Random Posts from Auga

Last night I was in a fleet that engaged Shalee and her allies multiple times.  Although I was involved in only one of her several ship and crew losses, I freely admit I still feel conflicted every time I lock one of her vessels.  When her Harbinger exploded, leaving a scattering of escape pods as well as her own capsuleer pod, I called out an order to let her go, and then I quickly tractored in as many of her crew that remained, sending most to gel-cribs for treating their plasma burns and vacuum exposure.

In the second fight, I did not point her even though I could, and I was relieved when Bald lost lock and Shalee was able to warp off.

To this day I remain mystified at the complexity of a capsuleer that would risk the true death in an effort to save people from enslavement, ones she herself with her actions placed into that peril.

Can’t she see that the Amarr are losing this fight?  The Minmatar are once again gaining the initiative in this endless Faction War, liberating systems and defeating the Amarr fleets at nearly every turn.

I’ve taught Shalee the Way of the Warrior, lore and knowledge that is restricted even among the secretive Vherokior, but who I shared with a blood enemy. I have fought side by side with her and shed a river of Minmatar traitors’ blood.

I know that some among my comrades would welcome her—others would be suspicious and harbor resentment.  I even know that Bahamut has offered her a place among the exalted of TLF, the Ice Fire Warriors.  Other Amarr have joined them, why not Shalee, a pilot shown to be brave and honorable?

I do not know what must now lay heavily upon her thoughts.  It may be time once again to pay a visit to the Keep…

Welcome to the twenty-sixth installment of the EVE Blog Banter, the monthly EVE Online blogging extravaganza created by CrazyKinux. The EVE Blog Banter involves an enthusiastic group of gaming bloggers, a common topic within the realm of EVE Online, and a week or so to post articles pertaining to the said topic. The resulting articles can either be short or quite extensive, either funny or dead serious, but are always a great fun to read! Any questions about the EVE Blog Banter should be directed to crazykinux@gmail.com. Check for other EVE Blog Banter articles at the bottom of this post!
 

This month’s topic was proposed by @KatiaSae of the much praised “To Boldly Go” blog. Katia asks: “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. As an astrophotographer, I’ve found it in the stars and planets of New Eden. Where have you found it? Perhaps you’ve found beauty in the ships we fly? Maybe it’s the sight of profits being added to your bottom line? Or maybe it’s the pilot portraits you see in the comm channels? Where ever you’ve found it, write about it and post an image.” Don’t be afraid go beyond the simple visual aspects of EVE as well. Is the EVE Community in itself a thing of beauty? What makes EVE the game, the world, the Community, so appealing to you?

Why I Fight:  The Beautiful Feeling of Battle

For me, the Sleipnir is a truly beautiful sight, especially when I’m in one spewing projectiles of death…

Why do I climb into pod day after day, risking the lives of my crews?   Why to I keep flying, I ask myself each time I watch as those lives are snuffed out in the vaccum of space or as the value of a small planetary colony explodes in an agony of a matter-conversion explosion?

I fight because I am a part of something larger and more noble, and in being part of that I am myself catapulted to levels of something larger and far greater than myself.  I fight for the Republic and what it stands for, and against the evils of the Amarr Empire and what it has and continues to stand for:  the enslavement of an entire people.

I fight because of the bravery and camaraderie of my noble Companions of Late Nite.  And I am proud to be numbered among these greatest of warriors who serve in the Tribal Liberation Force and fight in the endless Faction War.  I die, am reborn, and die again alongside them, and as they do for me.

I fight because I am a xia,  a dragon knight of the Huang Yinglong brotherhood, an organization that has resurrected the noble martial arts lore of our ancient Vherokior forefathers, long thought to be lost before the dark times, before the coming of the Amarr slavers in their golden ships.  I fight for honor, glory, brotherhood and vengeance.

I fight because my enemies are many, some noble and honorable, others weak and despicable, yet powerful enough to prey upon the weaker and more helpless. I take deep satisfaction in slaying the enemy—pirate or Amarr, all deserve defeat.  I do not look for ‘fairness’ as there is no fairness in war, only victory or defeat.  Yet, a victory against large odds is always the greater one.

I fight because I revel in the exultation of battle and victory, of skill and bravery in battle, like the xia of old.  The greater the odds, the greater the glory and joy of the victorious.  I fight because as a capsuleer, I am as one of the War Gods of old, striding across the heavens wielding thunder and lightning.

I fight because that is what I am:  a Vherokior Warrior, a Knight of the Dragon, a Companion of the Late Nite fleet, and a Soldier of the Republic.

