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Indahmawar Fazmarai
#2881 - 2014-12-08 10:07:33 UTC  |  Edited by: Indahmawar Fazmarai
Falling Star, Part Two: The Hall

She opened her eyes, but couldn't see anything; all was black around her. Focusing her eyes, she started seeing a faint glow, and slowly it shaped into an indirect light overhead. Overhead... where? Ishtanchuk Fazmarai struggled to remember. She was... she was in a corridor, in a station, and someone was shooting at her. Then she had done something... and then she was suffocating. She could see her own blood under her and there was pain in her chest. Now she tried to stand on her arms and raise her head, but they were weak and heavy, and she fell back on the bed. What was that place? There was a tube inside her mouth and it discommoded her throat... was she intubated?

Maybe she was in a hospital. But that made no sense. She was a capsuleer, and whatever happened to her, they should transfer her to a new clone. She couldn't talk with the tube in her mouth, and moved her arm to try and pull it; then she noticed how she had a PVC on her hand too...

She moved her head, looking around, and noticed something hard stuck to the left side of her mouth, which felt stiff. Then she recalled; she had been shot in the mouth too. Why didn't they transfer her to a clone? What where they waiting in that stupid hospital? She was angry and her heart rushed, and then someone by her spoke, but was too fast -Ishtanchuk couldn't concentrate on the words before the person stopped talking and didn't got anything. Then she tried to move her head again, but something happened, and darkness fell on her...


In a room, there were two persons. One was a man wearing a white coat, and the other a woman in a CONCORD uniform. The woman spoke:
"So, she woke up tonight?"
"Yes, as we expected once we removed the sedation"
"Nice, then. I will send one of my men to make her the standard interrogation. Just tell me when she'll be ready"
"Ready? Well, I expect to talk to her later. Probably she'll be active enough to take your standard interrogation but don't tire her. If she needs to stop, stop immediately"
"Yes, yes, don't worry about that. Once my man is done I'll interrogate her myself. When you think she's ready, of course"

The doctor looked at the CONCORD officer. She was a stern Caldari woman, with cropped blonde hair and colorless eyes. Not very sympathetic, as she had been pestering the doctor and his team without any interest on the health of the capsuleer woman, just waiting to interrogate her.

"Of course, officer White", repeated the doctor. "I'll tell you when you can send your man and start doing whatever is your job"

The CONCORD woman nodded and exited the room. Then the doctor grabbed his pad and started working on it.


She opened her eyes, and could see the light. White light, and overhead, a pink glow... an indirect, soothing pink light. Hadn't she wake before? Ishtanchuk Fazmarai struggled to remember. The shooting. The agony... and the slow, suffocating death. And now... that wasn't a clone vat. But then, if that was a hospital, then she had made it. She was alive. And her attacker was dead. Her mouth was dry and her throat was sore...she tried to move and her body and arms felt very heavy. She was weak, but that didn't mattered much... as soon as someone came, she would ask for being taken to the cloning vats. If the hospital was abusing her medical insurance, that was not her business...

Ishtanchuk heard soft footsteps to her right, and twisted her head to see who was coming. A nurse. She was probably Gallente, with a round, smiling face, and then the nurse talked:

"Good morning, Mistress Fazmarai! So you are awake! Please let me check you up..."

Ishtanchuk tried to talk but her throat was sore, and her tongue also felt heavy. It was as if every muscle in her body had gone on vacation, and they answered weakly and slowly.

"Oh, you won't be able to talk yet, Mrs Fazmarai. But don't worry, we have a voicebox. The one we had broke two days ago and the replacement just arrived today.... we'll install it later so you can speak to doctor Masure."

The nurse worked around Ishtanchuk, silently, without explaining anything of the procedures she was performing. At one point, the nurse gently pushed Ishtanchuk's shoulder as to check something on her back, and Ish noticed something softly pulling her capsuleer plugs... was she wired to the bed? Why?

As the nurse finished, a second nurse entered the room with something in her hands. She quickly worked above Ishtanchuk's head, out of her sight, and said to the Gallentean nurse:

"I hope this one works, the doctor will want to talk to her directly. Have you finished the checks?"
"Yes, I'm done. May you help me with the toilet?"
"Yes... let me check... Mrs Ishtanchuk, do you need to go to toilet? We can bring a bedpan and clean you before the doctor comes"

Mildly irritated, Ishtanchuk noticed how her bladder needed relief. She nodded and tried to stand up to go to the toilet, as she would not use a bedpan, not at all, if she...

"See, we can't take you to the toilet. We'll bring a bedpan, it's what we've been doing all these days", said the Gallentean nurse.

All those days?, wondered Ishtanchuk. How many days had she been in that bed? Annoyed and concerned, she waited for the nurses to help her with her toilet needs, and promised to bear that in mind once she sued the hospital for not taking her to a clone vat as soon as possible, rather keep her in a bed, with that crippled clone.

After finishing, the nurses left the room and Ishtanchuk waited patiently; some ten minutes later, she heard more footsteps, but not from the soft shoes of nurses. Then she saw a Ni-Kunni man with a white coat.

(continues)
Indahmawar Fazmarai
#2882 - 2014-12-08 10:08:23 UTC
(continued)

"I am doctor Masure. Please, let me turn on the voicebox so we can speak"

The doctor manipulated the device installed by the nurse, and then he said:

"Please, think about talking... the probe loop on your slot 5 should catch the signal and the voicebox will translate it into words"

"Test, test, this is a test", thought Ishtanchuk, and a incorporeal voice repeated the words almost instantly.
"Do you like the volume?", asked the doctor.
"It's a bit too loud", said the voice. Ishtanchuk felt weird with that voice speaking her thoughts, but apparently it only played what she wanted to say. At least, she thought, that explained why she was wired to the bed.
"Now that we can speak, doctor, I want you to take me to the cloning vats immediately. I don't know what you've been doing here with me nor how long has lasted, but I assure you that I am very displeased with being here"

The voice sounded awfully neutral and didn't conveyed Ishtanchuk's anger, so she insisted:

"Did you listen? Take me out of here. I am very angry even if this voicebox can't replicate my emotions"
"Mistress Fazmarai, I am fully aware that you are surprised to be here rather than on a new clone. You were severely injured and we have been doing our best to..."
"I don't care! Take me to the cloning vats immediately", said the voice as if asking the time. Ishtanchuk struggled with her throat and groaned, but couldn't articulate any word.

"Please, Mrs. Fazmarai, don't excite. I need to explain you what's going on."
"That would be appreciated", said Ishtanchuk, all sarcasm gone from the voicebox.

