It's been years since I've posted on this blog, let me break the silence with an EVE Online short story I recently wrote. Hope you enjoy! 😀
The True Path
by Mazer
"To know the true path, but yet, to never follow it.
That is possibly the gravest sin"
- The Scriptures, Book of Missions 13:21
He
had always disliked delivering directives and reports to this territory. It had been many years since his last visit,
hopefully he was not too late.
Spaceflight in this area of the cluster was risky enough for his liking,
doing it practically blind was almost out of the question. For the hundredth time during this voyage, he
offers up a short prayer to the Empress and to God. The roiling detritus surges against the
polyscreen of the flight deck, bringing back memories from his youth. The silvery oceans of Mekhios had always
produced the most dazzling mist. As a child
he would stand atop the cliffs overlooking the vast expanse of water and watch
the fog roll over his family's estate.
The soft and warming light from the Sarum Prime sun producing dancing
waves of colors over the gloom. This
caress of reminiscence is short lived as his scanner emits another high shrill,
snapping him back to the present.
Most
of his sensors could not penetrate anything inside of this stellar fog, and
they consistently reminded him of his present danger. Although, he would do anything for his
Empress, anything for his God. If this
meant flying into Raider space unarmed and alone, he would gladly lay down his
life. His zealotry in furthering the
goals of The Empire knew no bounds. Even
if none but a select few knew the importance of his labors. “God sees, God knows, and God rewards.” This proverb ever in his mind as he had
helped to carry out sabotage, assassinations, and countless deeds throughout
his years of service. What he liked to
think of as his "true path."
The
disorienting screen of metallic dust finally dissipates enough to glean sight
of his destination. The jet-black orb
emanates a sense of secrecy more dubious than the surrounding nebula, of which
he is at the center. Nothing but silence
greets him as he pilots his shuttle to within a few hundred meters of the
massive onyx sphere. He begins to
manually pulse a series of radio bursts at specific frequencies and
intervals. He performs this “knock” with
all possible intent and focus. One
ill-timed pulse or one off-beat signal and in a matter of moments he will
become nothing but dust and gas himself.
At least he would die content knowing the ashes of this vessel would be
added to the surrounding cloud, helping to conceal one of The Empire’s greatest
secrets. He is well practiced. After 77 perfectly timed radio bursts the
opening of the station’s iris signal his acceptance into the transneural
research facility of the Veiled Order.
***
Director
Magus stands near the airlock awaiting his arrival. His imperious stature belies any sense of
anxiety that he should rightly feel. Not
often does a retainer of The Empress make personal house calls this far from
Amarr Prime. Before stepping out of his
vessel our man dons his headdress. The
cap is burnished copper and bears the sigil of a six-winged eye, signifying his
status as a Seraphim agent of the Tash-Murkon Royal Family. Along with the apparent stature this garment
brings, it serves another, much more useful purpose.
“Legate Sergius, to what do I owe the pleasure
of your esteemed presence?” Magus' low timbre voice questions.
“The
Empress wishes to know of your progress and how close you are to operational
readiness. I was sent to observe and evaluate the throne’s continued
involvement in this endeavor”
The
director furrows his brow, “We are progressing ahead of schedule, as I am sure
you are well aware. We begin trials with our recent captured later this
afternoon. I don't understand, when I
last spoke with Her Majesty, she was enthusiastic about our progress. We are now closer than ever to achieving our
goal."
Sergius takes a moment to
gather his thoughts, the unshakeable outward bearing he carries is an
impenetrable wall of stone.
The
director's manner begins to crumble under the pale golden gaze of the Seraphim. Sweat beads on his forehead and the
steadiness of his breath falters. He
thinks to himself, "Those eyes do not belong to a man, but a lion." A verse sprouts into his consciousness, as if
delivered from God Himself, "Be on alert, for your enemy stalks about as a
lion, seeking those whom he may consume."
"Do
not be troubled," Sergius continues, "Her Majesty's ardor for your
endeavor is why she has sent me to oversee the final stages. I will be in attendance during your trials
this coming afternoon. Send for me as
soon as you are ready to begin. I look
forward to witnessing your achievements."
"Yes Legate, it will
be my honor. Shall I prepare a room for
you?" The subtle change to
servility in Magus' tone pleases Sergius.
"Unnecessary, I will
retire to my shuttle while I await your call."
With
fluid and precise movements, the Seraphim agent turns back through the airlock
and re-enters his transport. Once
inside, he passes the time by running a series of diagnostic checks on his
equipment. Both the mechanical and
acutely expensive biological.
***
Approximately three hours
later he receives a summons to the primary transneural testing laboratory
within the station. A series of small
electronic signs illumine his path along the labyrinth of intersecting hallways
and dimly lit corridors. The guide-signs
are appreciated, but superfluous. The
detailed layouts of almost every classified Amarrian outpost are stored away in
his mind. When he arrives at the
laboratory Director Magus is already waiting outside the entrance.
"Shall we
begin?" he stoops with a turning open of his left hand, a fawning gesture.
