The continuing saga of the former slave Iona Kaladoria

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Log #1
Slavery… A scourge that has followed mankind beyond the stars. It takes many forms. To the Gallente could be a cycle of drug adiction and the means you go to to get your next experience. Lost and bound in the pleasure districts. To the Caldari wages, and the job. Fall a foul of your bosses and you can never expect to go beyond the bottom life. Poverty and the mindless drudgery of endless work for a wage that will never get you ahead.

But for me and my family it was the Amarr. Their elegant society of pious devotion and service to some lost faith. Their system built on the backs of the oppressed. My parents told me stories of our lost past. A clan set free to start anew in a land without masters, the rewards granted to those tough enough to meet the riggers of life where no human has put down roads.

Then they came for us. From the skies. Declaring themselves to be the light of humanity. To bring the children of EVE to their glorious rebirth. We were told we would join this great cause and be the tool by witch humanity would prosper. My family many generations ago were taken those first of us subject to terrible acts. Though we would come to bare the shock rods and the lifeless existence doing the work our so called masters wouldn’t soil their hands to do. We vowed never to forget our stories.

And here my story begins. Born on a labor colony. We were to make the food needed to feed the empire of the Amarr. As a child it was all work. We were used to service the machines as we were small enough to fit in the gaps in the machines. Many died when the things we worked on began to move or parts shifted. I learned the interacate workings of many machines. I did come to have a pride in my work. As I grew older the choice became the fields or the refineries in space. My skills got me off the world of my birth. Where to this day my clan and family still labor.

The life of a mechanic on the bowls of a ore refinery, nothing could of prepared me for. And worse. Our over seers and the guards and even many of my fellow workers resented my skill and that I was a woman. Wile I was useful and got the job done it was often the most dirty or dangerous jobs. All the women working there had their other problems. The slave life tends not to allow much for one to complain about some things. Though many of those I worked with were from backgrounds of oppression I didn’t owe them anything.

And one day this all changed. As life often does. A single moment can lead to massive changes. I never learned why or what they were after. But as it came to pass A Minmatar raiding party stormed the refinery. Wile I never expected the outcome I decided to get a little payback. I could then simply blame it on the raiders. I happened to servicing a set of power relay conduits. A dangerous job as a energy spike or bumping the wrong thing could fry you. It helps if you not some hulking meat head. I tweaked a few things in the conduit in witch to cause a sudden overload further down the line.

Well hell if it was luck or just a mass of shoddy workmanship by other work crews. Not that I blame any of the work crews. But the overload was bigger than I expected and cascaded all over the station. Knocking all kinds of systems out. There may have also been damage due to the raid that played a part. But utter pandemonium was the result. No one seemed to know what to do or where to go. I ran others ran. Machines going out of control. Conduits exploding. I was sure the old place was going to go up. And I was doomed. But fate gave me a out. There he was. Armed and not dressed like anyone Ive seen there. Moving down a corridor, I don’t know what made me chase after. But before I knew it I rounded a bend and came right into a gathering of the raiders. Making their way back to their ships.

I ran to them pleading “I don’t want to die here” “Ill fight the Amarr, please take me with you!” Then the whole station shook. Someone shouted if you can run fast enough maybe we wont close the door on you. With that they all ran. I followed as fast as I could. We made it to their ship. Standing there dazed and confused the man i followed came up to me and patted my back.

“welcome to the fight comrade.” he said. "i hope there’s more to you than crushing rocks. We have plenty of those."
I told him. “well I know my way around more inner working of machines than anyone on that station.” “That mayhem with the power grid Was just a bit of work on my part.”

“Well HOLY ****!” " Thought we would have a hard time getting what we were after I guess we owe ya a thanks." “if your serious about the taking up the fight we will drop ya off at the Cpasulier Academy. I know some people that will let ya skip some of the red tape. BUT don’t think i’m doing you a favor. the training is insane. and your body wont be the same ever again.”

I then was taken to the training center. All the um joyous cyber surgery was not so bad beatings in the refinery leave you worse off. and the doctors want you to live here.

Log 2

Academy training is going well. Being one with a whole ship is amazing. The nerv. feedback system makes it like you feel everything around you. The cold vastness of space the heat of the reactor. All the data of the cosmos dumped into your nervous system. To say you feel vast and tiny at the same time is the best way to describe things.

At first I went through a lot of simulator training. Wile i knew in my head it was not real. DAMB! did it feel real when data was being fed into your nervous system. Makes you question reality. Its only what one feels or what is actually happening to ones body.

BUT my path is clear. Get through training and join the fight to free my family and my people. I have found a lot of different people with different reasons for going into the training. But if you just wanted to make ISK there are safer ways to do so. Than risk your body in empty space.

