I hate crowds; always have.

You can take an otherwise ordinary individual, docile, selfless to a degree, kind hearted, generally good person; put them in a congested grouping with other similar types of individuals, and suddenly, things change. People become self-important, abrasive, short tempered, hostile, coarse and vulgar, physically violent and possessive. There’s something about crowds that brings out the worst in regular people. If you’ve ever been in a crowd, you understand. It could be rush hour to your job, a once per year sale at your local retailer, a sold-out concert for your favourite performer; it doesn’t really matter.

People, in volume, are stupid.

We’ve all read horror stories of individuals being trampled to death by overly excited masses. We’ve heard of uprisings where the sheer volume of people overwhelmed the controlling party. We’ve watched local authorities call in riot squads when throngs of protesters cross the line.

People, in volume, are dangerously violent.

And doesn’t it amaze you how nothing ever becomes anyone’s fault but yours? I was trapped in a crowded thoroughfare once, was bumped into fairly hard by another Brutor male, who then looked at me with a suddenly confrontational expression, expecting me to apologize for our collision. Look buddy, you’re the one who walked into me; you’re the one who will be doing the apologizing. But it never happens, does it? It’s always the other person’s fault. It’s what leads to road rage during congestion, mass violence where none existed a moment before. I could go on and on.

People, in volume, are ignorant.

So there I was, walking towards a crosswalk during a very busy morning rush hour for the planet I was on. I had researched on my NeoCom and discovered that over 5 million people per day were passed through the transit system each day for this particular country’s capital city. Impressive.

I was about twenty meters from reaching the crosswalk; a dense sea of people between me and the roadway. It didn’t make much of a difference; the roadway was jammed solid as well. Motorists honked at each other as every last person tried to squeeze a little closer, thinking that extra two seconds they might save makes up for the three minutes they have now delayed everyone else. Good logic there, idiot.

Ahead of me, at the crosswalk, I saw an elderly woman, hunched over a very primitive walker. It always saddened me to visit industrial age planets. There was such advanced technology available in the galaxy, but so much of the universe was still impoverished; unable to advance due to cost restrictions, governments living in fear, and a plethora of other meaningless reasons.

I had noticed her as I approached the crosswalk. I tried to take note of anyone or anything that stood out as unusual. She struck me as unusual simply due to the fact that she had been trying to cross this street for several sets of lights, but was unable to, partially due to her limited mobility, and partially due to the fact that the motorists were absolute morons, not yielding the right of way to her even where local law obviously stated such.

It infuriated me.

“Excuse me, ma’am.” I said upon reaching the crosswalk. I spoke as gently as I could, not to alarm the woman. “Would it be ok if I offered my assistance?” I smiled encouragingly, sweeping my arm broadly towards the intersection she needed to cross.

Her initial reaction to being spoken to was of slight fear. She recoiled, but then her eyes opened up wide with excitement. She nodded enthusiastically before finally giving her consent. “Yes. Yes dear. That would be wonderful.”

Within a few seconds, the crosswalk indicated we had the right of way. Of course, between us and the other side of the avenue were several lanes of cars illegally positioned right over the designated crossing area.

Lovely.

I motioned for the woman to stay still, then walked out into traffic. The cars slowly made their way past, but the crosswalk indicator was warning us not to start walking, as the light was about to change.

I held my ground in the first lane.

I put my hand out in front of me, gesturing the oncoming vehicle to stop. If it didn’t, this would’ve seriously hurt, but as I expected, people, despite their assholish natures, weren’t entire stupid. The vehicle stopped right in front of me, its driver fuming with anger, his hand held to the horn of his vehicle. I politely smiled, and gestured for the elderly woman I was assisting to make her way across.

She smiled and slowly started her long journey.

While my one hand kept the first lane of traffic at bay, I positioned my body into the second lane of traffic, raising my other to stop the oncoming traffic there. The first vehicle completely ignored me, coming perilously close as it sped by, but the second vehicle stopped. Its driver didn’t bother with the horn, opting instead to get out of his vehicle and deal with the situation personally.

He opened his mouth to yell at me, and I could only imagine the obscenities that were coming my way. Before that could happen, I established myself as the alpha male.

A bright flash of anger tore through me, exposing every vein in my neck and forehead, flushing my skin crimson, and giving my already harsh voice extra volume and edge. “If you even think of opening your mouth right now, I will put my size 10 boot so far up your ass that you’ll be shitting shoelaces for a year.” Seeing as how I had done that very thing in the past to someone, I must’ve had a very convincing performance, as the man withered before me, retreating back into the perceived safety of his vehicle.

The elderly lady had successfully crossed two lanes of traffic. I looked in our direction of travel; only four more lanes of traffic to go.

It took about fifteen minutes, but we finally made it across intact. It was quite the adventure. The saddest part for me was the crowd of spectators that had gathered to watch our little escapade, reinforcing to me that such random acts of kindness were indeed rare to these people.

Once I had made sure the woman was no longer out of breath, and could continue on her own, I thanked her for the honour of allowing me to assist her, and wished her a good day. It made my heart feel good to do what I could, when I could. That particular day wasn’t so important that fifteen minutes would make or break it.

She looked at me with what I thought was simple gratitude, but there was something about the way her eyes shined with unadulterated admiration that unsettled me. Then she spoke.

“It was my pleasure to see you again, Colonel Wieler.”

I froze on the spot. I had been travelling incognito, and I was 100% sure I had never met this woman before in my life. Quietly, I huddled over her, and said, “I’m sorry, but have we met?”

She chuckled lightly, coughing, smiling the entire time. “Oh yes, but it was many, many years ago, my old friend; long before you were a Matar Colonel; long before you started calling yourself Roc Wieler.”

A stab of panic raced around my entire nervous system. I had no idea what this woman was talking about. Old friend? How could that be? She must’ve been ninety!

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but you must have me confused with someone else.” I replied.

She shook her head firmly.

“You never forget the man that saved your life.” she said, “especially when I was only six years old.” Her frail, dry hand reached up and gently cupped my face. “But you haven’t changed one bit since that day ninety seven years ago.”

Without thinking, I stepped back, horrified at what this woman was saying. I had only been a Capsuleer for five years. It was only a few months prior to my capsuleer training that I had escaped Amarr enslavement. She must be wrong! She must be mistaken!

She continued speaking, her words sending pure dread through my heart. “I lived in Hrober back then. You saved us from a pirate attack. I’ve loved you since that day, but was too young and too shy to ever say so. I never thought we would meet again. I never thought fate would give me the chance to tell you how thankful I am for the life you gave us all.”

I had worked out of Hrober for months, but that was only five years ago. Wait, before I called myself Roc Wieler? Didn’t she mention something about that? Who was this woman? What was going on?

“We need to talk.” I said, and she nodded her agreement.

It didn’t matter to me how long this took, I was going to get to the bottom of this. In a heartbeat, my entire life had changed again.