– by Manic Velocity

I was only a boy, fifteen, when my parents sold me away to these bastards. The Gallente claim to be the pioneers of democracy in this god forsaken universe. Those damn militants didn’t seem too concerned about my rights as they dragged me away from my weeping mother. All they wanted was their big payday, and they agreed to cut my father a nice percentage. Take one goddamn guess if I ever saw a cent.

That was only a month after CONCORD lifted the blockade on planetary harvesting. For centuries the business of so-called “Capsuleers” was relegated only to what could be found in the stars. Then suddenly, for whatever reason, our homes had become fair game. I still remember the scream of the shuttles, loaded to the teeth with refinery equipment, sailing down and landing wherever they could find an open field. Drop in, set up shop, and completely destroy any semblance of established civilization. How patriotic.

I made friends over the years, for what it’s worth. Most of us were indentured. Others signed up willingly, thinking one day they could become famedcapsuleers themselves. Naive fools. Janek was like me. His father needed to make ends meet. We saw at once that we were both scared out of our minds, but we had plenty in common nonetheless. We became fast friends. On our breaks we’d talk about our families, our interests, and we’d share a cigarette or two. Most of the time we’d simply find ways to keep ourselves sane. I remember one day, I swear to you this guy had balls, Janek made a pass at one of the lady soldiers. Maybe he was trying to get himself thrown out. But she jammed the butt of a rifle into his belly right then and there. As the poor guy was lying on the ground, clutching his stomach, he started laughing. He was laughing all the way back to our dorm. In this place you have to make your fun where you can find it. And your sense of humor tends to get a little twisted. It’s really the only way to cope. Three months after that incident Janek’s father received a letter of apology from theGallente federation, and stopped receiving a monthly check. Janek was repairing a faulty release valve on a top platform of the refinery, when he tripped on a loose chain and fell into the business end of a mineral processor.

That’s what the official report says, anyway. What it doesn’t mention is that Janek’s friends were tasked with fishing his body out of a molten stew, knowing full well what really happened.

It was twenty-five years ago that I was signed over to this hell hole, and after twenty-five years I have seen enough. I’ve lived my whole life in this refinery. I’m 40 years old, and I can’t remember what grass smells like. I have so many scars and burns that I can’t remember where most of them came from. I don’t know if my parents are still alive, and I’m not sure I even care.

You pilots sit so comfortably in your pods, miles above ground, raking in profit without a care in your head. Protected from death, you’ve forgotten how to appreciate life. As immortals, you’ve forgotten what it means to be human. Enduring eternity only to watch your bank accounts grow. For all I have been through, I sleep better at night knowing that I will never be like you.

I write these words as if they will be my last. By this time tomorrow I will no longer be here. Whether that means I’m flying a stolen shuttle to the farthest system I can find, or lying lifeless, riddled with bullet holes just outside these walls, I know I will not be spending another day in this place.

Whoever you are, I pray these words find you well. I have experienced the consequences of the capsuleers’ greed. They have no misgivings of what they do. And their reach knows no bounds. My one remaining hope in all of this is that they might some day reclaim their compassion for others. To feel the pain of loss, and marvel at the beauty of impermanence. To connect with people based on who they are, rather than the purpose they can serve.

Until that day comes we have no reason, none at all, to trust them.

Sincerely,
Tannen Burke

– by DeSaros Umekawa

I can remember the day well that the ‘confidential’ message came to my neocom. It was an unusually stormy day on Kirras II, complete with wind, rain, and lightning. Someone notified me that we may even experience a tornado, but I found it very unlikely. I designed the planetary Critical Weather Control and knew, without uncertainty, that it would dissipate any tornado if one started to form. I took the moment to remind that employee of the fact, but she still seemed concern. People skills have never really been my strong suit.

This message, as fate would have it, came to me encoded. I heard the familiar tone that my neocom had a new message, and walked briskly to the desk to read it. I decoded it as per the normal procedure and read it, end to end. I walked to the clear, rain-pelted window facing from my office and considered early retirement. I smiled, looked at the letter again on my neocom, and realized that this dream could easily become a reality, and soon. Sooner than anticipated, by several years. I wasn’t due to retire for at least another fifteen.

The letter was simple. Pack for a five day trip, have only two bags, and ensure your affairs will be in order for the duration of the stay. Report promptly to the spaceport and await instructions. The worst part was that it was issued by the Caldari State itself, not one of the nine leading corporations at the help of the State. It was becoming apparent that this was going to be a conglomerate affair. I had heard, in rumors, that the State only issues directives like this one when three or more of the leading corporations manage to agree to something, and that in itself was enough to pique my curiosity.

Complying with the letter I packed my requisite two bags with clothing and my neocom, spoke with my secretary to ensure everything was in order for the next five days, and to clear my review schedule. I was tiring of reviewing undergraduate papers anyhow, a by-product of being the foremost project engineer on Kirras II. Of course, so would this trip, but the rewards were a lot better than a lousy 700 ISK a month. As I mentioned before, people skills were not something I had much of, and students who did not meet my expectations were reminded of the critical need of sound engineers. Regardless, I didn’t have the time to deal with them this week.

As I left the office to my residence I found myself thinking about the project, which at this point was still a total enigma. The paper copy I held in my hand, bearing the official letterhead of the Caldari State, was enough to bring the gravity of the situation right back into view. Despite the gravity, there was a weight of uncertainty about it. Regardless, a patriot such as myself would never turn down a request from the State itself. It was just not heard of, regardless of what it might pay. It was an opportunity to make great things happen, I am certainly a man of great things.

Unlike the indigenous locals I had interplanetary travel experience. I never understood why it cost so much to fly between planets until I met my first capsuleer. He was something of a cowboy, always talking about his last combat mission, especially the ones where he ‘died’ as a result. I laughed a bit at that, but as far as capsule pilots go, I guess dying every day is the ‘new thing’ and dying costs money. Arrogant bastards, I say. No legal residence, no loyalties to the State. Just mercenaries that ‘play’ for money while the rest of existence simply revolves around them.

Of course, I took the flight without question despite the 35,000 ISK bill the State ended up paying.

The travel arrangements were about what I would expect, too. Temperature-controlled spacecraft, just large enough to transport us but not enough to be comfortable doing it. This particular craft, the smallest craft I’d ever flown in, appeared to be a military drop craft. I usually had the privilege to travel by way of an InterBus heron, but today they seemed to be in a hurry.

I managed to meet the pilot, by intercom, and he kept me quite entertained on the way, telling me stories about running blockades in unsecured space and how he died on a few, confirming that all podjocks were the same, and I would never want to be one. Living life without the fear of death might seem prosperous at first, but in the end you become something else. Someone who doesn’t fear death has the ability to do anything, without fear of conscience or consequence.

The trip, fortunately, took only ten minutes so I only had to endure three of those stories. As we docked up the pilot thanked me for the company despite me having only spoke about ten words. As the pressure outside equalized the door opened and I left the shuttle. I looked back and realized how large the craft was, and knowing this craft was piloted by a single human, although he was essentially wired into this thing. So much potential left to a man with so little felt like a waste, but that’s how the system works. Good men are trampled underfoot by those who have power and no concept of controlling it.

At the end of the ramp a pair of Tribunal men stood, and they were real company men, from the high and tight haircuts, to the tailor-made black suits to the polished leather shoes on their feet. They both screamed professional, which made me feel much better, considering the podjock I just left behind. We introduced ourselves in proper fashion, not revealing our first names. We shook hands, nodded, and they pointed their hands down the walkway.