"Yes, for the glory
of The Empress," Sergius replies, again pleased with the director’s subservience.
"For the glory of The
Empress."
Over
the course of some hours Sergius oversees a team of the best Amarrian
neurological scientists carry out their experiment. Their subject matter that of the most illegal
and taboo activities in all the galaxy. Sergius
is no stranger to abetting distasteful activity when it serves his purpose, but
this makes him particularly nervous. The
scientists are attempting to perfect a method of clone hijacking, one which can
subvert and overwrite an encrypted burst transmission of a dying capsuleer's
consciousness. If perfected, it would
allow Amarrian agents to hijack the clones of enemy capsuleers, providing one
of the greatest advantages in covert operations since the invention of the
cloaking device. If their work was found
out it would mean dire consequences for The Empress and the Amarrian Empire as
a whole. The CONCORD Directive
Enforcement Department would come down like a hammer. Sergius is keenly aware of the ramifications as
he observes.
Three
capsuleers; two Minmatar, and one Gallente, are carried in on stretchers. They are sedated and their bodies are tightly
bound. Sergius has a moment of
uncharacteristic anxiety at the sight. His
fingers begin to twitch, seemingly involuntarily, but he steadies himself and
watches on. The lengths at which Magus
had to go to obtain these capsuleers was profound. Each one of them has wealth and power beyond
the imagining of most individuals. They
conduct themselves as gods in their dealings with the citizenry of New Eden, in
both blessing and wrath.
“Do you ever contemplate the
danger of what you are doing here, Magus?”
“Why should we worry? We have the full support of The Throne”
“The Empire isn’t
invincible” Sergius coolly responds.
Magus turns to him with a stern expression, pursed lips and glaring eyes. The apostacy in the comment bothers him, but he
keeps his silence.
The kidnapped capsuleers are
placed one-by-one in modified boxes designed to emulate the conditions of a
capsuleer pod. The Transneural Echo Burn Scanners (TEBS) attached at the heads
of each box are easy enough to identify.
Exact clonal copies of the prisoners have been placed on the other side
of the room. Each of these clones is
meant to be the recipient of a consciousness matching that of the capsuleers. The absolute vacancy in the open-eyed stares
of the empty clones is chilling. It is
enough to make Sergius contemplate at the nature of one’s soul. Three Amarrian volunteers are escorted into
the room, they look scared, but at the same time, resolute. The promises made to them and their families
must have been lavish. They are each
guided to and then bound to chairs with their own TEBS. Director Magus begins to expound on all the
details of the procedure, as if Sergius was not already intensely aware. Magus first reassures him that his modified
TEBS are not connected to the CONDORD relay system, thus protecting the
equipment from detection. He explains
the greatest difficulty in overcoming the hijack of a clone, or "clone-jack",
is the residual consciousness of the “victim”.
The issue is something that has taken the team months to troubleshoot,
but Magus thinks they have found a way to effectively overwrite the personages
of their intended targets. Numerous
tests have proven fatal, but they are never in short supply of ready
volunteers. The casualness of Magus’
disregard for fellow Amarrians disgusts Sergius. Today is the first time they are attempting
the test with "meaningful subjects."
***
"I
wish to congratulate you all on your success!
I will be leaving post-haste to personally deliver the news to The Empress." Cheers
and applause from the scientists; a smug look of victory and content washes
over Magus' face.
"Although,
before I depart, I want inform you that this technology which you have mastered
will not be employed."
"What?!
Who gives you the authority?!" the director shouts as his mood rapidly
declines from self-approving to that of rage. The scientists all go still,
their expressions a mix of confusion and nervousness. "I know for certain The Empress wishes
to use the power we have harnessed. It
has been her desire since she took the throne!"
Sergius
calmly replies, "Yes. It has, and I will not allow Her to reach this
goal. The culpability She risks is too
great, I must protect Her and The Amarrian Empire from themselves."
Magus
raises his voice yet louder, "Blasphemy! You dare question the will of Her
Majesty?! You will suffer for this; your title will not protect you! Seraphim agent that you are, you will face
punishment and burn!"
Sergius
affixes his lion's gaze on the director.
As he begins to reply to the diatribe, he is also twitching his fingers,
seemingly involuntarily. Twitching his
fingers in a particular pattern with a specific timing. Left index, 0.4 seconds, right pinkie, 1.3
seconds, right index, 0.7 seconds...; he must be careful. One ill-timed twitch and all will be
lost. He would be stripped of his
titles, shamed, and tortured before being put to death. Worst of all, it would be an end to his
service to his Empress and to his God.
"No,
I will not, you will burn Director Magus, and anyone who threatens the safety
of The Empire." He finishes the
finger-twitching sequence with perfection.
After all, he is well practiced.
He
smirks as the nuclear device he carries inside his specially modified clone
begins to prime and the Transneural Echo Burn Scanner within his headdress
snapshots his brain, tight-beaming it to the nearest relay. A few minutes later the radioactive dust of
the research station begins to add itself to the growing nebula. Sergius awakens in his new bodily vessel, ready
to continue his journey of service down The True Path.
***