Quotes

Often, Sepherim Catillah mentions quotes of his officers in command, trainers, and friends. Here is a recollection of some of them:

"Mourn the dead, but live for those alive". Templar Liuteneant Portus Vanquis, August 10th, year 104. Right after the destruction of Sepherim's wing under torture and pain by the Blood Raiders.

Ship Log: Disturbing Data

Lou's Bar, recording started
Date: May 6th, year 115
Pilots present: Zsaryna Adrelana, Sepherim
 
Sepherim is seated in one of the booths at the far end of the bar, drinking alone while looking tranquil; some soft moans can be heard from the booth by his side, but he doesn't seem to notice
Sepherim checks his datapad from time to time, and doesn't wear his usual pilot clotes but common plain ones, propper of the working classes
Zsaryna Adrelana wanders into the bar. She's dressed in dark simple dark grey trousers and a red star shirt, along with a black bomber jacket. She's carrying a pistol on her hip and her eyes scan the bar nervously for movement before she wanders over to Sepherim.
Sepherim > Honey, long time no see!
Sepherim greets her with a warm smile
Sepherim > got your treat here
Zsaryna Adrelana sits down opposite him, bowing her head politely "Ave" she says softly, tapping an order for some food onto a datapad "Indeed, it has been too long" she says with a small nervous smile
Sepherim's tone lowers as she sits down as he watches Lou start preparing Zsaryna's food
Sepherim > hope you haven't had problems finding the place, captain Adrelana?
Zsaryna Adrelana shakes her head "it was easy enough... clearing Imperial customs was... interesting but I managed it" Zsaryna smirks guiltily "do you come here often?" She asks, deciding to make small talk, if only to put her nerves at ease
Sepherim > from time to time, yes, to meet with old acquaintances or keep some of the old contacts still available
Sepherim > but not as often as I used to
Sepherim > you would surprised to know the amount of information on the Bleak Lands that can be found in places like this
Sepherim watches as Lou silently walks up to them, puts down the plates, and leaves
Zsaryna Adrelana chuckles "fair enough" she replies "I have similar bars, both back home and in my old station, for meeting people" she grins as a steaming plate of bright pink steak and chips arrives "this looks good... you can't beat steak and chips after a long journey... places like this are good, they're quiet and anonymous... you're sure you weren't followed?" Zsaryna asks quietlySepherim > yes, I'm sure, some things you just never forget
Sepherim > I take it you weren't either? Both of us meeting could place us in certain... unconfortable positions for both of us
Zsaryna Adrelana shrugs "I'm alright... none of my current work associates would give a shit about me meeting you and most of my former work colleagues... well they're either dead or irrelevant, and I have people watching the place, belive me we're good"
Sepherim nods
Sepherim > then we can proceed
Sepherim takes a sip of his drink, which looks like whiskey on the rocks
Sepherim > tell me, what have you found out?
Zsaryna Adrelana's smirk becomes faintly predatory as she pulls out a datapad "Here we go..." she says, tapping a key into the aerogel screen with one hand, impaling one chip upon a fork with the other. "you've got money here from various slavers to turn a blind eye to thier operations in the war zone... our General would take money from the slavers, in return they'd take merchandize direct from the warzone rather than restricting thier operations to the rear areas... when thier personel started getting shot up, we were sent in to make a point"
Sepherim checks on the data Zsaryna is showing him as she speaks
Sepherim > can I copy those charts?
Zsaryna Adrelana nods "Sure, go ahead" she replies as she stabs another chip with particular vehemence
Sepherim starts the data transfer from one datapad to another
Sepherim > so, we have a case of corruption, and abuse of power, within the Imperial Navy...
Sepherim > just the kind of thing that... ah, doesn't matter, better not get that ball rolling
Sepherim > I'll need the names, if I am to look into it
Sepherim > after speaking to you the other day, I started asking some questions on your squadron, but most intel seems to be tightly closed beyond my access
Zsaryna Adrelana looks up at him "You sound surprised about that" Zsaryna says, raising an eyebrow before she takes the chips to her mouth "I'm not surprised about that by the way" she licks her lips slightly "Names... General Mye, Commander Azmeyah, and a few
