Ascension: Fan Fiction Blog Fest #1
This is the first entry in the Eve Fan Fiction Blogfest series. Every month a topic is proposed and Bloggers who enjoy writing fan fiction create a short-story based on a particular theme. For more information, see this Eve Monkey blog post.
This months theme was.
Write the story of the life of a stripper in this Minmatar station
I hope you enjoy it!
It was a Monday, I’ll never forget that day. I had spent the latter part of the afternoon in my favorite spot on a hill just outside the City limits. I did not go very often, but I liked it there, it was peaceful and had a perfect view over the forest of sky scrapers as they framed the sunset. It would have made a very popular destination for those hoping to escape the rush of city life, except for the fact that it was a cemetary. All these dead bodies, the envy of the town with the prime real estate that they occupied and yet the envy of no one at the same time. But, for some reason I loved it here, it was a feeling that the cycle of life was as it should be. I loved reading the inscriptions on each grave, some boasting of deeds done, some regretful, some hopeful, all sorrowful. In some strange way I felt that this was the only place I could be understood. Sometimes I longed for the release of death, the spirits of these people were truly free.
I was a slave, a household servant. Sure, I had heard the Empress Jamyl’s declaration freeing all slaves of the ninth generation or younger, and being of the tenth generation, on paper I was a free woman. Then it became apparent that on the fringes of empire space, old habits die hard. They did not directly disregard the Empress’s edict, no, they would not be so openly disloyal to the head of their race. Instead, we were freed, sent out into the world without the support of our old masters, without jobs, without money.
There were too few of us and we held too little power to change our situation. To eat, we needed money, to get money, we needed a job and the demand for the work we were used to was not high at all. And so we returned to what we had always known. I went back to the family from whom I had been freed and begged for employment, as did most of the others I knew. In their infinite wisdom and mercy, they found the compassion in their hearts to employ us and provide a roof over our heads. And then every last one of our former masters withheld our money in payment for the accommodation and food they provided us, and we became slaves once again in all but name. Some of the others were able to change their fortune, mostly by a lucky break or by stowing away on a shuttle bound for the outpost orbiting our planet.
I remember lying back on the hill that day and staring up at the outpost as it became visible in the setting sun. I started crying – I cried more than I had ever done before, out of despair, out of anger, out of desperation. It was long after the sun had gone down that I made my way back down into the city. I had over-stayed my allotted free time but I did not care. My master, sorry… “employer” would probably not miss me for another hour or so, when dinner did not appear on the table. I headed without thinking towards the space port. I don’t know what possessed me to do this except the fact that I needed to get out of there.
I had been to the space port a number of times, but not since the “freeing” of the slaves. It had changed greatly. where there were once orderly lines of travelers and those workers that commuted to the outpost, there were now masses of homeless and impoverished ex-slaves hoping for a lucky break. I was one of them now, the only difference being that I had relatively clean clothes and had been able to have a decent meal recently. I was still equally desperate however, and when the man came up to me I didn’t hesitate to take him up on the opportunity he presented. He said he was from the Minmatar republic, he said that he had a transport ship waiting, ready to take a small number of ex-slaves to new homes in the republic. He told me to go to docking bay S3 and to ask for “Targa”. I believed him, I believed that asshole. I went to that docking bay and found Targa, and the next thing I knew I was I woke up in a holding cell as the ship was taking off. There were dozens of us all handcuffed in cages, lined up in rows. Most of us were young women about the same age as me.
The ship shuddered as it entered warp and I knew we were not heading for the outpost above the planet. “Brace yourself ladies” came the voice over the speakers. “You’re about to go through your first jump bridge.” a gut wrenching, dizziness came over me and I passed out. After many hours and many more jumps, the ship came to a stop and we felt what must have been the automatic docking computer take over, maneuvering the ship into a station. We had no knowledge of where we were. We were filled into a room where it was explained to us that we were now slaves again. We were now property of the Guristas pirates and were to be sold at an auction the following day.
I was one of the lucky ones. I was sold to the owner of a sleazy strip joint for a grand total of one isk. one isk was about a years salary for an average Amarian on my home planet, and of course it was more than any slave could ever hope to see in a lifetime, but apparently I was worth this much. And so, the outpost in YAO-XJ became my home and my prison for what seemed like an age. They made me dance, they made me dance for those filthy grease monkeys working in the maintenance bays of star ships, their learing eyes and their grubby reaching hands. For three months they made me do this. I danced, I danced well too, and I hated myself for it. I say I was lucky, because I was not touched. They said with a greedy grin that I was worth more to them unspoiled. It was not until I had been there for 3 months that I found out what they meant by that.
It was a Friday, I’ll never forget that day either. It was the day I was to change from being an exotic dancer into a whore. As my initial sale had been explained to me with impassiveness, this also was explained to me in a cold-matter of fact manner. The bastard. He told me that I was to be present at the transaction and so I went. I had already made up my mind. This was my breaking point. I would kill my new owner before he could violate me and then I would kill myself and be done with this life.