One led me into the core of the orbital station and showed me directly to the conference room while the other took my bags from me. I insisted on carrying my neocom personally, and after a brief inspection they did not argue. I walked into the conference room where another fourteen company men and women stood, all wearing very Caldari business attire as well.

The next thing they told me was mind-blowing. They showed me the directorate order from CONCORD allowing the development of planets within New Eden. After fifteen years of terrestrial project planning and CONCORD’s reluctance to allow this they finally caved. I had been writing message after message insisting on the safety of this development, and now they had plans. My plans, displayed in perfectly-enhanced three-dimensional holograms hovering over the conference table. In a zoomed-in cross-section showed a small section of the map which was shaded in red instead of the normal blue.

I was called because I had developed an entire process in order to mine and manufacture planetary assets without damaging the planetary ecosystem. I worked for years for this, and now it was happening, and best of all the Caldari State wanted me to front-run the project. I could see the error in the plan, a small transposition error from the original plans which were on the neocom sitting in front of my chair. I knew the solution, but I wanted to know more.

After sitting with them, quite excitedly despite my normal calm professional demeanor, I discovered that they had already put my plans into action at a test facility. I was being called in because of an oversight they had made in the reading of my designs, one a less-experienced, less costly engineer would have. And since a lesser mind was the one that transposed the drawings I filed with the State Archives I felt a sense of authority when I started to point out the simple error.

I looked across the table after helping them solve the small problem, and as they looked back I asked a simple question of compensation. They were hesitant, perhaps insulted, but the plans were mine, the solution was mine, and the time was mine. I intended no offense, though these corporate men were very direct. After deliberating for only a few minutes, the chairman stood and said three words that changed my life forever.

“One-hundredth percent.”

I smiled, nodded, and walked away. The projections on the first month alone would make me rich beyond anything I could have thought. Now it’s time to implement it, and considering what it cost me, it was worth it all.

– by Tlador

The survivors of the colony ship, those few who did survive, adapted or died. It wasn’t the ever-present howling wind or even the carnivorous dog-like indigenous creatures that killed them though. The single most deadly thing on the planet we named Tarpeia was the survivors themselves. They fought over everything. They fought over salvaged foodstuffs at first, but then when those ran out, it was holo-reels or antibiotics, or anything else salvaged from their old lives. It seemed that any piece of wreckage or debris was worth fighting over, even the smallest bit of hull.  But even that wasn’t the worst of it.

The colony ship was originally planned to land on a remote planet in Villinnon. Fate had other plans however, and during one of the jumps, the colony ship took damage from a stray asteroid, crippling the ship. Momentum and the skilled efforts of the capsuleer allowed the crash landing on Tarpeia, but crew and most colonists were lost. Of the 2500 colonists, and 500 supporting crewmembers, less than 100 remained.  Of the survivors,  we lost 7 more to the predatory wildlife, another 3 to plain old stupidity, and another 5 died due to injuries they received during the crash. 62 people survived the first hellish months, 48 men, 14 women.

The environment they survived and the transition they made from their civilized lives was cataclysmic.  What happened next was the real shock from their previous lives. Argenta Sopporo was a reject from Concord. He didn’t offer up any explanations for the expulsion ( Concord usually expels it’s unwanted through open docking bays in deep space, not to the general populace ) , but the colonists soon discovered his past. Argenta wasn’t the type of man who took no for an answer, so it wasn’t long before he took what he wanted, and the result was a dead colonist couple.  Though many of the colonists wanted something done, none were bold enough to make a move, and Argenta soon set himself up as dictator for life. He organized the colonists, and when he was opposed, his opposition either had an accident with the boros ( what we named the dog-like predators ),  or later in his reign, they became slaves.

That was over 80 years ago, and since that time we’ve seen rulers come and go, always through an “accident”, and on at least one instance,  a duel. But one thing remains constant, every ruler of this planet has continued the practice of slavery, and each has come to power as the result of violence. The more skilled amongst the colonists soon claimed a spot as the upper class, while the less skilled became labor or worse.

My thoughts have wandered back to this history after listening to my mother’s tales of life on a station. Shops, ships, agents, and traders, and oh never forget the space.. that starry night we only see a small piece of.  I’ve heard of vessels large enough to carry hundreds of thousands of people, and with terrifying weapons that could destroy an entire planet even.

I long for the freedom to be able to move in that space, to be able to pilot one of those ships, to explore beyond and see the great sites of the universe. Dare I say, I long to be one of the immortals, the Capsuleers. But the rattle of my yoke and chain soon remind me of my true place in life, I am but a lowly slave. Doomed to be plaything of whichever dictator is in power at the moment, and possibly even be graced with becoming a human shield for him. Had I been born with more attractive features, perhaps I could have been chose to serve in the harem, but I was not. But don’t misunderstand, that life has pitfalls of it’s own, or so I’ve heard.

Mother’s  ramblings have become more frequently now, and I’m sure she’s approaching the final stages of her life. The older ones say we once lived to be several hundred years old, but the brutal climate and life here has shortened that dramatically. Mother’s the last of the original colonists, and even some of the first generations born here have passed on. At 63, I can already begin to feel the pressure on my joints when I arise, and my inner strength doesn’t answer as quickly when called upon.  Will I ramble on incessantly about past events ? Am I already starting to ramble like Mother.

The night sky is calm for the season, and we can see the stars. The turbulent weather of Tarpeia doesn’t allow this often, and I lie here fantasizing on what life would be out there. Displayed brightly among the stars is a new moon that appeared only within the last week, winking at me as the sun glints off it’s surface. I have to wonder if there’s life on the silver moon, life like ours not the boros. As I return to our hut, I notice that the new moon seems larger tonight, much larger, as if it was descending to the surface. I overheard a conversation earlier tonight that it was a ship, but since no one remains who’s ever seen one, I doubt it’s true. And should it turn out to be a ship, so what? Turn in my life as a slave to become a slave to someone else? No, I will live out my life, hard though it may be, here on Tarpeia. Why would they even care?

It’s just a silly thing to think about I suppose. Why would anyone come here?  If anyone had cared, they’d have found the original Colonists long before now. And we’ve never had anything strange happen.  I wonder, then I realize that I wouldn’t know a ship if I saw one. Perhaps in another age, or in another life, but for now I must sleep, and dream of sailing through the stars.

– by Jutlah Onok

It all started with a smile.

I still remember the fated day as if it had been no longer than one turn of our moon. I was young and scared, running from Ammarian slavers through the Heimatar region. I can barely remember anything about that trip..no that flight save for constant fear and exhaustion that had clung to me ever present as a cold sweat against my skin. I do remember how terrifying space was…so vast..so empty, it was full of nothing but everything all at once. At that age I had no idea what that truly meant, but that is neither here nor there. The only reason I bring up my escape from the slavers is because it was during that trying time that I crossed paths with Him.

We were taking refuge on a Thukker station which scared me almost more than returning to labor for the slavers. My mother was with me as was my sister, all I had left if I had anything at all, they were clinging to each other as the flashes and rumblings of the battle taking place in the void rage on outside the station. Everyone was obsessed and awed staring out the port holes and windows at the massive beasts made of metal spoke to each other in the only way they knew how, destruction. I however found my self struck and staring at a single boy, no older than myself who sat aside from the rest and never looked out the windows nor seemed to care of the happenings around him. In fact he seemed lost within himself, he seemed as if he was actually somewhere else, if only I had known then what I know now.