Sepherim > and I'll need the origins if I'm going to get a hacker to look into it, the Navy databases are just too big to just go looking
Sepherim > surprised? no, tired mostly
Sepherim > it's the kind of shit that turns the Navy into a problem, when it shouldn't be such
Zsaryna Adrelana > other people here and there... and the origin is... here" she scrolls down onto the datapad and points something out "Unfortunately it's always been a problem, especially within my unit, as special forces"
Sepherim > General Mye, Commander Azmeyah, noted. Looks at the data she points to in the datapad
Sepherim > yes, specially when it goes all the way up to a corrupt General
Zsaryna Adrelana sighs quietly "Until about six to eight months ago, I wouldn't have told you this... but since then a few rather nasty things happened to me that caused me to rethink my loyalty to my Empire"
Sepherim leans back, checking the data, as he listens
Sepherim > things?
Sepherim starts choosing options, following the money trail that Zsaryna pointed to, until he meets dead ends and blocked pathsSepherim > care to explain on those things?
Zsaryna Adrelana turns around, so her back is to him, then she pulls up the back of her shirt to show him the white scars criss crossing her back of six month old whip scars "someone else found this shit out... and general mye pinned this stuff on me"
Sepherim raises his eyes from the datapads to the scars and nods, returning his look to the numbers
Sepherim > I see
Sepherim > you took the fall, your name disgraced, and you turned into the scapegoat?
Zsaryna Adrelana nods "I was already with Stillwater by that time, so it was my word against the word of a still-serving general" Zsaryna replies
Zsaryna Adrelana > "I haven't quite been stripped of my decorations yet"
Sepherim nods
Sepherim > doesn't look good indeed, our words both matter little in the Imperial Navy now
Zsaryna Adrelana nods "I'm a pirate, even if I'm a war hero" Zsaryna grimaces quietly
Sepherim nods
Sepherim > very well, I'll run this through some of my contacts, see what I can dig up
Sepherim > I'll get back to you in a few days
Zsaryna Adrelana > "What about you... I would have thought you're a golden boy within the Imperial Navy at the moment"
Sepherim grins
Sepherim > I was, for a time, then I botched up, saw things, drank too much, became a danger to my own men
Sepherim > in time, I was invited to leave
Sepherim > and you don't say no to such invitations
Sepherim > specially when they're right
Sepherim > so no, far from being a golden boy anymore, just trying to make up for my past mistakes
Zsaryna Adrelana nods quietly "my apologies Sepherim" she bows her head respectfully "And I understand, truly... we all have our share of ghosts after all" she taps an order for a glass of whiskey onto the pad "those offers... they suck but... well I guess we just have to deal with it"
Sepherim > you don't have to be sorry, my mistakes are part of who I am as much as my successes
Sepherim > learn from them, grow, become stronger... or die
Sepherim shrugs, placing his datapad into his jacket and returning to his drink
Sepherim > question is, why did your orders make you doubt the institution, the Empire... and not the man?
Zsaryna Adrelana shrugs "Because it wouldn't surprise me that the Empire would order such things done" Zsaryna replies "even before I came under his command I was doing questionable things... also part of my officer training involved writing a paper on the use of force upon civilian targets, part of that meant going through the archives of prior black ops missions"
Sepherim nods
Sepherim > you looked into the abyss, and couldn't hold him staring back
Sepherim > something I can understand indeed
Zsaryna Adrelana shrugs "it is what it is" Zsaryna replies as her whiskey arrives, she promptly knocks it back and kills it in one "But then we're here now I guess, none of us are dead for now"

Recording stopped.

Personal Diary: May 6th, year 115

Birthdays make me grumpy. They always do. It's not a matter of getting old, just brings out the idea of doors being shut, paths that won't be taken, things missed. Another year has become solid, stagnant, and it's potential marvels are gone. And I'm still human, still the same ghost-ridden person, even if I fly a pod and just a year ago I was a monk. I'm still me.