"Mistress Fazmarai, when the rescue team found you, you had been shot several times, and you were in a very bad condition. They did their best to stabilize you and brought you aboard a hospital ship. The ship carried you here. Then, our surgical teams worked on you as some of your injuries were very severe."
"That's what I recall", said Ishtanchuk. "They hit my mouth and my chest... that hurt horribly. And then I suffocated..."
"You were shot seven times, Mrs. Fazmarai. Four of the bullets missed your organs and just caused skin bruise and minor trauma. One of the bullets pierced your lower abdomen without hitting any organ. Another one hit your jaw, breaking it and destroying several teeth. That shot also cut a piece of your tongue and exited your mouth between the open teeth on the opposite side, merely bruising one tooth. Yet the second solid hit to your body was what we call a "wonder bullet", and it made a horrible lot of damage."
"So I am here because of a single bullet? After taking seven shots?" -Ishtanchuk shivered, feeling that those would be bad news.
"Yes. That bullet entered your back, hitting a rib and breaking it. The rib made the bullet bounce and it pierced both the lower and upper lobes of your right lung, causing a severe pneumothorax. Then it struck a rib on the front of your chest, and the bullet shattered. Pieces of the bullet and bone splinters ricocheted through the pectoral muscle and entered your right breast, exiting it through multiple exit wounds and causing loss of tissue."
"So that was the pain I felt", said Ishtanchuk, suddenly concerned. She had noticed a bandaging on her chest, but so far she thought that it was because of the hit that pierced through her chest; she hadn't thought that it could affect her bosom.

"The pneumothorax, along with the bleeding from the mouth, which blocked your air ways, caused suffocation and hypoxia. When our team reached you, they practiced a tracheotomy and used enriched nanite drivers to bring oxygen to your brain directly through the carotid arteries, as your heart still was holding enough pulse. But nonetheless, you suffered hypoxia and that caused brain damage".
"Brain damage?"

Ishtanchuk wished that the voice box could convey emotions. Now she was scared.

"Mistress Fazmarai, the reason why we haven't been able to transfer you to a clone was the damage suffered by your brain. We... I... still don't know exactly the details. My guess is that, as yours is an old clone, the natural binding of your brain to your implants is particularly strong, and when your brain suffered the death of some braincells, it just used your implants as a backup. All our analysis point at how your implants have been consuming 100% of their nominal power since you arrived. Whatever they are doing, very likely they are supporting your brain functions in ways I still haven't been able to check."
"So my brain is being held together by my implants?"
"To say so. Mrs Fazmarai, I am the only specialist in this cases in the whole galaxy. Capsuleers who suffer brain damage and live are extremely rare -they usually are transferred to a new clone by the pod, or they die from their wounds. You are my first living case of study."
"And so you have kept me from using the cloning vat?"
"No, that's not related to my study. Mrs Fazmarai, as far as I can tell, if we tried to plug you to a vat, or to a pod, your brain would lose whatever backup is getting from your implants... and that could be fatal to you."
"You mean that... you can't take me away from this clone?", whispered Ishtanchuk, but the voicebox just replayed her words with the same volume as the rest.
"Regretfully not, Mrs Fazmarai. Not until I can study better your brain, now that you're conscious, and determinate to which extent your implants are keeping your brain functions."
"And that's all the bad news? As I am to stay with this body, right? How healthy is it?"
"You've been unconscious for 17 days and your body has been healing all the time. Your mouth is healing well."

(continues)
Indahmawar Fazmarai
#2883 - 2014-12-08 10:10:20 UTC
(continued)

"You said that a bullet pierced my right breast... was that serious?"
"A team performed surgery to clean all the bone and metal splinters and consolidate the wounds, but that was not a top priority. Mammary tissue heals very well and so we've been letting it do on its own, watching for infection, but all in all reconstructive surgery might have to be performed later"
"But is it still there??", asked Ishtanchuk.
"Yes, there was no need of a mastectomy. Along with the missing teeth and the bit of tongue, all that can be addressed later. The real damage is within your head, Mistress Fazmarai"
"And I can't plug to a pod..."
"Not."
"So I am not a capsuleer any more?", asked Ishtanchuk, too stunned to hold the words and think them twice.
"It still is soon to say. I don't know enough. But Mistress Fazmarai, you are terribly lucky. Maybe if your clone was younger, no amount of implants would had kept your brain working. It is so rare... but I will do my best to know what is going on in your brain. There's obvious military interest in capsuleers who suffer brain damage and can't be transferred to another clone. Thus this facility..."
"This facility? You mean, this is not a hospital?"
"No, Mistress Fazmarai. This is a CONCORD facility. Now... are you tired?"
"Tired? Well, according to you I am lucky to as much as being alive and in one piece... but yes, I think I need time. And please, find a way to let me speak on my own...this voicebox is horrible"
"OK, Mistress Fazmarai. I might tell you too... there is a CONCORD officer who wants to talk to you, as they are investigating the shooting. You can call a nurse with that button by the bed when you're ready to talk to an officer for some standard questioning.
"Yes, yes... they will be interested to investigate this case... but now... leave me alone"
"Will see you later, Mistress Fazmarai."
"See you later, doctor... Masure?"
"Yes, That's my name"

The doctor left the room and Ishtanchuk waited for the door to shut behind him. Then she sunk her head into the pillow as tears poured from her eyes, and suddenly she noticed something else. The familiar tickle from her hair... it was gone. Then she understood that her head had been shaved, God knew why. "No hair, no teeth, no breast... no capsules, no clones... what the hell is left of you, Ishtanchuk?", she articulated silently, groaning as sobbing shook her body with waves of sorrow...


Indahmawar Fazmarai blinked under the sunlight, wishing that the traditional attire included dark glasses, but that was not the case. She was wearing a fur jacket over leather riding trousers, and a thin metal plate covered her chest, tightly tied to her back and flattening her bosom. That was the traditional kunapadah dress for women, and also was traditional that the next three ladies waiting to shoot did so outside of the pergola that sheltered the other riders. Indahmawar's horse was not hers, rather it belonged to the stable organizing the meeting. Thus, the animal was used to inexpert riders, and probably was grateful that Indahmawar was such a small example of the Cyberknight bloodline. She was not just the lightest but also the shortest of the group; the two girls waiting before her measured well above 180 cm, and actually one of them was as much impressive as any kunapadah horseback archer from the books. Indahmawar's bow belonged to the family, as did the horse dressings and the richly decorated quiver hanging by Indahmawar's left knee. In sports kunapadah, each archer had three arrows, with which could score between 0 and 10 points by shooting at a moving target. The target was a real sized doll made of compressed hay and light wood, with red markings on vital organs. Centuries ago, riders would be riding their horses and fire on stationary targets, but the tradition had evolved and now the riders where static and the target was mounted in a crude wooden machinery that moved it in a irregular path as the doll rotated on its axis. For amateur shooters such as Indahmawar, the range for shooting was 30 meters, but the real difficult was aiming and predicting the motion of the target.

