Vrain Matari
Mikramurka Shock Troop
Minmatar Republic
3172
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Posted - 2016.04.21 04:27:00 -
[1] - Quote
Minmatar ranger comes in from the hills, knocks the dust off the armor, strips off and gets cleaned up for the event.
'Been a long time since i've worn civvies', he muses, feeling defenseless, naked. The thought of heading out into public is damn near terrifying, but the real terror lies in wondering what will become of the clone program, wondering if immortality was just a dream, four years of brutal combat that unexpectedly transcended the gore and savagery to became somehow sublime.....ineffably, inexplicably, grace and death had walked hand-in-hand on the terrestrial battlefields of New Eden....
The merc shakes his head, trying to clear the fugue state that has washed over him, threatening to pull him out to dark waters. The habits of the battlefield won't let go, however, and he never stops moving, one foot in front of the other, collecting the few things he needs and heading for the door. On the way out he passes his gear, eyes straying to the nova knife, gait slowing....
This was it. There was no way of knowing how this kittening thing was going to go. Everything in his soldier's gut said a clusterfuck was coming. There might not be any returning to this room or his gear - what the empires were going to do with thousands of clone soldiers was an open(and ugly) question.
It would be impossible to hide a dropsuit, too many systems, too much integration, the power source alone....but something smaller, perhaps. The Exile AR. It had put down, at one time or another, everything that had come at him. And it had been issued to vets after leaving Jove space, an unreasonably beautiful weapon crafted by none other than Karisim Vynneve himself. But there was more to Vynneve's art: The Exile AR BPO was the only BPO that that would allow assembly without Ident circuitry. It was as its name implied, a true exile, a high tech weapon that cast no shadow in cyberspace.
He was Siebestor. He had a proto cloak, he had a proto reactor and he probably had enough time....
A few hours later and it was done: a kluge to be sure, but a kludge with a virtually infinite power source, given the low demands of cloaking such a small mass. His merc quarters weren't safe, of course, but in the ghettoized outer deck of the station where mercs were quartered there were plenty of options. He chose a minor conduit that fed a deck maintenance bay, stashing the bundle where a maintenance tech or bot would never go.
Perhaps a foolish gesture, but he knew beyond a doubt that he wasn't the only merc taking precautions, making plans.
Time left for a drink at the shuttle bay bar and a last convo with Lavo, his Gallentean bartender, counselor and 'investment' advisor before catching the shuttle.
I was gonna be a helluva day, on way or another.
PSN: RationalSpark
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