|Posted - 2017.06.12 19:47:01 -
 - Quote
I was awoken by the ship's alarm sharply echoing through the corridor of my newly fitted purifier. My mind was playing tricks on me... How did I get here?
Without connecting the dots, I quickly came to and began to run to my pod. Mid-stride I heard a familiar sound as I was thrown against the wall. My instincts kicked in as I struggled to my feet to continue my flight, "definitely a torpedo" I thought. Eyes fixated on my pod; a sharp metal spike invaded my peripherals. Stopping dead in my tracks I watched as the spike moved and with every passing moment, it was as though an icy dagger severed each one of my nerves on it's final destination to my heart. I watched a chain of explosions resulting in the ejection of the mangled corpses of my previous fleet members. It is at times like these I grew angry at the mind's ability to slow down time during trauma. I was locked in a moment I had no control of, acutely aware of my fate, yet powerless to alter it. The deadly combination of missile and dislodged steel finally overtook my ship completely. I knew now who my executioner was....
Something was different; subtlely strange. Death is a common occurrence for a capsuleer. I understood the cycle well each time a lesson learned and a new body received. I was not in a new body...
Sharp pain pulsated through my skull, it hurt to think; I knew however that it was vital to do so. Returning to my training, I was able to make an educated evaluation of my condition without revealing my consciousness to my captor. I began to evaluate my condition.
I am not laying down I am suspended, it was at that moment that I realized I was submerged in something, my reflexes desired air, but my mind knew "something" had halted my death by drowning. Able to overcome my body's desire to gasp for air I continued my evaluation. Numerous lacerations were present made apparent by a change in body temperature in the afflicted areas as the liquid cooled the wounds. A sense of cold radiated from my forehead. I continued my investigation as to why when a sharp pain emanated from the targeted area, "you know you can open your eyes right?.."
Without moving a muscle, I battled my body's instinct to open my eyes. The voice continued, this time audibly, "Oh come on...you are no fun, lucky for you I like it this way better." In my head again I heard, "open" and without my permission, my eyes greeted a by dark steel room illuminated by industrial lights producing off-white luminescence. The entire room took on a blue hue which reasoning concluded was a result of the solution I was a part of at this point. Sharply contrasting my dread; the room I found myself in was remarkably clean and polished, reminiscent of my time in Jita. After my initial inspection of my surroundings, a figure materialized in the form of a tall bald man with piercing eyes and ridged facial features.
The figure touched the glass as if teasing me in my cylindrical coffin, and it was as though the environmental noise of the room stopped to hear what he had to say. The silence was deafening. His voice echoed not only in my skull but also audibly through the miasma, "It matters little now what you were before...You are allowed one last choice and do choose wisely....Slave? or Citizen?"