I’ve been out of the capsule for too long. My body aches. I feel as though I cannot get used to sitting in chairs. Standing erect. Walking about.
Last night, I returned to the capsule. Revelled in the beauty of space. Relaxed in the illusion weightlessness.
Comms buzz in the background. My corpmates asking how I’ve been. I tell them the truth.
Not my best, I say, but I am alive. In time, I should recover.
I’m trying not to complain, but I know that I fail.
I’m considering saying my good nights, when an alert rolls across my screen. A request for support from our allies. Torpedo bombers. I have a few. I switch channels, jump into a ship named DNSBLACK’s Hound, undock and warp directly toward friendly territory.
When I land, there is a friendly Vexor on the gate. I jump. Mostly blue system. A neutral Sleipner lands on the gate. He jumps out while I am still under gate cloak.
I report my findings to the FC. There is laughter in comms. I smile and warp to Miss Teri and make sure I am in range of the Black Ops battleship that the fleet is staged around.
We wait. The Sleipner pilot engages the Vexor. The Vexor pilot lights the cyno.
The bridge opens but I am slow. 5 pilots vanish almost as one. Then I find myself back in my home system. Sleipner is moving away, but he is pointed.
Lock. Approach. Engage propulsion module. Apply EWAR. Shoot.
I cloak up and set an orbit about the Vexor. Inside of torpedo range, of course. We wait. The cyno shuts down.
Mutual thanks are offered and accepted. I’ve got to go to bed, I say. We chat a minute about the perils of getting old. I smile. Some of the ones complaining are younger than me.
I warp to station and dock up, switch back to comms with my brothers. Tell them to put a fork in me, I’m done. The body is still sore.
Some is fun held at my expense. Something about getting old and wearing girdles?
You knew that was coming.
I laugh and say my farewells. I am gone for the night.
But just for the night.