It was when he looked up at me that my life changed, that I became blessed, empowered, chosen. Our eyes met and if I had not already been sitting I am certain I would have fallen to my knees under the weight of those eyes…the eyes of a God, My God. He truly appeared to be no more that fifteen perhaps younger, but those eyes, they were filled with centuries of knowledge and experience. War, hatred, love, peace, greed, charity, I could go on but it is worthless…there are no words to describe that gaze, nothing that can make you understand the look from the walking Immortal save for experiencing it yourself. Suddenly nothing else mattered, not the battle outside, nor the slavers chasing us, not even the cruel Thukker tribesman that were in uncomfortable proximity. All that mattered was the pure unrefined fear that had gripped me and knotted my guts so tight that I am quite certain my bowels voided then and there. This fear however was short lived, simply because this being, this Immortal, this God deigned at that moment of our eyes meeting…to smile. Something about it wasn’t right, but there it was a smile, a literal God had smiled upon me, and I knew at that moment that everything about my life had changed. It didn’t matter that I was no longer a slave, it didn’t matter that the Republic and Thukkers were working together, all that mattered was that a Capsuleer had smiled upon me.

After that moment I remember very little of the “rescue” as it had been deemed by my kinswomen, I cannot even tell you what became of the Immortal after our eyes met, simply because I had feinted right after sharing his gaze. My mother and sister would tell you that it was exhaustion but I know it was due to the fact that no mortal can ever look upon a God and walk away as they had been before, and so I didn’t. I was a new man, yes a man, no longer was I child. I had been blessed and chosen by a walking Immortal and I knew that such a person must be a man and hold responsibility. So this I did, building a home for my mother and sister and obtaining job and a position on the council within our tribal community, all on our new home planet. We had been shipped an moved and relocated again and again until finally we were set down upon and unamed planet (to my knowledge) in a system named Osvestmunnur by God’s tongue. I did not know when I would be called upon to serve the walking Immortal, I did not know how my service would need be made manifest, all I knew was that I was going to be ready.

Ten cycles of our 3rd moon passed before my opportunity arose. My mother had become aged and as such been given a seat on the elder’s council. My sister was married off to a powerful youth from another tribe, and I…I had spent all that time learning everything I could about the Immortals. I became tactful, quick, intelligent, and strong as any Matari of my tribe, all in preparation for the day I would be called upon. Fortunately my wait was not to long, shortly after the tenth cycle of our 3rd moon, on the 5th day of the rotation our planet, Concord announced that opening of the planet to the immortals. The moment I heard this news my heart nearly burst with shear unadulterated joy…the Gods would be amongst us, they would come to us and need our help on our worlds. We were all to be the instruments of Gods…

As the concord holoreel finally came to the end of the announcement and continued to deliver news now so insignificant as a slave is to his master I turned to my kinsmen joy in my heart, ready to shout in jubilation. The sound however never came, it was trapped and choked in my throat as I saw the faces of my tribe, all staring despairingly at the screen that had delivered the concord decree. They were all, every last one of them afraid, turned white as the vitoc pill we had all once held so dear. I didn’t believe my eyes, how could they be afraid, how could they not be over joyed that Gods would be coming amongst us, filling us with purpose giving our lives reason. After all was not our freedom fought for and gained by the very Capsuleers they now seemed to fear. If only I had not been so naive perhaps I could have saved more of them, shown them the error of their ways before thing got as out of hand as they did. Alas that would have made a different story, not the one I tell you now

What I had originally taken for fear had really been resentment, hatred even. I came learn this over the next few council meeting as I listened to the elders discuss how we were going to greet…or handle, that coming Capsuleers. I feel I should mention at this point that I made a great effort to hide my joy at Concord’s decree, I did not do so to deceive my tribe, in fact quite the opposite. I concealed my joy so my tribe would be allowed to express themselves freely in front of me un-inhibited by my opinion on the coming of the Immortals. However as the council met more often, and the talk of protesting and boycotting turned the talk of resistance and revolution, my hidden feelings remained so more out of survival than caring for my tribe. The more I heard them talk against the Capsuleers the more I felt betrayed, the more I felt betrayed the more my hatred for the very people I had called kin grew. Of all the baffled elders on the council not one of them was speaking as strongly for revolution as my own mother. She was already setting the youths of our tribe to training, and given me command over a good number of them due not only to my kinship to her but to the training I had made part of my regime since my day of blessing. So it was that the Matari Militia was born, its job was to never let a Immortal take our planet…how foolish they were…how foolish we all were. For the day The God arrived not even a century of training would have made any difference to the outcome.

It continued with fire.

A pure blue pillar of fire descending from the atmosphere and slamming into the crust of our planet wither literal earth shattering strength. My tribe was frantic and terrified, all training forgotten in a single moment of panic and despair, they all fled and ran in different directions scattered like the mites they were compared to the God that had come. I stood amongst this chaos staring at the pure blue pillar with awe and reverence. Fire was a purifying power, and here it was descending upon our planet in a perfect beautiful pillar of strength and metaphor. My heart filled with that fire and a pure and primal shout burst forth from my lips. My tribesman mistook this as a symbol of defiance and accompanied my unmoving unworried stature they began to rally around me, I wouldn’t have noticed them at all had one of them not shoved one of our ritualistic blades into my opened hand.

“Lead on!” one called

“Show us the way!” uttered another

So I did, I set off toward the pillar of fire, I led them to the landing of a God…I led them to their reckoning.

As we neared God’s Landing my fervor was rising along with and in antithesis to the blood of my tribe. They began to boast of the ears they would take and I heard more than one blaspheme far enough to claim that they would bring home the Capsuleer’s head jack as a trophy. Had I not known that to turn on them then would be sudden death I am more than certain I would have, but it was not time yet and much to my luck (and amusement) the anger that was showing on my face was being taken as my own rage at the Immortal’s interference on our world. When we arrived I was once again awed, and my tribesman once again panicked at the sight of what is known in God’s speak as the Planetary Control Center. It was beautiful…pure mechanical brilliance almost completely automated, and if my studies had served me correctly the numerous machines that were moving about were various classes of drones which would be controlled by a computer within the PCC. Amongst the drones and barely standing out as they were covered in various forms of armor and machines themselves were humans going about their own assignments diligently serving their Immortal master. One of these holy servants noticed me and my tribe upon our approach, we were not a very subtle group and the weapons in our hands were more than apparent, even so he approached us with an authority that I suddenly held a high respect for. I held up my hand and my band of tribesman, numbering near three hundred came to a unsteady and anxious halt, with that I stepped forward and approached the Immortal’s warrior.

“This land is now incorporated, you are trespassing and will be removed with extreme prejudice if you do not disperse.”

His voice came over a vox and was sexless and mechanical. I replied in kind

“I have come to beg audience with your master.” I stated simply, my statement seemed to confuse him which in kind confused me.

“You mean my boss the capsuleer?” he asked me in return, and the tone in which he said the word “capsuleer” instantly raised my ire.

“Yes” I responded shortly in the affirmative, at which point he chuckled and said these following words which that day sealed his fate.

“Listen man I don’t know what you have going on down here on this pile of dust but he is my boss not my master, he pays well so I work for em. Now please disperse before I enact that extreme part of the earlier mentioned prejudice.”

I listened to his words and a white hot spear of rage lance through my heart I could barely control myself as I asked the following through clenched teeth.