List of Participants:

1. CrazyKinux’s Musing: Beyond nebulas and shiny ships
2. Freedom: the beauty in EvE » A Mule In EvE
3. Achernar: The bike and the barbecue
4. where the frack is my ship?: Blog Banter 26: Love at first sight
5. BlogBanter 26: EVE … beautiful … « One capsuleer against all
6. Blog Banter 26 « Mad Haberdashers
7. » Blog Banter 26: Beauty of EVE – To Boldly Go To Boldly Go
8. Down By Law: Blog Banter #26: “The Beauty of EVE” (OOC)
9. Blog Banter #26 – Beauty « Roc’s Ramblings
10. Banter #26: Beauty is in the eye of the markets | Diary of a Garbageman
11. Progression’s Horizon: Blog Banter 26- Carry It With Us, Or We Find It Not
12. Blog Banter 26: The Beauty of Eve « A Scientist’s Life in Eve
13. Freebooted: BB26: The Beauty Between the Lines
14. Eve Opportunist: EBB #26 : Beauty is destruction.
15. Blog banter #26: EVE shines, and not just visually « Diary of a Pod Pilot
16. Learning to Fly - Spinning ships since 2003
17. BB26: Beauty, in certain conditions | A Missioneer in Eve
18. Dying in Lowsec (One Hauler at a time)
19. EVE Blog Banter #26 – Beauty « Evehermit’s Blog
20. EVE A to Z: The Beauty of EVE
21. Blog Banter 26: Beauty In A Bottle « A Lush In Space
22. EVEOGANDA: Blog Banter 26: The Ballet of Battle
23. BB26: Sometimes the sum of the parts … | Morphisat’s Blog
24. The 26th EVE Blog Banter - TOPIC: The Beauty of EVE - The Phoenix Diaries
25. And Knowing is Half the Battle: BlogBanter#26 The Real Beauty of EVE
26. The Beauty of EVE | Miner’s Blues
27. The Beauty of EvE | Aggressive Logistics
28. Blog Banter 26: The Beauty of EVE - Random Posts from Auga
29. The Beauty that is EVE Online « Lost in New Eden
30. Eve Blog Banter 26: Quit gettin’ mad about video games | Spaceholder

The Way of the Golden Dragon is the foundation of the combat style employed by the combat pilots of Huang Yinglong. Learn the Way, and master the Eight Qualities and Twelve Abilities, and you will gain the skills to be a xia of Huang Yinglong.

The Way is subtle and simple, but the meaning is timeless and profound.
The Way has a gate leading inside; it also has a Yin and a Yang.
The gate leading inside constantly opens and closes,
Yin and Yang ebb and flow.
When the Way is battle, be full-spirited within,
But outwardly show calm and be at peace;
Appear to be as gentle as a butterfly, but react like a leaping tiger.
Though hidden within, the spirit of the body moves;
Though obscured like a setting sun, the spirit moves like an bolt of lightning,
Catching the body and outrunning shadow like a mirage.
Back and forth in one breath.
The spirit cannot be retained in form.
And, though ever moving, it cannot be heard.

The Master said:
When fencing, though highly alert,
The appearance is as calm as a butterfly’s
But when in action, a leaping Tiger emerges.

Present a weakness to invite attack,
But be powerful when unleashed.
The reaction begins after the attack,
But the response strikes first.

The Qualities and Abilities of a Dragon Warrior

To master the Way of the Dragon, you must master the Eight Qualities and Twelve Abilities that comprise the skills needed to be a Dragon Warrior.

The Eight Qualities
1. Fists
2. Eyes
3. Form
4. Motion
5. Spirit
6. Breath
7. Strength
8. Technique

The fist is like a shooting star, the eyes are as quick as lightning, the form is of a striking snake, the motion is smooth and fast, the spirit is full, the breath brings life, the strength must flow freely and the technique remains pure.

The Twelve Descriptions of Ability
1. In motion, move like a thundering wave
2. When still, be like a mountain
3. Rising up, be like a monkey
4. Land swiftly and lightly like a bird
5. Be steady like a rooster on one leg
6. One’s stance is as firm as a pine tree, yet expresses motion
7. Spin swiftly and circularly like a wheel
8. Bend and flex like a bow
9. Waft gracefully like a leaf in the wind
10. Sink like a heavy piece of metal
11. Prey like a watchful, gliding eagle
12. Accelerate like a gusty wind

These are the ideals that combat pilots (xia) of the Jin Hu house of Huang Yinglong aspire to:

1. altruism
2. justice
3. individualism
4. loyalty
5. courage
6. truthfulness
7. disregard for wealth
8. desire for glory

