ENROUTE TO DAL

Maleatu reclined in the comfortable chair, his body seeming to sink into the fabric itself. He leaned his Khuumak against the arm rest, and let out a long sigh. 

Our journey had been a quiet one, the Sanmatar having invited himself aboard my Rifter for the journey home. I didn’t envy his life in the public eye; my own fifteen minutes of fame was nothing compared to the constant scrutiny his every action was held accountable to. As if reading my mind, he spoke.

“Ah, the welcome quiet. There are days, my friend, when I fantasize of a life without politics.” He held a warm and disarming smile on his face as he spoke, making it easy to see why he was such a powerful and charismatic man to contend with.

“Is there truly such a thing?” I asked rhetorically. Politics affected every aspect of every being in the galaxy, willingly or not. It was all a trickle down effect; the decisions made by government leaders, whom could never do anything right by the masses, inevitably defining the standards by which all other conclusions were based. 

He chuckled, merriment ringing in his laughter. “Spoken like a true politician, Colonel. Answer the question with an equally vague and perplexing question. Are you certain you haven’t been dabbling in my arena?”

He looked right at me, though I knew it was but an illusion. The Sanmatar was blind, having refused the corrective procedure to heal his eyes many years ago. It was public record that it wasn’t an act to endear respect amongst the Brutor clans, rather that he wanted to honour and respect his ancestral line whom didn’t have the option of surgery under the oppressive hand of the Amarr.

Still, his blank stare was disconcerting, and I once again found myself wondering if there was much more to the man than he let on. I had been vocal recently, at least within my own circles, about my idealistic views and how I thought certain aspects of the Republic should be run, but without a doubt I knew none of those things left closed doors or drunken mouths. Besides, I highly doubted there were any that would take the political ramblings of a pod jockey seriously.

“I prefer direct confrontation, Sanmatar; knowing whom my enemy is and forming my tactics accordingly. I am not one for subterfuge and hidden agendas. I cannot imagine the weight you bear, having plans within plans all for the betterment of our people.”

I did hold Maleatu in the highest regard and reverence. He was a man of true legend, his conquests prior to his rise to the rank of Sanmatar no less impressive than his political prowess. If there was any man to lead the Republic into a bright and secure future, it was him.

“You sell yourself short, Colonel. You are a proven tactician on the battlefield, and a confident public speaker. I still smile sometimes when I recall your address to the general assembly a few months ago. I truly didn’t know what to expect of you and yet you surpassed any vision I could have imagined for that occasion. You had the Matari frothing at the mouth for vengeance against the Amarr; it was simply inspirational. 

That is not something that can be learned or taught, in my opinion. There are those born to lead, and those born to follow. It is my belief that if you are truly honest with yourself my friend, you will see that even the stars themselves are not vast enough to contain your potential.”

I flushed crimson and was thankful he could not see it. The Sanmatar was the highest level of authority to all Minmatar, and befit of the highest honours. His words pierced me to my core, not because I believed they were true, but because I could tell from his sincerity that he did, and that shamed me greatly. 

I was a soldier. Yes, I commanded others, but I answered to the Tribal Liberation Force leadership. My goal had never been to gain a broader sphere of influence, but to simply be the best that I could personally be; honourable, dedicated, loyal, able. If I was to be any type of role model to the younger recruits joining the militia and Freeform Industries, it would be by the virtues I lived daily, not because of any ideals or beliefs I held privately.

Maleatu interrupted my troubled thoughts. 

“You are more quiet than usual, Colonel. It seems I may have touched upon a nerve. If I have given offence, for that I apologize, but know you well the words I speak are truth, and I hope in time that you will come to accept them as such. Now, onto more light hearted subject matter, if you please.”

He rose an empty glass from the arm rest of the chair, shaking it lightly, a broad and friendly smile across his face. I took the glass from him, found one myself, and poured us both a stiff drink.

I pulled a nearby chair closer to his, and settled in.

“Sanmatar, I thank you for your words. You honour me by them. I will not say that what you put forward hasn’t crossed my mind; that perhaps I could make more of a difference to our people, for it has. Yet I am a soldier, and find fulfillment in this life fighting on the front lines against our enemy. It is what I know. It is what I do. And without false modesty, I know there are far better educated persons to which the political life would be more suited.”

“Education you say, Colonel?” Maleatu snickered, but not with derision. “Education does have its place, I will attest to that much. But it’s experience and passion that mold the minds of men, not a degree in socioeonomics. It is how a man acts, not what he knows that drives others to follow him. May I tell you what I see when I look at you, Colonel?”

I took a long draw from my drink. It didn’t even occur to me that a joke existed about a blind man willing to tell me what he saw. I felt at an unexplainable crossroads in my life; so many things had been spinning out of my control lately, and I was torn in multiple directions simultaneously. Perhaps the Sanmatar could help me find focus once again.

“I would be humbled and grateful, Sanmatar.” I said sincerely, leaning back into my chair.

In retrospect, those next few hours did end up being pivotal to my life in New Eden, the Sanmatar’s words forever changing my perspective, driving me forward towards a path that would prove to be my ultimate undoing.