“So if someone paid you more..” I never got a chance to finish the question before he responded

“I would work for th-…” he never got to finish his response the moment he began his answer I knew that his answer would be that of a traitor. Someone who would turn on their God for the simple prospect of personal gain. My hand moved of its own volition and my ritual blade arced forward, the tritanium forged blade tore through his armor carapace and spilled his entrails at his feet before he even realized what had happened. I remember imagining his dumbfounded traitorous face as he fell to his knees and looked up at me from behind his tinted helmet visor before falling amongst his own gore and continuing the slow painful process of dying from a stomach wound…he deserved no less.

My action caused an unforeseen affect upon my kinsman, seeing the guard fall before me sent them into sudden action, all anxiety gone as they let out a war howl that would make any tribe of the Matari proud and charged passed me into the compound of the PCC. I tried to call them back, tried to make the stop, to make them see that to war with a God is a fight already lost…all for nought the battle was already beginning in full by the time I caught up with my kinsman. The guards of the PCC put up a heroic stand, but they were unorganized and surprised by such sudden ferocity by my tribesman and were overrun within minutes, this hurt me more than the death of my own men for I was certain there were men amongst the guard the served the Immortal out of faith and belief rather than out of gain, and my own men were fighting against the very God that had come to call upon my services. The drones however were an entirely different matter, they joined the fray much to the surprise of my kinsman, and cut a horrible swathe through them, creating an instant killing field within the compound of the PCC. More than one drone moved to end me, I did not fault the machines nor did my faith in my purpose falter at being attacked by my God’s servitor’s they were merely following a predetermined protocol. My constant physical training paid off well here, keeping me from joining the screaming wounded or silent dead littering the ground. As the battle raged from the compound into the building itself more and more of my tribe fell to various machines and servitors defending the compound. Despite all of the death surrounding them my tribe continued to fight deeper and deeper into the complex, I followed and defended myself as the need arose but not once did I attack first after the first guard I gutted. The din of the battle was horrible and unlike anything I have ever experienced…still I found it exhilarating something in the sound called to me, drew me toward it…then suddenly it stopped. Everyone, everything just stopped, ever drone fell to the ground with numerous metallic thumps and thuds. For a moment there was a stunned silence from me and my tribesmen, however such silence was not long lived as a moment later a PA activated giving sound to a youthful male voice.

“Now now, there is no need for all of this, come let us talk” the tone was chagrining as if a father reprimanding a child, and I knew a that moment that I had just heard the voice of my God, I couldn’t stop myself I took off at a run, a moment later my tribesman were right behind me. I could feel their blood quickening again at the prospect of facing the Immortal they, like I, had known the voice to belong to the Capsuleer who commanded this complex. I cannot remember my frantic run through the complex and I don’t know how I knew where I was going, in fact now that I know every turn and bend of this entire building I am certain that I found my God only through divine wisdom granted me by his grace, but none the less I found myself bursting into a room that was large yet spartan and standing in the middle of this room was a small robed figure. His face was youthful still, and hadn’t changed in the ten cycles that I had lived on this planet, he looked frail standing there alone in such a large room but his eyes could not be mistaken…they were the eyes that I had dreamed of almost every night since our “rescue” and they were once again focused upon me, and once again I felt more that saw everything that made up this being before me. My tribesman arrived just after me, and whether at the sight of a boy or because of the power of his gaze they too stopped dead in their tracks. For the longest time there was silence as a single boy stood against, and kept at bay over one hundred men bent upon his death…and one who wanted nothing more that to serve him.

It ended with laughter

The silence became unbearable for all but the God who stood before me and my tribesman. This was it, this was my moment, I stood before my God…and I froze. My muscles betrayed me, my voice failed me, and my will left me all in the presence of this boy Immortal. I can not say the same for my tribesman, one of them suddenly let loose a cry and charged toward the Capsuleer raising his ritualistic high above his head…an eternity passed as I waited for the God to smite this foolish Matari but the Capsuleer did not move, he just stood there watching the deadly blade begin it decent into a killing blow. Suddenly I felt my muscles move, my voice call out, and my will force a movement will out consulting my, and I watched as my ritual blade flew across the room in a spinning arc and catch my kinsman in the back slamming him to the metallic floor with a sickening thud. I stood there motionless and unbelieving, my arm still outstretched from my throw, my lips still shaping the sound of my shout as it echoed in the open chamber “No!..no!..no!..”. Again silence claimed the room as all eyes turned to me tribesman and Immortal alike providing me with expressions of disbelief or incomprehension. I saw a number of my tribesman reach for their weapons as the severity of what happened began to grasp them, then something happened that stopped them and sent shame through every fiber of my body…someone was laughing. The sound was heavenly and innocent, yet mocking and cruel all at the same time…it was a sound that should not be and yet it was…The God was amused. My tribesman looked to the Capsuleer with fear, hatred, revulsion all in one and again their hands moved toward their weapons, I looked on the following event still ignorant to what was truly happening.

The Capsuleer still laughing made a dismissive gesture and suddenly the room filled with five vicious looking drones that hovered in the air, in hind sight they were Matari Warrior class type two in God’s speak. My tribesman hesitated for only a moment…it was more than enough for the drones to draw a bead and unleash their vicious Matar designed projectile weaponry, the chamber filled with a deafening roar of autocannon fire and blood and gore filled the room as the remaining one hundred (give or take I will admit to not having an exact count) ran into a grinding fire of hot fusion ammo, every man died then and there…the Immortal never stopped laughing…

When it was all done I felt the artificial intelligence of the drones appraising me and simply awaiting another dismissive gesture from their master…none came. My God laughed for another century, or so it seemed before finally his mirth was spent, the moment his laughter stopped his face returned to serene innocence, innocence on the face a person who just slaughtered over one hundred men with the motion of a hand. I could feel his eyes one me, but I cold not bring my self to meet that gaze…not after the laughter, not after such humiliation.

“Why?” the Immortal asked simply.

My mouth again spoke of its own volition as if his question was a command that I could not refuse to obey.

“He would of killed you my God.”

he seemed to be appraising my response…judging it, I could almost sense the power of his mind taking my words processing them, checking them for inflections and flaws…if he found any I do not know of it, but I am certain that one simply word was a test…a test that I passed. For right after he made his decision the drones disappeared as suddenly as they arrived. He then turned and approached me pointing to the ground as he did so, again my body moved and fell to a knee before the boy God.

“Do you have a name?” he asks me in that angelic voice.

I told him I did indeed but before I could put my name to sound he cut me off

“Then forget the name you know, for if you are to be my Avatar you will bear the name I give you.”

My body went numb…all my dreams, all my desires, everything was coming true in this moment. I was being truly chosen to serve as the Avatar to an Immortal, one of the dreaded Capsuleer’s of New Eden. He declared me his Avatar then and there and renamed me, this name I will not give for only My God has right to speak it all others that now serve me as his Avatar simple refer to me simply as that which I am…Avatar. That is how I came to be the leader of The Child’s Wardens, I defend his faith, his land, and strike fear into his enemies with a righteous wrath fueled by his divine right as an Immortal . Since his descent into my world I have not seen my God, but I know one day he will return and I will be here to do as he bids when he bids. So know this, if ever you find yourself facing a man who calls himself The Avatar, you have but two choices fall to a knee and declare The Child your God, or fall to your knees holding what you can of your belly in, for I have come to spread his word, and I will not be stopped for I am blessed…by a God.

– by Falconwraith

Chapter 1: The Past

It almost seemed like a distant story of times gone past. My grandfather telling me stories passed down to him from the first to enter into New Eden. His stories were a bit embellished sounding to say the least. It always made me laugh as a kid when he told them to me. Growing up in a little backwater planet in the solar system of Piak, the fourth furthest from the sun. His stories of the grandeur of the massive fleets that brought us to this place; how wonderful everything was, how happy the first immigrants to New Eden were.

