Another enemy territory secured. It’s been much harder as of late. The Amarr are really on top of their game. And with the internal struggles our militia has been facing, the risk of loss has increased dramatically with each mission. The coronation of their empress has really been a positive boost for them, much to my dismay.

A few of my crew and I were descending in a lift, fresh from the military hangar we had berthed in. There wasn’t going to be much downtime as we were needed out on the frontlines again, and soon.

While the lift descended, I reached my beefy hand up to massage my strained neck. I’d been feeling a bit stiff lately. That tends to happen with age and stress.

The monitor in the front of the lift caught my attention.

“Heroes like General Sasawong, who continually push forward the glory of the Minmatar Republic, advancing our ideals against the hated Amarr, freeing more of our people each and every day.”

I chuckled to myself as a very out of date image of Sasawong appeared. Poor sucker. I guess our politicans had decided on a path to counter all the hype surrounding the publically broadcasted coronation ceremony. I tuned out the monitor, my mind concerned with more pressing issues, as we reached our destination.

The monitor caught my eye again as the lift doors opened.

“Heroes like Colonel Roc Wieler, brave fleet commander of the Republic, scourge of the dreaded Amarr…”

Oh hell no.

But it was too late. The doors had opened, and I was assaulted by a thousand camera flashes.

I don’t know how word spread so quickly that we were in the station, or what lift we were on, but standing before me was my worst nightmare. You may have guessed by now, but I’m not a horribly social person. So to lay my eyes to rest on the crowd of hundreds crammed into the narrow hallway on this level of the station was not something I was excited about.

“Roc! Give me your autograph!”

“It’s him! It’s the Mad Dog!”

“Roc! I’ll have your babies!”

Sweet mother of all. I repeatedly hit the close button on the lift, awkwardly smiling and waving to the crowd. I really wasn’t in the mood for this. Unfortunately, the crowd was already barring the doors. There was no escape as they reached for me, clinging to me, as if I were some kind of saviour. I wondered if Sasawong was the one chuckling now.

My crewmates weren’t helping any, cheering along with the crowd, pushing me towards them. They obviously weren’t thinking of how badly I was going to beat them when this was over.

The next couple of hours were spent with pen and paper shoved in my face, along with other various body parts, and me signing autographs. It was completely degrading; until I saw her.

There she stood. Even if the crowd were ten times its size, I would’ve noticed her. Flaming red hair, strong tribal markings on her face. She stood quietly, not caught up in the hysteria surrounding us both. She caught my eye, and even with my sunglasses on, I knew she was looking directly at me. She had the bearing of a warrior, and moreso, a pilot. Undoubtedly she was a capsuleer.

I pushed my way towards her, breaking free of the clawing fans that slowed my every step. The mysterious woman smiled ever so slightly, and I was determined to meet her. She held up a camera as I approached, and the flash momentarily blinded me. 

As the spots in my eyes cleared, she was standing much closer to me than I had anticipated. I could smell her sweetness. She handed me the photo.

“One pilot to another. Could you make this out to the Hellcats?” She didn’t sound like a crazy teenaged girl meeting her idol of the week. In fact, I wasn’t sure if she was going to attack me, kiss me, or spit on me. I was completely stunned.

I took her pen, and signed the message. She smiled, saluted, turned on one heel, and walked away. I never even had the chance to ask her name. What a minx.