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The Lives and Deaths of Nifong Vong; a capsule history of a Capsuleer.
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Nifong Vong
Federal Navy Academy
Gallente Federation
#1 - 2013-10-31 21:16:04 UTC
Where does one begin to describe ones life when one is not alive? These kinds of thoughts haunt me these days.
Nifong Vong always loved space. He was born of a pair of FreeMind Merchants nearly 34 Duripant years ago. Born in the long transit between Halle and Couster, his mother too stubborn to allow his father to dock at any of the nearly 20 stations they passed within hailing distance of, for fear of losing the Bonus for a speedy delivery.
At no point in the next twenty seven years did he ever think to allow his body to be desecrated with the newly emerging Capsule tech that Concord had been raving about being in final testing stages for most of his life. Like his parents before him he was content to be a FreeMind, roaming the stars in an old Amarr make cargo transport, rich beyond the dreams of avarice yet rarely in one planetary system longer than it took to unload, refuel, reload and launch. What wonder could a single body trapped around a single star offer for one who strode the stars themselves as a god?
That was the Before Time. The happy time. The not now. Before the days of the Serpentis.
It happened so fast Nifong was never fully able to figure out what happened first. The warp scrambler? The Stasis field? Or was it the Nosveratu? It didn't really matter. By the time the 125MM shells started tearing through the paper thin shields the Vong's Right was helpless.
Why the Serpents let him live he never understood. Maybe seeing what was left of him they didn't think he'd survive, and were too callus to offer mercy. It was only luck that a Fed Navy shuttle transporting some routine documents had stumbled upon the wreckage of the Right and saved him.
If saved is the right word. By the time the healer's were done what parts of his body weren't missing were burned beyond recognition or repair.
Nifong had only one choice. Accept transfer to a clone body, with all of the horrors of mechanical implants that included, or face the fact that he would die, most likely within a very few months. His one advantage was his extreme wealth. He was able to pay, out of his own pocket which left him indebted to none, for not only a complete clone upgrade package, including enough skill upgrade injections to be nearly as effective a pilot as he had been as a FreeMind, but also for a Catalyst class Destroyer.
The final day came. Nifong watched in fascination as the leads were connected to his skull for the final personality transfer before his original body would be terminated. He felt excitement at the thought that in just a few moments he would be walking again.
If I knew then what I know now...would I have made that same choice again? Would any of the me's who have been in the past six years, or any of those who will come, have made the same choice? These are the thoughts that haunt me these days.
Nifong Vong
Federal Navy Academy
Gallente Federation
#2 - 2013-10-31 22:01:59 UTC
What they don't tell you about, of course, is the pain. You wouldn't expect the simple downloading of a program, even one large enough to contain the personality of a sapient being, to hurt. It's just data flowing into a harddrive after all. But it hurts all the same. Every time. And then you open your eyes.
You see, your clone is electrocised while it's being formed, so your muscles are just as you remember them. All of your bones are your own bones. It all feels exactly like it did before that explosion spread your insides over half a light week. But they can't exercise your eyes. The first stab of light in the clone room, the first time your iris, tenderest of sphincters, dilates, is a pain that must be at least similar in kind if not in degree to childbirth.
But I digress.
My first reliving was probably unlike most other peoples. I had had no legs and no feet for long enough that my brain was no longer used to sending them signals. I stumbled out of my pod and nearly fell down. The Reliving Attendant, always there to make sure that your autonomic functions kick in properly when you reboot, was barely able to stifle a giggle at my clumsiness. I forgive her. In her shoes I might have laughed too.
Wanting to waste no time I left the Clone Bay and headed straight for the Hanger decks. Hard to believe that was only six years ago. They've made the process of getting into and out of your Capsule so much easier recently. In those days it was such a chore that nearly all Capsuleers never bothered to leave the Capsule at all. The Capsule takes care of all of your bodily needs, so leaving it is completely optional. Even today some of the Oldtimers still stay in their Capsule, even to sleep.
And then, there she was. The brand new Destroyer that was to become my home for so many months. With the barest thought I instructed the machinery to move my Capsule into place, and as I felt it seat itself against the shock bumpers and begin to make the connections to the ship's control systems I realized that it was now, not before, that I would stride the solar winds and eddie currents of warpspace as a god.
Every Capusleer knows the drill. That first time you ever sit in a Capsule and Aura, that beautiful, silky voice, enters your head and requests your clearance codes. Those drudging hours while she runs you through all of the tests to make sure that all of the connections are functioning properly so that you have control of your ship.
And then, I was a fully certified pilot. In a ship with five 75MM Railgun Mk I's, a single small combat drone, a full cargo bay of the cheapest ammo I could find, and vengeance in my soul. The Serpents had taken from me my Firstlife. I would take from them all of their lives.
"Aura," I said to the stillness of my Capsule. "Design course for Halle, Federal Navy Academy.