-pod hummed in protest. Two robotic limbs stretched from the top of the cargo bay, extending themselves enough to latch on and start working through the hull of the life-pod with small cutting lasers.
With a loud cracking sound the capsule split in half, dropping the lower section 5 meters to the deck. Dark blue fluid spattered a random pattern surrounding the broken craft and sprawling pilot. Wires and cabling connected the lone figure to the two halves of the sphere, dangling him head-first a good meter from the deck. Kamieras stood ready, but Tarm signaled them to remain at their positions and walked casually to the struggling pilot, avoiding the scattered gelatin-like globs as he approached.
“You’ll regret this, slaver!” the captive screamed while still vainly trying to free himself from the tangle that ensnared him. “If you hurt me my friends will hunt you down until the day you die!”
Tarm reached out and grabbed the inverted wretch by the neck and used his implant-enhanced strength to rip him from his prison. The sound of the pilot’s back slamming onto the deck was accompanied by the sharp snap of his spine. His eyes darted around the bay frantically while the remainder of his body remained still. His breathing became ragged as blood started slowly draining from his left nostril. Tarm placed his booted foot on the anarchist’s chest and pulled his personal laser pistol from the holster at his side. The sidearm was a gift from Vice-Admiral Gracchus, a long time friend in the battle against the Minmatar and anarchist rabble. A fitting use, he thought as placed the end of the barrel just above the prisoner’s left eye socket.
“It seems as though the self-proclaimed Post-Humanist is about to have a lesson in being truly Post-Human.”
The anarchist’s eyes whipped in panic to the large cable dangling from the center of the life-pod; the cable that connects the brain to the capsule’s brain pattern recording interface; the cable that ensures a usable brain pattern for a new clone. Blood bubbled from his mouth as his scream came out as a whisper.
“May God have mercy on your soul, for I shall not.”
You don't have to like me Tarm, too many people do that already.
But yeah, an apology might be good from my end too, I did allow myself to get a bit more into heat than I should have. Will give that a read as soon as some corpy stuff is done.
Guts and clenched teeth.
(And educative: nobody's ever gonna forget to press "self-destruct" after that! )
Keep'em comin' mate.