I was told today that my mind would be transferred to a clone body upon my death. I didn’t know how to take that. What exactly now am I to the Republic. A tool to be swapped out with a similar one? If I die will I loose what makes me me? I didn’t even know this was possible until today. What have I done to my self? But i guess if my goal in existing can be maintained beyond this husk of water and minerals, than I can keep fighting for a future where we can be free to live the life we chose to live. And not have the twisted wills of others dictate how we are to be used.

Log 3

A real ship! I was given what they call a Reaper Corvette. Sadly it didn’t feel much different than being in a simulator. I guess data is data. To be honest I’m kinda disappointed. This is not much better than being a unwired fighter pilot. My augments allow me to be the nexus of a Dreadnought and here I am putting around in a wad of scrap they call a warship. But I guess my trust must be earned. Can’t expect to take the fight to the Amarr in a Battle-cruiser if I can’t even handle a corvette.

One of my first missions was simply to patrol a part of a few systems and shadow a fleet on maneuvers. What happened then I’ll never forget. My sensor array went wild and the short range coms traffic was a confused jumble of transmissions. I got surprise and Drifters through the mess over and over again. I set my course to battle determined to help in any way I could. But by the time I got there it was to late. All was lost.

I then received a transmission from a fleet commander. She tasked me with searching for survivors. I was able to rescue a few. But I also managed to rescue a Sister Of EVE Researcher. She was very grateful for saving her. The section of ship she was in was beginning to have issues maintaining what little air was left in it. Then there was the prospect of a Drifter fleet returning to scour the place for people and anything of value.

I found my self stuck in a warp inhibitor field. As there was not much putting around just some Drifter seekers. I was able to destroy the inhibitor and make a run for safety before the Drifter fleet showed up.

I then helped the commander and the sister discover the location and access codes to a Drifter hive. The commander assembled a fleet to take the fight to the hive. I was aloud to follow as I had been useful in my task. The fleet was massive. I sent the codes to command and the fleet went out to do battle. I followed behind after getting some equipment. The fight was intense. Swarms of seekers came out the hive. The order was given to destroy the hive. But I was tasked with the last shots to the reactor body after the structure was opened up. The fleet moved off. I flew into the hole in the structure and blasted the primary reactor apart. I managed to fly out but was caught in the blast. My ship crumbled around me. The capsule cracking under the blast. Even its enhanced structure buckling under the force of the hive going up.

Then all went blank. emptiness is a odd feeling. being aware of the passage of time but not having any physical contact with the world. Then the world comes crashing back to me in a moment my whole life rushes into my awareness. The pain was immense. From nothing to everything. I screamed like no soul in the universe could possibly have. Then it was all normal just feeling of being me like before my training mission. But I remembered all of what happened.

I was told I was extremely lucky as My cyberdised brain had survived the blast on basic life support long enough for a fleet ship to recover it. Most pilots who have happen what I experienced usually are not recovered in time to keep the brain intact. I was also told That it was installed into a clone DNA generated body. So I guess I’m still me and at the same time My new body doesn’t have all the familiar scars from my years of captivity.

I don’t feel real any more. But I was made full Capsuleer. So now I guess my body really is a tool of the republic. Even though i have freedom to do as I please. I owe my tribe my life and freedom. I will chose the path that will lead to liberation of my family. I can still call them that even though I inhabit a clone. Lucky for me my me bit is still leftover. But thats just what I’ve been told. I’m not sure whats true any more.

The first thing ill do is go to a tattoo artist and have the markings of my tribe added to my face as a promise never to forget them. I am wedded to war. I shall free my people. I also took a lazrod and reapplied my scars of my past to this new pristine clone. I will never be comfortable in this new skin if it doesn’t remember the abuse and suffering, the accidents, being crammed into all those machines. The times I could of died but for some reason survived to this moment.

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Log 4

Fleet command wile allowing me the freedom to peruse my new life and service. They did recommend I look-in on carrier paths that most capsuleers take up. The carrier agents at the facilities around Malukker Have been quite helpful. As my training was rushed I missed a lot of this. And wile the prospect of profit and industrial service seems nice. I must peruse the path of liberation.

To earn my place in the struggle I’m now tasked with dealing with pirate crime and other disruptions within tribe territory. I’m beginning to realize my rage and desire to free my family has made me blind to many things. One of witch being if you wish to endeavor outward to save a loved one your home must be in good order less when you return with those you free they will be greeted with ruin and strife as the home you had has fallen to rot wile you were away.

So I leave Malukker to make my home among the fighters for the freedom off all humanity with in New Eden. Well for some the freedom to be slave to their personal situation. But as I’ve said. Slavery can take many unusual forms. Even loyalty blind and unthinking can make one a slave to the force that directs their hearts. As I sit here in my capsule I must remind my self wile my people need help to free them from their bondage. There maybe many ways to achieve this end. So I must not make blind decisions with out careful thought of how I affect others.

The Amarr though hated, I must remember that they are also born to their system of belief. They are slaves to their dogma and ideology. But the fact remains I must free my people.

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