My Story (Part 4)

I finish my drink and decide to head back to my quarters. Tonight is too introspective of a night for me to be out in public.  I turn down the hallway and hear footsteps behind me. Well, it’s a busy station. No reason for alarm. I continue on my way, punching in the code for my door. It closes behind me, and I punch in the lock code again.  There; my door is locked now. I sit down on the sofa and put my feet up.  I rest my head on the cushion behind me and close my eyes. Perhaps it’s time to take a rest.

                I stand over her unconscious body. I could kill her; I should kill her. One less Amarrian to enslave another one of us; but I love her still. Even after everything, I still love her. I pace back and forth, do I do it? Can I really kill her? I sigh, I know I can’t. I hit her with the pistol once more, and start walking. Hopefully I’ll make it to the next town before she wakes up. From there, buy my way onto the first transport off-world and I’m free. I’ll never be a slave again.  I pull the hood up on the stolen coat and set myself to walking. It’s a long way to the next town. It’s dark by the time I get there, but the Transports run constantly. First one’s to Caldari space. Not somewhere I particularly want to go to, but it’s better than here. I pay my way, get on and settle in. I’ve got a long journey ahead of me, and a lot to think about.

I wake up and glance at the clock. Damn, I only got about 30 minutes. Well, I guess it’s time to get moving again. I stand and walk to the ship hangar attached to my quarters.  I could probably fit a mission or two in before anything interesting starts happening. I step into my capsule and plug in. Just another day in the office – right?  I smile widely as I feel the pod become part of me…or I part of it. Not really sure which would apply.  I decide on my Rifter today, I haven’t taken it out in a while. I speak with my agent quickly as I’m preparing the ship. Hmmm, Angel Cartel again? Do they never get tired of being pulverized? Ah well, simple enough to handle.  I undock and warp to the mission beacon, and decide on some music for my missioning today.  I see the pirates as I drop out of warp, and lock them up. I approach the first one, deciding on the one on the left. I cycle my guns once and alpha-strike him. These Angels really need better defenses. I quickly change trajectory and engage the second pirate. Those two dispatched, I get ready to take on the next group. Same thing with them, they barely even put up a fight. Time to head back home; that was quicker than expected.  I dock up, and tell my agent that I’ve completed his task. I step out of my pod, leaving it inside the Rifter – I’ll be back for it later. I do believe, however, it’s time for a snack. As I walk down the hallway towards a restaurant on-station, I notice a young couple hidden away in an alcove. Huh, love. I don’t think I’ll ever deal with the mushy emotional crap again.

                I notice the young Matari watching me. I sigh to myself, waiting for him to come over and mock me. This is the first Matari I’ve seen since I left Amarr, and I’ve been dreading it. I was always told that I was denied my tattoos as a way to keep me enslaved; because no Matari would ever accept me without them. He approaches me, and sits at my table. I keep my eyes pointed towards my drink, hoping that he’ll get the hint that I know I’m shamed. He greets me pleasantly enough, and I politely respond. He asks me if I used to be a slave. I look up before I can stop myself and blink. He points at my wrists. Curses! My sleeves are rolled up. I pull them down quickly to hide the scars, but he reaches across and stops me. “Why hide your courage?” My jaw drops. What is he talking about? I guess he must have realized that the blank stare of confusion I was giving him meant I had no blinking clue what he was talking about. He smiled at me and explained that being denied my birthright like I had been was seen by some as a mark of courage, rather than one of shame. He spoke like I should be proud of my past, and prouder still that I’ve escaped it. I couldn’t believe the things he was saying…they’re too good to be true. Maybe one day my own will actually accept me, blank and all. 

My Story (Part 3)

I take the pistol with me as I walk into my bedroom. There had to be someone here, in my quarters. Who would know I had that? Better yet – who would know where to find it? Stupid of me to keep the pistol all these years, but I’m nothing if not sentimental. I mean, this little thing has saved my life a few times. I hear the door close and grin to myself. Someone was here. I go to the cupboard I usually keep the pistol in to return it to its place. I haven’t always had the strength I now do. Capsuleer training helped with that. I fought so hard to be here, to be able to become one of the select few that get to roam the skies completely free, I almost lost sight of it. It was difficult to get into the training, much less even get tested to see if I was capable.

