It's difficult to describe the setting, there are so few details to depict. There is no weather to follow, for this is cold, empty space. There isn't much of a view either, just the simple scene of the pilot lounge; Sofa seats and regular shaped coffee tables evenly spaced across the bland metallic room. Either the architect or the interior designer must have lacked that speck of creativity, because something went wrong. The place felt dead. It would have been more so if the place wasnt swarmed with people, but alas - this is Hek. My temporary residence after the migration up from Curse.
"Sir." It took a while for me to snap out of wonderland and look over my shoulder. A middle sized Caldari man stood before me, short military style hair and cold stony eyes. I recognised him to be a crew member of mine - a new guy recommended by one of my subordinates. I'm having trouble trying to recollect his name and file.
"Please, we're not in the military. Take a seat, mate." I beckoned him to the seat across from me. I tried a smile. "So what brings me the pleasure of your company?"
"I heard you purchased one of those Myrmidon ships the other day," he said. It was a statement, not a question - straight to the point i guess.
My gaze had wondered over to the reinforced 12" thick glass window beside me at this point, taken aback at the sudden tranquility of the dream-like spectacle. Ships orbitting the station, sun light gently touching their armoured hulls. Instruments of war and death, transfigured into pretty flowers in a field, birds in the sky. I take back my comments on the view.
"Sir?" His voice snapped me back into reality. It was true, I had purchased a Gallentean Battlecruiser. But don't get me wrong, i honestly don't intend on flying it full-time, nor part-time yet for that matter. I still have a little longer to wait, the skillpack (Energy Management) currently plugged into my neural rig jack will take another 2 days to complete. I still have several skills and abilities I want under my belt before taking my Myrmi out on a serious operation.
I explained the situation to him, and he took it all in without a change in facial expression, nor an expression of opinion either.
"What skills you planning on uploading?" he asked, his face blank and unaltering.
"Well, the ones on the list; completion of Signature analysis 4, and then I'm gonna be focussing on Energy management and Thermodynamics. Can't go wrong with extra boost to performace. You with electronics?" I asked.
"Mechanics."
"Right. Sorry." I still couldn't place a name.
He continued, as if without interruption. "So we've still got a while to wait yet. Guess we'll be stuck on Flint a while longer." Flint, my recently attained personal Thorax Cruiser, my pride and joy. I've only taken it on short flights lately, not daring to risk anything quite so soon. Not until i'm satisfied with the support skills.
We continued to discuss possible skill-paths and routes in development for a while longer, occasionally glancing at the passing Battleships out the oval window.
"I'll be off then, sir. It's been a pleasure." He finally rose to his feet, gave a curt nod and a salute, and smiled. I moved my arms awkwardly toward my head, taken aback from the sudden display of emotion. He slipped out between the chair and table, and strode away towards the exit lift. Harrison, Scott Harrison. That was his name.
*Cue joyous, spasticated air-punching.
No comments:
Post a Comment