Back To Work

11...
10...
9...
8...

As the elevator counted down the numbers, I flexed my hands again, watching my slender fingers move. The meds at the clinic had done good work, healing out the scrapes and blisters they had received over the last days.

6...
...5 .

Unceremoniously the elevator doors slid apart, and I exited onto the capsuleer’s quarters level of the Freedom Extension Storage’s station in Petidu. As it befitted a Minmatar station, even the capsuleer levels extruded the charm of a steel building in an advanced state of decay. The only difference to the common levels was that the capsuleer levels were sporting a carefully monitored layer of actual rust, whereas the rest of the station had to make due with sprayed-on rust imitate.

Minmatar are weird.

But they put on interesting sporting events, like the Petidu Peak Melee, into which I had been roped in to help with operations. I couldn’t quite remember the how and why - in fact, the whole last week was a blur.

I did remember walking much, usually with heavy loads, and when I walked into the clinic this morning, I had acquired quite a collection of scabs. And as the meds informed me, at some point I must have stumbled into a poisonous plant as well. Repeatedly.

But was most present in my recollection was the fact how trusting the baseliners were with each other, despite the competitive nature of the event. So unlike us pod pilots, who would check each other for hidden weaponry even if we were stark naked.

It had been refreshing.

But as the bulkheads to my quarters ground open and I caught sight of my Purifier on the holo display, I fell in love with space all over again.

Two worlds, forever in collision.

Dropping my pack on the floor, I made myself comfortable on the couch and grabbed the controls for the viewscreen.

“Let’s see how many kills I now have to catch up to...”, I murmured to myself while pulling up the alliance’s killboard.

Hmm.. ok, two kills for the alliance at large, in our old home area. As for losses... about the same.

Oh, look, Mildly Intoxicated blew up an alliance tower in E-Y a week ago. Guess our blue standings no longer applied.

But nothing for the corp itself. Nor were there mails.

“Well...”

Shutting off the viewscreen, I rose and headed to the food terminal, and ordered myself a half-measure of an ale I had been introduced to over the last week. While the system was working on my order, I undressed, throwing my clothes onto the sad excuse this Minmatar station had to offer for a bed.

When my drink arrived, I downed it in one draw, and clapped my hands together.

“Back to work!”