                I could taste the alcohol on my lips as I licked them. I know I should be sober, but doing this – I needed a drink before I could let him touch me. He looked me up and down like I was a piece of meat, and I’m sure to him that’s all I was. I smiled my best coy smile, trying to get more money out of him. What I was trading was valuable, and I was so close to having enough to pay for my ident papers and passage to Matar. I told him he was a few million short of us having a deal, and he got angry. Luckily, the bartender was getting a cut of this, and stepped in to protect me. I guess tonight wasn’t the night. I turned back to the bar and grabbed another drink. I was getting ready to head back to Matar and volunteer to be tested to become a podder; but I needed to wash away the last little bit of my former life. A man sat next to me, and flagged the bartender. He ordered a drink, and another of what I was drinking. I looked up at him, and saw the most brilliant violet eyes I’d ever seen. He was Caldari, of course, and as he turned away to look at the DJ I saw the port on the back of his neck. Capsuleer – perfect, they’re loaded. I flagged the bartender down to speak to him about this, even among civilized circles, a Caldari bartender will get farther than a Matari slave would in terms of financial transactions. I pounded my drink back and hit the dance floor, making sure I was in view of the podder at the bar. He’s the one, my ticket out of here. The bartender looked at me and nodded once, holding up his fingers to indicate the amount. Perfect, enough to cover the papers and a little extra to get some shopping done. I went back to the bar and followed the man up to his room. I looked at him nervously, as much as I knew I needed to do this, I couldn’t help being afraid. Who knew someone would pay that much for my virginity?

I dress in the clothes I laid out earlier and glance at my appearance in the full-length mirror, purposely avoiding looking at my face.  I pulled the sleeves of my shirt down making sure they covered my wrists.  I left my quarters to head to the bar in the station. All of this business of remembering has caused me to desperately want a drink.  I nod to the bartender, he already knows what I want.  Deep breath in, deep breath out; I can do this. I can pretend like I’m every other podder in this place.  I paste the fake smile I spent so many months perfecting on my face and greet the people around me.  I see the looks that I get from man and woman alike, and grimace inwardly. I was by no means a saint, or virtuous, but I never was capable of just picking someone up in a bar to bring home. Perhaps I’m a hopeless romantic, but I want it to mean something.

                I could feel my heartbeat running through my entire body. I never should have told her, she must think I’m delusional. There’s no way she thinks of me that way, she’s my owner! I’m nothing but another piece of property to her. I can’t help it though, I know how I feel. She stands and walks close to me, raising her hand and cupping my cheek. Somehow, I’ve forgotten how to breathe with her this close to me. She leans forward and kisses me softly. I blink and shake my head. How….why? She tells me she has feelings for me too, but she was trying so hard to keep them to herself. She smiles and tells me to come to her bedroom later, after everyone else goes to bed. I can hardly contain my excitement for the rest of the day. I can’t believe how lucky I am. Someone as incredible as her wants me. I pace back and forth in front of my door, counting the minutes until I can go to her; finally, it’s time. I leave my room and rush towards hers. I knock once on the door, softly, and she calls me in. I smile, and walk up to her, looking her in the eyes. Then she speaks the words that I’ll never forget as long as I live. “I’m leaving for the Navy in two days’ time Mikaela. This can’t happen; I never should have kissed you. I’m sorry.”  Stunned, I back away from her. I should have known she’d never tell me the truth. Bastards lie to you at every turn. I turn and leave, ignoring her calls from behind me. There’s no way I would stay here without her. Time to start planning my escape.

My Story (Part 2)

A tear runs down my cheek for love lost. I keep tabs on her as best I can, but it doesn’t change that even amongst us eggers, it can never be.  I marvel at the warmth in the tub, I can vividly remember the cold baths of my youth. There are so many things in this life that I regret not being able to change, and there are so many other things that I never would.  I relish in the freedom I now have, but what has it cost me?  I push the thought out of my head. The priests are all the same, unless you’re one of them, you’re lower than dirt. For a moment, my anger fills the void...but the hollow feeling quickly comes back. It is always difficult when you don’t belong anywhere.

                I count on my fingers. I’m 21 today. I pull the sleeves of my top down…it wouldn’t do for the people on the station I’m in to see the slave-scars. It’s odd enough to see a Matari with no markings, adding slave-scars would open too many questions. One big breath and I stand and walk to the bar to order a drink. May as well partake if it’s my birthday, right? The Matari bartender looks at me with disgust. I order my drink, and watch him closely to make sure he doesn’t spit in it – or worse. I accept the drink with a nod, and look him dead in the eye. Son of a bitch, he looked ready to kill me for it, but he turned away first. This will be my life from now. People thinking I’m dishonored, a criminal, and all it comes down to is my slavery. Some cruel twist of the fates determined that I would never have what normal Matari do. I’ll never be able to proudly wear the name markings, or the tribal markings, or any other tattoo; although it’s not as if I’m worthy of any. A capsuleer walks in, and I check to make sure it isn’t her. I wonder…might that be the way out of this? A way to redeem myself?

