A Chance Encounter

“Jeehiro, what the fuck are you doing?”

Aphoxema slowly looked up from her work and slowly turned to face the flight manager, “What’d I do now?”

Rheze pointed at her with his datapad, “You’re always screwing off! You think being Minmatar here makes you special?”

She shook her head and stared blankly, “That don’t help me do what’e’re it is you want me doing.”

Rheze jabbed Aphoxema’s chest with his finger, keeping it pointed after she recoiled, “There was a scramble order fifteen minutes ago, good for you it was cancelled or your face would be painting this floor now!”

Still cradling her sternum, she stared in confusion, “They didn’t need a interceptor, they wan’ed damage support.”

“You have your piece-of-shit Rupture and there’s a dozen Omens you could have taken. You know what? I don’t care about this time, I’m pissed because you always pull this shit, then you act self-entitled and your punk ass comes strutting around here like you’re something better than what you are.”

“Better than what I am? Look, I can’t help being what I’as born, yeah? I’m here to serve, and that’s what I do. The only reason you’ve gotten away with treatin’ me like this is ‘cause I don’t complain, but I’m gonna if you don’t chill out right now.”

Rheze threw his hands up, stepping back, “Oh, I’m sorry for offending you, pilot. You might as well start packing, I’ve been lenient but after this I’m telling your supervisor. Lazy and stupid, you people all are, it takes a beating to set you straight.”

Aphoxema sighed, looking away. This attitude wasn’t condoned by Ubiqua Seraph, but racism was an issue she had to deal with in both subtle and overt ways, regardless of rules against it. She knew that the scramble order included her, but every time those orders involved Minmatar freedom-fighters she felt some hesitation.

She hadn’t told anyone yet, that she had just murdered a holder, that she had been so messed up on Drop that she thought God was talking to her, had told her to fly a ship into a star. She wasn’t even sure it happened, getting podded made for vague memory, maybe it was just a dream, maybe it all happened differently.

Another scramble alert sounded. Aphoxema checked the report, another terrorist attack some far ways off. She spotted the piercing eyes of Rheze and grumbled to herself, walking quickly to her pod bay. Another alert played, but the klaxon for it was different, one she hadn’t heard before.

She barely looked to her datapad again to hear small-arms fire echo down the hallway and an explosion rock her surroundings. An actual attack on the station? But, there was so much security, weapon and explosive detectors, and surely anyone who would want to do the Ubiqua Seraph PMC harm wouldn’t be able to dock in their hangers.

As much as she couldn’t believe it, the screaming of the frightened and the barking orders of the furious fought for attention between bursts of gunfire. She stared at the noise, frozen in confusion, balancing fear with discipline. The emotions took a vote and discipline won by threatening to murder every emotion that didn’t vote for it.

Aphoxema shakily unholstered her laser pistol and crouched behind an ammunition pallet. She knew that the tiny power source wouldn’t enable her to cause much damage or get very many shots, but she was thoroughly convinced that the tiny weapon of her own design could cause enough surprise and pain to give her a chance to escape. Of course, she wasn’t so certain that she wouldn’t pick up something more reliable if she had the chance.

The gunfire dropped in frequency and for a moment stopped altogether. Aphoxema’s hopes that the incursion was over ended when bold shouting in Matari language ordered to check the next partition of the hangar array.

These hangars had just opened up a few days ago when another corporation moved out of the station. Only a small part of Ubiqua Seraph had been moved, for the most part consisting of her own and Marie’s assets. Her relationship with Marie came to a rough end and still being grouped with her had caused her more frustration. Either way, there wasn’t much security and few other personnel.

She desperately weighted options in her mind; She stood no chance in fighting. She could get into her capsule and either wait it out or force a brain scan, but for all she knew this was a systematic attack and the Ubiqua Seraph cloning facility was compromised. What came to her was the realization was they were either her for her, to liberate slaves, or to kill members of the corporation.

Aphoxema quickly took her blouse off, the insignia would be an undeniable sign of who she supported and that she was more than a crew member. She stuffed it between a few of the stacked shells on the pallet, then stared down at herself and thought hard what she could wear or what excuse she could have for wearing slacks and a bra. Her eyes caught sight of a tool harness laid on a crate nearby.

The sounds of heavy footsteps came closer, now was the only time she could do something and anything she did would have to be a gamble. She quickly pulled off her bra and hid it with the blouse before grabbing the harness off the crate to hold over her chest. She took a breath and steeled herself before ramming her fingers into her eyes.

Backing up against the ammunition pallet, tears falling from her swelling eyes, she held up the harness to feign herself protecting her dignity. The footsteps came closer, soon accompanying a tall, sturdy Brutor man, carrying a rifle as big as her. She knew either she would escape this way or die in a way she deserve. That she deserved?

She stood silently, coaxing herself to shiver fearfully. It hadn’t demanded much effort, the cold, blowing air of the hangar and the genuine reason to be afraid did much of the shaking for her.

