Somewhere deep in Silph territory, a war lasting three years is coming to its final stages.
"Nightie are you in system?" the comm boards all read green. The cloak still holding, she breaks radio silence as she hears her commanders voice. "yes, system clear. Board green". She quietly thinks to herself. 'I shouldn't even be here. Sure the isk is good but if Starbuck ever found out he'd kill me.' The comm sputters to life and the commanders voice is clear "goons on their way in, keep steady and stay silent.". Not hard she thinks. the system gate goes active and she begins to count as the ships jump in to report the numbers back to the fleet. "One, Two, Three... Forty... that's a lot of goons.". She watches as they begin to set up towers and POS arrays in system. Attempting to shift faction. Then it happens, a blip, then another and all eyes are on her.
The goon commander messages his fleet "Its too quiet and this is way too easy. keep scanning all systems. They're out there". A few minutes later he gets a reply. "One in system sir, a Manticore." his response was quick and to the point "find it, and kill it". The fleet of goons rubbed their hands together in anticipation of a kill. One breaks the silence and says in a sneer "With pleasure."
The last thing she hears as her cloak drops and her weapons come hot is her commanders voice "Nightie! get out! get out dammit! they have probers!...Nightie...!". There is however no escape, she knows they have already put spheres on the gates. Gritting her teeth she heads to their towers. With the hope to at least cause as much damage as she can to the operation before being blasted into dust. Cruise missiles thundering from her ships bays as the manticores' shields drop in seconds. The kinetic and thermal rail rounds easily melting her armor and ripping through the hull. The ship shreds around her, leaving her pod to be locked and destroyed.
Elsewhere, the CVA has standing orders "Leave nothing alive". The station shook and the lights dimmed. Her eyes fluttered open only to see her beloved tower in reinforcement. The shells and missiles falling like rain upon her POS. The clone vat bringing her active lurches to one side and the wall behind her vanishes. The capsule, linked computers and its contents are ripped out into hard vacuum. The computer locks the door to the vat shut and goes into backup. A fail safe that was designed should the station loose power for an extended time. She slams her fists into the glass, screaming into the clone gel. Shortly the gel begins to freeze in the depths of space. Shoving hard upon the glass, clawing with her nails. She utters one last scream before the icy cold and darkness take her..."NNNOOOO!"
********************************************************************************** five years later **********************************************************************************
Deep in a complex recently cleaned of drones. A salvage crew works overtime to reclaim as many resources as possible. "Sir I'm registering a life sign, biometric.". The captain of the team looks on his scanners only to see nothing. "A human? What kind of ship signature? I got nothing.". The corporeal replies quickly in double smart time not wanting to miss an opportunity to show off his skills. "Yes sir its human, as for ship. Its a clone pod sir". The captain sighs and shrugs. Biomass out this far is a regularity, why bring it to his attention? He decides to humor the corporeal just to pick on him later about it. "So what?". The response from his underlings ship unnerves him and sends a chill down his spine as he stares at the speaker. "its active sir.". The way clone vats are, if its active there is nothing inside, as the person has come out of it and gone about life. Then it shuts down a few hours later. If it is inactive it is either waiting to be activated, in which case the clone is technically not alive. Or its just released its contents mere hours before. He speaks slowly to make sure he heard the corporeal correctly "Active? What do you mean active?". The corporeal scans again to be sure and taps the gauges on his equipment. "Its registering as alive sir. Orders?" . The captain turns his salvage lasers off and heads in the corporeals' direction. "This I gotta see, bring it aboard and return to station, immediately.".
Quickly the corporeal reacts, "What about the rest of the salvage?".
The captain looks grim at the rest of the floating debris but doesn't wish to pass up a unique opportunity. "There wasn't anymore salvage, do you read corporeal?"
A bit aghast the corporeal snaps into the mic "Sir, yes sir. Tractor beam is out and bringing it aboard. See you in a few jumps sir.".