My fingers are starting to get wrinkled – perhaps it’s time to get out of the tub. I stand and reach for the towel that was next to me, and come up empty. Hmm. I must have moved it or knocked it earlier. I step out of the tub and reach for another that’s on a shelf across the room. I hear a clink of metal on tile, and spin around. The pistol that’s sitting on my vanity wasn’t there when I got in the tub…but it looks strangely familiar.  I grab the towel and wrap up, never taking my eyes off the pistol. I walk over to it, pick it up, and look for the monogram on the bottom of the grip. ZA…it’s hers. What is it doing here? I remember the first time I saw that pistol…and what I did with it.

                I turned to look at my mistress. She was kitted up in her Navy uniform, and so proud of herself. I’d just finished packing; she left in the morning. I fingered the grip of the pistol I’d stolen from her. If that bitch thinks she can just reject me and have me smiling and saying yes mistress, she can kiss my Matari ass. I had other ideas. I may only be 15, but even I know that is unfair. That’s how they work though, they’ll be nice and sweet and roses to you one moment, and then beat you black and blue the next. I can’t wait until I’m out of this place. My mistress had a lot of misplaced trust in me. No slave collar, no shackles, nothing but a pair of gold bracelets to indicate my status; as if it wasn’t obvious from my dress and physique I wasn’t one of the Amarrian scum. I followed her into the entryway of her home, smiling to myself. She’s in for a rude awakening. I approached her slowly, wrapping my hand around the pistol and pulling it from my pocket.

My story (Part 1)

I pull my head from under the water, and sit up straight in the tub.  I glance in front of me, and instantly regret it, seeing myself in the mirror. I raise my hand up to my face, and once again lament the circumstances that led me to where I am now.

                I look up at the blank face of the man who was carrying me; he looks so strange. I had never seen anyone without a name mark before. I smelled something bitter, like lemons, but not the same, and what little of the sky I could see glows red. The blank man spoke words that made no sense to me, something I’d never heard before. He handed me off to someone else, another blank man, but this one looked kinder, more like my Da. He smiled down at me, and carried me into a med-bay. The needle entered my vein with a pinch, and everything went black.

Grimacing, I turned away from the mirror. I still never understand why they put these in my quarters; I thought I’d sent word ahead to have none of them present. Too late, I suppose. It isn’t the fault of the dog that the master told him wrong. I lie back in the tub, and close my eyes, preparing for another wave of memories. Baths tend to do that to me.

                The chains bite into my wrists and ankles; I’ve never gotten used to the chafing, don’t think I ever will either. I am pulled down the hallway by the Amarrian who owns me, and once more I wonder what I did to deserve this hell. I wonder if anyone remembers what today is. It’s my birthday, and my Mum told me before I was stolen that today, the day I turned 11, would be the day that I had my Voluval. Here I am without even a name mark. Eleven years old and no name mark. I’m ashamed to call myself Matari. I look down at the plush red carpet I’m walking on; evidently these priests are well to-do. I guess I’d best get used to these chains, I highly doubt that I’ll be out of them anytime soon. My slaver pulls me into an office where I’m told to kneel. I grimace, but I do as I’m told – the slavers cane hurts worse on my back than kneeling does on my pride. I tune out their conversation, and then click back into reality when my chains are handed to someone else. I don’t dare to look up, but the hand pulling me this time is much gentler than the one I am used to. I don’t dare get my hopes up…do I?

Glancing down at my wrists I see the chain scars, and the marks from the nails the slaver put into his chains. I rub my right wrist, it’s never stopped aching after it got broken; not even the podder tech can get rid of that. One of my rare smiles appears as I trace one of the smaller crescent shaped scars on my hand. I remember who gave me that one…and it was worth every drop of blood.

                I look up at her…god she’s beautiful. I hate myself for thinking that, I shouldn’t be feeling these things. She owns me, it’s not like we could ever…well, anything. The way the sunlight hits her skin though; I can’t help myself.  It’s like their God has come down and been personified in her. I can’t think this – this is evil. I turn away and go back to my task for a moment before it’s like gravity pulling me back. I can’t stop looking at her, she’s pure magnetism. What am I going to do! I can’t hide this much longer. I can’t take this…I need to tell her. I walk up to her, and get ready to spill my soul.