The Monolith

Whilst the Eve Gate is certainly the main attraction of the little Genesis cul-de-sac, there is another little curious site. Nestled in an off-shoot of the original trail, is a floating black monolith.

I had dropped out of the militia without too much fuss. One less mercenary didn't warrant much fanfare. I may join up with another corp whilst I do my last errands in New Eden, but I doubt I’ll try.

Solo capsuleer to the end really.

The trip from Hek to Genesis was fairly uneventful. Surprisingly there was a rather poor attempt at a gate camp leading into the Eve Gate constellation. Not very competent, they managed to lock my Astero up, but a quick burn back to the gate got me free without even the shields getting scratched.

I think if something like that happens again, I’ll get the names of the capsuleers doing it. Not out of any naming and shaming, but I think they’d enjoy the notoriety. There might be something in that.

Back to the monolith.

The system is Dead End. Clearly our ancestors found nothing of value here, and named the system accordingly.

For my part, I didn't stay long. Low-sec is never really good space to hang around, even if you are flying in cloaked ship. And I was eager to get to my end point. I stuck around long enough to note the pirates hanging around the monolith, and get a snapshot.

The pirates were Blood Raiders, by the way. The bounties were worth about 500k all together. I can’t speculate as to their interest in the monolith, but there's probably a story there. I was already on my way to the Eve Gate before it occurred to me to have a closer look around the system.

I tried to tell myself I would do that next time. But 'next time' wasn't the purpose of this trip.

Awakening

... bright lights.

Rolling hills, blue skies.

The hum of the propeller. No... the faint scent of the moa racing ahead.

A barren wasteland? Mountains? The thrill of dice clattering to the table top.

Songs being sung through school halls. Piles of paperwork. The sweaty heat of a Sunday afternoon chained to a desk, dreaming of-

... stars.

I awoke in the pod a few days ago. Coughing, and hacking up dried-pod connection fluid, I emerged onto the hangar floor, collapsing as my atrophied limbs failed me.

Disuse had decayed what little muscle I had saved since becoming a capsuleer. Skin hanging like rags around me.

And the dull realization creeping though my gut that I no longer cared. I no longer recognized this body as a part of me. Rather, it was property, to be worn, and discarded when it no longer served it's purpose. The daily grind to maintain this soggy container of my concious seemed hardly worth the effort. Why bother eating? The savage hunger pangs of starvation can be barely recalled when a fresh clone is activated.

I looked back at the pod.

So that was the Sleeper experience.

To fold oneself into the world apart from New Eden. To have fevered dreams of ancient atmosphere craft, and to experienced wild fantasies of swords and sorcery. To revel in the simple pleasure of a well-run school, and the relatively mundane, yet sublime struggles of a normal life.

It was... attractive.

I somehow managed to drag myself to a food prep station, more out of habit than any real desire to feed. A thick salty broth eased some of this body's desperate cries, and over the next few hours, I placed ever more solid chunks of nourishment in my screaming gut. Dogmatic training super-cedes emotion in times like this, and I had been born Khanid, trained as a knight, and had long been taught to keep my body in good health. My body saw to its needs whilst my mind wandered.

I had been gone long this time. Longer than before. The sleeps were coming on more rapidly too. The gap this time just a few months, and the sleep itself nearly as long.

It's difficult to describe the sensation of knowing your end is close. Not even much of an end. More of a tiring slide into suspension. Not even the rigors and passions of youth declining into old age, but simply... stopping.

I dragged myself to the console, pulling up my public log. Readers still came and still commented. Strange how much that still meant, as if the human connection was all that mattered. Perhaps I always felt that way.

I am... reluctant to leave.

Too much I haven't done.

Too much I haven't seen.

So much... but I doubt there's time left.

Eventually, the sleeps would take me. And for all I know the kind, if somber, staff of Doomheim would find the nearest wormhole and release my body to the strange stations scattered beyond easy reach. Perhaps I should just take a shuttle out to the nearest blue star like the poor soul trapped in Geztic.

Well.

Now what?

Seems like only one thing to do.

Everything.

The Geztic Shuttle

There is  mysterious shuttle orbiting the sun in Geztic.

It flies in an orbit around a beacon, almost on top of the sun. Aura, the ship-board computer, registers it as a pirate target, displaying it as a red cross.

It doesn't respond to hails, weapons will not fire on it, nor do any modules. After some reading, I found other capsuleers found that using ECM on it seemed to affect it. Which is curious in itself.

Aura states that there is a single life-sign, which shows signs of a cryogenicaly frozen mind.

If you're curious, I do suggest reading more about what other capsuleers have written. I only note it here, since it was the most interesting thing I found in the Khanid region.

I found it unsettling. Such a mysterious, and apparently indestructible, ship, barely 5 jumps from the Khanid homelands... and within 10 jumps of all the other major households Prime systems.

Far more scholarly men than me can surely make more sense of this. I simply find it disturbing, and too close to home.

Promotion

I had a pleasant surprise once I reached my staging station. I've been promoted to Arch Lieutenant.

This involved a typically long winded Amarrian ceremony, with more hymns and praising God than is bearable for any involved, at the end of which the rank insignia was, with great pomp and grandiosity, clipped to my uniform.

An Amarr insignia. On my Khanid uniform. The King will not doubt smile at that.

Once I managed to escape from the various priests and other recently commissioned Junior officers, I retreated back to my quarters.

The insignia itself is quite an ornate little thing, and has an inscription on the back:

"The word of the Lord is pure,It is a shield for the faithful,Brought unto men by the Angels,As a guiding light in the darkness""- The Scriptures, Prophet Anoyia 8:15

There is definitely a similarity to my families oath. The Arcani believe in bringing the light of understanding and knowledge to dark places.

Knowlegde certainly can be a shield to those who believe in it, but I rather believe in knowledge given to me by men, rather than that of Angels. No disrespect meant to Angels, but from what I've read of the Holy Texts, at least half of them do not have humanities best interests at heart.

The capitalization on Angels is also rather curious. The obvious link is to the Angel Cartel, an organization waist deep in rumors of Jovian secrets. But that gets into the realm of fantasy and deep conspiracy. Still, it might bear looking into. I can't really find when the Prophet's scriptures were written.

The rest of Prophet Anoyia's scriptures start off in simple church propaganda, talking about the the great Emperor leading the people in God's stead. They finish on a more general note of good behavior, referring to the Amar as the 'Chosen', and a call of obedience.

Either way, I appreciate the guiding light of knowledge being part of the Amarr war philosophy, if not entirely part of their practice.

That Angel line does have me curious though.