"Sir according the the vats data module, it went active just as the station it was attached to suffered massive critical failure.". The tech spoke trying to keep it simple. These hard labor kind, they were all the same. All work and no play, All muscle and no brain. However the man did outrank him so he tried to be polite.
"So what your telling me is. This girl died, and her clone activated at the absolute same moment the station blew up?". The captain wasn't a simpleton and hated being talked down to. However, in this case he wanted to make sure the egghead was being clear. Reports are often overlooked, but something like this would be scrutinized. He wanted to make sure without a doubt he was hearing the geek correctly.
Idiot, the tech thought to himself. Steadying his nerves so as not to seem insubordinate "Yes, seems that way sir.".
Running his fingers along the the old shell of the medical vat and staring at the ghostly visage within. The captain speaks to it softly as he observes her body in stasis. Twisted and stricken, locked in eternal sleep with panic, terror, and horror permanently etched upon her marble features. "Who are you? What secrets do you keep? What horrible life did you lead for the gods to punish such a beautiful angel?". He looks up at the tech who stands idly by. "Do we know anything else?"
The tech adjusts his glasses and taps a couple of times upon his data pad. "Shes Caldari, Dietis, her name is Nightie, Nightie Walker. According to the pods computer it came active and immediately went into backup. Five years ago.".
"Then we will take her to Todaki station. They'll know what to do with her and how to handle this.". He didn't really like it but having something like this in his cargo bay made him uneasy. There were no concord out this far and calling for help might be too late should something go wrong.
The tech looks up at the graying man and tilts his head. Not the response he was looking for, he wanted to thaw her out and study her. Chances are she wont survive long after they bring her to temp anyhow. This was a great opportunity to study the effects of deep slumber chambers and Isomorph sickness. Questioningly he can only spit out a flabbergasted "Sir?"
The captain sees the frustration on the mans face. An expression of a person who is being robbed. "Look, I'm not thawing her out here. Cant you see shes been traumatized? Do you want to be the one to tell her shes been in there for five years? no? I thought not. Besides, we don't know what sort of person she was. I'm not about to release a criminal, terrorist, or other sort of deranged maniac. Especially, not in this small of a station so far from concord. Let her be a high sec desk jockeys problem. I've got enough to worry about. Without the threat of some half crazed nutter crawling about in the vents tearing up my station.".
Todaki, hub of caldari space. The shining gem of the caldari empire. The beeping of machinery, the flow of an air pump. Lights so bright from above. The smell of antiseptic and clone gel. The lead doctor speaks calmly "shes coming up, bring her temp up slowly. We don't want to risk shock at this point.". A flurry of action and a female voice "yes doctor.".
I blink and look about with wild eyes. No real thoughts except 'escape'. I try to force my body to move but its slow to respond. Years of neglect and frozen nerve damage. The doctor is quick to sedate and restrain me. Even my voice escapes me as I gasp instead of scream. Once again I am claimed by darkness. Sitting up in my bed with a jolt. The light from the sun pours into the hospital room. Glancing about the room I realize i'm in a hospital staying room. A man in a white coat enters who I can only imagine is my attending. He reads over my chart and before I can speak he opens his mouth and states. "Your a remarkable woman. Not many could have survived what you went through.". He sees the pained and cornered look in my eyes and continues slowly "Please, take it easy. Your at Todaki station, in the caldari state. Your safe.".
The word almost as foreign to me as the room I currently reside within. Cocking my head and speaking as if a small child. "Safe?". The word struggles to my lips as the nightmare that I had lived for so long begins to fade.
The doctor puts down the chart and moves to examine my eyes and reflexes. "Do you remember your name?"
The answer snaps from my mouth as if trained to repeat it over and over. Obvious military regimen. "I am Nightie, Nightie Walker. Ship captain and director of Upay. Ceo of Yaktech and O-L-D".
