I had originally thought about contracting out the cleaning of my hangar, but there was something rejuvenating, something deeply personal about rediscovering who you were. It was almost as if while cleaning away dust, cobwebs, garbage and other debris that had piled up over time, you were symbolically cleansing yourself.
Or maybe it was all nonsense. Maybe it was just crap that needed cleaning. Maybe I was just a cheap bastard who would rather sweat his ass off for hours, to ache later, instead of paying the isk. Either way, it was invigorating.
Then came the purging. You forget just how much stuff you own until it’s time to move. Since my “retirement” I hadn’t given much thought to Stay Frosty. I was earning enough to live, kept to myself, and for the most part was content. Only Rixx Javix and a few others knew how to contact me directly. He did. Apparently we were moving so if I didn’t want my stuff to be isolated in a hostile nullsec system, I’d need to get back to the land of the living and arrange transport for my belongings. I’ll admit, there was a part of me that just wanted to donate it all instead of being bothered, a desire to not go backwards but to forget the past. Yet at the same time there was the nostalgia of the glory days, the things i had accomplished, what I still had left to do.
So there I was, hand polishing my personal fleet. They hadn’t seen a scrub in years. By the time I had finished my hangar and everything in it, it easily would’ve passed military inspection. I was beaming with pride, feeling good about myself.
While various firmware and software updates processed, I took some time to relax in my quarters, getting caught up on various happenings of importance within New Eden. A lot had changed. A lot hadn’t.
I nearly spit up my beer when I saw the first Keepstar citadel. Wow. That’s really all I could utter to myself.
Aura finally pinged me that all systems were current and optimized. She was ready to go. It took me a little longer than it used to, but once I had fully surrendered to my pod and let go of my conscious self, it didn’t take long for me to wonder why I had ever walked away in the first place. Because of her, remember? my mind chided me, but I silenced it. This was neither the time nor place to dwell on that.
Rixx had provided me the new credentials for our improved comm systems and I quickly connected, lurking to see what our pilot ranks had become since last I had flown with them.
That is when it hit me. Like a hauler. In the face. I watched as lines of text blurred by the screen at an insane speed. I listened as too many voices talked about too many things at once. I swear it was all in plain language but I struggled to understand anything they were saying. It wasn’t that I was using old encryptions; it was that I had no cultural relevance to the things they were speaking on.
Suddenly, I was old. A relic. Irrelevant. That would have to change. And it all started when I said “hello ladies.”
Large rigs on an assault frigate will make you feel old too….
Tell me you’re kidding.