The girls before Indahmawar moved to the firing area, marked by a ring on the grass, and Indahmawar advanced to the waiting point. From there, she had a better view of the public, and looked for her family. That was easy as they could be seen under a flag waving the Fazmarai colors, black and green. The purpose of the meeting was a charity, and for some unknown reason Indahmawar's mother, lady Eugerelia, fancied to see her daughter playing kunapadah again. The fact that Indahmawar hadn't ride a horse in two years and she was a capsuleer was not even mentioned, as Eugerelia was very ill, and all the family humored her desires.

(continues)
Indahmawar Fazmarai
#2884 - 2014-12-08 10:11:10 UTC
(continued)

Indahmawar struggled with the sunlight to see her mother; she was wearing a large hat and under it a kerchief covered her hair. Indahmawar knew that the only purpose of the kerchief was to hide the scars from a recent treatment against a tumor in Eugerelia's left ear. That was the lesser of the family concerns as Eugerelia was suffering a rare genetic disease, endemic to people of Gallentean ascent, known as Gallentean Recurrent Genetic Destabilization 503 or RDG 503. The disease caused tumors on all kind of tissues, often malign, and the continued damage to organs caused by the disease and the treatments eventually killed the patients, often in no more than a year. It was unfortunate that Eugerelia suffered it, as she was halfbreed Gallentean, born from a mixed Khanid-Gallentean marriage. The news that Eugerelia suffered the disease had been a severe blow to Indahmawar, as the disease was known for its very high mortality and lack of long term cure. Yet, as Indahmawar buckled to the terrible news, Ishtanchuk had intervened. Ishtanchuk Fazmarai was Indahmawar's older cousin, and she suggested a way to save Eugerelia. Ordinary cloning therapy didn't worked as a therapy because the disease would carry from the body to any clone; but Ishtanchuk knew of a different, alternate way to create a clone. The usual procedure was to replace biomass with cloned cells of the donor; but also was feasible to grow rapidly a clone from a single egg cell, replaying the whole life of the body in a few months rather than years. That technique allowed to bypass any external factor that could had caused the disease and keep a tight control on the evolution of the final haplogenome. The only drawback was that such procedure was forbidden by the Empires as those "cultured" clones were deemed different persons than the grown up donors, and actually the only masters of the procedure belonged to Sansha's nation... but Ishtanchuk knew it, and thus she also had found a solution.

Indahmawar heard her name. It was her turn. The groom guided Indahmawar's horse to the shooting circle and held it there. Indahmawar was mildly annoyed as all the event was like a parody to her. In kunapadah as sport, riders would guide their own horses, and the traditional attire made sense as the metal plate was a way to flatten the chest of women so it didn't interfered with the bow. But why bother there, with amateur shooters who barely could taut the weapons...? Anyway, Indahmawar grabbed her bow, a true antique, and readied it as she had been practicing the week before. The target started moving crazily, twisting and swiftly changing its direction, and Indahmawar aimed and waited for the right time to shoot. Her capsuleer implants improved her motion tracking, and she waited until she felt that was the right time to release the arrow. It flew with a whooshing sound, and it would had scored a perfect hit if it hadn't been too high; the arrow flew over the target and landed some 40 meters away from Indah. She sighed and took the second arrow; Indah aimed a bit lower and this time the arrow hit the target with a sinister thud. Indahmawar could see it by a red marking pointing the backbone of the mannequin. Quickly, Indahmawar took her last arrow and fired it, scoring what she thought that was a better hit, somewhere near the liver.

"Lady Indahmawar Fazmarai: Zero points, seven points, five points; total twelve points", said the spokesman. Indahmawar waved to the public and then the groom led the horse out of the shooting circle. Indah warned him that she intended to ride back to the pergola... but not fast enough so that the groom couldn't run by the horse and hold it in case it wasn't grateful to have been provided with a lightweight rider. As she reached the other girls, Indahmawar wondered why Ishtanchuk hadn't said a word since she had been gone from her apartment, almost one month ago. It was not unusual that she went on mysterious travels and disappeared for a few days or a couple of weeks, but at least she could had bothered to go visit Indahmawar. If even, to see her beloved cousin being silly, firing arrows from a horse with the same body and mind that could fire artillery shells larger than a person from a space war machine which could crush the whole sports field under its massive hull...


Ishtanchuk Fazmarai walked slowly along the corridor, still insecure on her weak legs. She passed by the door behind which there was a small rehab room, where she would exercise each morning; also by the room where there was a couple of nurses whose only job was taking care of her; and by several closed doors, probably other bedrooms. But she was alone in the complex, or at least, in the small part of it that she could see; guarded doors blocked that stretch of corridor, no more than 100 meters long. She passed by the office acting as laboratory for Dr. Masure, and then she reached her destination. She wrapped tightly in her bed's blanket as the CONCORD agent escorting her opened the door. Inside there was agent White and Ishtanchuk exchanged a hostile gaze with her. As usual, the air conditioning was running high, and way too cold for Ishtanchuk. Agent White waited for Ishtanchuk to seat on the chair, and then she said:

(continues)
Indahmawar Fazmarai
#2885 - 2014-12-08 10:12:11 UTC
(continued)

"Well Mrs Fazmarai, we will start with another account of the events. First a simple one and then we will dive into the details, to find anything you may have missed form the previous accounts"
"As I said you yesterday, and the day before yesterday, and every of the last 15 days, I've already told everything on the assault. Maybe you should look for evidences and stop bothering me"
"Mrs Fazmarai, your assistance is key for your security. I've been tasked to protect you, but the material evidences didn't helped us to identify who attacked you or why. It would be foolish to think that your aggressor was a mad man, when he was assisted by someone unknown. And your attitude about denying that someone could have reasons to kill you is naive at best"
"But it's the truth. I haven't done anything that could justify such an assault. I am just an ordinary capsuleer doing ordinary stuff. And your insistence that I am special is just a poor excuse, in my opinion. You claim that I am at risk. I don't think so. I've been confined for over a month, and you have spent the last days bothering me with your interrogations. I have nothing to say that I haven't said yet."
"Maybe your forgot some detail", said officer White, ignoring Ish. "Let's start from the beginning. At which hour did you leave your hydrostatic capsule...?"

Ishtanchuk bit her lips. There they went again... day after day, the same routine. Question after question, trying to make her slip or say something damning. Of course, they both knew that Ishtanchuk's social slot implant had a interrogation subsystem, and it would block anything Ishtanchuk considered compromising... and certainly there was something Ishtanchuk was concealing from the CONCORD agent.

