This is a collection of short in-character fiction pieces about Awakened Industries, a group of capsuleers and their crews living in the enigmatic and dangerous regions of Wormhole Space in EVE Online. None of the protagonists are actual characters or corporations in-game. All similarities with persons fictional or real are possibly coincidental and only sometimes intentional. - Emergent Patroller

For an introduction to this blog refer to this link. You may also want to check out the guide for new readers

: The stories on this blog contain mature themes involving sexuality and violence and are not suitable for minors or sensitive people.

15 May 2012

14 - Deliverance

The medical lab was one of the few sections in this devastated station where life support was still active. The way which lead them there from the nearest airlock had taken Alira and Keram past sceneries which could only be described as the results of a homicidal rampage.

'Was all that killing part of your restoration program?' Keram wondered over helmet comms while he dragged the corpse of a guard out of the way. The man's skull was nothing more than a jagged ruin. A laser turret had burned away most of his head.

Alira shook her head stiffly inside the pressure suit she wore. She was busy overriding a circuit behind an opened wall panel in an effort to activate the emergency airlock outside the medical facility's entrance 'I used the procedures I had lifted from the original system.' she replied. 'I included a neural mapping from her last ship's pod backup.' she fidgeted with a tool not quite suited for her gloved hands. 'Basically it should have reversed the process of her reconditioning, and make her wake up to full consciousness.'

Keram let go of the body and looked down the corridor marked with laser burns and littered with more corpses. 'I guess she must have one hell of a temper when woken up.' he remarked dryly and then turned his helmeted head back to the Sebiestor engineer. 'How are you doing there? The lock is clear.' He picked up his gun and walked over to Alira who muttered a curse.

'How about you try a bypass on those micro-optronics while stuck in a pressure suit.' she bit back at the Amarrian.

Then she closed another circuit and the status lights on the small console came to life. The whine of servo motors became audible and the emergency pressure lock finally closed off the corridor. The low thrumming noise of pumps and the hiss of airflow indicated successful repressurization. Keram checked an environmental multimeter on his suit's wrist.

'Air pressure and oxygen levels nominal' he announced after a few seconds.

Alira disengaged the seal of her helmet and set it down on her toolkit. 'Right! Now on to overriding that next door ...' she stated with resolve and ran a gloved hand through her short red hair.


Keram nervously toted his gun. The place smelled of burned construction composites, scorched flesh and ozone. Destroyed instrument panels sputtered sparks and bled light from their optronic systems. The few still active consoles projected ghostly fluttering holograms. Flickering viewscreens lit up the smoke drifting through the laboratory. The subdued golden glow emanating from a shell-less pod in the centre of the medical facility was the only continuous source of light.

Alira had her pistol drawn as well, the toolkit slung. Slowly the two companions made their way towards the smoke enshrouded pod, spreading their fields of fire. They turned quickly every once in a while, to cover possible hiding-places behind furniture or consoles.

Arriving at the pod, Alira let her weapon sink and touched it's surface with a palm. With her eyes widened she stared at the floating torso inside. 'It's a man.' She breathed a sigh of relief, swallowed and curled her lips with revulsion 'He has been completely mutilated.'

'And he's still alive.' Keram added from his position at one of the few still intact medical status monitors.

'Let him be.' a frail voice hissed from the dark recesses of the medical lab.

Alira whirled around and pointed her gun in the direction of the unseen whisperer. 'Show yourself!' she commanded while Keram moved to cover her.

The pale figure that emerged from the shadows into the feeble light of the glowing pod hardly resembled the young Amarrian beauty Sylera had been. Her long hair was still caked in strands to her face and body. The once fine features of her face now had a hardness to them that made it look like a sharp edged porcelain mask rather than a human visage. Her eyes were cold embers set into this stony countenance.

'Leave him.' she snarled through clenched teeth. 'He does not deserve a quick death.'

Slowly Alira let her weapon drop and looked at the other woman with both relief and fearful uncertainty. ' Sylera, are you alright?' she asked haltingly.

Keram slung his gun and looked back at the amputated torso floating in the pod. 'Leave him like this?' he wondered with disbelief in his voice. 'Floating in there he'll be alive for as long as the pod fluid can replenish itself.' he shook his head 'That could be months even with the state this station is in.' He turned to look back at Sylera. 'Come on, let's just kill the bastard and be done with …'

'I said, leave him!' Sylera cut him off, and her voice tore through the room with an intensity that made contradiction impossible.

Wordlessly, with an awestruck expression, Alira turned to go and look for an emergency pressure suit.


In the liquid hell the angel had cast him into, Prakevi suffered for his sins. An eternity of atonement waited for him in this isolation. Forever, the memories of his misdeeds would be his only companions. That and the image of the angel. So pure and righteous in her wrath. She had taken apart his body and gave the ruin that remained eternal life, so his soul would be unfettered by the chains of mortality.

Shadows crept across the limits of what his eyes could still see in the murky glow of his personal limbo. A current stirred the liquid he floated in, and soon he was expelled from his fluid dungeon. He coughed up gooey phlegm after he landed hard on a cold floor. Was this a new stage in his trials?

A strong hand turned him over and he looked at a bald head covered in swirling black patterns. Was this one of the fallen who were tasked with chastising the sinners in their eternal damnation? A shadow fell over him. Another figure, wearing a heavy coat of glistening oily material. Bald and adorned with the same designs as the other.

The crouching one who had turned Prakevi over, looked at his companion. 'What shall we do with him?' he asked with a voice coloured by an unfamiliar accent.

'Kill him.' the other one replied coldly.

Prakevi understood. This was a test. A trial to see whether he was prepared to face the perdition he deserved. 'No!' He croaked hoarsely. 'I do not deserve death. The angel has condemned me to this. I must not reject my fate.'

The standing figure crouched beside the crippled scientist too, and looked at him with dark eyes. The patterns inked into his skin seemed to move and rearrange themselves on his gaunt face. 'What do you speak of.' he demanded with the same cold voice.

Prakevi smiled 'The angel from the realms beyond New Eden.' he insisted. 'Only she can set me free should she ever wish to return here through the portals that lead to the godly realms.'

The two bald figures looked at eachother. 'He knows.' the first one uttered with astonishment.

His companion nodded. 'He has been touched by a messenger.' he stated gravely. 'His words are prophecy.' he rose 'We shall take him with us.'

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