But his eyes, they told a different story, one of not happiness and the grandeur he spoke so well of…but of the strife and suffering for the first immigrants. The back breaking work on the ships, and on the planets to simply survive in this new world away from the one they once knew. Then came the rise of the immortal ones, the pilots of the great ships serving the four great empires. The great wars and the sinister corporations who’s only true motives…that of their own conquest. All the while we lay down here, generation upon generation going by, with the skies at times literally on fire with the havoc being played out above.

As a boy though it always seemed so distant, like a glimpse into the heavens. As the great Caldari empire grew, powered by greed and the motivation of technological and monetary advancement. The people living beneath the heavens mere play things to these immortals on these ships, they could not die and as such had no remorse for losing entire families serving aboard their great war vessels.

Then times got even worse as new corporations grew, new empires began to be forged in the vast lawless out cropping of space. These immortals even worse then those of the four great empires, their motives even more sinister and self serving then their predecessors. People serving aboard their mining ships doing back breaking labor, or war ships lost at their mere whim of enjoyment.

So my parents and my grandfather made a choice as I reached manhood to leave this place to seek refuge from this in the interior of New Eden. In areas touched by the great empires, but out of the grasp of those who would force me to serve aboard their ships. At the time I was riddled with anger to leave my friends behind, thinking they did it for only their own interests. I knew not of the sacrifice they were making on my behalf to avoid the fate so many others had suffered at the hands of these immortals. A lesson I would soon learn first hand, and a lesson I would surely not forget.

Chapter 2: The voyage

I remember it well my first encounter with one of these immortals. When the ship first landed I remember I was in awe as I caught a first up close glimpse of one of these great vessels. I had only seen them on news casts before, but now I was faced with one up close. A Caldari cruiser of the Moa hull class, I noticed it immediately having toys of these ships as a boy. It landed on our planet, taking in supplies and goods, as well as passengers looking to go along to its final destination…a small planet in the citadel border region of space known as Kassigainen five. This however I would find would not ultimately be our destination.

Only a few hours into the journey we got word from this immortal that our course had been diverted. Instead of heading to this planet we hoped to seek refuge in, we were headed into an area of Sinq Laison to join his comrades in battle. Apparently some corporation this immortals corporation was at war with had pinned down one of their large freighter class transports ships in a system called Allipes. Immediately some of the immortals crew members showed up putting us to work, telling us that we could either help them or parish with the ship should it come under fire. I was only just entering manhood at the time but I remember well the instructions, being told to put out any fires, to move this here and that there. In truthfulness all I could notice was the fear in my mother’s eyes as I was forced away from her, and the feeling that came over me. I knew it would be the last time I would ever see my family…again.

Chapter 3: Stranded

We arrived in the system of Allipes and were greeted upon entering the system by a great battle taking place. A massive freighter lay listing some several thousand kilometers off the nearest planet, her hull already ablaze. Several cruiser and battle cruiser size ships sat around her, and one massive battleship class ship. Almost in a seemingly selfless act trying to defend her even though the bitter end drew near. The attacking fleet using a myriad of technologically superior but smaller heavy assault ships, bobbing and weaving their way around the larger ships at incredible pace . I felt myself just starring at the dance happening outside of the ships window. It was shortly there after though, I saw a level of devastation I’d soon not forget.

It appeared the force our ship was with was winning the day, but then there was a great flash of light. Once my eyes regained focus as I starred out the window into the vast space and I saw a sight I had hoped I would never see again. From the light almost as if by an act of God, I caught my first glimpse of a Titan and her accompanying battleships, carriers, and the like. Only shortly after seeing them enter the field the attacking fleet put distance on the now smaller fleet we were with, and then it happened. In a great flash of fire and brimstone it was all over. As the edge of the blast approached the ship I was on I remember a tear running down the side of my cheek. I felt this would be my last moment, and then it all went black.

It was not over however, minutes later I came back to, the sound of alarms blaring in my ears. The ship had only been grazed by the edge of the blast but had been still torn in half. I remember the voices of the crew yelling for us to brace for impact as the wreckage was pulled down onto the nearby planet. I once again prepared for the worst, wondering all the while how such devastation could be welded by any one man, let alone at the whim of an immortal one. Wondering where my family was, and if I would be greeting them again soon on the other side I sat motionless. Out the window I could see the seas of this planet approaching us, and then it all went dark again.

Chapter 4: A Brave New World

As I came to yet again, I found myself still alive. The alarms had gone and the ship was dark. Out the window I could see nothing but the vast depths of the sea. Then a voice as if an angel calling to me from the distance. A young woman of my senior maybe just a few years yelled to follow. Disoriented and fearful by sheer instinct I followed her, weaving through corridors of the ship. Fire and wreckage strung about the ship the likes of which I had never experienced. We eventually came to a door with a hatch, it opened and we entered into what was left of the bridge of the ship. A pod lay inside and the immortal I had once heard lay their dormant, the life not just gone from his eyes, but almost as if it was never there, just empty.

With water from the seas slowly coming in we headed for an opening in the hull of the bridge, we clawed our way against the currents of the water flooding in to escape the ship. Shortly after the ship was swallowed by the sea, and only those of us who escaped remained upon the seas surface. It was odd though how after the ship sank things seemed so tranquil and at peace, with all that had gone on above, down here seemed to of never have been touched by the havoc above. The sea still, the sun bright in the sky, birds over head it seemed almost surreal.

As we all sat there bobbing on the oceans surface, nobody spoke, the events that had just transpired left us silent. I looked around but saw no sign of my loved ones among the survivors. Then from off in the near distance a boat appeared on the horizon. A group of people out on the sea for the day had seen our ship crash and had come to help us. They brought us all aboard and took us to the city they lived in on one of the many islands of this planet. They welcomed us with open arms that day, they had but seen the carnage above, but much like as when I was very young looking up to the fires in the heavens, it seemed distant to them.

Chapter 5: The Nightmare Returns

It’s been some time since that fateful voyage. To me now it seems like nothing but a dream, a nightmare that came and went. The citizens of the city who rescued us took us in, let us live in their homes, treated us like family. I ended up marrying that girl who saved me that day, and we treated the couples who took us in like we did our parents. We have our own child now, a boy who is around the same age as I was when my family entered the nightmare in the heavens. He calls the people that took me in grandma and grandpa; he knows nothing of that nightmare. I’ve done my best to put it in the past, to not think of the immortal who took us on that journey. To not think of the past life I was torn away from that still haunts me in my dreams every night.

My time is nearly up though and soon it will be my boys turn to live his life. I fear though for him, news comes that the very same immortal that ripped me from my family is returning. Only this time the immortal tyrant seeks not dominion over the heavens, but rule over those below. What nightmares await him I fear and I do not know; it seems that in the end we are indeed…just mere play things for the immortals in the heavens above.

– by Logan Fyreite

The planet surrounding us had been a Shadowed, foreboding place. Forests of tall but ultimately useless trees grew in the valleys between the powerful peaks of the ever shifting mountains. Powerful thug cartels had run what little work was left, but even they lacked the money or resources to penetrate the thick layer of rock and dirt on our world or keep the majority of the wooden buildings standing through the tremors. The dirt and dust had settled all over our town after the mega corporations had left some years ago, taking their factories and mining equipment with them. I was left homeless and jobless at 33. It wasn’t a life, taking scraps of trash as food, living day to day with what work could be found, begged borrowed or stolen, or more likely survival through pure chance. I had watched many co-workers die from the cold, from starvation. It had left me numb, the only feeling left was hunger eating at my gut.

