The small chamber opens with a sworling sound as the air-decompression is being emptied. The eyes of the newly awakened clone starts to flicker and then suddenly opens with a flash.
A voice from a incoming servant says “Welcome back, my Lord.”

These newly inhabited bodies always feels a bit odd the first minutes of the waking process.
Raphael was all too familiar of this sort of transfer of the conciousness.
The various cybernetics and implants implemented in this particular clone sure did their tricks; His audio sensibility was greatly enhanced, allowing him to almost hear the servants heartbeat from meters away if he concentrated. His vision was also different; colours had become more clear and vivid than before, and he was able to pick up even the smallest details of his servant’s fine clothing. And as he started moving his arms and legs to step out of the cloning chamber, he clearly noticed that even his skin had hightened sensibility in his fingers and feet.
He felt the striking coldness of the metallic floor as he took a step outside..
“Just like any other day” he thought to himself.

•

Since some time, Ordo had been tasked in doing missions for the Court Chamberlain himself. The Amarr Empire was always in need of talented individuals, especially capsuleers, willing to sacrifice their clones while putting an effort into defending imperial assets within the Empire.
While his standings with the Amarr had been greatly enhanced as he had joined the well known military arm Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris (PIE), and gained the confidence of even the Court Chamberlain as an non-Amarr, Raphael couldn’t help but feel that something was missing. Days to and end he could find himself killing hundreds of criminals and enemies of the Empire, all the while he didn’t feel the slightest remorse, or even accomplishment.
He pictured his view of Empress Jamyl I, and said a silent prayer – For the Empire, for the Empress, for Himself…

•

He walked up to his capsule, marked with the number “23”, and walked into it. As he merged with the green liquid inside it, all matter of tubes and cords were automatically inserted into the cybernetics sockets connecting into his upper and lower spinalcord.
In his mind, the Punisher-class frigate came into view from the eyes of his camera drones.
Raphael set his auto-pilot on a destination within The Bleak Lands, the inner capsuleer warzone, as he departed from Khanid Prime.

Departing from Khanid Prime

Hur värderar man frihet?
Hur värderar man integritet?
Hur värderar man värdet från första början?
Jag vet inte hur. Jag tror jag vet det jag känner, och det jag känner känns så oerhört mycket. Så mycket att jag skulle dö den honorabla, men vettvilliga, död som jag dömmer mig själv till.

Kan jag med tredje ögat se min frihet i alla ting?
Kan jag med karma och mina känslor känna min integritet uppfylld? Eller åtminstone skapa illusionen av det?

Jag är en väldigt tänkande och kännande man. Jag gillar att (i varje fall försöka) ha koll på saker och ting, att ha rutiner och speciellt att känna en frihet i livet. Den abstrakta friheten. Jag gillar den, även fast den är diffus.
Jag öppnar armarna mot en spiritualitet samtidigt som min världsbild blir uppochner. Det finns egentligen ingen återvändo, men det finns alltid ett val. Mitt val är att stå fast. Stå fast vid min världsomseglande idé. Med rätt förutsättningar.
… Och allting ändras. Fantastiskt nog. Förändringen är den ständiga nämnaren och den ständiga påminnelsen.
Där finner jag också trygghet, om jag väljer att skapa den där.