Distant Relatives

((this is not public knowledge, so IC unless you RP with Lara to find it out you don't know it etc etc))

08.10.YC114

Lara,

Congratulations on your advancement. I have followed your progress ever since word reached me about your Voluval. I have high hopes and every confidence that you will fulfill them and perhaps even surpass them. Our family has not had many like us in recent generations, and while we are but distantly related, we are very similar, you and I.

But enough of that. Check your wallet and you will find a small contribution to get you started. Spend it wisely and it will last you some time. Should you come into a need of more, worry not, I will get some to you. Know that I will be watching over you. Do not feel unsettled by it; I have your best interests in mind. You may note station crew who seem to recognize you from time to time - these are most likely my agents. Know that they will ensure your safety when you are out of the pod.

I am sure this letter leaves you with more questions than answers, but it will have to suffice for now. Go learn, Lara. Train. Absorb the knowledge of more veteran pilots and come to understand combat. I will see to it that isk is not a problem for you. It is up to you to see to your training.

Never forget your Thukker roots Lara. I will be in touch.


Lara grew restless, pacing her sparse quarters. She'd not stayed long anywhere her entire life, and basing out of the TLF station in Abudban for 5 months was more than she could bear. She'd made some incursions into contested lowsec, dodging pirates and Amarrians alike on her way to run some ridiculous errand or another for an insufferable agent of the TLF, a bald Brutor bitch with a nearly unpronounceable name. Besides that, a few trips to Rens and some shopping.

Not exactly the lifestyle she'd expected. The military school hadn't prepared her appropriately. What the fuck kind of school graduates you into utter uselessness? They fling you out there with some official-looking paperwork and a referral to the militia, and fail to inform you that you'll be utterly useless in space for months if you hope to fly with or against other pod pilots.

She kicked an empty can of Quafe, the cacophonous sound of it rattling across the metal floor of the Minmatar station and interrupting her annoyance briefly. It skittered to a halt next to a small chest wherein she kept a small stash of personal items. The odd hallucinogenic, some documentation, a journal. And the letter.

The letter. She walked over to the chest, opening it with a press of her thumb, and rifled to the bottom, finding the envelope. It was a curious thing. She had found it waiting for her on her pillow upon arriving in her captain's quarters in Ammold the day she graduated to the status of capsuleer. She had read it over and over, and could nearly recite it from memory.

There was no signature. No indication of who her mysterious, if somewhat unsettling benefactor may be. All she knew was that nearly a billion isk had been anonymously wired into her account, and over the coming days station crew members here and there did in fact wink, nod, or offer a quiet greeting when no one was around. She had eventually cornered one, a Sebiestor by the name of Rak, but he was unable or unwilling to answer any useful questions, despite showing her unnerving respect. He was, however, quite willing to provide her with various boosters, so she tapped into that and was sure to tip him generously in the hope that she might eventually garner some answers.