"BOMB INCOMING!" she screamed as she jolted awake. "Wait, calm down girl, its just another flashback."
Motoko stepped out of the clone vat and waved at the operators as she headed for the door. An automated shuttle would be waiting to take her to her private quarters.
"Damn that bomber," she muttered briefly, remembering the battle when an overzealous friendly slung a bomb at a Rooks and Kings fleet. Motoko had been in her Firetail trying to spread points. The resulting explosion had hit so close that it destroyed her ship and pod in one go.
"Well time to go home and reship."
Motoko started fiddling on the holoscreen ordering a ship and new modules for her planned return to the Wormhole, she had received intel that there was an opening linking deep behind the borders of Solar Empire space in their renter territory and had planned to hunt miners not paying attention to their scanner.
She went about this monotonous task and started thinking about what had happened a few minutes earlier. It was the worst part of being a Capsuleer, transferring consciousness, the dying part isn't that bad as far as things go, but that short time in between was unsettling. Your ship explodes and your pod gets out and, if you're unlucky enough, someone with an instalock is sitting there to snag you. Your pod gets breached and in that instant your brain is flashed and painlessly killed. Then you are slung at a ridiculous speed through space and wake up a few moments later in a new clone.
Its during that time when you are being slung as a string of data through space that gets you. Sure the operators assure us that we are unable to be aware of the process, but they've never done it. Yeah you aren't aware of the transfer taking place but you are hyper aware of your consciousness. All your memories are taking place at the same time, you are aware of it all, some are more vivid than others and some blur together. Occasionally something happens to you that stands out for a while, usually something that caught you off your guard, losing a ship isn't bad when you are expecting it but being on the winning side then all that changing in an instant, that can mess with your head. It is those memories that don't just play back again when you are transferring, they draw you in, the emotions and adrenaline overtake you and you fully relive it. It can be hell.
The shuttle slowed down causing Motoko a brief surge of paranoia.
"The station engineers must be doing maintenance on the passageways," she reassured herself.
Nothing was quite as nerve wracking as being outside of your pod in a public area. In it you were immortal, but leave the safety of your pod and you leave all the hardware required to transfer your consciousness. To die outside your pod was to die forever.
A few minutes later the shuttle came to a stop and Motoko stepped into the safety of her quarters. She had found all the modules she needed and punched the fit into the docking bay's computer and watched as tractor beams pulled her Nemesis out of storage and Automech arms swapped out the required modules to meet her order. This process takes a while but Motoko was fascinated every time by how the robotic arms danced around each other, never colliding, never missing a bolt or connection never getting anything mixed up. If there was ever a problem with her fit she could always trace it to a mis-selection in her order.
The last thing to go in was the ammo. First two large single round crates holding her bombs. Then, with a smile, she watch three all red crates with green corners denoting navy ammo and a large bronze bird, the logo for The State War Academy. The Gallente may know how to party and make a sleek bomber but no one makes torpedos like the Caldari. This ammo was quite a bit more expensive, but when it comes to a misguided renter trying to use his anti-pirate ship to protect some miners, this ammo would ensure he drops just that much faster.
Motoko stripped down to her podsuit and climbed into her pod pulling the door shut behind her. She flipped a few switches, the door locked, and the pod started filling up with life support fluid. Forcing out all the air in her lungs, she prepared to breathe it in. Man this stuff tastes nasty, you would think they could make it taste better like Quafe or something but no, instead you get a mouthful of something that has the flavor of used grease.
Setting the pod to link in, Motoko assigned her ship a designation, the Paranoia Agent, and opened comms. She immediately receiving a fleet assignment. Good, she would have backup on this roam; Kris and Mike would be coming along in similar bombers.
She set course for the Wormhole.
A short time later she warped on the POS and saw her corp members on the overview.
"This promises to be a good night, ladies, the system maps are returning a lot of in space activity in the target constellations and plenty of non-pat1deaths so we should have some expensive battleships roaming around not expecting much of a fight. Make sure you have plenty of ammo, extra bombs and nanite paste, we have nowhere to dock where we are going. Stay frosty, keep an eye on D, and don't burn out your modules."
"Kristalll, plus one on landing. Destination is in fleet, we are green green up. Fleet align bookmark JJK-106, cloak up and we are cleared for warp. Happy hunting."
1: “non-pat” An unfavorable term used to refer to anyone who is not a capsuleer.