Excerpt from an ancient Imperial Vhek historical treatise on the Xia of Old Vhek:

The Xia Value System

The most frequently used definitions for xia are knight and knight-errant. Like the knight, skill in combat was the stock and trade of xia. However, xia were soldiers only on rare occasion. They excelled in personal combat, and were more akin to the Gallentean duelist than the Amarrian knight. In addition, unlike the knight who was exclusively a member of the aristocracy, xia could come from both humble or aristocratic backgrounds. The xia were often wanderers seeking adventure, but greed and self-interest was not always their motivation. As hired swords, xia resolved conflict through use of force, but their actions were tempered by a personal sense of justice and honor. Thus, what set xia apart from other men with fighting skills had to do with their ideology and code of conduct. As a force for good, xia have been extolled by the ancient Vhek sage Sima Qian. Later historians elaborated, making the distinction between xia, and other types of outlaw who used force without scruple for personal gain. Others saw little difference between xia and their less principled brethren. Han Feizi listed the xia among the five vermin of society for being subversive vigilante, while Xun Yue took a moral stance against xia for their rejection of pacifistic Vherokior values.

In The Vherokior Knight-Errant, eight common attributes of the xia are listed as altruism, justice, individualism, loyalty, courage, truthfulness, disregard for wealth and desire for glory. Except for individualism, these characteristics typify the Old Vhek junzi (princeling, gentleman). The junzi embodied all of the traits of the Old Vhek gentleman, among them: ren (benevolence), zhong (loyalty), yong (bravery) and yi (righteousness). Disregard for riches was a product of the Old Vhek disdain for merchants, and was demonstrated by magnanimity, or indifference to monetary profit. Thus, in many respects the values of the xia are merely an extension of traditional Vherokior mores. Few could live up to the standards of the junzi, though it was held up as the ideal. The best of the xia tried, but most were subject to human foibles. Thus, not all xia were altruistic, and many were acquisitive. Frequently their sense of justice was subjective, and more often than not was in fact vengeance. Their sense of justice (and altruism) could also be looked upon as part of a code of honor that embodied certain elements of li (chivalry, propriety). Noble xia personified chivalry, and even villainous xia would extend chivalry to those they deemed capable of appreciating the notion of honor. Loyalty was one virtue that defined any xia, but it was based on the oft ignored principle of reciprocity. A xia who was not treated with due respect did not feel any obligation to serve his patron with zeal. This was not the blind loyalty promulgated by later Vherokior sages. The courage of the xia was that of any fighting man, and his truthfulness did not always imply honesty. It had more to do with maintaining a reputation as one whose word was sacred, and could often turn to intractability. Even the desire for personal glory was not universal among xia. Some considered it counter to the spirit of wude (martial virtue), which counseled humility and forbearance.

What really set the xia apart from society was their value on individualism, and their willingness to use force to achieve their aims. Thus despite the fact that most of their beliefs were quite mainstream, xia were seen as a part of the counterculture. The individualism of the xia manifested itself as non-conformity with respect to certain traditional conventions. The xia were criticized for placing personal loyalty above family loyalty. Often, an oath sworn to a stranger was considered more important than the unspoken obligation between family members. This was a serious breech of traditional Vherokior propriety. To further outrage social convention, many xia had great disregard for authority. Those who were ostensibly their social superiors were often treated with open contempt, while those of humble status were shown great courtesy. Some characterize this behavior as rebelliousness, but in many cases it was due to a sense of egalitarianism. The xia valued individuals over what they considered arbitrary labels of tribe and status, and were not loath to challenge such notions.

I woke up with the familiar feeling of being podded.  Only, I wasn’t podded.  I had just blown myself to plasmafied gasses, but here I was in a clone vat.

Damn, it worked.  No implants yet.  I coughed out the goo and asked my tech if Commodore Lianne had made it.  She nodded and said Commodore Lianne’s clone had activated the same moment mine had, tech Lao was with her, and all systems looked green.  

I climbed out of my vat and asked “Have we jumped yet?”

“Not yet” she answered.  As she said it, the jump klaxon went off.  ”Get my basic implants in, I need to get to the bridge and talk to Capsuleer Ginnishi asap.  Oh, and send Commodore Lianne to the bridge as soon as she’s fit.  I’m sure she has a lot of questions.”

As soon as my com link was plugged in I pinged Marl and thanked him, and asked on the disposition of our passengers.  I also asked if Predator had given them any problems.  ”None.”  Marl replied “Though there were a few IFW guys on comms who wanted to come here and clean his clock.  It was all we could do to keep Silence from launching fighters.”

Throwing a robe on I headed to the bridge, the crew all saluting me as I passed through the corridors.  Damn, these rorquals are big ships.