To worsen yesterday's birthday, today is PIE's which has just reached its first decade. So birthdays, years going back and forth, and such seems to be wherever I look. I can't escape it. So, no surprise I'm grumpy today.

But a strange thing happened at the end of the day. Zsaryna Adrelana apologized for our fight a few days ago, and offered to share intel on the matter. I'll copy the logs later on. But it's strange, in a sense, we've both walked a very similair path: service to the Empire in the Navy, until we both got burned out. And yet, the outcomes are completely different: while I understand the blame is on me and my own failures, she decided the blame was not on her and her officers but with the Empire in general. Thus, my loyalty never dicreased, and hers vanished.

In a way, it's like looking to the mirror and seeing what could have happened if the choices had been different. Like a quick peek into what those closed doors of years past could have held. Disturbing, interesting, strange...

Personal Diary: May 2nd, year 115

Today we had the second flight for new PIE pilots into the Bleak Lands, but as far as the school fleet goes, it wasn't a success. Yet, Uriel Arcondus and I got together and gathered a fleet and went out fighting in the Bleak Lands, which is nice. I also did my second interview of a prospect to join PIE, we'll see how that went.

But the important thing was that I met two legends among capsuleers and PIE specifically. Cardinal Graelyn and Admiral Gaven Lok'ri joined us, and it was a pleasure and a honor to fly by their side. Brief, that must be admitted, but great. Seeing examples such as them still flying and pressing on... it's inspirational. We may be slowly pushing the Minmatarr out of the corner they put us in, but it's men like them that make all the losses not count. Soon we will recover what is owed to the Empire.

Later edit: in tonight's report, Admiral Newelle has promoted me to Liuteneant! There's much work to be done, but this is a sign that I'm on the right path. New responsabilities, new tasks, but I'll endure, for the good of the Empire and PIE, now I have to make myself worthy of this new rank!

Personal Diary: April 24th, year 115

Today is a grim day. Even after the surgery really improved my compatibility with the pod implants again, today they failed me. And I was supposed to be leading a squad in the Bleak Lands, to teach the new members of PIE the ropes of Faction Warfare. I guess it'll have to be postponed, I can't FC like this, not without getting everybody killed.

Which is increasingly easy. I died today, my second time, and I don't get used to it. My new clone feels... strange, unconfortable, and I'm uneasy inside of it. Like a suit that is not quite exactly the appropriate size. Not to mention the crew of the destroyer I was flying, several of them didn't make it in time to the escape pods. I'll have to compensate the families, somehow.

But I'm afraid, as things stand, that won't be the last time I walk that path. The Bleak Lands have almost fallen into Minmatarr hands. Saikamon will probably fall tonight, and then only Sahtogas will be left. Sahtogas, HQ of the Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris, won't be able to resist long under the pressure of an enemy that outnumbers us and outguns us by so much. Specially after the tensions and problems that have sent several important corporations of our side into disarray or, even, into the enemy side.

A grim day indeed. But, as things stand, I don't think we've reached the darkest hour yet. We better brace for the storm that's coming our way.

Ship Log: Memories of Diplomacy

The Summit, recording started
Date: april 22nd, year 115
Pilots present: too many to list.

