YC113.09.16
THE FORGE REGION—KIMOTORO CONSTELLATION
THE KISAGO SYSTEM—PLANET VII
STATE WAR ACADEMY
The hum of the station’s distant reactor reverberated through the walls, a low, rhythmic sound that could lull anyone to sleep. The personnel quarters’ lighting was spectrum-tuned to promote melatonin production during sleep rotations, while the shape-flexible mattress adapted to my body for maximum comfort. Even the blanket on top of me has the ability to adjust its mass for a soothing sleep experience. Every condition for optimal sleep was perfect—I should’ve been able to get a solid eight hours of sleep in preparation for the procedure tomorrow. So why have I been staring at the ceiling wide awake despite technology’s best efforts to get me to sleep—short of using a wrench.
I’m not sure if I’m scared or eager. Terrified or thrilled. The rush of excitement crashes into a wave of trepidation, leaving me suspended between them. So here I am, floating in unease, yet with only one direction forward. I came this far from the near endless orphanages of my youth, not because I was exceptional. No, to the Deteis, I was a genetic glitch in their program. I was ‘born’ in YC84, one of the many Tube Children created through a now controversial Deteis program. When the Caldari-Gallente war erupted nearly two centuries ago, the State faced a population deficit of tens of billions compared to the Federation—and it was on the losing side of that gap.
The Deteis developed the ‘Tube Child’ program, an artificial population growth initiative. The program had served its purpose for almost two centuries. It had the desired effect of boosting the population and countering wartime displacement and the State’s limited conscription efforts. With populations stabilized, the State ended its sponsorship of the Tube Child program. Any remaining undeveloped Tube Children were biomassed. When I took my first breath, wailing for a mother who was never there, I was already one of the last of my kind—just days past the threshold that would have sealed my fate. The thought haunted me for years—I had been just days away from never existing at all. My name remained my Tube Child designation: LYN2011.
A genetic glitch—that’s what they called me. I learned the truth because of a lottery, of all things. After years of surviving between orphanages scattered across Low Security space of Black Rise and Lonetrek, and then odd jobs in The Forge region…I was given an opportunity to see if I was exceptional. Despite ongoing discrimination, ‘TeeCees’ were granted the same rights as naturally born Caldari citizens—including the chance to enter the lottery for SSC status: State-Sponsored Capsuleer. There was a nominal processing fee, of course, TeeCees were so tightly regulated that only a handful of us had the genetic markers to qualify for the State’s Capsuleer program. To date, only around a million of the billions of currently alive TeeCees had met the qualifications. Not only did I qualify genetically—I also won the lottery that day. The crowd was not happy with me.
I was sent to the State War Academy in Kisago, entering its grueling program to forge my mind and body into that of a Capsuleer. Empyrion—Immortal. Only 1 out of every 100 candidates is successfully prescreened and qualifies to take the final step towards becoming a Capsuleer. I endured trials designed to break lesser minds and bodies, clawing my way past those who faltered. Five years and eight hours later it was finally time to cross my own Rubicon—with no sleep, of course. ■■■■ me.
===
Two hours later, I walked into the room assigned to me, where my fate would change forever. It was a clean, polished white room, one that could easily be mistaken for a Sisters of EVE recruitment center—or any room belonging to them. On one side, control consoles lined the walls, accompanied by a side table stacked with data sheets and portable tools for the technicians. Opposite each console stood a gray-blue bed, equipped with a machine on its left side that had a slot for an arm to be inserted. The machine had two ports on top, designed to inject the medicinal drugs and chemicals that would transform me into a Capsuleer. Behind each bed was a transparent tank, its curved surface containing a sleeping individual, unperturbed by the liquid they were submerged in. One of them resembled a more perfected version of myself.
This was my Rubicon. To become a Capsuleer I had to leave this body the State grew for me behind, trading one artificially grown body for another. My current body wouldn’t be capable of enduring the eternal existence I was about to begin. Each time I die, my consciousness would be instantly transferred to a new clone body. Among other things, this is what truly made a Capsuleer stand out in New Eden. In order to do this, I would be voluntarily euthanized and my consciousness transferred into my new Capsuleer body. I stared at my sleeping self, whose eyes had never opened—but in a short time, I would be seeing through them.
