Monuments

I had originally purchased my Augoror to mine in. Mining Barges were restricted, and I had outgrown the tormentor, though that ship served me well. However, the Augoror was designed to be a logistics ship, and with the birth of the Wormholes, I was called upon to serve in a support role for exploratory expeditions. I outfitted my Augoror with energy emission systems and remote armor repairers, and flew in a couple of expeditions into the unknown.

My first excursion into a wormhole was short and intense. Garst Tyrell, an old friend, and a mercenary acquaintance of ours were my wingmen for this operation. Garst flew an Omen, Kilondar operated an Armageddon-class battleship, and I supported from my Augoror. I was constantly changing my distance from both of them, trying to keep them within my logistics range. I also had to keep my distance from the sleepers, as I could not withstand their barrages for long at all.

We were about halfway through securing the site when multiple contacts were spotted on the directional scanner. Out in the lawless space of the unknown, any pilot not part of your operation should be considered hostile. Sure enough, they warped to our location mere seconds after we had detected them. Brutixes. Garst quickly gave the order to warp out and retreat, for we were not equipped to deal with other capsuleers. Garst and I warped out unharmed, but poor Kilondar was tackled, but was able to escape in his pod as his battleship shattered under their withering fire.

My second expedition into a wormhole was in the aftermath of a PIE operation. A PIE pilot even flew with our group for a while, helping clear a sleeper site or two. Garst, of course, was PIE at the time, having joined the Praetorians about a month and a half prior. The operation was already underway when I was contacted by Garst to participate, and he had me gather plenty of supplies before heading over. By the time I arrived in the system containing the target wormhole, the PIE pilot had already retired from the operation. The PIE pilot would later be the officer to conduct my interview for my PIE application, but neither one of us would remember the radio contact we had that day.

My first action was to jump though the wormhole in my Bestower, in order to anchor a Giant Secure Container. This GSC would be located in a safe spot, and would be used as a supply cache, storing capacitor boosters as well as loot for when our cargo holds were filled. I then jumped back through the wormhole to fit my Augoror and return to support the operation. I arrived to find Garst flying his new Omen Navy Issue. Kilondar flew an Arbitrator this time, to both cut down on his investment, and for easier maneuvering. After clearing a couple of more combat sites, we warped to a planet to divvy up the loot collected, so that each received an equal share.

After we had divided the loot among ourselves, it was time to warp back to the wormhole to return home. Kilondar was the first to warp off, followed by me, with Garst being the last. However, upon my arrival at the coordinates for the wormhole in my navigation computer, I was met with the site of empty space. I blinked a few times, trying to see the wormhole that was no longer there. I radioed Garst with the dire news. He didn’t believe me at first, but saw for himself when he warped in.

Kilondar was nowhere to be found and unreachable, so Garst and I came to the agreement that he had collapsed it. We sat there in the empty dead space pocket for a minute, until Garst had us warp back to the GSC, our lone monument in this lonely and unknown system. Garst launched a few probes to scan for an exit, while I waited, unable to help. I drifted through space silently, pondering our situation. Garst contacted me on the radio.

“I have a large quantity of signals, but I cannot locate an exit.” Garst sighed heavily, exhausted from the operation and an hour of fruitless scanning. I could see he was determined to get out, but I worried that in his state he would not be able to operate efficiently.

“Garst, get some sleep. We can find a way out tomorrow,” I said softly, trying to put him at ease. I saw him quietly accept on my vidscreen, and turned it off. I sat back in my chair, and ran my hand down my face. I smiled, and laughed slightly. My second trip into the unknown and I get stuck. My first involved an ambush. Life was teaching its lessons fast. I closed my eyes, leaned back in my chair, and drifted into an uneasy sleep.

I woke up to find Garst probing again for an exit. Again, multiple signals filled his scan results, and he was unable to identify any wormholes. He grew frustrated; I could see it on his face as I initiated video contact.

“Nothing so far, I assume?” I said, sighing.

“I cannot find anything, no. There are too many results, and it is hard to zero-in on one,” Garst said, not looking from his scanner.