He looks down and sighs a deep breath before speaking again. It seems he was wrestling with how to tell me what he had to say next. "Yes, well miss Walker. We have gone over everything with a fine comb. The state, The federation, and even the Amarr empire have been very helpful. It seems that you apparently know some very influential people. To which you are held in good standing all over the galaxy. However, your in for no small shock miss Walker. Your clone vat was found and recovered a few weeks ago. Unfortunately, you were frozen inside for five years...".
He rattled on and on, but that was all I heard. 'five years', I wasn't sure where to start or or even what to say. So much changes from one day to the next in new eden. What could I expect in five years? An orderly enters my room, setting upon my side table a stack of folded clothes. I stand and begin to dress slowly. The orderly leaves and returns, dropping a large file box upon the table with an audible thud. I am jolted back to the sound of the doctors voice and my reality..."and with that being said. Here are your clothes, tags, pilots license, and a box of your old things we managed to recover.".
I fumble within the box. I put on my belt and holster my serrator 50, and sheath my sword. I put on my wrist sheathes and slide my stilettos into their home and pull my sleeves over them. I don my wrist computer and turn to face him as he speaks again. "Your recovery has been quite rapid and miraculous, miss Walker. However, the clone that you were found in had severe and irreparable nerve damage. Recovering your Psyche was not cheap or easy. I'm sorry to say that some of your skills may not be what they once were. As well as those around you, should there be anyone left that you knew. Will have surpassed you".
I look at him dumbly and speak again with the small voice of a nieve child. "Anyone left?".
He sighs and looks at me as if my own father chiding me for being foolish. "Yes, miss Walker. Without you, your corporations went belly up. Anyone who may have known anything about them denied all knowledge, or no longer exist. Sadly Nightie, your employment history while extensive yielded no contacts save one. Though we were not able to reach them. The only corporation on your list that remains active is UPAY. You might want to start there. Concord has agreed to release your estate to you.". He looks grim then continues watching my reactions carefully "Or whats left of it, after medical costs, taxes, and the politicians get done with it. You will find miss Walker, when you step out that door, you'll be in a completely different new eden.". With the last statement he hands me a data pad. "For starters, we no longer use wrist computers. Data pads, direct link to station microwave emitters. Real time updates and information. No more need to dock and upload or download anything.". He pauses as i play with the new technology for a few minutes. Detecting my growing frustration he says "Your old computer will work the way it always has. But, do try to catch up. Training new pilots is all well and good, but many have no patience for retraining old pilots.".
I am released from the hospital and fly to the hangars where the remainder of my estate is stored. It isn't as much as i remember it being but, five years will grind isk like a mining laser on veldspar. It doesn't help that my corps are bankrupt. I chase down the papers for my corporations and get to work. Gathering all that I can from the impound yards and selling it off as quickly as possible to wipe the debt clean. I go to yaklord technologies and update the automaton's skills and relieve her of command of my mother corp. I place her in charge of my drone mining facility. Which while she is the only member will recover nicely from the gross embezzlement that left it hollow and broken. Looking down at my meager holdings within the hangar I sigh and speak softly. "So, Tiger, I hope to all things holy that your still out there.". I plug my wrist computer into the main and send out a message to my very old friend. Observing the record sheets for yaktech. The red in the ledger is blinding. I frown at all the bad choices made in my absence. Poor spending, cessation of manufacturing and devastatingly high costs for rent allowed its assets to be seized. I sigh and look at the red across the board. Dropping my head to my hands at my desk I mumble "I need Beth.".
FIVE YEARS EARLIER
In a courtroom at a concord facility a gavel is bringing a hearing to session. A blonde rough looking caldari is brought before tribunal in chains. "Bethany Walker, Alias Evil Beth, Alias Wraith. You are found guilty of crimes against the caldari state, the gallente federation, the amarrian empire, the minmatar republic, ORE mining and manufacturing, the sisters of eve, The Red alliance, numerous small corps, and even concord itself. You are to be stripped of all titles, your assets to be siezed and divided amongst your victims as recompense. You are hereby court martialed and your pilot license suspended indefinitely. You are to remain a prisoner for life, held within the caldari state without parole. Your clones have been found and destroyed. Do you have any last requests before you are taken away?".
