((Longest post ever, sorry lol. Well, it fits into the experience so I hope it’s not too much of a trauma to read))
“The firewall has been penetrated Ma’am” said my bridge engineer. “What!?” I exclaimed somewhat confused as the light changed from a pale green to a pale red to indicate the status of our situation.
“Weapons systems are offline, Ma’am” he continued. Via the neural interface between pod and ship I attempted to lock our assailants. “Inject some scripts into the locking subroutines” I barked. “Aye Ma’am” he replied.
Their jamming had shut down our offensive capabilities meaning we weren’t even able to resolve a weapons lock on their ship, let alone fire. “Scripts are active” he bellowed a few seconds later. I attempted to lock again but the jamming was far too much for a small Minmatar frigate to overcome, a Caldari one… maybe…
Aiming in the general direction of our nearest attacker, I fired blind without a lock. Projectiles streaked across the dark sky, hurtling in all directions, expect where I wished them. “Fuck!” I cursed, attempting to compensate. The crew exchanged worried looks, either from my temper or our situation.
Plotting a course to the nearest gate took just nanoseconds via the pod/ship interface. We accelerated and started to align. “Lets get out of here, we’re out-gunned and outmatched” I said. The ship buffeted under weapons fire – not enough to take out the shields totally, but enough to punch a temporary hole.
“The port warp engine is off-line Ma’am” shouted the bridge engineer again across the vastness, well it seemed like vastness anyway. I didn’t fancy their positions, being actual crew members, without pods. Hell, some of them didn’t even have clones. Still, everyone would get out – or we’d die trying. The impact had delayed our warp by a few seconds, as we’d need to re-align and prepare again.
Contact sensors lit up throughout my view as two more ships de-cloaked. An almost instant lock was resolved. Damn they were good. Moments later our newly arrived friends had shut down our engines – both warp and standard. We couldn’t run, and we couldn’t move.
I scanned the various interfaces. Comms – down. Engines – down. Weapons – down. Shields – Penetrated. Armour – intact. We weren’t getting out of this with armour and no weapons.
A flickering comms channel got my attention. It was one of the ships requesting to talk with me, with me? The ex-”me”. How the hell did they know who I was. Nobody knew.
Before I had chance to accept or decline, the conversations opened on all screens and channels. Including my pod, the bridge, and various others around the small rickety ship. “Miss Xi” the voice exclaimed across the open comms relay – everyone could hear. A few nervous glances were exchanged about the bridge, and I dare say about the rest of the ship.
Stalling for a moment, all I could manage as a reroute was “Who?”.
“Alia Xi. You will disengage and cease all hostile actions. Lower your shields, and prepare to be towed aboard.”
Cursing I tried to compensate for the fluctuations in our warp core and get us moving again. “I said stop girl!” the voice came through again. Rolling my eyes, I gave up but also with a sudden awareness of his tone, his speech pattern.
“Very well” I replied. “You appear to have the advantage on me”.
My mind racing, console screens scrolling as I processed the data directly from the ships interface and my vision. Maybe there was an option.
“We will comply, lowering shields” I transmitted. A split second after our shields were off-line several tractor beams lanced out from various ships. Some pushing, some pulling. We were slowly directed into the cargo bay of one of the Ravens. Their weapons locks still resolved on us, while the Drakes just hovered menacingly in dark space. Now and then, several Merlins would fly – obviously on patrol and intercept for any unwelcome guests – and to pinpoint the targets for these hard hitting monsters.
“You!” I snapped to one of the bridge crew. “Eject the ammo from all magazines, collect the surplus in the stores and pile it all up in the main bay!”. He shot me a quizzical and slightly confused look. “NOW!” I yelled. He ran with fear in his eyes. “And get as much help as you need” I bellowed after him.
“Two minutes until we’re docked Ma’am” said the tactical officer. “Very well” I sighed. Knowing I wasn’t go anywhere, even in my pod I made my exit. I sat, suspended, motionless as the neural interfaces were detached from my body. Finally I was no longer one with the ship.
Opening the pod, I climbed out. It wasn’t all the dignified, but I’m sure they’d seen it all before, or at least I’d hoped so. Getting onto the deck I heard weapons fire in the distance, down the corridors. The few crew of the frigate attempting to defend and repel the intruders. I stood on the bridge naked, covered in oozing gel, dripping from all parts of me. My hair, somewhat messy, but also somewhat “workable” in that state.