“LYN2011, are you ready to begin the procedure?” a clinical technician said behind me, holding what I assumed was my data sheets. Without looking at him, I looked around the room and saw that in this room there were six total arrangements, and I was only one of four people who decided to come to this point. I could tell because two of the six tanks and beds were draped in fabric sheets. There were four other rooms like this on the station. It would be unfortunate if we were the only four to make it this far into the program. I recognized the other three candidates from training…a man named Varek Tzoris, a man named Kaelen Ishikawa, and a woman named Miyra Kovalov. Varek appeared uneasy, his posture tense and his gaze frozen onto his clone.
I finally turned to the technician and said “I’m ready.”
===
Ten minutes later, I was stripped down, alongside the other candidates. Lying on the cold medical bed, I glanced up at my slumbering self behind me. With one of my final movements in this body, I guide my left arm into the cold embrace of the euthanasia machine. For a brief moment I am entirely in tune with all of my senses as my arm slides into the slot. I feel goosebumps ripple across my skin, from my arm down to my feet. I lie there for an agonizing minute as technicians visit each of the four beds and insert a clear vial in each of the two ports atop the euthanasia machine, a blue vial and a yellow vial.
“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen,” the lead tech, a pale Deteis woman, addressed all of us, “I am Specialist Myra Taldora. It is an honor to be in the presence of future Capsuleers who will serve The State, for a contracted period, and bring honor to The State.
“When the procedure begins, the contents of the vials on your left will be injected into your bloodstream, and at the same time a transneural burn scanner will rise from behind you. This body of yours will begin to shut down vital functions as the burn scanner maps your mind and consciousness.”
Specialist Taldora reviews something on her data sheet, briefly interrupting her thought. She collects herself and continues.
“In the span of 10 seconds the process will be completed. Your body will be euthanized and your consciousness will reside in your new Capsuleer body. As an early pioneer once stated, ‘one must die to become immortal’.
“Rest assured, the 10 second process is for initial transference, the process is instantaneous from one Capsuleer body to another. Technician Solis, please begin the procedure—”
Specialist Taldora was interrupted when Varek screamed in fear, yanking his arm from the machine, blood streaming down his forearm where the intravenous needle had been. Varek protested that he couldn’t continue, and without fuss, the technician beside him clothed him and escorted him out. I barely raised my head to watch the scene unfold. With a sigh, Taldora scanned the room, seeing no other candidates dropping out, and continued.
“Technician Solis, please begin the procedure.”
===
After a few short minutes, which felt like an eternity, I heard motors hum inside the machine on my left. At the same time, an apparatus unfurled and positioned itself above my head. I saw two blue lights and two red ones on it, and a tiny arm with a light on it started shining at my forehead. I felt ice-cold fluids enter my bloodstream, spiderwebbing through the veins in my arm and into my chest. Soon after, the rest of my body went cold and numb. I remained awake, though my eyes fluttered as the drugs took hold. The light on my forehead intensified. I felt nothing of that part of the process. My mind raced—perhaps a side effect of the burn scanner— as it mapped every neuron of my brain, preparing to encapsulate my consciousness and transplant it into my new Capsuleer body. I heard Technician Solis say something. It sounded both distorted and unnervingly clear—a side effect of the burn scanner, most likely. I looked up at my new Capsuleer body, and I saw her eyes flutter.
“Transfer commencing in five… four…”
Darkness consumed my vision. My heart rate slowed, and my breathing ceased. I heard one final pair of sounds: the flatline of the heart rate monitor and the beeping of the brain activity monitor.
===
LYN2011 opened her eyes in the clone bay, fluttering as the fluid suspended and oxygenated her body. She looked down at her new naked form, she experienced the delicate touch of life in this newly-formed vessel. As she observed herself in the tank, she caught sight of her former body, the one she was born with and carried her to this point. She was immortal now. Technicians quickly covered the discarded bodies with fabric sheets, while other technicians approached the pods containing Capsuleers with data sheets in hand.
