“Ok, good. You’re all here.” Cytral began, looking at the Officers of Freeform Academy seated around the table. There was one empty spot, mine, but a small holo projected a miniaturized version of me to the those assembled.

“Well, Roc is here virtually at least.” Cytral continued, a small chuckle rising from a few of those gathered.

“Cy,” I said, my voice sounding a little garbled from the subspace transmission. “You know I’d be there if I could.”

“Roc, let me make one thing clear to you and everyone else present.” Cytral said with his voice of authority, the telltale sign that a grand monologue was forthcoming.

“The corporation appreciates all the efforts you make in New Eden. Whether it’s for the Republic proper, or for FFI, you have always had our support. We might not say it as often as I’m sure you would like to hear, but thank you. You’re an integral part of our operations at home and abroad, and we’re proud to have you with us.” 

A murmur of agreement sounded from the voices around the room.

Cytral continued,”You are our Fleet Commander. You are the Combat Training Officer of our new Academy. You have shown loyalty, aptitude, and time and again been nothing but a valuable asset to the cause of all Matari. I’m ok not knowing where you are all the time, or what you are doing, because we all know that no matter where or what, you always have the best interests of our people at heart.”

More murmurs of agreement arose from the group.

Doc Gigawatts spoke up. “And one day, we’ll even get you mining!” A chorus of laughter ensued. Once the merriment had died down, Cytral continued.

“You’ve committed to this Academy, Roc, as have you all. The only question I have for each of you today is to reaffirm that committment to this venture. If you want out, now is the time to say so.”

Everyone grew silent and introspective. We had all worked hard towards this Academy, this training mechanism for our new recruits. Some had worked harder than others to lay the foundation upon which we would build, but all of us had put in our ideas and energies to get this off the ground. I couldn’t think of any that would walk away now.

Cytral started the affirmations with his own verbal statement. One by one, around the room, each Officer of FFI swore his oath anew. I was the final one to re-confirm his dedication to the direction we were taking, and yet I hesitated for a moment.

It wasn’t that I didn’t want to do it. I had already prepared several practical lesson plans for my rookies. I was eager to teach them the harshness of survival in New Eden, anxiously looking forward to ripping some of their frigates out from under them to teach them how fast and chaotic combat could be. Yet still I hesitated.

Was I really in a position to commit to this? Was I really able to say when and where I could be with certainty? My military orders were given with little to no notice, and I always served the Republic faithfully before all else. Was I truly reliable?

“Roc,” Cytral began. “You having signal issues there bud?”

What if I failed? What if I let them down? What if I turned out to be a lousy fleet trainer? I suddenly found myself full of self doubt, full of insecurity. 

Maybe I myself needed training still. There were always new things to learn. Who was I to put myself in the position of “Master” when I was continually losing ships myself? There had to be a solution.

The silence in the room was growing uncomfortable for everyone.

“I’m good, Cy.” I said. “And I’m still committed one hundred percent to this.”

Cytral nodded, then carried on discussing various aspects of the Academy project, but I found myself lost in my own thoughts.

Who did I know that could test me? It would have to be someone I’d flown with before; someone that I could at least trust to not take advantage of the opportunity to boost his kill record with my name. I thought of the various pilots I had flown with in the war, General Sasawong, General Fist, Stoogie, and many others. None of them felt right, though I held each of them in high regard. I kept running through names in my mind, searching for the perfect fit to this puzzle.

Suddenly, the solution dawned on me. There was a man, the best Rifter pilot I’d ever flown with, a fellow Matari whose heart cried for freedom for our people as greatly as my own, though his methods were a stark contrast to my approach. Still, it would work.

Shhhhhh, be very quiet. I’m hunting frigates. It’s Wensley season.

Apparently I don’t follow good internet protocol; I now use [OOC] to officially indicate I am speaking out of character. I figured OOC was enough of an indication, but hey, what do I know?

I digress.

Since mentioning PyjamaSam and I will be attending Fanfest this year, I’ve seen a lot of fellow EVE Bloggers post that they too will be at the party. Additionally, I’ve also received some emails, instant messages, etc, etc, asking how anyone will know who I am?

I thought maybe I could wear a big “My name is Roc” badge (do they do anything like that already?) and that might make it easier.

One of my regular readers joked that I’m probably either the skinny scared kid in the corner or the big fat guy at the buffet.

Wrong on both counts.

I’ve decided to break the internet/reality barrier for this special occasion and post some pictures of the real me. Even gonna post it early for my friends in the UK.

See you at Fanfest.