Another two came up behind, glancing over at her before looking around to cover their surroundings. The first slowly walked to her, staring her down, intimidating every part of her will. He took the harness from her, his eyes still fixed on hers, revealing one arm covering her chest and the other holding her laser pistol.

She took the real gamble and slowly held the laser pistol up, aiming for his face, her crying becoming more desperate and the pouting less voluntary. Another raised his rifle at her, the silence between them all making her bawling more obvious.

The tall Brutor she held her weapon to calmly reached up to take it from her before handing the tool vest back. He spoke in sincere, sedating Amarrish, “You’re free now, Sister.”

He stared a moment longer before walking off, directing the others to check the hangar again for anyone else. She heard a few more gunshots, then watched them all march off in the direction they came.

She didn’t know how much time passed before she shook herself back to reality. Everything that had just happened swirled around her, she dropped the vest to the floor and held onto the tips of the projectiles pointed behind her to keep from collapsing. After a few deep breaths, she pulled herself together enough to take her clothing back out from its hiding place.

She put her bra back on without hesitation, but paused at the blouse. She held it up and stared at it with her burning eyes. Each moment she stared at the Ubiqua Seraph logo, all over again she was reminded of it. Each second, guilt struck her all over. She joined because Marie wanted to, then she stayed because she believed in a duty to God.

What she was defending now, it wasn’t right. None of this was right. People were forced into slavery for the purpose of their holders serving God. People were killed to serve God. She had been killing and capturing to please her superiors, to please God, but now... for the first time in her life, God was wrong.

She stared, suddenly disgusted with herself, dropping the shirt and watching it fall to the ground. She had nearly died, spared by the kind of person she had been murdering.

Aphoxema picked the tool vest back up, shook the heavy tools out of it and put it on, zipping it up. Rubbing her head, she realized with a start that a dozen people had just died around her. “Rheze!”

She ran back to Foreman Rheze’s station, exhaling painfully at the sight of him lying, bleeding from several shots to the chest, holding a pry bar he never had the chance to defend himself with. She stared, her heart dropping for one of the many times now, her shoulders falling slack in her powerlessness, “Rheze...”

Rheze slowly opened an eye to her winded cry, mumbling, “Ahhh... phox...”

Aphoxema jumped and quickly dropped to his side, “I... I... I’ll get help...”

He smiled tiredly and sputtered, “Did you set this up?”

“No! No...”

Rheze barely nodded, “You’re the only slave I ever liked.”

Aphoxema tried to shake her head, “I’m not a...”

Rheze slowly fell limp, exhaling a painful croak.

“... not a slave... I just wanted to do this...”

She slowly dropped back, sitting and staring, not even noticing security running in to investigate.

“It’s a little too convenient that after a terrorist attack, the Amarr-sympathizer who happens to supposedly be a traitor to the Republic is the only one left alive.”

Aphoxema stared severely toward the Amarr Navy investigator. Her property had been impounded, she had been arrested and no one would tell her exactly what was going on. “I did not help organize that attack.”

“Such a prominent person as you, betraying your own blood to help in The Reclaiming. After supporting terrorists...”

Aphoxema pointed as best she was able in shackles and shouted, “Different terrorists!”

Chief Investigator Maven slammed his hands against the table in front of her, “Star Fraction are supporters of the rebel Minmatar! And I’m the one who does the fucking yelling around here!”

Aphoxema cringed back, softening her voice, “Yes, Sir, I just... I really had no part in this...”

“Then why are you alive right now?”

Aphoxema shook, “I... because...”

“Becauuuuuse?”

“I think they thought... that I was a slave...”

“And why would they think that?”

She hesitated, but answered honestly, “I... I took off my uniform...”

Maven stared, repulsed, “You sicken me. You snivelling coward, you don’t deserve to serve the Amarr!” He grabbed Aphoxema by the collar, slapping her across the face, “You piece of shit! If you weren’t a capsuleer I would pull your head off with my hands!”

Aphoxema wailed, shaking in fear, crying her words, “I didn’t want to die!”

Maven pushed her back into the chair, walking behind her and setting his hands on her shoulders roughly, “Maybe you should tell me about your new body, here, your God-damned fake body, the one you popped in yesterday after mysteriously abandoning a battlecruiser that had warped straight into a star...”

Aphoxema trembled, bawling again, “That didn’t happen... that was a dream...”

He moved his hands to her neck, slowly squeezing, “It happened... and when you flew off, leaving that ship there, those people on there died.”

Aphoxema coughed at the grip, trying to pull away, “Stop...”

“They died of radiation poisoning, after they saved the ship, but one of them... a very respectable holder who used to be really happy with you, he transferred to a clone. He committed such sacrilege because he wanted to say hi...”

She tried to pull, Maven’s grip just shy of throttling her entirely, “I...”

Maven grinned, speaking loudly in her ear, “And you get to live for now, because he’s on his way here, and we’re giving you to him.”

Aphoxema gasped as he released her, flailing in her shackles desperately, “I didn’t want to do it! I didn’t mean to!”