I heard rather than saw them, eyes drawn skyward towards the rumble of decelerating objects above. I didn’t know who they were, or why they were here, just looked up, jaws open, forgetting about the hunger in my belly or aches in my body. The wind whipped around us from the descent,clearing the thin layer of dust from our faces and bodies for the first time in ages, pushing it seemingly out of the town. A structure seemed to fall from the sky, supported by small craft and thick lines, moving slowly for some clearings in the dense woods a few kilometers outside our town.

Fear was the first emotion to spread through me, fear of the unknown, but it must have been stronger in the Cartel houses. Those men of limited power seemed at once humbled by the structure, seeking an answer, desperately trying to ensure their power remained intact. I saw them send one or two of their cronies towards the structures the first day, they moved through the back alleys, one lashing out and kicking me roughly, but none ever returned. A day passed, and a group of unemployed but brave locals gathered in the square. A heated debate followed, I didn’t participate. The cartel masters came down and forbade them to go, promising them death if they returned, or worse, no work or food. It didn’t seem to matter to some, already unemployed, hopeless… They headed towards the structure. I wasn’t with them, but some I knew were. They never came back. The people of the cartel grew more smug, guards laughing at the families they represented. Their heartless mirth was short lived.

The third day a hush spread over the town, a quiet so profound that it stopped work, and silenced the cartel bosses. Just before noon I could hear a faint noise, coming from the outskirts, the sound of a few people making their way through a crowd. I moved through the alleyways to get a better look. Nobody had to wait long.

A large mass of people came into the square, forcing me out of the alley I had been hiding in reluctantly so I could see them, hear them. I waded through the crowd slowly, finding holes I could slip into, nearing the front, at the same time fearing for my safety, expecting the return of the cartel gang members, now violent and triumphant in their conquest of the new distant structure. The sight that greeted me was not what I expected.

A small group of what looked like people from another time stood in the middle of the crowd. They were clean and dressed in simple but functional coveralls, smiling, backs to the central square, even some of their faces looked familiar but it was impossible. They spoke with easily people in the crowd as if old friends. I pushed towards the front trying to make out some of their words, breaking suddenly through the shifting crowd, nearly striking a tall, vaguely familiar man, clad in a clean pair of coveralls. My eyes focused on him, his face was no longer covered by the dirt or beard that had grown to cover his gaunt cheeks and strong jaw. “M..M.. Michael?” I stammered brokenly, his face coming into a shape I hadn’t seen in months. A smile. His eyes betrayed him, they were hopeful, not hungry, he reached out to me…

“David, someone came, it’s amazing what they have, tools we have never seen before, knowledge, hope.” His eyes filled with tears and he looked away, nearly whispering at the end, his hand holding my elbow. “David, they have food, water for us, for us all.” I stood there stunned, Michael turned to walk away, clearly understanding my loss for words. Spreading the word to others.

In less than a hour they came. Some were serious military types, visored, too scary to look at directly, emanating power, threatening violence. Others were smiling, dressed in the same utilitarian coveralls, standing in the back of the trucks driven by the military
men. They spilled from the back of the trucks, military and others alike, helping to drop boxes from their overloaded trucks, filled with supplies of all kinds. Things we hadn’t seen since before we had been abandoned as hopeless. Groups of the outsiders, these angels in dark blues and reds, walked through the crowds, following the trucks, helping the ill, and old. Even the Cartel workers stood in awe. The Cartel leaders remained on their balconies, supposed finery dwarfed by the simple efficiency and cleanliness of the outsiders. For once they were dirty like the rest of us.

A young lady appeared next to me, her piercing green eyes meeting mine, I tried to withdraw, but she handed me a bowl of warm stew. I took it greedily, but was simply ushered to a set of portable tables, a warm blanket wrapped around my skinny shoulders. I shuddered as the warm cloth touched my aching back and arms. It took just one bite of the warm stew, before tears of relief slid down my face, pooling at my chin as I lent forward for another bite, my tears dripped onto the table, dirty black against the white of the table. I tried to clean them away from the surface, leaving a black smudge from my unclean hands. I looked around, terrified, expecting to be expelled from the table. My fear was baseless, it didn’t matter, I couldn’t stop crying, or eating until the deep bowl was empty. Others from the crowd had joined me at the table and we all ate, drinking the cold, clear water from pitchers at the center of the table. The warmth of the stew met the warmth from the simple blanket and I leaned back, trying to understand my new found smile.

Michael found me there, beckoning me off to the side without saying a word. We had known each other from the factories before this planet had been labeled as “a net loss in profits.” I had been his boss, now it didn’t matter, it hadn’t mattered for a long time. “They plan to put us to work David, to help them create items they can sell.” He wasn’t scared at the idea, his tone matter of fact. His eyes were alight with chance, of a hope at a new life. “They have the means and the money to create factories quickly, to give us a life again.” My body shook like a frail old man, belying my 35 years.

“I thought we were abandoned,” I choked back the tears and the hope I felt, trying not to be sucked in. “Left to rot on this planet… Can we trust them? What makes them better than the mega corps?” I looked around again, seeing the fallacy of my own words as more were served food, cared for. “How do we know…”

I was stopped by a loudspeaker broadcast in the center of the square. A tall Siebestor stood there, broadcast by the speakers and projected by his strong, determined voice. “Some of you must know by now who we represent, CONCORD has allowed pilots access to the planets, and we represent them, or at least some of them. Now I will tell you what we are not! We do not expect you to trust us, but please listen…” He glanced over the crowd, his eyes taking us, our wretched mass, in. “We offer new jobs at the simple price that you do them, WELL. We will offer training, but even our funds and supplies are limited and in the end we need you to be successful so we can remain. We aren’t your government,” He spat the government word out like a curse, “and we don’t want to be. We are your employers, you are not our slaves.” He pointed over to a group of women setup around a long line of tables. “We can help each other, please.”

I shuffled towards the women lock step with hundreds of others. The Cartel members frowned down at us from their balconies of filth.

It was five hundred and fourteen days of a simple heaven before reality and the dust returned.

With over 9300 views yesterday, and after being featured on the EVE Online Latest News page AND the Insider page, and after receiving several new story submission entries, I’ve decided to try to up the amount of ISK we can give away.

My readers have already donated generously, raising over 1 billion ISK to give away to the winners of this contest! Writing stories isn’t easy; try it and you’ll see!

To this end, I have 2 PLEX on contract ingame individually.

The starting bid is 300 million ISK apiece, the relative going rate for PLEX right now. I’m hoping that if you’re reading this it means you’ve taken an interest in this community contest, and hopefully you’ll go ingame, look for auction contracts from Roc Wieler, and purposefully overbid on these two PLEX.

100% of the final price goes to the winners!

– by Shaprie

Diary entry 39015

Its been eighteen days since these inhuman people who like to call themselves Capsuleers invaded our planet. Who knows where they come from or what they want with us.

These animals have destroyed the major cities around us killing millions of people. There is havoc and panic every where. The debris and destruction of the cities has caused some destruction in our once quiet mining town. I’m going to try and find some where safe to bed down for the night.

catch you later

Diary entry 39016

Day 19 of the invasion, Last night it was the first time i had seen one of these Capsuleers. It was like an army of them walking through the streets rounding people up. They were locking people away in a big cage being pulled by some sort of tank vehicle. These people look like they don’t mess about; killing people who try to resist. I hope I’m not the last one.