Thinking about the attack, she was quick to figure who could had ordered it and why. Helping Indahmawar's mother hadn't been easy. Ishtanchuk used the intelligence network of an ancient little cult to locate the right people, who were selling the clone services with technology provided by Sansha's Nation. The agents had been sheltering under the corrupt cliques surrounding Tibus Heth's rule of the Caldari, and the fall of the corrupt dictator had left them unprotected and exposed to law enforcement. They needed to move elsewhere and in that stage, Ishtanchuk contacted them... an agreement was made and Ishtanchuk had obtained the culturing of a new clone for Eugerelia, in exchange for large amounts of money which she, as a capsuleer, could earn with relative ease. That meant that the Sansha agents would step into territories of Gallentean crime syndicates, and at one point the agents had warned Ishtanchuk against possible retaliations.

Ishtanchuk had hired a security chief to protect her home, an apartments complex whose street level included a bar. What she didn't figured, nor her security chief, was that someone could attack her in a different, random station, while she was conducting totally unrelated business... That was what puzzled her. How could someone ready a hit so fast, when it was a last minute travel, and why it had to be in exactly that station...?

What was obvious was that Ishtanchuk couldn't share anything with CONCORD. If she said a word, the police forces would locate the Sansha agents and would stop the operation, thus destroying Eugerelia's new clone and spoiling everything achieved at a extremely high price. Even if Ishtanchuk and Indahmawar managed to evade legal retaliation, there wouldn't be material time to grow a second clone, even if someone took the place of the Sansha agents. Thus Ishtanchuk played the ignorant innocent, assaulted randomly, and that didn't convinced the agent interrogating her... but what else could she do?

"So you never had seen that man before", said agent White.
"No, I hadn't", muttered Ish. That could go on for hours, with the air conditioning freezing her face and hands and anything not covered by the blanket nor the hospital gown.
"Are you tired? We can stop for a break", suggested agent White. But Ish knew that he break meant staring at each other for maybe twenty minutes. She was only allowed to leave he room to use the small toilet in the back of the office.
"I can continue", said Ishtanchuk.
"Well. I shall insist that so far your account serve us nothing. Aside from the contradictions, you still haven't given us any clue on the identity of the instigators behind the attack. You are making it very difficult to identify the threat on your life, Mrs. Fazmarai, and that means that I can't let you go from here because I can't assess the appropriate protection measures. According to Dr. Masure probably you will have recovered in a couple of weeks more. Everybody would be relieved if we could just take you to a more comfortable safe and let you communicate with your acquaintances and family. Everything would be easier if you didn't insist to play ignorant with me, Mrs. Fazmarai", said agent White.
"But I don't know anything else than what I've said. I am a ordinary capsuleer doing ordinary capsuleer business. Maybe yous should be looking for terrorists rather than keep me here, freezing with that stupid air conditioning, and wasting my patience with endless questions"
"You don't like it. I don't like it. But it is in your hands to end this, Mrs. Fazmarai. Just give me a clue on who would want to see you dead and why..."

(continues)
Indahmawar Fazmarai
#2886 - 2014-12-08 10:13:07 UTC
(continued)

Ishtanchuk wrapped tighter in the blanket. Then she looked at agent White and said: "I hadn't seen that man before, I can describe him, and maybe will look like the other half hundred times I've described him..."

Agent White frowned and then her face relaxed into her usual inexpressive mask. Behind it, she felt how she started to hate that arrogant Khanid capsuleer, the noblewoman messing in something shady which her social implant kept hidden. Dr. Masure would not allow her to use some brain probing, arguing that the Fazmarai brain was in a delicate condition... and all four militias had enough interest in her healing and recovery as to cause trouble if agent White bypassed Dr. Masure. "You are a tough nut, but every nut cracks under the right pressure, you bloody capsuleer", she thought...


Two hours later, Ishtanchuk was back in her bedroom. She was bored, tired and cold, and couldn't come to terms with the idea of using the bed for a nap. Being at the hospital was terribly boring, and albeit she enjoyed her mobility and the ability to speak on her own, days were endless. Also, she had been worried since two days before, when the nurses removed the bandage on her chest. She had avoided to look down, whenever they uncovered her wounded breast. She didn't wanted to think of what was going on with it, albeit she also couldn't help to see that the shape of her chest was different on the right side than on the left.

Ishtanchuk walked around the bedroom, and then she made a decision. She entered the toilet with the intent to undress and look at her new body... what was left of the clone she had got more than four years ago, after her original body died in a combat when her pod was targeted and obliterated almost instantly.

Inside the toilet, Ishtanchuk looked at the mirror. Her face was different, but she was growing used to it: the scar on the jaw... the false dimple caused by the missing teeth.... The shaved head, now covered with a dark shade as her hair grew back. And a scar on her neck, where a bullet grazed her just two centimeters away from killing her.

Ishtanchuk untied the hospital gown and let it slip past her shoulders. As the cloth slipped down to her waist, Ishtanchuk looked at the reflection of her eyes, undecided to look down... the face in the mirror now looked like alien, as if she was looking at somebody else rather than herself. Then she remembered that feeling, time ago. Looking into a mirror, and it was not the person she used to see in the mirror. It was after the annual New Ladies Presentation before the Tash Murkon family, when she was 16... literally half a life away from her 32 years.

She allowed her mind to wander into the past, avoiding the present, delaying it... as she looked very good. Yes, she had that distinct impression when she met with all the other girls. Most of them were taller, many of them had fairer skin and also some had darker skin. The traditional dress gave them a certain uniformity, but every girl was free to do her hair as she pleased, within certain limits. Ishtanchuk's black hair was pulled back, gathered by a tiara; two curls hanged in front of her ears, paired with her earrings. She wore a little red in her lips and her hazel eyes were lined in black, discretely but enough to draw attention to them. Yet what made the whole difference was her dress. Every girl had to wear the same design, a flat white dress without garments, and a low V shaped neck which showed the bare shoulders. The v-shaped neckline was intended to display a talisman hanging from the silvery New Lady's necklace, and that talisman was to be hanged low enough to reach the base of the girl's breasts. But as the girls only had in common that they had reached 16 years since the last ceremony, the bold neckline exposed very different things among the girls, and Ishtanchuk soon convinced herself that her dress, filled with her abundant bosom, looked better than that of many girls whose dress was flat rather than round.

Provided the amount of girls from appropriate families that where invited to each ceremony, the Presentation was organized with a stern discipline. The New Ladies were to form up in rows, with 30 girls in each row, making a long column where the last lines formed up as the front one was presented and exited the main venue. Families gathered on the sides and on several halls by the main Hall where large screens displayed the event in closed circuit, and also the event was broadcast live to all the Kingdom.