Maven walked out, watching back at her with cold eyes as he carefully closed the door, “God is ready to hear your apology, say it while you can.”

Aphoxema marched along with her escort, expressionless and hopeless. She was reasonably certain this was the worst day of her life, though some strangely comforting thoughts played repeatedly through her mind.

I’ve betrayed my people, there’s no way back. I hope God will understand, but I don’t deserve forgiveness. Ben... I’m so sorry for doing what I did to you, you’ve done so much for me. I should have told you I was on Drop, that I wasn’t thinking straight, you trusted me, you loved me but all I could do for you was betray you too.

I betrayed my blood, I betrayed my friends. God will have a special punishment for me.

The lift stopped, and the marine escorting her undid her handcuffs, “Get out of her.”

Aphoxema turned, staring with swollen eyes in disbelief, “What?”

The marine stood bravely and saluted her, “You have been released by order of Aegis Militia.”

She kept staring, confused and exhausted, “But... aren’I being charged by the Navy?”

He grimaced, “That’s why they should have had the Imperial Navy bring you. I don’t know what happened, but I have my orders and I don’t want to have to be the one bringing you back when they change. I’ll give you five minutes before I radio that you’ve escaped.”

Aphoxema took a breath and returned the salute, “If you’re the one who catches me, please shoot me dead.” She walked off the lift, working herself into a run, sprinting away as the lift continued to descend.

Nothing was clear after that, the corridors, the taxi to the other side of the station, rushing passed hanger after hanger. She couldn’t take her own ships, she’d get caught trying to buy a new one, and staying on this station or even in Amarr space was too much of a risk. She needed a place to hide and think that was leaving for foreign space. Someone passing through wouldn’t have a secure hanger, a courier would take whatever cargo they were paid to ship. She just needed to find a shipping container and pray that it wouldn’t be exposed to vacuum.

“Yeah, I still think the last Quafe girl was hotter, lot less of a... I don’t know, this new girl, her voice just kills me.”

“You’re kidding me! It’s that voice that got her in that musical...”

Aphoxema waited in a shadow impatiently for crewmen to move on. She needed to find a place she could sleep, worn to near-madness by recent events. Getting caught as a stowaway on a transport ship was risky as the crew could rightfully shoot her on sight, or turn her into police forces. Either way, she preferred for it to happen outside of Amarr space.

“You don’t even like musicals.”

“Hey, I don’t have to like them to know a good singer.”

“That’s it, though, it’s like she’s singing all the time. She’s so nasally, makes my ears bleed.”

“She is not nasally, and she’s a damned good actress. You see that one movie?”

Aphoxema gritted her teeth, hunger and exhaustion magnified her frustration.

“The one where she’s the whore?”

“No, the... yeah, it’s not like they made a big deal about it.”

“I’m not saying they did, it’s just the only thing I remember from that movie. Oh, hey, we need to get ready to ship out.”

They walked off, still talking. Aphoxema glanced around the corner and moved on into the galley. She opened a cupboard and picked through it, looking for something ready to eat, or close enough for her to not care.

Unable to find anything to satisfy her she moved to the walk-in refrigerator. Barely opening the door, her heart leaped at the sound of the footsteps and voices returning.

“Come on, I like girls, too.”

“I’m just saying, it’s okay if you like musicals.”

“Because I went on one date with Ral? It wasn’t even a date, it was a Mind Clash game.”

“You totally swapped wrenches.”

“Why do you say that? It doesn’t even make... no, we didn’t do anything. How does that mean I should like musicals?”

“I’m just saying.”

“Just saying what?”

Aphoxema took a breath, stepping inside the refrigerator and carefully closing the door. The cool air was a sort of relief, but the dark didn’t do anything to ease her and the light switch was on the outside. The muffled voices grew a little louder.

“It’s okay to like musicals!”

“You just said you didn’t like musicals.”

“It’s okay to not like them, too. I’m just saying.”

Aphoxema wobbled, the condensation on the dark walls offering no support. She could hear her voice shaking, getting louder, fear overwhelming. She found something to hold on to, a rack maybe.

“How did we even get to musicals?”

“I don’t know. Quafe?”

“Yeah, I’ll take one.”

“No, we were talking about the new Quafe girl.”

Suddenly the object Aphoxema had been holding tumbled over, spilling something onto her. She scrambled to find something to hold onto, but the slippery substance fell under her feet. She toppled over, knocking over more pans and spilling more onto herself. Something struck her head, she wailed in agony.

“What the hell was that?”

“Something fell over in the fridge, Bailey must have forgotten to tie things down again...”

“Yeah, the ship didn’t move. Just... here, give me your gun.”

“Heh, get to action. My hero.”

“It wasn’t even a date!”

“That wasn’t a gay-joke, but now that you mention it...”

The light flipped on. Aphoxema took a moment to tell herself goodbye, begging God to have clemency. The door opened, followed by a Gallentean pointing a pistol at her.

He broke into laughter, “Dude, check this out...”

The pair stared down at her, covered in soups and gravies, giggling.