“They say it’s what you make. I say it’s up to fate.
It’s woven in my soul. I need to let you go.” – “Demons”, Imagine Dragons
01.03.yc116 Heimatar Region, Ortner Constellation, Rens System
Immortality… As capsuleers, the theory is, we live forever. Until recently, I hadn’t given it much thought. So far, the process to become a capsuleer, an immortal, happened in the blink of an eye. I remember being prepped at the cloning facility. The attendants smiling and congratulating me for passing the Caldari State War Academy qualification. In order to begin the pilot training your first clone is created with the necessary implants and connections to establish your link to the ship as well as enabling your ability to learn skills much, much faster. It’s odd, at least to me, to become immortal, you have to die. The process of scanning and copying your brain… well… destroys it. I remember being sedated, the cold infusion of medicine into my blood stream causing me to go into a deep slumber, my eyes heavy, breath swallow, thoughts drifting to my family and friends. Then I awoke, blinked, and I was in my new clone body.
I felt the same… yet… different. There are many options available for your clone body, keeping or rather recreating, blemishes and scars, tanning of skin, and so on. You can change any aspect about yourself: hair, eye color, body shape, if you wanted. I had decided to be – me – but without the scars. I did have them create my birthmark. The location of which I’ll not mention here. Wanting to see for myself, I lifted my right hand before my eyes, flexed my fingers and looked, but not finding, the ugly scar where I had broken my index finger as a child and the bone had broken through the skin. Over time, I realized that not only had the scar been removed, but the bones, these new clone bones, had never been broken, so the occasional ache or irritating catch when I bent my finger were entirely gone.
But the definition of “immortal” states: not subject to death or decay; having perpetual life. Am I truly “immortal”?
Which leads me to where have I been these last couple of years. I had begun my exploration journey several years ago after graduating and completing my tour of duty with the State War Academy. After completing fifteen percent of my expedition of New Eden, I received word that my father was in poor health. I loved my father very much and when the physicians said he didn’t have much longer to live, I knew I had to be there with him. So, I abandoned my journey and stayed by his side for the next year until his eventual passing. It was then my immortality came into question. I realized my father was the first of what would be many family and friends whom I’d outlive. I would watch them all grow old, while I would be forever young, then one by one they would be gone and I would be alone.
For another year, I dealt with the pain and grief of losing my father, the guilt of potentially outliving my family and friends, and spending every waking moment with them that I could, as if it were their last day to live. But what I found during that time was their love and support for me, to go and live my dream, to explore my journey, and to move on with my life. That even as a capsuleer, nothing is set in stone. There are mishaps and unrecoverable incidents that can cause a capsuleers consciousness to fail to transfer to a new clone. We can die too.
Are we then, as capsuleers, truly “immortal”? No. Our immortality starts with death. Our lives are not perpetual. They are interrupted with deaths and transfers as our clone bodies are destroyed by the hazards of space or decay with time to the point we need another.
So, it is with my loved ones encouragement that I continue my exploration of New Eden to see the stars and the planets there in. I go with their love and support that I will always have in life as well as in death. I don’t know how long I have to live, but then again, who does? It’s time I continue with my unfinished business.
I love you Dad, but it’s time I let you go.