As the rows advanced two steps and bowed to the Tash Murkon family members gathered in front of them, a spotlight would pick one of the girls to be invited to the Rulers Table (actually, a hall) for the dinner. That was a coveted honor, and as the rows were formed by randomly picking 30 names and then sorting the girls according to their height, each row erupted with speculations on who would be picked.

Row after row, the column moved forward, and the first row stepped twice to the front and bowed; and then they waited for the spotlight and a servant would run to the girl and remove her from the row. Ishtanchuk looked to her left and could see only three girls shorter than her; the bulk of the row was to her right. The row before advanced and bowed... a girl was picked... then it was the turn of Ishtanchuk's row.

(continues)
Indahmawar Fazmarai
#2887 - 2014-12-08 10:13:59 UTC
(continued)

On the TV, and other media, the names of the girls could be seen and checked, along with details of their families. How the pick up happened was not explained, as there was a mix of family influence and the whim of family members from the Tash Murkon house.

Ishtanchuk stepped forward, making her best to not break the line, and she bowed with perfect synchrony; and then she saw a white light in front of her and a servant rushing towards her, asking her: "Your hand, milady, please hurry, hurry!". Ishtanchuk would see the recording later, and how the talking heads didn't hesitate to name her: "And, the picked New Lady from the eighteenth row is Miss Ishtanchuk, from the Fazmarai family. She was 16 on February and belongs to the sixth generation of the house. She's the first Fazmarai to be picked in two generations. Oh, watch that lovely skin, very traditional even if the current trends favor a nice skin over a tan one..."

And Ishtanchuk's tan face was also blushed as she followed the servant to a different hall, where she met other girls who also had been picked. They quickly surrounded her and most greeted her with hugs and kisses; and when the next girls came, Ishtanchuk also greeted them that way. Everybody was very excited and only a few girls, from arrogant families, appeared to be disgusted by some of the faces around. Ishtanchuk knew that probably hers was one of those faces looked upon; but to hell with them! She had been picked! Neither her mother nor her grandmother, nor her aunts and cousins and grand cousins, had been picked, as the Fazmarai was a small family with little political power.

The picked New Ladies where invited to follow the servants to the Rulers Table; the hall was massive and there where two arrays of tables arranged as a double U, a smaller U in the center of the hall within a larger one by the walls of it. A series of old ladies gently picked the teen girls and guided them to their places at the tables; Ishtanchuk noticed how every New Lady was surrounded by five guests, one to her left, another to her right, and the three in front of them; and all oft hem would talk to her and make her feel very special, with an amazing good mood. Them all were apparent fascinated by having being provided the company of Ishtanchuk Fazmarai, nonetheless, and Ish was so overwhelmed by their attention that she barely noticed what she was eating or drinking. The event was magical, and she almost cried when the New Ladies where introduced. That meant that each group of five guests would stand up and call the name of the New Lady accompanying them, and then they would seat and applaud and the New Lady would stand up and the whole Hall would applaud her too... Ishtanchuk stiffened her lip to not cry, and barely could feel the chair when she seated back as the applause ended to allow the next New Lady be introduced.

She didn't notice when one of the waiters, or maybe one of the old ladies, left a small cardboard seal in front of her. But her neighbors noticed, and they immediately shouted:
"Oh look, you've been invited!"
"Invited to what?"
"To meet one of the Tash Murkon! Maybe he'll be a man and he'll take you to your opening dance at the ball!

Ishtanchuk felt about to faint. There was nor rule for being invited after the dinner -simply, the Tash Murkon family members could invite a New Lady and talk with her or even take her to the ball, if they wished so. That was one of the few occasions in which even a member of the petty novelty could make a invaluable acquittance among the higher castes.

Overwhelmed and excited, Ishtanchuk was led by a Guardian Lady; they were not servants but nuns, and they were unofficially tasked with preserving the dignity and honor of the parties involved when the teen New Ladies encountered people who could be well above them in the social ladder. The Guardian Lady assigned to Ishtanchuk was in her 60s, apparently, and warned Ishtanchuk with all sort of unnecessary repetitions of everything she had been taught about behaving in social situations with the higher novelty.

Ishtanchuk and the Guardian Lady entered a private room, and there was a man with the Tash Murkon family seal on his dark clothes. Ishtanchuk didn't knew him, and anyway the man was wearing dark glasses, which concealed part of his face. He spoke very softly and the Guardian Lady repeated his name to Ishtanchuk, then she was invited to seat in a chair in front of the man. Ishtanchuk was very excited, but the soft speaking of the man soothed her. Most of the time it was the man who spoke, and Ish had to tilt forward as delicately as she could, to listen to him; then she would answer in a similarly soft voice. The interview lasted some 20 minutes and the main matter was Ishtanchuk, her family, what did her family do, a long explanation on possible common relatives among the Tash Murkon man and Ish, and so. Then it ended and the Guardian Lady reminded Ishtanchuk that she should walk to the Tash Murkon man and offer him her right hand so he could kiss it; the man did so and then he dismissed Ishtanchuk.

The Guardian Lady took Ish to the hall were the Ball was being held, and they didn't talked until they were close enough to listen to the music. Then the Guardian Lady asked Ishtanchuk:
"Milady, had you ever worn a dress like this?"
"No, never... well, only to try it before the Presentation"
"And your parents didn't told you how to wear it?"
"Excuse me?"
"Nevermind... probably nobody expected you to... But a mother should expect the unexpected"
"My mother? What...?"
"Silence, milady. Enjoy the Ball"

(continues)
Indahmawar Fazmarai
#2888 - 2014-12-08 10:14:54 UTC
(continued)

Puzzled by the Guardian Lady's words, Ishtanchuk almost didn't saw her parents until they reached her and greeted her. Ishtanchuk wanted to dance and so she didn't answer most of their questions, and she didn't recalled the words of the Guardian Lady until much later that night, when she and her parents were at their rooms in the hotel assigned to them -the Fazmarai couldn't find a place in any of the palaces that hosted other guests. After her mother brushed Ishtanchuk's hair, Ish told her about the conversation with the Guardian Lady, but her mother wasn't as intrigued as Ishtanchuk. She only was interested when Ish said that the Tash Murkon man talked very soft and she had to tilt forward to listen to him, but she said nothing.