Grabbing the nearest comms unit, I said “Stand down, no further weapons fire.” Moments later his voice boomed throughout the ship, and docking bay “A wise choice, listen to your captain – or die”. Gradually the fighting died out.
“Get me my clothes” I said to someone, anyone. They arrived from the storage locker, delivered by someone. I wasn’t really paying attention. I pulled on my pants, and quickly shouldered my jacket. I was covered, this would do for now.
There he was, large as life. Pompous and flanked by heavily armed Caldari Navy guards. Thankfully I was dressed, there’d been enough freebies so far.
“Alia Xi” he said… I quickly replied “I don’t know who you’re talking about, we’re a small-” he stopped me off mid sentence. “Cut the shit, little Miss”. I tilted my head slightly with a pensive expression… again, he sounded somewhat familiar.
My stance, my expression, my mannerisms and my words were that of a Caldari – which I was. Nothing could hide that, no matter how hard I tried. I may have well as stuck “FAKE” on my forehead”, because it was obvious. My shoulders slumped.
“Yes, I thought so” he said. Finishing his words, one of his guards quickly interrupted “Permission to speak Sir”. “Granted” he replied in a dismissive and couldn’t-care-less attitude. “We have the crew rounded up Sir, shall we transfer them to prisoners quarters?”
“No” he replied coldly. “Execute them, all of them”.
I took a step forward, rage coursing through my body and screamed unrepeatable obscenities at him. He flinched, I smirked. His guards aimed. I stepped back, and calmed myself.
I looked at each of them, carefully, from head to toe. Their uniforms were not quite up to scratch – but none of the Caldari were. It was all on a budget, maximum efficiency, minimum cost. These guys had been in the comfortable service of “him” for far too long. Two of them, maybe, but I couldn’t take six of them. They were itching for combat too, you could see it in their stance, their eyes, their fingers hovering over the triggers.
Him.. the arrogant bastard knew it too. He knew any movement toward him meant I would be dead before I’d taken a single step.
Attempting to lighten the moment I said “So, how are you finding the ship, nice hmmm?”. He snorted. “About the crew…” I continued. “What about them?” He replied.
“Let them go”
“No”
“Why?”
“Because, they are the only thing keeping you alive”
“You think?”
“I know”
“What do you know?”
“You”
“Do y-” he cut me off again.
“Yes, I know that if I didn’t have guns to your crews head you would already be dead. You see, my guards would have shot you minutes ago.”
“Really, how so?”
“You’d have tried to kill me – again” he said. Again, something hitting me like a physical strike, but it wasn’t.
He could see the confusion of my face, I’m sure it was obvious. Bursting into laughter he said “Come with me Alia, come with me little miss”. Now I was confused.
“The crew will be safe?” I asked before continuing. “Yes, yes, yes” he said. “I really meant them no harm, but I had to be sure….” he finished. “They will be given standard prison cells, and standard prisoner food”.
“Poor bastards” I retorted. Which was followed by bellowing laughter and some smirks and snickers from his personal guard.
“Come” he said, in an all together friendly… and familiar voice.
We wandered through what seemed to be endless corridors of the battleship, even I was lost by now – or maybe that was the intention. “Do they go everywhere with you?” I asked, referring to his personal guard.
“Mostly, yes” he replied dismissively.
“Do you get them to hold your dick for you in the toilet too?” I quickly finished my sentence with a mocking “Sir”. “Watch yourself little Miss, you don’t know when to stop, do you?” he said without breaking pace as we continued down the corridors.
Finally, we were there. His quarters. Just as well, I’d had enough of walking down the dowdy grey corridors of the Caldari battleship. At least the Gallente had some style, some taste, some thirst for comfort, unlike these mindless automatons that followed – no matter the cost.
Stepping inside, it was totally different. “No one gets in” he said to his personal guard. Who effectively sealed the door with their bulk “Yes Sir”.
“So this is how the other half live, huh?” I questioned mockingly. “Well, once you have done your duty to the state you can enjoy the…. finer things in life” he said softly, but also acknowledging the hypocrisy of it all, albeit subtlety and probably inadvertently.
“Drink?” he said rhetorically.
I just shot him a look as if to say “Don’t be so fucking stupid” – although I was hardly in a position to say it out loud.
He laughed, understanding fully “Why oh why did I even ask you that Alia” he said chuckling.
“Why do you keep calling me that?” I snapped. Half in pretence, half in anger at what I’d lost. He walked up to me slowly, unbuttoning his jacket and handing me a drink. “Because it’s you Alia, little Miss”.