She speaks with a wry smile, letting the words fly without hesitation, "I want to be at your funeral". An uproarious din thundered from up from the crowd. The judge slams his gavel down as Beth is hit from behind with the butt of a rifle. She is dragged away, her final words, ringing out in screams. "When Nightie comes for me, You'll pay. You'll all pay! Nightie WILL come for me! You cant hold me! Nightie will see to it!"
I have been the warden of this facility for the last ten years. I cannot remember a time that any prisoner escaped, or that was sentenced like Beth, to ever have left here. I stare at the blip on my radar and look over the docking requests, "A minmatar shuttle? That must be her.". With a heavy sigh I hit the button on the speaker to the dock workers. "Grant her permission to land, she doesn't need ident clearance.". I wait for the shuttle to come to a stop as it lands with ease. I stare out the window of my office sipping cold black coffee. "So Nightie has come for you at last.". i say quietly as I turn and look up at the camera to the eroded blonde woman within.
Nightie arrived on the concord station. Wearing a simple pair of black cargo pants, t-shirt and flight vest covered by a deep green velvet robe, almost looking like the countess De Winter from that old musketeer movie. She is searched and security scanned, twice. A horrid looking man speaks with a snear "Can never be too careful, with you criminal types.". Handing her back her ident card and looking into her steely eyes he licks his lips. "Oh I cant wait for those that protect you to one day turn their back. I will personally take very good care of you.". She enters the gate as the man opens it. Smiling politely but saying nothing, not wanting an upset this close to her goal. Especially not for the likes of a perverted guard. The favors she cashed in for this were not easy to come by and she really only had one chance at this. Her standings with concord are so poor that the representatives that currently help her in the background are working overtime. I speak into a radio calling down to the guard "Bring her up to my office. I'll need her to fill out some papers.".
I muse to myself that after so much time this woman has appeared upon my shuttle dock. Years of Beths torment and hateful treatment at the hands of my guards and officers. I cant imagine why this woman took so long to appear. With the way Beth spoke and behaved I would have thought she would have swooped in on the wings of a Nyx and blasted my little forgotten station into a plasma cloud years ago. The woman steps silently upon padded boots along the narrow hall of the main bulwark. She is escorted through the labrynth of my little dungeon encapsulated within an oubliette. The guard smiles and whacks her on the ass as he leaves with a sly grin. "See you later.". He sniffs the air as if detecting something rotting, then speaks again. "Mmmm your cunt smells good from here. I might just have to make a trip to the loo, heh heh heh.". His very words turn my stomach, however, I did put him at the receiving station for the simple reason that he is exceedingly abrasive. I sigh visibly as I close the door and escort the very dignified looking woman to the chair opposite my desk. she removes her hood and her scarlet hair seems to unravel with the motion and spill down her shoulders. The eyes on this woman are piercing. The steel grey is such a contrast to her features. She reminds me of staring into a candle flame, pure white topped with a dancing red cap. The steel grey of her eyes matching that currently of the ashen ember upon the wick. I can see how so many men fall prey to her trade. I stand and stammer for a moment. I cough and then pull the chair out for her to sit. She slides into the chair with a grace I have rarely seen from one who is not Ammarrian royalty. While she moves like water she speaks like rain. Soft, delicate, yet punctuated with the elegance of someone who blankets each word with their very heart and soul. She tells me of the woman she has come to claim. By the way she speaks and the words she uses, you'd think that this Beth, were a messenger from god. She hands me some papers though I know they are only a formality. I was told she was coming. I was told she was going to remove one of my most reviled prisoners. I was told that she was to receive any measure of hospitality she requested with no question or hesitation. I was told my life depended upon it. As I look at this woman i cant help my eyes slipping along her smooth features. However every time I do i find myself staring deep into those hardened steel eyes. I swear she is judging my soul with them and they will probably haunt me to my dying day. My voice catches in my throat as I watch in abscessed horror. Damn the time, the prisoners are all heading to their cells. Each getting ready for bed though only six o'clock. They are not harassed by guards and most even unescorted. The cellmates slide their bars back into place and settle down on their beds as a guard nonchalantly locks each one uncontested by the convict within. She notices, she twists her head in a question. Not speaking a word as she watches the bizzare behavior of my inmates.