Ishtanchuk noticed that apparently there was something with that, and so she took a chair of the bedroom and placed it before a large mirror located inside the door of the closet. Several hours earlier, she had checked her dress in that same mirror, and now she sat and looked at her reflection again. Her loose hair didn't made her look any less beautiful, but she couldn't see anything wrong. Then she tilted forward, as she had been doing during the interview, and was shocked. Without her noticing, the weight of her bosom pushed the dress, opening the decolletage and exposing a good portion of her breasts... Ish blushed as nobody ever had warned her; it was the first time she was wearing such a dress, how could she figure...? Ishtanchuk looked at her reflection as a young lady with the naive face, exposing her bosom over and over again, and she understood that that hadn't been an accident. The Tash Murkon man had hoped to give a good look, and he had got it... thus the dark glasses. And when Ish bowed so he could kiss her hand... why, oh why she hadn't thought about holding her dress on her chest?

"He's been looking at my boobs, all the time. Maybe he picked me just because I had the large bosom. Nobody prevented me... I've been looked at as a breeding cow in a fair. Just like bloody cattle", she whispered. Ish felt her blood boiling with indignation and embarrassment, and she bit her teeth to avoid crying. Then Ishtanchuk looked at the mirror and saw an alien reflection. It was not a child any more but a woman whose dignity had been abused. And she was upset, extremely upset, and her eyes reflected an urge to destroy and do harm to the man who had abused her naivety. That was not what a lady was supposed to feel, and looking back for years to come, Ishtanchuk would know that that was the time when the underlying stream of heterodoxy in her character surfaced and started the path that would end with being a capsuleer... anything but cattle to look at for breeding.


Now, 16 years later, Ishtanchuk the broken capsuleer looked again at an alien reflection. She looked down and saw her bosom; the left breast was large and firm and as beautiful as usual; but the right one had sagged like a punctured balloon, was smaller, paler, and the tip was misaligned, pulled towards the purple scars on the outer flank. The contrast of the wounded breast with its couple only made it worst. Ishtanchuk choked a horrified scream, and then bite her fist and burst in tears. If... if she was trapped with that body forever... no. Not if. Even if she never recovered her capsuleer functions, whoever had done that to her would regret it. She would find a way to leave the hospital or whatever it was; and once out, even if she couldn't fly ships with her mind, she would command them. She would seek revenge... sooner or later, someone would pay for destroying her body and her ability to switch back to her former being.


During the following days, Ishtanchuk started her plans to get away from the installation, whatever it was. Evasion by force was quickly dismissed as the security was very thorough; there were only three doors leading outside of the corridor, one on each end, and a third one at the nurses' room; they all where operated from the outside and had been built as airlocks, with a second door outside of the one facing the corridor. There were no windows and Ish couldn't be sure of where the corridor was; whether it was a part of a larger building or a underground structure, or maybe a part of a space station, as there were no noises nor any indication on what was going outside.

Thus, Ishtanchuk figured that the only way to leave the Hall was through contacting the outside. Even if she was puzzled by how nobody was worried by her absence for almost two months, her friends would respond to a distress call. Anyway, she quickly concluded that there were no communication devices and albeit Dr. Masure used a pad, it had all connections disabled. Ishtanchuk was effectively cut from the outside, and so she started thinking about her last resort: human factor.

(continues)
Indahmawar Fazmarai
#2889 - 2014-12-08 10:15:51 UTC
(continued)

Who could help her? The physiotherapist assisting her rehabilitation had been replaced with a medical robot; the CONCORD agents were silent to the point of being comical; agent White obviously would not help at all, and the nurses where the only personnel who worked with Ishtanchuk. Ishtanchuk already had grown the custom to go to the nurses' room and speak to them, and even would eat her meals in that room. They had a small computer terminal without access to external networks and a video games machine, and also a TV screen as the one Ish had in her bedroom. Ishtanchuk almost laughed one day when she noticed that the TV broadcast, made from a selection of channels, featured only content that involved the revelation of secrets. Everything from drama to the few news, impossible to link to any certain date, worked in the same direction, pushing on Ishtanchuk about the benefits of not keeping secrets. The nurses, anyway, weren't good talkers; and soon they started shifting each three days. That made impossible to gain any kind of intimacy with them, and strengthened Ishtanchuk's sense of isolation.

Yet the nurses where Ishtanchuk's only option to communicate and make known to her acquaintances where she was so they could find a way to rescue her. Her first attempt, though, was the last one. The nurses were a Caldari old woman and a younger Minmatarr, and Ishtanchuk picked the Minmatarr woman as she looked more open. Ishtanchuk explained her the situation, but soon noticed how the nurse was not interested, and then suddenly she talked, for the first time:

"What are you telling me? Why you think it is my business? Listen, you're Amarr, and we never forget what your people did to ours. I don't know who you are, I don't care, and I don't even know what this place is or where it is. They put us in a shuttle and send us here to take care of a patient -you. Even if I was tempted to put myself in trouble I would not be able to tell anyone where you are. And that's fine to me, you capsuleers just stir trouble whenever you can!"

Ishtanchuk was appalled and considered whether the nurse was lying about the secrecy of the installation. But, why would she? Ishtanchuk walked to her room, entered the toilet and sat on the WC, then embraced her knees and allowed despair to flood her. She was not getting any help. She could not leave. She could not talk. And nobody knew where she was. Her only choice was to withstand the situation until she buckled or it was late enough so Eugerelia's clone was finished and Indahmawar could care of transferring her mother's mind to that new body. But as far as anything she could do, Ishtanchuk was not going nowhere...


"Come in, take a seat", said a man with a CONCORD uniform. His guest was a middle aged man of average height, with a thin chiseled face on a triangular chin and dim gray eyes under a large forehead. He shook the officer's hand with confidence, and then sat down.
"Thank you for seeing me, Adurrel", said the thin man.
"You're welcome, Succus", answered the officer. He knew that Succus was not the real name of his guest, and also knew that he was a resourceful man with connections in shady places. Before the meeting, officer Adurrel had read a report on what Succus was doing, according to the Law. Apparently Succus' current job was a legal one as barman and security officer of a bar located in a station in Gallentean space, and the officer wanted that Succus knew that he knew it, so he asked:
"And well Succus, how's the Greater Fool Bar doing? Are you having fun there?"
"It's a nice job. Certainly quieter than some of the stuff I've done in the past."
"And why the change? You fancied living in Empire space again?"
"Sort of that. Also there was some nice perks with the job. Like the lady I told you"
"Oh, the missing capsuleer. Who is she, to you?"
"She is my assignment", answered Succus, emotionless. He was too experienced to let emotions show, but he couldn't help to feel uneasy. Certainly Ishtanchuk Fazmarai was her assignment as her boss and owner of the bar. But she was also a bit more, since she had showed openly more than casual interest on Succus with a first and last kiss that had shaken Succus' confidence. Even before the kiss, Succus knew that accepting a job because he liked the employer was a bad move, but after spending a long season with the Gurista pirates, he wanted some quiet and rest. If the perks included a beautiful lady with warm hazel eyes and a short but curvy figure, that was even better. And it all was going well until she...