Again I looked slightly confused, but also comforted by his words, his tone. The plush room, the comfortable sofas, the live plants and interior décor were more of a Gallente ship, but only one holding such high office as he could expect this from the Caldari state.
“You…. know who I am? You…. know me?” I ventured. “Yes, I know you – better than yourself it seems girl”. I was astounded… I would have beaten any man that talked to me in such a way, but I found myself unable and unwilling to this gentle old soul. “Gentle old soul” I muttered. “What was that?” He said.
“Oh, nothing” I replied quickly, thinking I must be going soft, or stupid, or both.
“Yes girl, I know who you are – and did you really think you did a good job with that botched escape attempt, hmmm?” he quizzed. “It, it, it… wasn’t my doing I stammered. My XO” I stopped, unable to finish my sentence.
He laughed again “You always did have a way of getting yourself in over your head, it’s just as well there are ‘interested parties’ overlooking you”. “What!?!” I exclaimed. In both shock and surprise of this past knowledge and the fact of these so-called “interested parties.”
“You didn’t think you did it all by yourself, did you?” he said softly. Throwing back the rest of my drink, and shuddering as the fine liquid burned slightly in the back of my throat in the plush room I replied in a somewhat husky voice “Well, actually, yes. I did”.
“Your arrogance knows no bounds” he said patting the side of my face gently. With that he turned 180 degrees, and walked to the other side of the room. The Caldari military discipline still engrained in him as he smartly turned and marched.
“I have something for you” he said. “Another drink, I hope”. “No” he replied, there are things to attend to now girl. The pleasantries are over, and we have work to do, and little time. “Hold out your hand” he said firmly. I found myself already holding it out before I’d realised what I’d done.
“What is it?” I said looking at the thin piece of brown fibre strand in my hand. “Hair” he said.
“Oh goody, maybe I can have a few thousand more of these and then I might just have enough for some extensions” I said mockingly.
“But not just anyone’s hair, Alia. Your hair” he said. “Your hair” he replied, slowly, re-iterating.
“Uh-huh, and what exactly am I supposed to do with this?” I asked. “It’s not for you, it’s for us” he continued. “Whilst your XO botched the escape, he did do one thing right – which is persevered your mind, yourself, your essence. That’s better than nothing, thankfully we still have ‘you’.”
I listened carefully, for what seemed an eternity as he schpeeled off technical jargon, operations, covert ops and so forth – taking a drink in the process, he didn’t seem to notice as he was too wrapped up in his ramblings.
“So you’re ready and agreed then?”
“To what?”
He laughed again. “See, I wanted to know if you were paying attention – you always had a habit of ‘tuning out’ after a while – and it seems you did.”
“The short of it is this; We have some modified jump clone technology. This will allow us to take your present body, your present consciousness and transfer it back into your original”. “But my clones, they were all destroyed” I said somewhat dismayed.
“Yes, yes, that they were. However our liberal Gallente friends didn’t take substantial precautions to oversee all matters”.
Do you remember?
What?
Your “execution”?
“Somewhat” I replied.
“What were your last memories in your old body” he asked softly.
“I, I remember that bastard admiral, striking my face. I remember the soldiers attaching me to the shelves, against the wall”. He nodded. “After that, I just remember… I remember my XO, a pain in my neck and then waking up in a rifter, here, in this body”.
“Do you know what happened?”
I shook my head, bewildered.
The laboratory in which this took place, was purged. All contents inside were destroyed – living, or manufactured. A precaution, to prevent viruses, biological warfare agents and other such man-made nasties from escaping.”
“Yes, I remember burning now” I said somewhat distressed. He nodded somewhat sympathetically. No doubt he’d been killed a few times in his service – it never got any easier. Maybe less so, and your hatred to those only grew.
“The technician, who sealed the room, who purged it was…..”
“Was who? Was what?” I asked.
“… was cautious, was smart, was one of ours” he seemed to be hiding something, but I didn’t know what.
“He preserved that. You see, they used external employment – like they did for their shipyards in Luminare. Where did that get them? Hundreds of stolen battleships. Again, where did this get them?”
I shook my head. “Nowhere” he said. “For their mistake shall be our victory, their loss shall be our gain. Their carelessness shall be our luck. Their pain, will be your doing”.
“I’m, just a.. trader” I stuttered. That laugh, again, echoed around the plush room this time bellowing as he threw his head back. “You’re a pirate little Miss, you always have been, and you always will be – you’ll never change!”.
