Podded

This little aside happened very recently. I am telling this story as recollection, rather than record.

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I am sat alone at a bar. I am drowning myself in some drink the Brutor's seem to favour. I am test driving my new liver, and it seems to be holding up pretty well. I'm three drinks deep, and Ikai joins me. I should point out I'm bald, basically hairless and looking even more capsuleer-like than usual.

Ikai sits besides me at the bar. He orders some cheap drink or another, I'm not really paying attention, and he pipes up.

"So this is what it looks like then."

"A clone," I reply, "Yep, this is the glorious combination of cloning and the pod. I'm alive, apparently. At least that's what the burning sensation in my throat is telling me. This drink is fucking awful."

"So why all alone? Not like you to be without your corporation mates. Y'know, the ones you haven't introduced me to yet." Ikai looks at me playfully, something I'm blatantly not in the mood for.

"We're not in the habit of knowing our crews, let alone introducing them to one another. It gets very, complicated."

He's a bright guy, Ikai, he really is, and he sees through me straight away.

"What because you might get us killed?" He retorts hotly. "Don't you think we know that already?"

"Of course you do. But in the event of your death, you don't have to relive that moment each night." This really pisses him off, evidently. Not that I can say I blame him.

"Oh for fucks sakes Und, feeling sorry for yourself is not your style. We know the risks. Fuck knows I've held together more than one ship by the bare nuts and bolts of the hull. You definitely ain't the worst out there. You're alive, man. Hell you cheated death! Not many can say that."

I smile half-heartedly at my Deteis friend. "I still don't understand how you can deal with all the death. And smile, fuck's sake."

He grins at me. "If you don't spend your entire time feeling sorry for yourself, you realise it could be much worse. I could've stayed on New Caldari, or stayed with the Guristas, and I wouldn't have as much fun, nor be as comfortable as a I am now. Nor able to afford the good stuff." He orders a drink from the bar keep, something mid-price this time, as though it's some vast display of ostentation.

This time I laugh out loud. "How is it you always manage to make me laugh?"

"I'm just awesome like that," he replies with a wink, "Oh, you know you're paying right?"