We all remember our first time…

For me, it was 30 months ago, almost to the day, that my true destiny began. I was working as a freelance shuttle pilot back then, and was damned proud of it. Having the skill to fly any sized ship required a great deal of proficiency, and I seemed to take to it with a shine.

I had even applied for capsuleer training. After several months, I was accepted. It was the most intensive training I had ever undergone. The physical demands were exhaustive, even to a Brutor, while the mental stresses left me clutching my skull some nights. Even my emotions would escape me at times, leaving me curled up in a ball on my dorm room floor, weeping. That particular experience happened after I was fitted for a pod.

It was my first assignment. I was given a brand new Reaper class ship, and assigned an escort duty of some low ranking diplomat across seven high security systems. I accepted with great enthusiasm of course, thankful to be moving forward in my life. I had come from a hard upbringing, but had made myself into the man I am today through consistent effort, strong self belief, and natural abilities I thank God for everyday. 

Thirty seven minutes later, we were ready to depart. 

It was an expectedly boring trip. Just the same, I wanted to make an impression with my passenger, who could potentially refer me to better paying gigs. I wanted a Rapier Covert Ops vessel, and those weren’t cheap.

We were two uneventful systems away from our destination system. Still nothing. There was the usual local traffic in each system, but nothing of note. I could see them out there, other capsuleers, in their magnificent ships. I wanted to touch them, be like them, be recognized by them. They were so close. So close. Close.

I was too slow on the uptake back then. A frigate was hurtling towards us at a velocity I couldn’t escape. I did my best to react, but I froze up. I didn’t know what to do. This was completely unexpected. I finally managed to get the guns online, but it was too late.

I was tumbling through space in my pod. My ship was destroyed, my passenger killed. I hadn’t even been able to give the warning call to abandon the small craft. I had failed.

I watched Concord warp into the exact point of our engagement, and quickly destroy my attacker. That gave me no joy at the time. I was too busy trying to figure out what to do. We had done pod training of course, but I couldn’t remember where I was supposed to go or how I was supposed to get there.

After ninety seconds of mental debate with myself, the proximity alarm sounded. The same class of frigate was within attack range. I saw the autocannons firing in quick succession. I was boned.

My essence was painfully torn from myself. My soul forcefully torn from its shell. I screamed until I went hoarse, and even then, continued to scream in silence for four additional minutes.

The first time hurt like hell.