The man who entered the room was Achura, the first of that race I had seen. He was flanked by two armed guards who spread out and stood on either side of the door. What drew my attention however was the obvious neural implants visible above his left eye. This was a Capsuleer. I was in awe, this was a living legend, and this was the first pod pilot I had seen in the flesh. His eyes as cold and calculating as the stories had described, his manner as sure and so utterly confident. I was repulsed so completely I physically withdrew in revulsion and horror as he walked further into the room. This was a god among men and he was about to purchase me for pleasure. These men and women that I had idolised, envied even, were nothing but the same as other men and women, corrupted and depraved.
He turned and looked at me, his eyes showing a glimmer of life as he raised his eyebrow.
“So it’s settled then” he said to my owner
“Yes sir, as we agreed sir”
“…And, she is unspoiled?”
“yes sir, she has been dancing for three months but has never been whored out sir.”
“Good. let’s finish this business then”
The Capsuleer tapped on the small electronic tablet he carried in his hand.
“The funds have been transferred, one hundred-thousand isk”
The owner checked his desk computer briefly. and the capsuleer turned his gaze to me but I could not read his expression.
“Thank you sir, you’re welcome to come back any time to enjoy any of our other women for free should you like it s..”.
“… uh sir? this is my office”. The capsuleer the guards raised their eyebrows and shifted their weight.
“I said leave us”.
My former owner did not need to be asked a third time and exited the room, bumping his desk in his hurry to leave.
The capsuleer’s gaze had not left me and he stared, cold and calculating. I met his gaze for as long as I could, but soon I dropped my eyes.
“fuck you” I said half under my breath.
At this, the capsuleer smiled.
“Ahh, good! I was concerned that your will may have been entirely broken, but it seems I have arrived just in time. I am Akura. What is your name girl?”
“Mikayla” I mumbled, no one had asked me my name for years.
“Mikayla, I am here to offer you a deal. I have bought you for what would be a fortune on your home world. I have bought you in order to set you free.”
“I had your DNA sampled and analysed. Mikayla, you have a rare set of genes. a particularly rare set. So rare in fact that in the known universe, only a few hundred thousand have this particular genetic predisposition.”
I sneered, thinking he was making fun of me.
“And what predisposition is that?”
“one that gives you particularly strong mental stamina. it’s a set of genes that I have too. as do all capsuleers”.
This took a moment to sink in.
“wait…. you didn’t buy me to be your sex slave?” it was taking a very long time to sink in. The Capsuleer looked disgusted.
“You’ll find that the pleasures of the flesh are abhorred by most Capsuleers. In our Capsules we command starships, fire missile volleys with a single thought, we are protected by our ships shields and armour and fleets of drones. Outside, we are just pieces of meat, repulsive, weak. It doesn’t interest me in the slightest. The only reason I’m not in my capsule now is because of you.”
“I am offering you freedom and a choice. You are from this moment forward a free woman. I will gift you with one hundred-thousand isk to give you a head start with whatever life you will lead from now on, and should you wish it, I will arrange for you to be transported by people I trust to any system in any empire with your identity changed to whatever you desire. There is no obligation on your part, no questions asked. you are free.”
“what’s the choice then?” I asked, not daring to hope.
“…Or, you can come and work with me. I will pay for you to receive training and neural implants that will allow you in time to become the pilot of your own capsule. I will also buy you your first ship and be your mentor and guide through the web of politics that we capsuleers weave.”
“…and what do you get in return?”
His face softened, a flicker of emotion passed accross his brow.
“Please understand I am not trying to buy your loyalty. The isk that I give you is a pittance, Capsuleers make immense fortunes without a thought, I will give you ten times that amount if you ask, but it is worth nothing . What I want, cannot be bought.”
“What is it that you want then?”
“People you can trust are few and far between in the ring of lawless space outside the empires, even between fellow pod pilots. I hope for a friend and ally. This is something more valuable than you can imagine. And in return, I offer you the same.”
with this, Akura bowed deeply, a gesture of respect, respect that I had never received in my life.
“I have arranged quarters for you while you make your decision. the transport I have prepared for you will be ready to undock at 07:00 tomorrow. If you choose that path, the docking bay is I-83. If you choose the way of a Capsuleer, meet me at docking bay MH-42 at the same time in the morning and I’ll show you around your new frigate.”
It was a Wednesday. Another day I will not forget. I buried my corpse in the cemetary on that hill on my home planet. It was something I needed to do. The rifter Akura bought me did not last long, nor did my first pod. but the bounties on the Guristas pirates I killed before I died were more than enough to replace both my ship and buy a new clone.
I threw a flower on my grave. A releasing of my past. I looked up at the stars once more, and with a sense of release, I knew, I was truly free.
Other Fan Fiction Blog Fest Participants for October 2009:
Akura Kawanaka (Eve Monkey): Ascension
Chainer (Corrupted Datacore): Lingering Chill
Jorshan (Industrialisms): The Cage
Manasi (A Mule in EvE): Breaking Free
Mikeazariah (A Missioneer in Eve): Stripper
Prometheus09 (The Captains Log): Honey Trap