Fly Me to the Moon

I have missed space. Too long have I spent on that blasted planet, negotiating my way through redtape and the simple ill will of the Matari people I was attempting to purchase services from. Next time, I will simply hire a stand-in to take care of such things: I do not belong in an office.

And I have missed my corpmates, more than I had thought I would. I'd forgotten, or never really known, how much they did for me, keeping me connected, keeping me whole. It's a startling realization to learn how easy it is to sink into the oceanic depths of isolation and loneliness without people to connect to. They keep me afloat.

And then there is Zegerth. I know Cia finds her somewhat... eccentric, but I find her quite pleasant company. Before this entire becursed business endeavor, she dragged me out to a bar, the Last Gate, for drinks and conversation. I must admit, I have never truly cared for bars before, but I can see the appeal now. To be alone with someone, yet still in public, to have a conversation openly, but able to withhold its contents from others... yes, I can see the appeal, now. For the first time in a long while, I felt free. I have spent a long time watching the waves in their relentless, uncaring procession. It is nice to have someone around to point out that the stars, also, can be seen.

Still, my mind drifts restlessly. I miss my people; I miss the feeling of knowing my place in the world. I know, with a certainty I thought reserved only for prophets and saints, what I need to make happen. Where I should go, what I should do to make my dream become a reality, though, are questions that, like a net, hinder and bind me. I cannot remain in the Republic indefinitely, that much is certain. Their ways are too alien and strange for me, their bitterness too palpable.

The question remains, though: If not here, then where?

Corporate VidReport

Lycana appears seated in front of a gently bobbing camera drone, files and charts spread across her desk. Several charts float in the air, holographic display technology at its finest. She looks up at the camera, seeming almost annoyed.

"Hello Captain Vikarion, everyone. I hope this message sees you in good spirits and health. I'd hoped to get this done in a minimal amount of time; blood and martyrs, these Minmatar seem to welcome an opportunity to vex me. Already, I've spent days longer than I'd intended and it looks like it will take a day or three more before I'm done. Until I see you again, fly safe and be well. I look forward to rejoining you in space at the earliest opportunity. Lycana out."

Death and Life: Part Two

I need to update more regularly. If Vikarion and I continue to get podded on a regular basis, I could lose things. Things I don't want to lose, can't afford to lose.

Like what happened a few nights ago, at Ciarente's celebration. It was a good party, at first. I enjoyed seeing people in person that I've only ever talked to through communication channels, seeing everyone dressed up and getting the opportunity to relax a little. That was my mistake, of course. I got distracted, talking to Zegerth (she does, admittedly, have some fascinating implants) and Cia nearly died. Someone, we don't know who, poisoned her drink. And I was sitting not three seats away, chatting idly while someone attempted to murder my friend.

I was trained to defend people at events like these. Yes, I was intended primarily for show, but my mentor always said 'you don't have to live down to expectations.' If I had been paying attention, maybe I would have noticed a drink being switched, or something being put in it. If I'd been doing my job, instead of becoming moon-eyed over some...

That is why I'm teaching Cia to defend herself. I can't correct the mistakes in my past, but I can atone for them. I can help make my friends safe, so I will. Cia is a good student, obedient and willing to work hard. She really could become a decent fighter. It is sad, in a way. So much about her is innocent and it brings sorrow to my heart to take that innocence away from her.

But what choice do we have?

Death and Life: Part One

I have had the most interesting last couple of days. I feel the need to document them for my future selves, against the possibility that they wake up without remembering. I will start with the first set of events logged here, then move on to the second.

For two days, Captain Vikarion and I have been harassing CVA interests in Providence. I doubt we did any substantial damage, but we did succeed in making a statement and saving several of our sister vessels. It is an exhilarating experience, to bear down on another capsuleer fitted for combat, releasing drones while praying your tank will hold... most exhilarating, indeed. We ultimately lost our lives both times, our lives and the lives of our crews. I feel no guilt; my crew knew what they signed on for quite explicitly, but chose to stay on. Had they not been willing to risk death in the name of a cause, I would not employ them.

I was podkilled twice. It is an odd sensation, to watch with distant eyes as the capsule holding your body breaches, the view fuzzing with static before suddenly waking up in a vat someplace else. It bothers some people; they struggle with the questions such events cause them to ask. For me, no. I am here, now. I am alive and I have the memories I have. I am a person now, she was a person then. We are both Lycana, I think. It is the nature of time to express seperation, to isolate 'then' and 'now'. I am this person now, regardless of the past.

And I am at peace with that.

True Faith

I was wrong, wrong about so many things. The Empire is a lie; a place of ideas and actions gone sour and overwhelmingly wrong. It does not keep its word nor maintain its purpose. Whatever it was, it is no longer. My home, my Empire, has become some other, has lost its past to some future seeming. I cannot in good conscience continue to advance its cause. Therefore, I will not.