When I finally reached the bridge, Marl’s exec made to give me his chair but I waved him off.  Instead, I told him to bring tea to the ready room, and escort Commodore Lianne there when she arrived.

I was seated only a few moments before the doors hissed open and Shalee came in.  She sat down across from me and accepted the tea gratefully.

“Well, it worked” I said.  She sipped her tea and looked at me questioningly.  

“I still don’t see how the hell I got here.  And how the hell did you get my clone?”

“Well, there I have to admit I’ve skirted CONCORD a bit”  I said somewhat sheepishly.  ”I had one of your hairs, you see, and when I came up with this plan I had your clone fabricated.  If you want, I’ll destroy all templates.”

She looked more puzzled than irritated.  ”But… we weren’t in our pods…”

“Yeah, that.  You’ve heard, I’m sure, about this “top secret” Dust 514 project?  Shalee nodded.  ”Well, you’ve just experienced first hand what it does.  That chip I sent to you, it’s a miniaturized version of a pod-clone transfer system.  The only limitation is it has no hyperspace link beyond the current system.  That’s why I had to have a rorqual here, with its clone vats.”

Shalee gave me a piercing look.  ”You took a big risk with our lives.  My life.”

I shrugged.  ”Less of a risk than you took yourself coming here to evacuate prisoners, keeping them from the slave pens of Amarr Prime.”

She looked at me again.  ”Thank you.  For coming for me.  For saving me.” she said softly.

“Well…” I said, now smiling again.  ”You can just owe me one.”

Shalee looked stunned.  She looked at me blankly, as if not believing her own eyes, as I helped her to her feet.

“Are you really here?” she said.  Still smiling, I put my blade away and lifted her up.

“Is this over?”  She sobbed and her voice shook.  ”Oh god, Lora! I think they killed her…”  

Lora… that must be the other person.  A quick glance into the shed showed my men helping another woman to her feet as well.   Like Shalee, she appeared severely shaken, disheveled and malnourished, but otherwise OK.  I glanced at my men and nodded.  They gave me the thumbs up.  I subvocalized to get their rescuee back to the drop point asap; the ex-Chimaera troopers picked up ‘Lora’ and left quickly.

“She’s OK.  My men are taking her to safety.”

I looked at Shalee more closely.  She was in bad shape, and I needed her in better shape quick.  Damn those BTs…

A quick scan from the medkit, and I had the med nanites she needed.  Unstoppering the vial, I poured them between her bruised lips.  ”Here, drink this.”

We needed to get out of sight—picking her up, I moved past the shed next to a storage garage filled with beat-up ground vehicles.  I leaned her against the wall and began to equip her with some close-combat gear while the nanites did their work.

Still clearly confused, she asked my in a groggy voice what I was doing.  ”Just arming you with a few little presents I brought you” I said with a slight smile.  The combat skills I’d given her would let he know exactly what to do with these—shield belt, las-pistol, a couple of curved Vherokior khindjals, and for good measure, a bandoleer of plasma grenades.  If my plan was going to work, she’d need them all.

A quick message ping let me know that the rest of the evacuation fleet had arrived—somewhere is low orbit the key to my whole plan had just jumnped in:  a Rorqual flown by my corp mate Marl Ginnishi.  I stood up and commed my team that we were ready.

A sudden alert informed me that some Amarr, including Predator Elite, had just entered system.  Frack, that asshole had bad timing.

I knew his com code well, and tight beamed him a message I hoped would keep him off our backs until we were done:  

‘Predator. I know there is no love lost between us, and I’ll happily blow you to space dust the next time we meet, but stand down this once. If you want me to be able to save a certain Commodore Lianne’s shapely derrier, down here on Eyt IV. Stand Down. Immediately.’

It would have to do, we were out of time.  One more message to my men to take down the guards and get the prisoners to the drop point, where the Rorqual’s tractors would quickly lift the containers into orbit and safety.  Now for the second half of my plan…

I looked at her again—she looked like hell, but her gaze was now clear and steady.  ”Feeling better?” I asked her.  She nodded as I lifted her to her feet, and her stance had lost its previous unsteadiness.  ”Alright, we need to move out.”  I indicated the direction where my team had cleared the guards.  ”This area has been cleared, all hostages are heading to transports that way.”

I now pointed in the direction of the main bunkers and barracks, where my recon told me the confused BT troops were rallying.  ”The BT’s still have a heavy presence there.  We’re going to need a major distraction to give my men enough time to evacuate the rest of the prisoners.”