(continues)
Indahmawar Fazmarai
#2890 - 2014-12-08 10:16:45 UTC
(continued)

"... just vanished" -finished Succus, after a brief account-. "I gave you the details: she went into that station and that was all on the logs; they show nothing. She never left and yet isn't there."
"Well, as you know, CONCORD have a policy of need to know on secrets. I can tell you that as far as I can know there is no secret concerning that station nor that girl. I've gathered all the information you asked from the station police, and you know how difficult is that. Everybody wants to be king of his little farm, to say so, and station police worries when someone steps on their premises"
"I am more interested on criminal connections, actually. How's the local crime syndicates?"
"Nothing special, the usual two or three large groups who put their fingers on every dish and some minor organizations. But, you can't be serious if you mean that those guys meddled with capsuleers. Even if they dared, that would be scoop news "
"I know. I just wonder whether they know something nobody else knows. Frankly, I've exploited every other resource and my criminal connections can't dig very deep in foreign territories. I've been nesting my people at our home system, but she just left without warning, for a short trip, and that was all. Her acquaintances think she's in a secret vacation, as the lady uses to do it. But it's been more than two months and I have a hunch that something is wrong with her disappearance."
"Well, good luck with that last bullet, if you say so. But there isn't much to say. There was a small terror attack on a lawyers office the week before your lady visited the station, and that settled what appeared to be a potential gang war. There hasn't been any more violence since, nor anything unusual. And after all capsuleers can go in as a capsuleer and get out as a commoner with any commercial flight. Her shuttle still is docked and the fees are being paid automatically..."
"I know, I know. But I won't buy the voluntary disappearance until I have some solid proof. Just find that a woman like her left the station and a clue on her next directions and that will be all for me. Will not chase her if she doesn't wants... but first I must be certain that everything was OK since she entered the station and we stopped having news on her"
"I wish you good luck and success, Succus. If there's anything else I can do I will oblige. But I tell you: if there's something hidden in that station, I can't know it, nor you can"
"Don't worry. I just needed you to open the police nut and get a foothold with the local gangs. I thank you for your work, and I hope we'll meet again in best circumstances, or an instance when I can do something for you again"

The CONCORD officer smiled as he noticed how Succus reminded him how their relation started. Getting favors from a man like Succus was never free, but then one could meet far worst people than him. And if he was so excited about a little lass as to chase her across half New Eden, well, what could he say? The lady certainly was pretty, and it would be a pity that she was in distress...


71 days. Ishtanchuk checked her calculation again and it appeared very sound. She felt terribly tired and uncomfortable. She was tired of wearing the hospital gown and no more panties than the same set of three. She only had two pair of socks and one set of slippers. And now the air conditioning was high in all the complex, and she would had caught a cold if the environment wasn't sterile. Cold made her feel weak, to the point of dismissing the idea of starting a hunger strike to force her captors to release her. Her morale was low as now the nurses shifted each two days, and the interrogations would take several hours in the morning and in the evenings... how, how could she withstand that for a few months more? And how in heavens had she messed herself into that situation?

Laying on the bed, covered with the blanket and curled to keep warm, Ishtanchuk acknowledged that depression was setting on her. And she could not make a thing about it... she could not..

Then she heard noises. Footsteps approached and the door unlocked so someone could come in, but it was not the time of some scheduled activity. Intrigued by the novelty, Ishtanchuk stood on the bed. Then the door opened and a man stepped in and stood by the door looking at Ishtanchuk.

He was an Achura with a unusual tan complexion, sporting a small pencil mustache and cropped hair. He looked at Ishtanchuk and set his arms ajar as Ish's eyes opened wide. Startled, she stepped from the bed and stood looking at he man, and then Ishtanchuk ran to him and cried:

"Hiro! It's you!"

The man smiled broadly and opened his arms to catch Ishtanchuk as she reached him, and then he took her small body in his arms and lifted Ish on her tiptoes as she looked for his mouth and kissed him.

(continues)
Indahmawar Fazmarai
#2891 - 2014-12-08 10:17:36 UTC
(continued)

"Hiya, Jiggles! That's what I call a welcome!"
"Oh don't call me Jiggles!", laughed Ishtanchuk, and then kissed him again, slowly.
"Well well well, someone's been starved of sweet loving here, isn't?"
"Oh, stop kidding! Now take me out of this place and tell me how in heavens did you find me and why took you so long!"
"Find you? Please Ish, what are you talking about?"
"Hiro? Haven't you come to rescue me?", asked Ishtanchuk, her smile frozen in her face.
"Rescue you? From what? Ishtanchuk, I thought you had been misbehaving, since they told me you were being transferred in"
"Transferred? What...?"
"Transferred to The Dome. I've been there for a few months now, and then just yesterday I was told that a friend was coming in; they gave me your name and well, I wanted to meet and greet you. But nobody told me that you were in a hospital... or whatever is this place"
"No, this is no hospital, I... they've been keeping me as a prisoner, actually"
"A prisoner? Wait, what's this story about?" Hiro was obviously puzzled, and then Ishtanchuk felt a cold shiver down her spine. She felt like crying, but then she saw officer White coming down the corridor. Ishtanchuk stood still and looked at the Caldari woman waiting for her words.

"I am glad that you met your friend, Mistress Fazmarai. As you may guess a decision has been taken about your situation. Your health is recovered to the point where staying here can't help you further, and apparently you're feeling uncomfortable with the environmental control here. Also, since you won't help us to keep you safe, we've decide to move you to a different facility, where other former capsuleers will be your new companions. We checked all backgrounds and Mr. Hiro is the only one you knew. We've established that he's not a liability for your personal security"

Ish would swear that officer White was smiling at that point. What did she knew? Hiro and Ish were more than friends and less than a couple, certainly: Hiro was one of the first capsuleer acquaintances of Ishtanchuk, and a few things more she wouldn't felt comfortable if someone like officer White could know.

"So you're sending me where? What is The Dome?"
"We could call it a retirement house for former capsuleers, Mistress Fazmarai. According to Dr. Masure it's still unclear whether you're still a capsuleer or don't, as your brain keeps playing with your implants or vice versa. But you have nothing to fear and we have nothing to worry about sending you to The Dome. You can contact me anytime when you remember something that could help us on the shooting."
"Shooting?", muttered Hiro, and Ishtanchuk answered, gravely:
"That's a long story, Hiro. As for you, officer White, I can only assure you one thing. This will be over, one way or another, sooner or later; and then I will look for you, and you will not like it when we meet again"
"Oh, Mistress Fazmarai, spare yourself the drama. Don't you think that my real name is White? We CONCORD are very aware on what disgraceful bunch of thugs are you the capsuleers. I am confident that my organization will thank me and my effort and will keep me safe from your petty vows of revenge. We'll meet when you're willing to help me in keeping you safe. Failing that, you will be safe at The Dome until you can help us. Until then, good bye, Mistress Fazmarai."