Unable to help for a lack of the proper equipment, I began warping around the system, visiting each planet, and previous coordinates that we had bookmarked, their contents long destroyed. Floating around in the empty space, however, was lonely, so I returned to the GSC, which served as a sort of fire, fighting off the darkness of the unknown all around us.

The GSC played an important part for us. It was something familiar in an alien system. It still held our loot, as well. We spent most of our time drifting only a few kilometers from it, always keeping it within sight. Its monolithic shape reminding us of home. The rest of the system was desolate, bare. Nothing but the aging wrecks of the sleepers adorned the god forsaken, empty void of this space.

We spent hours inactive, returning to our scanners periodically for another scan. After a day of being stuck out in God knows where, Garst was done. He contacted me once more.

“I’m tired of this, Saint. I cannot find another wormhole, and I do not plan on staying out here any longer.”

“What do mean?” I asked. I was not ready to give up yet. I had only been a capsuleers for a few weeks, and was not fond of losing what I did not have to.

“We can’t find a way out, and no one is going to locate us. There’s only one option available for escape.” He immediately ejected from his ship, and looking up at my main viewscreen, I saw his pod leave his ship.

“Wait,” I said, anticipating his next move; realizing his intentions. “You can’t be serious. We’ll find a way out, there’s no need to be so hasty.”

“I am serious. No one will find us, Saint. No one and I will not stay out here any longer. I have business to attend to back home. I have the Empire to defend, and my own personal pursuits.” His voice was calm, his face serious. “Now, eject and join me.”

“No…” I said, as I considered the prospect. I couldn’t fly his ship yet, I didn’t have the skills, but his ship was the only one with a prober on it. “In a few days I could fly your ship, get myself out.”

He laughed as I said this. “Do you really intend to stay out here for days? With nothing to do until you can fly my ship?”

His laugh was taunting. I knew it would be almost ridiculous to spend days out here, with nothing to do, but I wasn’t ready yet. I couldn’t do what he wanted me to do. “It wouldn’t be that long…” I trailed off, knowing full well that it would be almost a week until I had the skills to fly his ‘Nomen.’ I sat back, weighing my options. Garst’s point was undeniable. I closed my eyes, saying a short prayer to God. Upon opening them, I took off my gloves. I looked down at my hands, seeing the signs of a life of labor on them. They were callused, rough.

I thought about the skeleton crews aboard our ships. They had no out. These ships would be their tomb, a monument to what had happened. I only hoped that they would be found, be rescued. There would be no point in shooting a capsule-rigged ship without a capsuleer. I only that if they were found, it would be by decent people. That they would not suffer a fate worse than death if found. I searched for words, hoping I could say something to put them at ease. I found nothing.

I looked back at the main viewscreen, seeing Garst’s ship floating, lifeless. His pod sat halfway between his ship and mine, waiting. I looked down at his face on my comm. “Okay.” I said, letting go of all of my reservations. I jumped into my pod and ejected, and watched as the Kergueren drifted away from me. I felt a heavy regret. I moved towards Garst’s pod, stopping a kilometer away. Punching the command into my computer, I looked at my comm as Garst initiated contact once again.

“See you on the other side,” he said grimly. I nodded, and then closed my eyes.

--

I awoke back in Emrayur at the Royal Amarr Institute, the school I had graduated after becoming a capsuleer. I blinked, my new eyes adjusting to the light. I climbed out of the cloning vat and stretched. I had a new body. I felt a slight displeasure at the fact that I had lost my original body, the one God gave me. It was now floating out in some unknown system, most likely never to be found again.

Little did I know that a corporation would come across our ships. When Garst learned that our ships had been found, he went about trying to secure their return. He was unable to retrieve the Omen, but he was allowed to purchase the Kergueren, giving it to me as a souvenir of our trip. I still have the ship tucked safely away in a hangar. I do not still have the crew. Fate would laugh at us a few days later as an upgrade to the scanner would make the identification and sorting of cosmic signatures much easier, a feature we could have used at the beginning.

As I walked down the hall towards my new capsule, I looked down at my hands; uncallused, clean, fresh. "Time to break these in."