'For now, you can stay in these quarters. You are free to move about as much as security permits' the Gallente man, who had introduced himself as Cedrien Roucellis, told her.
The quarters in question were anything but appealing. A small cube dominated by a viewport into space on one side. Light from a white-dwarf star outside made the run-down spartan lodging seem even more plain and bereft of atmosphere. A sleeping bunk on one side, accompanied by some sparse metal furnishings. A small shower and restroom recessed into the opposite wall. The food dispenser and simple table they were sitting at, rounded the arrangement off. A typical example of dispassionate Caldari mass-production. The nondescript coverall Sylera had been given to replace the disposable sickbay tunic, even made her look like an integral part of this impersonal space.
'Once we chance on an exit that leads to Amarr space, we will escort you there and you can return to your former life.' Cedrien said with a tone that expressed how glad he would be to have this unwelcome chore behind him.
Sylera felt a small surge of anger well up inside her. 'How typical of a Gallente to see everyone else just as a burden' she thought while she contained her feelings. 'I still owe those people respect for the decisions they made on my behalf' she reminded herself inwardly. ' I thank you for your help, Captain Roucellis. I will see to it personally that you are rewarded for it.'
'Well, we can always need more ISK.' he stated simply, as he got up and straightened his old Federal Navy uniform jacket, which bore no insignia. The title captain was clearly an indication of function rather than rank here. 'Make yourself at home, it could take a few days time until we find a suitable route.' Cedrien added before he left.
'So he's a mercenary after all.' Sylera noted with disappointment 'Material reward is but a symbol for the worthiness of a task. The righteous will forgo it for the glory of achieving virtuous ends' she remembered a passage from the scripture.
***
Sylera had spent the last two days exploring the dreary repetitiveness of this Caldari station, as far as the security protocols would allow her to. 'In all efforts thou shalt reflect the grace of god's creation' was a quote that had come to her mind. To the Caldari, beauty meant nothing. All they aspired to was efficiency and functionality. The Gallente at least understood about beauty and aesthetics, but they wasted it on their frivolous hedonistic lifestyle. And the Minmatar … the Minmatar were just scroungers.
With reflections like these, interrupted by times of prayer, as well as physical and mental exercise to aid her re-convalescence, Sylera had spent her time.
With reflections like these, interrupted by times of prayer, as well as physical and mental exercise to aid her re-convalescence, Sylera had spent her time.
Now she had an idle period ahead of her, and so she returned to the one spot which offered some inspiration. That place was the main hall of the habitation deck. It had a wall-sized viewport to the isolated region of space outside. Wide enough to show the full spectacle of cataclysmic interplay between the two stars outside. Sitting on an unavoidably simple bench, Sylera looked out at the hazy mass of the giant red star and allowed her eyes to drift along the veil of glowing matter that was spun from it's outer shell by the pull of the white dwarf. Eventually this cloud of solar vapour braided into strands which finally spiraled into an accretion disk around the cold ember of the small supermassive sun.
'It is possible that eventually this system will start a runaway fusion, shedding so much matter from the red star that it's impact on the white dwarf could cause a nova explosion' a silken voice said from behind her. It carried a hint of weird amusement in the statement, despite it's catastrophic implications.
Sylera started and looked up over her shoulder at a soft-featured face that carried both detached amusement and dark intensity in it's large almond eyes. She had never seen this woman before, and something about her immediately disturbed Sylera.
'Yes we have not met.' the other woman said, her obvious Gallente accent gave the words a smooth inflection. It made her voice even more uncannily compelling 'My name is Sandrielle' the woman added, as she walked around Sylera like a sleek predator sizing up potential prey, and finally took a seat next to her. 'What do you see out there disciple?' she asked wistfully, using the title given to students in Imperial capsuleer training.
'I assume you already know who I am?' Sylera ignored the question and tried to hide the nervousness she felt because of the acute statements and deep gaze of the Gallente woman. It was as if her very personality was peeled away in layers under the scrutiny of those dark eyes.
Sandrielle nodded and displayed a cryptic half-smile on her face.'I rather wonder whether you still know who you are.'
'What in the name of the Lord's hosts is she talking about?' Sylera wondered at the strangely perplexing statement 'What do you mean?' she asked with more annoyance than puzzlement forced into her voice, but inwardly she also now felt a sense of inexplicable dread at those words.
'Well, we shall all find that out soon.' Sandrielle got up and tilted her head at the elevator bay
'Come' she offered a hand to help Sylera get up, as if she were a good friend or sibling 'We have found a suitable exit that leads to a border system of the Amarr Empire. It turns out that forces of the 24th Crusade are stationed there at the moment.'
Without even knowing why she did it, Sylera took the outstretched hand and watched the slender but strong fingers of the Gallente woman close around hers. Some vague intuition inside of her gave rise to a feeling of being caught in a grasp that she would never again be able to slip from.
No comments:
Post a Comment