Ishtanchuk bit her lip and attempted to keep a calm face. Nothing mattered, actually. She wanted to ask about Dr. Masure, but that would be seen in the future. Also agent White. Also that awful place. And whatever was The Dome. Everything, everything could wait. Ishtanchuk looked at Hiro, and probably they could see each other for the first time without the haze of emotion. Hiro was thinner than usual, and there was something wrong in his smile. And obviously now he could see the scars on Ishtanchuk's jaw and lips, and her cropped hair, and the asymmetry of her chest.

"Well then, this hasn't finished yet", whispered Ishtanchuk.
"I am lost, Ish. But anyway, I've brought some clothes with me... they're of official issue, I fear. But may be better than that hospital gown..."
"Surely they will be", answered Ishtanchuk, attempting to smile. Now she could see how Hiro's clothes were reminiscent of a uniform, albeit they had been tailored to fit him. Hiro smiled and said:

"Well, now if we can lock that door and test this clothes on you..."

Ish looked up to him, and then she recalled her wounded bosom. "Jiggles", she thought. "You don't..."
"Not now, Hiro", she said. "I... need to be alone for a while so I can... "
"Cry?", finished Hiro.
"Probably yes. And maybe pray so somebody eventually misses me enough to look after me... no matter how hidden... I must be sure that they will find me"
"I don't understand anything, Ish. But whatever it is, you know that you can count on me"
"I will thank God for that, Hiro. At least, now I am not alone."

Then Ishtanchuk pushed Hiro softly, taking a travel bag from his hands, and closed the door behind. Slowly and mechanically, Ishtanchuk undressed and started putting on the Dome uniform, repeating to herself, over and over:

"This hasn't finished yet, but now I am not alone. I am not alone... I am not alone!"

END of Part 2.
Indahmawar Fazmarai
#2892 - 2014-12-08 10:27:01 UTC  |  Edited by: Indahmawar Fazmarai
So now you just entered the thread... and there's a lot of new posts... with a story 10,100 words long??

Don't panic! Here is a link to the first post of the story:

https://forums.eveonline.com/default.aspx?g=posts&m=5282045#post5282045

And another link to the first post of the first part:

https://forums.eveonline.com/default.aspx?g=posts&m=4083793#post4083793

Also have a link to a PDF version of the first part of Falling star (The corridor):

https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/u/43813009/Falling%20Star%20part%20one%20-%20The%20corridor%20pdf.pdf

And to the second part (The Hall):

https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/u/43813009/Falling%20Star%20part%20two%20-%20The%20Hall%20pdf.pdf


The Hall can be read as a independent story, but 'The corridor' is a nice read too and provides some extra background. As you may figure (or fear, at this point) there will be a third part of the story, namely Part three: The Dome. That should be the last part of Falling Star...
Samoth Egnoled
Caldari Provisions
#2893 - 2014-12-09 10:24:50 UTC
Read it, moar please. I have a need for stories to read at work ☺
Random McNally
Stay Frosty.
A Band Apart.
#2894 - 2014-12-09 15:19:29 UTC
Wow.....

Excellent work.

Host of High Drag Podcast. http://highdrag.wordpress.com/

Space music http://minddivided.com

I G Channel HighDragChat

Broadcast4Reps
Wanda Fayne
#2895 - 2014-12-24 22:14:35 UTC
How nice of you to subtly introduce me to this thread!
I had no idea...

(Peels off the hot sticky leather and slips into a nice warm bath drawn with lavender oil. The soft candlelight dances shadows across the screen as the words appear before my eager young eyes)

Post 1...

"your comments just confirms this whole idea is totally pathetic" -Lan Wang-

  • - "hub humping station gamey neutral logi warspam wankery" -Ralph King-Griffin-
Random McNally
Stay Frosty.
A Band Apart.
#2896 - 2014-12-26 17:50:18 UTC
(looking forward to post 2) Blink

Host of High Drag Podcast. http://highdrag.wordpress.com/

Space music http://minddivided.com

I G Channel HighDragChat

Broadcast4Reps
Indahmawar Fazmarai
#2897 - 2014-12-28 09:51:41 UTC
Alone in her appartment, Indahmawar opened the envelope containing the first print proof of the "Ladi sof New Eden YC 117 Calendar", whcih after many twists and turns, had become a reality. Admiring the quality of the paper, she turned the month sheets, and found the October one.

There she was, with the shy face which, according to the photographer, better depicted her. As usual she watched at her small bosom, and wondered why couldn't she be any larger... knowing that she *could*, being a capsuleer, but didn't dared to. Browsing the pages, she counted and noticed how there were four girls with a small bust, four with a large one, and five with average bust. They all looked good, even with the unfashionable CONCORD Standard Issue underwear.... Ishtanchuk even had managed to make the awful pants look smaller and sexier than they were.

Some of the girls were patrons of The Greater Fool Bar, others don't. Some were better known and other almost unknown. The Fock sisters... they had talked to Succus and had been enlisted, but Indahmawar never had engaged them. They made an interesting composition, with a double dose of beautiful Brutor... Actually the calendar was quire diverse, even as the only criteria used to enlist girls was that they were willing to pose in their undies.

Indahmawar kept browsing the calendar and stopped at feburary. Ishtanchuk... were was she? Nobody had heard of her for more than four months, and now Indahmawar agreed with Succus that it was worrying. She figured that Succus was looking for Ishtanchuk, maybe even before Indah felt concerned. But also didn't helped that Ishtanchuk's funds were vanishing and now Indahmawar had to ask Yiole for help in paying the Sansha agents growing a healthy clone for Indahmawar's mother...
Samoth Egnoled
Caldari Provisions
#2898 - 2014-12-29 07:27:55 UTC
Merry Christmas to all, Indah, when can we expect part 3?
Random McNally
Stay Frosty.
A Band Apart.
#2899 - 2014-12-31 15:03:10 UTC
A very happy New Year to all.

Host of High Drag Podcast. http://highdrag.wordpress.com/

Space music http://minddivided.com

I G Channel HighDragChat

Broadcast4Reps
Indahmawar Fazmarai
#2900 - 2014-12-31 20:15:15 UTC  |  Edited by: Indahmawar Fazmarai
Happy New Year to everybody, when it's your local time to celebrate. Follow the local customs and take care in case that they're hazardous! Bear

Also remember to trash the old calendars and pin your YC 117 calendars on the wall.