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Sleeping Awake
part 1

Dramis Murusaki leant back in his chair letting out a deep sigh that hung in the air for a few seconds before dissipating into the ambient noise. He looked up and glanced briefly at the clock that sat on the wall in front of him, not really paying attention to the exact numbers; it had reached that point in the day where such things had become rather trivial. For a minute or so he paused and stared intensely into space with a completely empty mind. To an on looker at this moment it may have looked as though the man was sleeping with his eyes open or engrossed in the intricate pattern of the rust coloured sheet of steel that was the wall. His eyelids started to fitter rapidly for a few seconds almost violently at which point Dramis snapped out of it, he felt slightly rejuvenated and looked around it seemed no one had noticed his odd practice. He stood up and walked over to the bar a grabbed two glasses of Caldari 12 year old whisky, still the finest beverage that he could envisage in all the universe. He knocked one of the glasses back in earnest and took the other with him back to his table, tossing a few credits over his shoulder towards the bar, they spun elegantly through the air, falling onto a small silver tray that had been left for just such payments, leaving a short ringing sound before they became motionless and inanimate again. Dramis took a seat again at his favourite spot in the bar, (against the wall with a full view of the bar especially its entrance, and directly opposite the massive window that was the focal point of the bar) he never liked the idea of people sneaking up on him, so his choice of seat was of a tactical nature, it also meant he could greet any friends that might arrive. He sat on the large padded bench seat, holding his posture and cradling his glass of whisky in one hand gazing at the deep amber colour and spiraling patterns that appeared as the ice started to blend with the whisky. His attention started to drift from the icey glass and off into his thoughts...

"Whats that Sir? You want me to do what?" Dramis Turned away from his control console to look at his commanding officer, who stood tall (without trying) dressed in a black uniform. "You heard me son you deaf or something" boomed the stern officer, Dramis Scanned the Target ship again, "Sir they are unarmed" Replied Dramis. The officer in the black uniform sighed and then Reiterated the order "This is War son, they Don't have the Right papers to be in our space, for all you know they are shipping armaments for the enemy." That was enough for Dramis, he hit the button. The image of the exploding Hauler etched itself into his mind.

...Dramis looked up from the glass, to see his neocom flashing, he picked it up and scanned the message, he tossed the Icey whisky back and stood up, brushing himself down as he started for the door...

Sleeping Awake
Part 2

&Dramis stopped for a second to grab his sword (something he was rarely seen without) and his side arm, he effortlessly glided the sword into its scabbard catching the light with it causing the blades fuller to glint briefly before it was properly sheathed. He calmly disappeared out of the bar and down the corridor, walking tall and with an air of dignity. His appearance always made him stand out around these parts like a shining credit in a patch of dirt; however he never felt the urge to change his appearance or mannerisms, even though he knew they made him appear to have a superiority complex or to put it more bluntly as though he was completely stuck up. Some had put it down to his time in the Caldari navy, but even by their high standards Dramis had appeared to stand higher than others and take more pride in his appearance. He strode down empty access strip with purpose in every step heading towards his vessel in the stations docking facilities, as he moved he considered the message he had just received, and began to think it wasn't as important as it had sounded they never were.

Dramis turned an abrupt corner which led him right to the platform that stood above his Kestrel class frigate, he examined the glowing purple console in front of him and squinted at it in confusion as his face began to contort, "thats not right" he thought to himself and hit the options to change the display to a more pleasing blue colour. Dramis studied the console for a few seconds checking that all weapon systems and defences were online and that there was an ample supply of ammo, once he was satisfied he ordered the pod and stepped off the ledge into a tube on his right where the machinery kicked in constructing the pod around him and plugging him into the relevant systems and filling rapidly with gel. The transition to him appeared almost instantly, his vision had extended now as he linked to a camera drone and he could feel everything around him with mechanical precision as sensors replaced nerves, his Body sat suspended in gel but this had no effect on him as the pod replaced it and he became what in his mind could only be described as omnipotent. The pods computer system scanned his neural patterns for Identity conformation and then the female voice of the system began "Greetings Ackercoke, all systems nominal"
He responded rashly "off" and the computer went silent.

That voice had always bugged him even before he was a licensed pod pilot in the days after he'd left the service of the navy and had began his initial pre pod training at the Science and Trade institute. Few people knew the reasons behind Dramis's decision to obtain his licence from there, especially considering the navy had offered him a position as a pod pilot in their ranks. This had had very little appeal to him at the time though as he felt that it was essentially the same as renewing his service to the Navy, if for no other reason other than to honour the debt he would have felt he owed them. He had always respected the navy and even loved it, it was a place where he felt almost special as a guardian of the people and he'd learnt a lot there. He'd attended the institutes pod school for no other reason than to get his licence, with every intention of returning to his beloved navy as a free lance pod pilot. He didn't require lessons in tactics or weapons and manoeuvring this would have just hindered him slowed him down; he knew how ships worked well enough already.

The pod was now in the kestrel locked in position towards the front of the ship, peering out of the birds steel neck like an iron beak. He was ready to undock and scanned the inbound gate logs for the system to see who was shacked up here with him, well it wouldn't do to undock into a maelstrom and lose the ship in an instant, it was clear and Dramis proceeded to undock, setting course for Gelfiven....