Diary entry 39017

Day 20 of the invasion, Yesterday when searching for food I found life of my own kind, A guy called Biggs, He managed to avoid the Capsuleers also. Biggs has got an nice little den sorted through an access through a sewer, its some kind of old subway. Anyway, this morning we had to scout down to the mines to try and found some dynamite and blow some of these scum up. It;s real bad, the Capsuleers have taken over the mines and are using our people as slaves to mine our ore and minerals for them. Life’s not looking good.

Diary entry 39018

Day 21 of the invasion. All day we have been trying to find other people weapons and food, We managed to capture two of those Capsuleers. We gave him a good beating as well. The weapons the have look cool and complicated to use but they can really pack one helluva punch. One of the guys had a file with him: ” MISSION DUST 514 ” HIGHLY CLASSIFIED. I tried to read some of the stuff in there but it looks like computer code or something , What the hell is DUST 514 ?

– by Derek Steele

Act 1 – The Coming Darkness

“All I could see were lights, intense, blinding. My ears were full of sound, so much noise; the earth was reverberating with every boom. I couldn’t move. I was paralyzed by fear. Everything became hazy, I remember a wave of heat washing over my body, and there was nothing. Stillness. Looking back on it I preferred the noise to that uneasy calm, like the eye of an incredible hurricane. The storm came in a wave of explosion. I think I was on the out edge of it, but it was still enough to throw me bodily into the tree behind me. I was dazed and confused, the whole world was shimmering before me, but I remember a second array of lights, far larger than the other, probably a hundred times its size, descend to the earth near it. It looked like three gigantic boxes strapped to each other. The next thing I can remember was the medics leaning over me asking questions that I couldn’t hear above the sound of my ears ringing. I don’t know what else to tell you.”

Paola Zatrann looked over the interrogation before her with a deep sense of worry about her. As CONCORD’s emissary to the fourth planet in the Deltole system, it was her duty to ensure that its inhabitants were affected as little as possible by outsiders. Reports from her fellow emissaries from other planets in other systems were that there seemed to be increasing number of outsider incidents in the Algintal constellation. She couldn’t understand it, with CONCORD’s current ban on outsider influence on planets there had been relatively little to deal with, but this was the third incident within a solar week that this had happened, and that made her anxious. It made everyone anxious.

Zatrann thought it was about time to contact the CONCORD ambassador to Algintal and see what was going on. Thus far she had treated these outsider intrusions as isolated incidents, but her doubts were beginning to get the best of her. She knew what weapon could have been used out there, the “wave of explosion” as the witness had testified. Smartbombs. Smartbombs used on land protected by CONCORD by law. Sadly without a ship class or a destination trajectory the perpetrator of this incursion was unlikely to be able to be tracked. The trail was cold.

Reaching her office she simply said “Communicator”, and the wall sprang to life in a colourful display of activation.
“Welcome back Emissary Zatrann, How may I be of service today?” The voice was at once compassionate, and yet somehow devoid of any human emotion.
“Put me on to Ambassador Theelanis please.”
“One moment.” There was a brief pause as the computer attempted to make contact with the ambassador’s secretary in Jolia. “Contact successful, establishing link now.”
On the screen appeared the perky face of a young Gallentean female who seemed far too pleased to be fulfilling her secretarial role.
“Ambassador Theelanis’ office, how may I help you today?”
“I need to speak to the ambassador right away. It concerns possible violations of capsuleer intervention on my planet.”
“Ah, another one. Well, you’re in luck, he’s just arrived back from a meeting, patching you through now.”
The ambassador’s familiar, age worn face appeared before Zatrann.
“Ah, my sweet daughter,” he said in the tone that always filled Zatrann with warmth, “what is it that you need help with today? If it’s money you need you know you didn’t need to vid-chat me.”
“No, father, but I thank you for the offer. I come before you on business only, but seeing you of course is an added bonus. I have a problem father. Yesterday, for the third time this week, I believe that capsuleers have attacked sections of my planet with no provocation. I can’t understand it, I thought that the anti-capsuleer interaction ban by CONCORD was supposed to prevent this sort of thing from happening, and normally contact with capsuleers is quite limited. Suddenly, growing at an almost exponential rate, they’re attacking and scorching the planet, traumatising its inhabitants. Why is this happening father? Why is this happening to my planet?”
The ambassador looked down, worry and sadness creeping across his face, despite his attempts to hide it from his daughter.
“My girl. There is an impending storm on the horizon. I am not normally allowed to tell the emissaries this, but you are my daughter, so I am prepared to take the risk. The anti-capsuleer interaction ban you spoke of is being lifted at some point in the coming weeks or months. I myself don’t know exactly when, only that it is happening. It was supposed to be kept secret between CONCORD and its high level employees, but in an organisation so big, there are always leaks. Someone has told these capsuleers that this ban is being lifted, and they are illegally scouting these areas to try to find areas of potential worth before any others can legally do so. These intruders are pirates, the enemies of CONCORD, the ones we try to restrict to low security space but always seem to find their way back in. These attacks are not unique to your planet either, they are happening all over the universe, I would be thankful that you haven’t been on the receiving end of the worst ones. Some have been trying to mount a resistance, and have been met with overwhelming force. I can only imagine how bad it will become.”
“What can I do father?”
“Not a lot I’m afraid. Once the ban is lifted, CONCORD has relatively no say in the matter. They will not be responsible for policing the actions of the capsuleers. The best you can do is be prepared for the coming darkness. Hundreds, perhaps thousands ships, industrials, freighters, they will descend on worlds throughout the universe, and they will have little care for those worlds that they will exploit for their own financial gain. Your only real hope for your world is to move its people as best you can into major cities away from mineral rich hot zones. I’ve heard of incidents firebombing of civilian cities in the Amarr Empire, and I don’t think we can trust even the Gallentean capsuleers from not doing the same.”
“I can probably do some evacuations, but not enough. We have enough problems with civil wars on our own without outsiders. Things are going to get messy.”
“They most certainly are. Will you be safe there Paola? I can have you transferred to somewhere else…”
“No father, this planet is my home, and I will do what is necessary to protect it, to defend it, to ensure its survival. I hope that things will not become too difficult, but from what you’re telling me, I have a lot of work to do. I’ll leave it at that father, thank you for telling me this. My love to mother.”
“She sends hers as well. Good luck Paola. Be safe.”

The screen briefly became transparent and then began to display an image of the planet below.
“Is there anything else I can do to help you, Emissary Zatrann.”
“No thank you computer,” Zatrann sighed, defeated, “Just send me the planet’s representative. I think we have a long debate ahead of us.”

Act 2 – Invasion

Planetary court was in session, and the major representatives from the planet and the CONCORD representative were all in argument over the current issue of mounting a defence initiative, evacuating cities or just letting capsuleers destroy the entire planet with their naked profiteering. Like the millions around me, I stood in Victory Square watching in a state of anxiety as our leaders battled over what would happen to us, the little people. One thing was clear, doomsday was coming, and it was inevitable. The CONCORD representative had been notified that CONCORD was lifting the capsuleer ban on interacting with planets in the coming weeks, and I could see that all blame for our current situation was being placed squarely on her shoulders. She was flustered, but she held her own, even amongst all the anger and tension in the court. Of all our leaders, I put my faith in her. Her vote was for the evacuation of many of the citizens into three of our major cities and for the rest to migrate into designated “Low Strategic Value” areas in an attempt to avoid confrontation from the capsuleers. She also demanded a truce between all warring factions currently fighting between themselves, and unifying the world against the impending capsuleer incursions. While everyone knew this was unlikely, I still admired the force with which she spoke and the determination to do what she thought best for our people.