I sighed, and grabbed the bottle of fine liquor on his pristine glass table and opened my mouth, pouring it in with wreckless abandon. I shrugged, “Yes, I guess so… so what now?”
“Are you ready?” he replied
“For?” I said, cheekily taking another swing and slamming it down on the table, almost putting the bottle through the glass.
“Lets just call it one last journey, although they don’t recommend taking it after drinking as much as you – although I’m sure it won’t bother you in the slightest” he said, finishing with a wry smile.
Walking to his quarter doors and pressing the release button, they slid back slowly. The dowdy outside corridor almost fighting to get inside, but repelled almost by the overpowering strength of his personal guard. They carried a weight in themselves, as for his….
They snapped smartly to attention as the doors finished reclining. He strolled out, almost as if a protective atmosphere, a shield guarded him – which in effect it did. His persona, his guards, totally loyal almost acted as a magnet repelling all in their path.
Corridors and corridors later we were there. He walked, carrying the hair sample with almost majesty, like a sacred item. Both hands extended in front of him, laying across them, the container holding it. Flanked by guards to the front, guards to the left and right, and guards behind he cut a path through the crew and people in the way – who quickly pressed themselves against walls to make way.
I followed a few steps behind his rear-guard, flanked myself, I glanced over my shoulder and saw another who just gave a cheeky smile and winked – most unlike a Caldari.
We arrived and I saw them, the lifeless shapeless clones.. half formed, half ready. A mind could not live in them – not for long anyway. The flesh had not taken a form, a shape. Technicians hurried about as he entered. “Are we ready?” he asked, his voice cutting through the room. “Yes, yes, I think so Sir” one of them replied.
“Either we are, or we are not – which is it?” he demanded
“Ready Sir” the chief technician replied.
“Take this – and be very, very careful with it” he snapped, handing the sample to the tech. Two of the guards retraining their weapons on the tech. “You know what happens if you’re not?”. The white coated man simply nodded slowly and uttered “Sir” softly.
The sample was loaded into a machine and analysed. “Alia Xi… DNA sample confirmed… Loading helix… Processing…” scrolled across various screens. “Downloading pattern sequences…. Strands loaded”.
“Where did you…” he cut me off. “Ssshhh, doesn’t matter”.
“But I thought that clones needed a…” he shot me a look and I stopped dead and buttoned my mouth. Jump clone technology worked provided you HAD a clone to jump into. To create these clones required and existing body to make the clone from. What was happening here was….
“Applying Deoxyribonucleic acid chains to recipients…. Chains accepted, recipient formation started and in progress….”
I paced, how long had it been? I really wanted a shower, my hair was matted from the goo still after ejecting from my pod. I felt dirty.
The soft computer voice suddenly announced “Recipients deoxyribonucleic acid chain formation – completed”. The room shook and the contents, including people and items either fell to the floor or stumbled across it. A second later the klaxon sounded and the lights dimmed. I knew this all too well, we were under attack.
The loud-speaker activated to alert the crew “Incoming Federation Battleships, action stations! Report to combat stations”. My stomach churned. Caldari ships were certainly formidable – when their shields were up! It took a lot of power to maintain an active barrier, so they were dropped during non-combat situations – a sneak attack was the worst kind.
He raced to the nearest console. “Pilot reports shields are going up, but we’ve taken armour damage sir”. “Divert all power to shie-” The loud speaker echoed across the room again “Federation ships launching drones – priority intercept for frigates.”
Another salvo of rail gun fire hit the half charged shields, which were enough to take the edge of it but not enough to stop it puntching into the paper-thin armour. “You!” he barked to one of his guards, “Stay with her – make sure it’s done” pointing at me. “I’ll be on the bridge”.
The wireless communication between the pod pilots of the battleships, crews and fighters was clear for all to hear. “Target the Federation lead ship, salvo fire explosive missiles”. They by-passed the drones, slamming into the Gallente battleship knocking it’s shields out immediately and biting into amour. “Maintain maximum fire”.
“Miss, please come with me” said my guardian. I looked at the tech, “Is this safe, under these circumstances?” I asked. There was neither a confirmation or denial. “Miss, quickly please. I have my orders” said the man clad with weapons and ablative amour.
I walked towards one of the containers, ready to be filled with the sustaining fluid that kept clones – and copies alive. “Um, you’ll need to take those off he said” awkwardly pointing to my clothes. “Yeah yeah, I know the drill” I replied.
“Federation drones have disabled all fighters able to intercept”.