Sepherim > as for good war stories, it would depend on what you consider good
Silas Vitalia > Maybe we can discuss it further in the future. I'm curious how low you got before reaching where you are at now.  And if your current position is upwards or downwards, perhaps. We'll see.
Silas Vitalia > Time to be off. Sleep tight, heathens.
Sepherim > I'm not ashamed of my past failings, so feel free to ask
Rhiannon Dellacorte > Bye
Vlad Cetes > I'm not a heathen
Narcisa De Fontaine > How am I going to know that unless you tell me? Come on, you must have one you know is good.
Uriel Khaden > "There is nothing to be ashamed of if we learn from our failings."
Rhiannon Dellacorte > Me either. I'm a heretic.
Sepherim nods to Uriel
Adreena Madeveda > Captain Sepherim, do you have one where you fraternize with an ennemy and it makes it harder to fight him ? I like those ones.
Sepherim > stories are long, I'm not sure it would be appropriate to monopolize the channel for such an amount of time
Sepherim nods
Sepherim > you know I do, captain Madeveda
Sepherim grins
Adreena Madeveda chuckles > I should have seen that one coming, I guess.
Sepherim > but yes, I do have some, from before I met you
Sepherim > very well, since no one said anything against it, I'll tell a story
Adreena Madeveda > And I hope the silence is the eagerness of the attendance to hear it.
Sepherim smiles
Sepherim > it was back during the second attempt of the Defiants to take over the Bleak Lands
Sepherim > I had already fought them before and had already grown to respect them as capable and honorable warriors, even if I didn't agree with them
Sepherim > but our interactions were somewhat limited
Sepherim > but as one of the main officers in the Navy Intelligence assigned to that area, that was about to change
Sepherim > you see, after the first weeks of combat had followed, and many capsuleer organizations had been mobilized to aid both sides in the war
Sepherim > it soon became clear that neither side would get a quick victory, but it'd be a painful and long one
Sepherim > so an attempt was made to meet and start debating a solution to the conflict
Sepherim > of course, an unofficial and unsanctioned one, but such is often the nature of the Intelligence efforts
Premier Sovian > I can do this quicker! "There were some big corps and they went and took space. Then they decided that taking more space was a pain in the balls so they agreed to not fight each other and thus all became friends. They also all became really bored"
Premier Sovian > And so they do stuff like this, which isn't really allievating the boredom much but hey. It's something.
Adreena Madeveda > Shut up, Premier.
Sepherim > hmm, no, I don't think that's how it was, captain Sovian. Unfortunately, no peace was reached in the end
Premier Sovian > Trundle on then
Sepherim > well, meeting was to be had in Auga. Officially, though it was lowsec, it was out of the war theater
Sepherim > I must admit I was relatively nervous, as I had never been a part of a diplomatical group before, even if I went as security enforcer. And I hadn't yet been out of the Empire, so it would be a complex mission
Sepherim > but there we went, me and one of the squads under my command, right into Auga
Sepherim > Moon 10 around planet 5, Joint Harvesting Refinery. I'll never forget that place
Sepherim > it was strange in look, in smell, in organization. No gold to be seen anywhere, nor any of the usual signs and emblems so present in the Empire
Sepherim > and so full of Matari, that looked at us with interest and some suspicion, but less than I'd expect, I guess now that they were used to seeing Ni-Kunni merchants
Sepherim > there were scheduled four rounds of negotiation, to be held in public places like bars so no attention was drawn to us
Sepherim > afterall, our group was formed of four men, as most of my squad would remain in the docks near their ships in case they were needed, and the Minmatarr party was of similair size
Sepherim > the first round went by, and then the second. Tension was high, and trust was hard to find to say the least
Sepherim > the representants the Minmatarr sent weren't sure they were willing to negotiate the Defiant's retreat, nor were we willing to retreat from the Bleak, so it was all headed to an empty stalemate
Sepherim > it was on the third attempt, in the Gray Owl Bar, downtown in the station, that events took the unexpected turn you asked for, captain Madeveda
Sepherim > we had been discussing for two hours, with no points advanced and no solutions found, when the party of eight Brutor came in, straight towards us
Sepherim > they made claims that we were an offence to the memory of the Defiant's leader, that the Minmatarr would never negotiate or stand down from the freeing of their brothers, that it was our end
Sepherim > I was not a pod pilot back then, and I was afraid
Sepherim > for only fools aren't afraid in the face of danger
Sepherim > so they jumped on us after they made their claims. I stood up to fight them, knowing that I wasn't so good at hand-to-hand combat as these eight men were and that my own men were too far
Sepherim > but I stood, nonetheless, just to give time for the diplomats to flee
Sepherim > and yet, I saw that the other diplomatic party had started to surround my own proteges, and twelve to one was a lose-lose situation
Sepherim > when all seemed settled, a soft voice was hear behind me, the kind of voice that can be soft because it is used to being obeyed
Sepherim > "stand down, brothers, we shall not kill those that have come to talk. We are not barbarians, and we will not dishonor our tribes by doing so"
Sepherim > I turned, surprised, and saw it was an elder man, dressed like a common worker, who I had seen on the bar on all the occasions
Sepherim > without hesitating, nor saying anything, the eight men stood down, and then I noticed the other four had stood around my own proteges not to threaten them, but to act as shields
Sepherim > I was humbled that day, and I still recall that time with respect, for rarely is honor such seen among enemies
Sepherim grows silent for a moment, a distant smile on his lips

