DEADSPACE
HEIMATAR REGION

“Today you will die, Roc Wieler, and it will be a great victory for the Empire. With the aid of our Caldari brethern, your name will be removed from the history books by my hand.”

My shields were depleted. My armour plates buckling, the repair systems unable to maintain themselves against the assault against me.

Over twenty Amarr and Caldari battleships continued their heavy fire against the Ripsack, my Rifter class frigate, as dozens of enemy frigates engaged me at point blank. All the while, three slave transports slowly pulled away from the battle, their cargo holds filled with my Matari kin.

“I will fight with my last breath, slaver, until the day when your vile and distorted views are no longer tolerated within any region of space. My voice is but one of many. And I shall be heard long after your corpse…” a salvo of missile fire slammed against my ship, tearing open the entire port forward strut. My hull was breached. The Rifter began to spin out of control from the impact.

I was at the end.

4 HOURS EARLIER

“Of course I’ll take your mission, agent.” I said. I had been pulled from a good sleep by the beeping of my NeoCom, something I detested. When I was off duty, I expected that to be respected unless hell itself was at the station’s door. As it turned out, the analogy wasn’t far off.

The Amarr were up to their old tricks, and were taking slaves here in Heimatar Region, right within Minmatar controlled space. I had to act fast.

I scrambled my flight team to ready my Rifter, the Ripsack, as I had pledged to only fly Rifter class ships that year, YC 113. As I raced towards my hangar, I was reminded of a recent comment made by my good friend Niko. “You know I respect you, Roc, but you’re a damned fool to be flying Rifters all year.”

He was probably right.

3 HOURS EARLIER

The remaining Caldari frigates scattered, fleeing into the safety of warp as I downed another of their squad. I knew the Amarr considered slavery an every day, acceptable occurrence. It bothered me profoundly that the State would be involved in such abhorrent practices. I contacted my agent right away to let him know of my findings; to receive my orders.

2 HOURS EARLIER

Cruisers and frigates fell before my rage. I was incensed from my very soul at the collaboration between the Amarr Empire and the Caldari State. They had been caught red-handed trading slaves in Minmatar space, yet still Concord did nothing. Our own government did nothing. Too much political fallout Shakor had said when pushed by the Senior Director of Ushra’Khan at my behest. In my anger I wondered when he had become such a neutered bull.

1 HOUR EARLIER

Still I couldn’t find the slave transports, and began to fear I would be too late. I knew firsthand the horrors that would be inflicted to these Matari at the hands of the Amarr, the dependency the Vitoc dependency they would be forced to endure, all in the name of God.

It sickened me. I tried to talk sense into the last damaged frigate commander of the Amarr/Caldari squad I had decimated, but their captain would not yield, sealing the fate of his crew. I erased them from space.

Scanning the wreckage, I was unable to find any clues regarding the location of the transports. Time was running out. My NeoCom beeped. It was my agent.

“Get yourself together, Wieler.” The agent said. “Our scouts have pinned the exact location of the slavers here in Rens. They’re moving slowly, covering those transports, and the window of opportunity is small. Do what is required to free those slaves, pilot.”

I warped through the vastness of space towards the coordinates provided. Two small squads of Caldari awaited me. I made short work of them, turning my attention to the large battleship fleet over 100 kilometers away.

It was unlikely that I would survive the encounter, but if I could blitz the transports, retrieve the escape pods, I might just get lucky and succeed at my mission. I had come so far, and was so very close. The freedom of the Matari depended on me.

NOW

“I will fight with my last breath, slaver, until the day when your vile and distorted views are no longer tolerated within any region of space. My voice is but one of many. And I shall be heard long after your corpse…” a salvo of missile fire slammed against my ship, tearing open the entire port forward strut. My hull was breached. The Rifter began to spin out of control from the impact.

I was at the end.

My overview came alive, as multiple contacts entered the area. Battlecruisers, battleships, heavy assault cruisers and assault frigates reverted to real-space before my eyes behind the enemy fleet.

I smiled.

“You just couldn’t wait, you crazy bastard.” the newest member of Masuat’aa Matari said to me over fleet comms.

“Good to see you too, Niko.” I replied. “Cutting it a little close aren’t we?”

“Well, wouldn’t want them to get suspicious and all. I mean who attacks a battleship fleet in a Rifter anyway?”

My ship shook as the circling frigates continued to pepper me with weapons fire. I overheated my repair systems, enough to reinforce what little armour plating I had left, and engaged the enemy.

I watched as the battleship fleet split into two, outflanked by my allies, reeling to respond strategically. Another frigate exploded before me, but there were too many, and my damage was too much to recover from.

I sped headlong towards an interceptor, overheating my autocannons. Neither of us veered from our course, each hoping to obliterate the other before it was too late.

Neither of us succeeded, our ships colliding at over one kilometer per second. Both ships were vaporized instantly.

“Roc! No!” Niko screamed over fleet comms.

“I’m alright, Niko; focus on that fleet. Take out the engines on those transports!” I replied from my pod, already aligning to the Brutor Tribe Treasury station in-system.

I wouldn’t be there to join in the glory of victory. I wouldn’t be there as we freed those Matari, teaching the Amarr and Caldari that we would never accept slavery within the galaxy, that we would never rest while such despicable disregard for human life was endured, that we would never back down, no matter what the odds.

We were Matari, and our spirit would never be crushed.

SEVERAL MINUTES LATER

“The flagship is nearly done, Roc. I’ve got you a direct channel with her captain.” Niko said.

“Thanks Niko, but broadcast this on every open channel: fleet, enemy, local, civilian, all of it.”

“Will do, boss.” Niko replied.

“‘As I was saying, Commodore.’ I began. ‘Your corpse will be nailed to the front of my ship for all to see in the coming weeks, but only after I have let some of my less than respectful brothers defile it … repeatedly. And when the stink of your rotting flesh becomes too much for my nostrils to bear, I will jettison your deteriorating sack of meat into the nearest wormhole I can find, that you may never know peace in the afterlife. And do you know the best part of all this? Do you, Commodore? Your god won’t do a damned thing to help you. Kinda makes you wonder, doesn’t it? Kinda makes you wonder if you were on the losing team from the very start, doesn’t it? Guess what? You were.'”