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Just as she opens her mouth, it rises. The sound of an angel caught and imprisoned within the confines of my horrible tomb. The sound reverberates through the vents and echos within the whole station. Each prisoner silenced by the beauty of it. Each guard stunned and haunted by the effect it has upon the population. We, for the last four and a half years have stood, in a forced and demanded silence, by this womans voice. Watching the air vents waiting to see if a creature of glory would pour through them and appear before us demanding retrobution.
Nightie shifts almost uncomfortably in her chair and speaks with a ghostly whisper "my mothers lullaby". I watch as this woman before me is almost reduced to a child. Her hardened features slough away, her eyes soften and begin to twitch as a tear forms. She trembles as she reaches for a pen to sign the papers setting upon my desk. Of which, I had not handed to her yet. She wants to get this woman, and be gone from my terrible world. I too shake and sign the paperwork. I say nothing as she rises. I escort her down to the bowels of my station. The haunting sound of this angelic voice continuing to hammer our very souls. I cant help but shed a tear, all this time never knowing why this woman would sing. Beaten, raped, degraded, and sent to the darkest corner of my hell. Chained, neck, hand and foot, bound to the wall from the same material that starship armor is made. In her first six months she attempted escape 5 times, killed 14 other prisoners. Too volatile to approach much less keep with the general populous. Then, the singing began, we couldn't help but wonder what manner of creature the devil had sent us. As I stand before her cell door I tremble and shake visibly, weeping as I fumble with the key. The only prisoner in this corner of the station, and the only prisoner I fear. I realize now, she sings for her Nightie, her savior. I let the door swing free and Nightie enters. She rips her eyes from the woman before her. Huddled in a wet dank corner of her permanant cell. Covered in filth, hugging her knees face buried in her folded arms. Her unkempt hair cascades like a skein of golden matted straw about her, like an old sodden mop. She continues to sing, not acknowledging our presence till the last note rings from her lungs.
Nightie kneels softly, and whispers to her. Some words of shushing, she cries as she holds my prisoner. It is at this moment I cannot wait for her to be free of this place. I am left wondering what manner of world would have sent her here. I cannot even begin to think how much I have hated this woman for the last 5 years. Now how much I hate to see her go, but knowing that she indeed does not belong here. A thing of beauty, Nightie gently lifts her chin and kisses her cracked lips with a tender kiss. I hear Beth speak words outside of her song for the first time in four and a half years. Almost a torn whisper, dragged through the ashes of tarterus to her mouth. "Nightie is that really you?". The question is simple and the reply almost brings me to my knees, "yes bunny...ive come for you". Obviously a pet name, of some importance. I dare not enter and nightie takes my keys, unlocking the girl and scooping her up with a smile and tears. She speaks one last time as she steps past me, their haunted silhouettes burning into my mind as they disappear down the corridor. "Come, sweet darling Beth, what works one day in beurocracy does not work the next.". I close the door numbly and head back to my office. I finish my coffee and gaze out my window as their shuttle lifts off never to return. Knowing she was coming I took the liberty of recording her angelic Beth. I cannot afford a riot in my prison and taking away the only beautiful thing in this drab disgusting place would kill us all.