Recording ended

Damocle's Sword

Betrayed. That's how I felt. Betrayed by my own brain, who had started to eat itself. And the doctor's tranquil grin made it no easier to shake the feeling.

-Hedion University is at the head of research into Kasioper's Syndrome right now thanks to the sponsorship of some very wealthy pod pilots that are affected by it. But you have to understand, it's a very rare disease, and thus investigation is progressing slowly.-

Yes, I understood that, even before speaking to him. We all know what Kasioper is: the boogeyman, the monster under the bed, the end of all hope. Every person that became a pod pilot after age 30 had a small percentage of possibilities to be affected by it. Maybe one in a thousand, maybe less. And I had been the one to draw the long straw.

So, my brain wasn't flexible enough to withstand the changes that the pod pilot interface implied. I was compatible with the pod, and yet, each day a little bit less, as the brain started to reject the implants and brain connections that made possible the direct link to the ship. It had decided it didn't want to speak to the massive metal monsters. And the degenerative disease will only spread, like a cancer wanting to steal everything away.

And who was I to complain? What did my hopes, plans and dreams matter? Nothing! Hell be raised, it all meant nothing now that the brain had headed into lockdown. And if I forced it beyond the point of no return, the wet grave would be my reward.

I looked down at my hands, trembling slightly. No, Kasioper's Syndrome has no physical effects, this was pure rage and impotence racing through my veins, impossible to withhold. There was so much to do! So many things to take care of, people to see, battles to fight! This was the end of everything! The fucking, damned end. Period.

-The Syndrome isn't quick- the doctor was saying, noticing my tension-. It could take a month, or a year, or maybe a dozen years or more for it to be definitive. In the meantime, we go on researching, investigating, advancing on our knowledge of it. We might find a cure before it is too late! And there are already some experimental neurological surgeries with nanites that reactivate the connections between neurons and strengthen the link with the pod again. Their effects fade away with time, but meanwhile you will be perfectly functional.-

He said it with a positive tone, trying to cheer me up and give me strength, but all I could think of was that it was ended. I would be flying on borrowed time now, with the reaper's scymtar above my head in case I pushed my luck beyond the point of no return. Damocle's Sword was swinging, waiting, like a cat playing with a mouse that knows can't escape his paws. And I was the fucking mouse, I that was a titan among the stars!

The wet grave. Its image burst into my mind, the voice of all horrors and terrors all pod pilots must face. The final test to endure before becoming one with a ship. I couldn't help but remember Adriniel Varshov, another student when I was in training, who had fell into the definitive comma that failing the test implied. And I... I was heading there now, slowly, one step each day, one breath at a time... closer and closer to my end.

I got up with a strong move and headed towards the door. I could hear the doctor calling out my name behind me, but I didn't care. If I was living on borrowed time, if my end was fated and the timer was running, I'd better use my time to the fullest. There were battles to fight, people to see, things to take care of. There was a brief life to live before it was too late.

I could feel the fear calling out my name from the back of my skull, asking me to stop in freezed panic. But I wouldn't listen. I had gone into battle before being a pod pilot, knowing it could have been my last, and hadn't panicked then. I would certainly not do it now! I might have been betrayed by my mind, but as long as my timer allows me, I'll be atoning for my mistakes and fulfilling my duty.

There is no other possible path for me.