There was an audible crash heard over the video screen. Every representative looked in the same direction and began getting up from their seats. The transmission turned to static. Everyone began looking at each other in wonder, talking amongst each other in an attempt to understand what was going on. All of a sudden two pinpricks of light appeared in the distance, rapidly growing larger. The pinpricks reshaped into ovals as they sped above me and slammed into the Federal Administration Building.

My vision blurred, my ears ringing, I struggled to my feet amongst the dirt and the ash and the rubble, trying to see what was going on. I heard another volley pound into the building and my flight mechanisms finally kicked in. I ran. I ran as fast as I could in the opposite direction. I ran past burning buildings, blood soaked bodies reaching out for a lifeline that would never come, past the ruins of a military training post. Everything was in chaos, everyone was in panic. We never thought we would have to prepare ourselves for this; our planet has lived in peace for centuries.

I found a Quafe warehouse that seemed relatively intact and I rushed in, losing myself in the crowd that was doing the same. Once I got inside I headed to my right, out of the way of the incoming crowd, trying to find a place to breathe some cleaner air. I saw in the centre that some military personnel from the now demolished training camp had brought with them a mobile shield generator. It seemed that for a while at least, we were safe.

Once the military had completed their setup, they went about trying to fix the video screens to try to get a mayday broadcast out and hopefully receive some news of who or what was attacking.
“I’ve got a signal!” yelled one of the mechanics from across the hall. At once a dozen officers converged on him, talking to him and amongst themselves. One of them prepared to make a speech.
“Ladies and gentlemen! May I have your attention! We have currently erected a mobile shield generator. It should keep us safe for approximately five hours with our current battery reserves. We have also managed to fix a video screen well enough to receive, but we cannot yet broadcast a signal. Rest assured we are doing the best we can, and we hope-“.
He was cut off by a high pitched squeal from the video screen and then a transmission coming in, as clear as day, or at least, as clear as day was before the attack.
“Fellow citizens. I am Paola Zatrann, representative of CONCORD to this planet. Just recently we were attacked by unknown assailants in multiple locations around the planet, including station Alpha, the location of the High Court. Only a few have delegates from the station have successfully made it out. The station was completely obliterated. I am placing the planet under CONCORD jurisdiction and we will-“. The signal cut out and was replaced by a much more terrifying one.

A man stood on the screen. Scarred and clearly a veteran of many a conflict, he had the eyes, the face, and the voice of one that has experienced, and bee a party to, the enslavement of worlds, and he clearly enjoyed his work.
“Good morning our poor defenceless victims, I trust that those of you who are still alive are well minus an arm or two. My name is Trelek, and we, dear friends, are capsuleers, and damn fine ones at that. Your measly defences have been swept away, leaving you no means of forcing us back. We plan to pillage and mine your planet dry, stripping it of every resource that has any remote value. This of course, is not likely to be in line with your plans for the planet, but make no mistake, if you fight us, things will only get worse, let me assure you. I politely request that you surrender, fully and unconditionally, control of the planet to us, and then maybe we’ll consider not cleansing it.”
The screen split into two halves, one with the capsuleers and one with Emissary Zatrann. Clearly they were on a direct line that was also being broadcast live across the planet.
“What right have you to do this? This planet is under CONCORD jurisdiction under my order! I have called for reinforcements and-“
Trelek interjected.
“Darling child, you have absolutely no right here. CONCORD has lifted their ban, sooner than I thought they had planned too. Quite a timesaver. They will not be coming. We are here first, and this planet is ours. Please, Enjoy your stay,” Trelek’s gleeful face turned to one of brutality, “as short lived as it may be.”
The capsuleer’s side of the screen went dead, and Paola was left looking down in defeat. She raised her face and delivered an improvised speech.
“Ladies and gentlemen. They are correct. Moments before the capsuleer’s attack on Station Alpha, I received word from CONCORD High Command that the ban on capsuleer planetary interaction has been lifted.” She bowed her head. “CONCORD will not be coming. I am deeply sorry. I thought we had more time.” Paola signed off.

Act 3 – Aftermath

Paola’s entourage was visibly shaken from their tumultuous journey from the wreck of Station Alpha to a secure bunker in a province below the planet’s largest body of water, most of the people on there were a lot less fortunate. The reports that were coming to her were that the two largest cities had sustained major attacks, and their next three had minor attacks on them. Millions were dead. Millions more were injured. The planet was gripped by chaos and there was no-one coming to save them. Shortly after delivering her speech, Paola collapsed.

She woke up a few hours later. She was lying on a bed, feeling very dizzy. When she came around and became aware of her environment, she realised she was not on her own. An unfamiliar face was looking at her from the doorway.

“Ah, Ms Zatrann. I’m glad you have recovered. We are evacuating you immediately. Please come with me. There is a transport ready to take you back to Jolia where you will be safe with your father.”
“No, I cannot leave. This is my planet, I am responsible for it.”
“You can communicate with your people just as well from Jolia, where you will be safer. Now come with me. I’m not asking this time.”
“No! I-“
“Nurse, sedate this woman.”
“What? You can’t do this!” screamed Paola.
“Then come with me NOW!”
Paola sighed her sigh of defeat. She’d done that too many times recently. Her life was just happening and there was nothing she could do about it.
“I’ll come.”

As they exited the atmosphere, Paola looked out of the porthole of their armoured shuttle, witnessing a heavy battle between a small contingent of Megathron class warships that were engaged against the pirate capsuleers.
“They’re buying you time,” said her mysterious guardian as he was piloting the shuttle, wired in, “evidently your father wields some serious power. Brace for warp.”
Paola braced herself. Moments later the gate to Colelie appeared in the front viewscreen. They jumped.

As the ship went into warp towards the next gate, Paola’s pilot unstrapped himself from all the gadgets and gizmos that were required for manual piloting. He somewhat ungracefully stumbled through the door to the small cargohold and dropped onto one of the seats opposite Paola.
“Well, we’re on autopilot now, you should be to your father soon.”
“Who are you?” Paola, exhausted, asked, mumbling.
“Ah, of course, my apologies. I myself am a capsuleer.”
At that, Paola became wide-eyed and suddenly, full of an angry energy, leapt upon her pilot. She was put down quite quickly, but not before landing a decent punch on the man’s jaw. Holding her hands restrained, the man bent down to whisper into Paola’s ear.
“Now I’m going to forgive you for that and put it down to the circumstances. Before I let you go, I need you to know that I am on your side. I am not a pirate and I have, and never will, attack civilians. What happened to your planet is wrong. I want to fix that. I’m going to let you go now, but be sure that if you attack me again it’s lights out. Deal?”
“Deal.”
The man released her, and they both returned to their seats, Paola facing what she now believed to be her captor.
“Ok.” The man said, “I’ll start from the top. Yes, I am a capsuleer, and I want to help you. I am not the only one either. There are good people in this universe, and we want to help. There is a movement rising since the planetary interaction ban was lifted. We are not ready yet, but in one, maybe two years, we will be launching offensives on those pirates that are abusing this new interaction. They will grow complacent, they will be unprepared. We will be victorious. Let me make this clear, right now it is all just rumours, but one day it will be possible. It operates in secrecy and until the time is right, it will stay that way. It has a codename, a name for freedom and for retribution. Its codename: DUST 514.”