I live three lives.
The first is that of a COGNet Spacesystems Ltd. Capsuleer. COGN is a very small odd-jobs outfit that pays me reasonably well for my services, which is usually on contract from a larger corp. Everything from courier to garrison to pirate-popping. I'm not getting financially rich by any means, but I'm not a greedy man.
The second is a freedom fighter of the Ushra'Khan, of which COGNet is a member. This brings me into direct conflict with slavers among the less secure systems of New Eden. We find and kill them with extreme prejudice. We force them to stop inflicting suffering upon others, either through lethal or financial tactics. We free the slaves they seek to sell.
The third life often starts where the second one ends. You see, when the slaves are freed, they often are left with nowhere to go and ruined personas. The U'K often takes them in as part of our forces, but I try to help them rebuild themselves as true Minmatar. I help them find peace and purpose at a spiritual level through meditation and learning. I help them find enlightenment when things seem all but lost.
In ancient times, the Prano clan was the centre of the Minmatar's spiritual world. We led our people to a place of inner peace and deeper understanding, beyond the confines of their physical selves. The Amarr took all that away from us. I am the last.
Lately I've been trying to expand my efforts in my third life by traveling throughout the galaxy and seeking out disenfranchised souls. The poor, the ill, the broken. I help them as best I can, and some have begun to seek me out. I make no attempt to hide myself.
A few weeks ago, I decided that the Tribal Liberation Force, a militia created through the efforts of the Elders who trained me, needed to hear what I had to teach. I sent out a message to a prominent officer who would be the least likely to accept my words; the reason being that if I could convince him, others would be more receptive.
Last night, during a meditative session with a destitute Vherokior family I received a communique. Colonel Roc Wieler would hear me out.
the conversation was short and terse, as he made no attempt to hide the fact that he held me in a small amount of suspicion. After we set a time and location, I asked him why he was giving me this chance. he ended the conversation quickly without giving me an answer.
I have a week to prepare myself.
Wet splats in Tower Control (9-8, Tri-slosher)
3 hours ago