Nor will I abandon everything, as so many fools, when disillusioned, do. I will keep what is good and throw out the rest. I certainly won't be siding with the barbarous Republic. No, I would instead follow my Dream and my friends. I will see a world made where pacts are binding, where oaths and actions matter, where one can live upright, or be punished for lacking the faculty to do so.

The Empire is rotting, but the Nation is ready to be reborn. I will not succumb to the sickness of my home, not when I can rise instead, as if on flaming pinions. Even should the effort scour me to my very bones, I will build a world without sin. We will have Utopia, no matter how many must burn for it. No matter what, we will have Utopia.

The world demands nothing less.

Like Nothing Human

I finished moving to Minmatar space several days ago. I have done a small amount of freelance work since I have arrived and all my worldly possessions have been moved and unpacked. I am no longer a resident of the Empire I spent my entire life working for, living in and being surrounded by.

I do not like my new home. The station smells wrong, its lighting is too red and too low and everything is covered in rust. The people, they look at me when I walk by. They must be able to see it in my face and in the way I hold myself that I am Khanid, that I am a warrior, a woman of enhanced abilities. They look at me like I'm a predator in the midst of their herd. They look at me like I'm nothing human.

It must be my eyes. I am so unbalanced by these surroundings, the looks I get, the movement of the crowd around me that I forget. I forget that my eyes have been... upgraded, replaced with equipment more suiting my station. You see, my eyes can shine, they can glow with golden light. My mother and father thought it would be a good party trick, a way to highlight my title and capabilities visibly. I can control it, of course, but like a scowl or a glare, it surfaces on its own when I am frustrated or angry.

They must think I'm a monster. Like some strange beast washed ashore, I remind them of a place both alien and hostile, a place terrible and majestic and utterly without mercy. And like that strange beast, they must know that I am out of my element, fearsome but no longer indomitable. They look at me and I can feel it. I can feel my fear.

Slaves in the Garden

Several days ago, Captain Vikarion demonstrated some interesting reasoning in a discussion with Ciarente. I held my tongue during the conversation, as I find it best to think for a time before proclaiming my stance on this or that issue. Unprepared, I remained silent and mulled over his words and hers as well.

These, then, are my thoughts. Before I can discuss whether or not it is right to alter with implants a person's ability to make certain choices, I must determine whether or not people always have the right to act on the choices they make.

I say they do not. We all have the right to feel a certain way, to believe certain things, but we do not have the right to follow our beliefs in any way we may wish. We may certainly have the power, but strength alone is not virtue. We have a right to upright action, a right to be good. We may use our power of choice, of thought and action, to be evil, to uphold false action, but that is not our right. It is simply an option and not one equal to its alternative.

Indeed, the power of law has traditionally rested on the ability to constrain ones actions if the actions in question are evil. It is why there are prisons, executions and slavery. Through the power of law, we can remove entire fields of action from the realm of choice. All nations do this; they must to survive.

I conclude, then, that the right to act on ones choices is not always present. It is conditional and other actors have the right to limit the actions one may undertake. The next question is whether or not an implant that constrains behavior is an immoral method of doing so compared to the other methods that may be chosen.

I say it is not. Compared to execution, it is a great improvement. It offers freedom for people who would otherwise be imprisoned and eases concerns about the safety of those around them. In effectiveness it is supreme, as there is no method by which the person may regress. His mind can shift, of course, can retain to evil thoughts and desires, but he could not act on them.

My conclusion seems inevitable: there is nothing morally wrong with using an implant to limit a person's ability to act, so long as the behavior thus barred is an evil one. The person still retains the ability to formulate intention, which leaves them free as a moral actor. They are free to be good or evil as they will. They are not free to let their bad decisions bring wrack and ruin upon the people around them, which is as it should be.

If, however, you were to ask me, as Captain Vikarion seemed to, if a chip should be used to disallow a person from forming certain thoughts, my answer would be different. I would say no, it is always evil to do so. To take from the soul it's ability of moral agency, it's ability to form desires and choose among them, is the greatest of all evils. How can a man be a good one if he cannot resist temptation within his heart? Such a thing is abomination, a return to the Garden the poet Shariruent spoke of, where we lived as beasts until the great-heart souls rebelled and took up their human nature.

No, I say, we must remain as men in this world, human beings and not beasts of flesh and silicon. I will not be a slave in some Garden of hollow eyes and empty hearts. But perhaps Captain Vikarion, who has always been good to me and those around us, mispoke. Perhaps he conflated act and thought too closely for the sake of expedience. Perhaps.