Where there were five ready accepting “clones” now there were only two, but I didn’t have time to argue, it was chaos. I quickly took off my pants, which were pretty much stuck to me, and my jacket from the goo and stepped into the clone vat. The bio feeds and neuro feeds were attached and I was for all intents and purposes “plugged in”.
“Jump-clone sequence initiated” – this sounded normal… “Jump error, re-routing to nearest fall-back” – that didn’t sound normal. “Fall-back not found”.
I hated this stage, I was neither here or here. I was in a computer, a network. My mind was merely a load of 0’s and 1’s floating about. The sensation was weird, but normally only lasted for a millisecond, but this, this seemed like forever.
I didn’t hear it, I didn’t see it, I felt it. “Fall-back clone not found, returning host to origin”. Little did I know what was actually doing on in that stage… my origin, my body, the “Minmatar” one was replaced in the container for my re-created host, me.
“Transfer complete – jump aborted. Host returned to original body”. There was a slight problem in that the body that went in was Minmatar, the one I was downloaded into was Caldari… “Origin specimen not matched – checking Concord fi-”. A loud explosion stopped the sentence, and the execution of the check. The console was destroyed.
“It’s done, now quickly unplug her” the guard said. The techs complied quickly and immediately knowing the wrath of what they may have to face. “We need to get to your ship Miss” said the guard.
“You can’t be serious… a frigate would never make it out of here… not even a speedy Minmatar one”. “No” he simply said, come, come quickly as I dashed after him, still half dressed. More jolts rocked the ship.
“Launch drones, maintain fire on the lead Gallente ship. Missile batteries reloading” was announced to the ship, and fleet.
“You’re not going in the frigate Miss” he replied, “This way”. We hurried to the aft docking bay, the most easy to exit, and easy to land. We ran through corridors again, and again, lights flashing, people running, sirens blaring and all the while buffeted by impacts on the shields.
I was bundled into a shuttle on the bay, the screens barely having time to come down to seal it from space as it was sucked out. “Alia is away” I heard over the comms. “Ready tractors” that familiar voice now said, clearly in command and on the bridge. They streaked across space, grabbing the small shuttle and pulling it in. The docking bay of the Drake, so familiar, so welcoming.
Assuming authority I snapped as I quickly got out of the shuttle “Report!”. “Shields are up, we have incoming fire, but maintaining at 70% Ma’am”. “Good” I replied. “Get me to the bridge, or get me in the pod – either”.
“They’ve seen it! Federation ships are now primary-ing the Drake”. I snorted as I ran to the bridge, like they were going to be able to destroy a Drake that easily. Little did I know, they had re-called all drones and deployed them upon us along with the main batteries. The ship lurched, “Shields at 57% – we’re unable to tank, and we’re not aligned!”.
I didn’t come through all of this for it to end this way! Not at the hands of the Federation, not so easily. Making my way onto the bridge, which was intact and a nice change the pod pilot was co-ordinating the defence, escape and attack. They looked so lifeless, in the pod, plugged in, thinking, feeling – as the ship would – as one.
More shield impacts. “Get us out!” I yelled. “Unable Ma’am, we’re being knocked out of alignment by the concentrated fire power upon us”.
“Incoming reinforcements – blackbirds within staggered formation – ECM is hot”. Suddenly it was quiet. A large grin spread across my face. The Gallente ships were effectively “turned off” the ECM cruisers had overpowered their tracking and firing computers – much the same as happened to me earlier.
We aligned and warped, leaving our aggressors behind.
“Wha, what about him?” I asked. “What about them?”
“They will be fine Ma’am, we are Caldari, we will prevail”.
“Take us, take us to our old stomping grounds pilot”. The ship altered course with an almost respectful change. I didn’t want to command it after that, I needed a few days to compose myself. After all, it was a lot to go through.
Then I saw him, the defected “new guy”. “Why are you wearing that I asked?” in a somewhat taunting and complacent manner.
“This Ma’am?” he said referring to his jacket. “Yes, this Ma’am” I replied.
“Well, it’s comfortable and sort of always fitted, Ma’am”.
I held out my hand, “I’ll be taking that, thank you” I smirked as he parted with his State War Academy jacket. How lovely they were.
So after a brush with death, twice, I was back to my “old self”. The long brown hair, the slightly shy appearance, the somewhat un-comfortableness and the soft Achurca face. I sighed happily, it was good to be back… and I would never make the same mistake of housing my clones under one umbrella again – ever!
I looked around, at them, at anyone, at everyone “Alia is back” I grinned.
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