“LYN2011, congratulations on your transition to becoming a Capsuleer,” the female technician says. She then turns to the data sheets, and with a stylus in hand, she reads, “In accordance with Regulation 7.4.2, any individual, upon successfully transitioning to Capsuleer status, may keep or alter their given or designated name for a new one of their choosing,” the technician looks up at LYN2011, who is still looking at her former body, “Do you wish to exercise this option?”
“Yes,” LYN2011 says without hesitation, finally turning to look at the technician, “Lynne Ranjin.”
Once Lynne had given her answer, the technician nodded and processed the request, approaching Specialist Taldora casually. Lynne looks around the room, she is only able to see Kaelen because the other vantage points have fabric draped over them. They nod at each other, not afraid or embarrassed at their naked forms. A moment later, she was being moved to her personal Capsule-equipped quarters. Their pods descended into the floor, and Lynne was enveloped in darkness, the soft blue glow of her tank the only light remaining.
===
YC113.09.16
THE FORGE REGION—KIMOTORO CONSTELLATION
THE KISAGO SYSTEM—PLANET VII
STATE WAR ACADEMY
CAPSULEER PERSONAL HANGAR 83
Clothed and dry, Lynne Ranjin leaned against the railing overlooking her personal hangar from the balcony of her quarters. Her suite was expansive, with a living area filled with monitors and screens displaying her market and mission information. The sleeping area had a very comfortable bed and a closet filled with the newest Caldari fashions, with attire always at her fingertips. Capsuleers had access to luxury technology that was only available to the richest of citizens. In just five minutes, she had a full head of hair resting on her shoulders—she could change most things about her appearance if she desired—any alterations would be applied upon her next clone transfer. She breathed in the station’s recycled air, filling her fresh, unused lungs. It had an acrid tinge to it. Colors were vivid and sharp, the world around her brimming with crisp clarity. If she wanted to she could read the designation numbers on passing ships without even a squint. This was her body.
She looked on into her personal hangar and saw a ship being towed in by autonomous drones: An Ibis-class Corvette, its angular hull a patchwork of gray plating and Caldari insignia. Its forward-leaning cockpit gave it a predatory stance, while an asymmetrical turret mount jutted from its side like a raised fist. Rugged and utilitarian, it was a vessel built for function, not beauty—a steadfast sentinel in the cold expanse. Her ship. This would be a stepping stone to take her on this immortal journey.
She smiled softly, then walked back to the living area. Peering over the couch she saw she had a notification on the screen. She blinked, and the message appeared on screen with a single thought. While not plugged into her Capsule, the world reacted much slower to her commands—not instantaneous as it would be when interfacing directly with a ship, but it’s good enough for mundane tasks.
From: Ranta Tarumo
To: Lynne Rankin
Lynne paused reading the message. “Rankin”? That technician must have misheard her or put in the wrong key. She would have to see if she could change that later. She looked over at the mirror across the room. She saw herself. Everything is the same. Isn’t it? She shook her head gently and returned to the message. Tarumo congratulated her on completing the Capsuleer transition and requested that when she is finished with her business in Kisago to meet him to discuss a career as an Enforcer. Chasing pirates all day, she’d have to think about it. Even though she was under contract with the Caldari State as a State-Sponsored Capsuleer, she had far more freedom within the confines of her contract. She can join Capsuleer-ran Corporations, create them too if she wished. She can engage in open trade and other activities so long as they are legal within State sovereignty, and do so much more. She had all the time in the world.
Another notification appeared on her screen—two notifications.
You have been added as a Contact by Kaelen Ishikawa.
You have been added as a Contact by Miyra Kovalov.
Both read that she had been added as a positive contact. Maybe she’d hear from them as they went their separate ways in this immortal journey together. This is normal. She walked toward her Capsule, discarding her clothes along the way before entering the pod. As the pod sealed around her, a fluid mixture was pumped in to suspend her in place, her lungs filled with the oxygenated fluid. Conduits within the pod snaked and coiled around her body, connecting to ports installed along her spine. The conduits sent shivers and tingles up and down her body, and then she saw the pod through the eyes of an exterior camera drone. She saw herself from yet another perspective. She commanded the pod to connect and secure itself within the corvette. The universe was hers, waiting for her to seize it.
This is what I was meant for.