I looked carefully at her.  ”Alright…” she said hesitantly.  I smiled.  ”You’ve trained for this Commodore. You can do this.  On my mark…”  Shalee lifted her pistol, and I drew my own Minmatar style handgun.  ”Let’s go.  You take out targets on our right, I’ll deal with those on the left, we both keep an eye out.  If you see any clumps of enemies or if they’re hunkered down, toss a grenade—it’ll track the enemy and detonate at an optimal blast radius…”

I didn’t know if she heard me, but she began to use her grenades with great effect, taking down a crude sandbagged autocannon position with one grenade, then low sentry tower with another.

After that, I was too busy to pay much attention.  I remote detonated some more of the ordnance I’d placed, and then moved in a direction away from the cages and towards the main barracks.

A combat car roared toward us—I shot the driver, then tossed in a grenade as it swerved and crashed, taking out what looked like a latrine.  Moments later we ran past the barracks, cutting down BTs as they ran out, and tossing more grenades.

My shields flashed red as its charge began to run low, and I glanced at Shalee’s—her’s was nearly gone as well.  Bullets whined and pinged as the shields continued to protect us, at least for a few more moments.

There was a moment of silence as the BTs fell back from our onslaught.  We’d left a trail of bodies and burning cars and buildings in our wake.  I knew what they intended next—an mass rush hand-to-hand.  Our shields wouldn’t block something as low energy as a club or machete.

My comms pinged—most of the refugees had been evacuated but there was a firefight keeping the last group from reaching the final evac container.  The squad leader said he’d need just a few more minutes to clear the resistance and get the last group out.

“My men are gonna need a few more minutes.” I looked at my gun—empty.  I reached for a clip, and realized I was out.  No more grenades either, except for the last one in my pack.  I glanced at Shalee’s laser—its capacitor was blinking red, drained.  I tossed my gun and drew my sword again.

I glanced at Shalee again. “How many grenades do you have left?”

“None…” she answered with a grim look.

“Alright… no problem. We got this, okay? You trust me, right?”  I asked her.  I looked back to where the BTs had regrouped, now arming themselves for close combat.

“With my life,” she said with a wry grimace, “which, I might add, is probably going to be over soon.”

“We just need to hold out for a few more minutes, and then it’ll all be over. You did inject the implant Nabole gave you?”  She nodded and spoke in assent.

“Perfect…” now, we just had to get this group to close, and I’d take care of it all alright.  ”Easy…”  The group was getting the courage to charge, and two big Brutors finally yelled battlecries and closed.

Sparing a glance at Shalee, I felt a flush of pride as she used her xia skills to quickly and gracefully dispatch her opponent, her knives whirling.

The other BTs hesitated, but another group arrived from the other side, apparently summoned for support.  Shalee took the moment to look at me and ask almost laughingly ”Any bright ideas, Commander?”

“Yeah,” I said, grinning. “Fight.”

Both groups rushed in, and we fought back to back.  Shalee and I danced the warrior’s dance, blades flashing, blocking a blow here, slashing a throat or limb before deflecting another blow.  We kept moving, but their numbers still threatened to overwhelm us.  Both of us had pushed even our capsuleer’s enhanced bodies to the limit.  ”I don’t know how much longer I can do this!” Shalee yelled at me.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a green tractor beam flashing down and lifting the last container into orbit—and safely into the hold of the waiting rorqual. My comms pinged—everyone was away, mission completed.

“There out, everyone’s made it!”  I yelled, unable to keep the weariness from my voice. “The rorqual is ready to jump.”

“What about us?”  she yelled back as she dispatched another BT.

“Well, you said you trusted me with you life…” I muttered as I fell back, encouraging the remaining BTs to close.  ”Now we’ll see if this damned Dust 514 tech works as advertised, or I’ll be a liar.  A dead one, though, but that’s no comfort.”  I thought to myself.  I sent the command to trigger the last grenade I had in my pack, rigged to set off the antimatter mining core there. There was a flash of light…

Hell is not punishment,
it’s training.

The most important thing is to find out
what is the most important thing.

Enlightenment is like the moon reflected on the water.
The moon does not get wet, nor is the water broken.
Although its light is wide and great,
The moon is reflected even in a puddle an inch wide.
The whole moon and the entire sky
Are reflected in one dewdrop on the grass.

If you want to be free,
Get to know your real self.
It has no form, no appearance,
No root, no basis, no abode,
But is lively and buoyant.
It responds with versatile facility,
But its function cannot be located.
Therefore when you look for it,
You become further from it;
When you seek it,
You turn away from it all the more.

This is it.  We’ve located Shalee and landed in a cloaked drop ship with my strike team; we’ve reconned the camp and located both the main building where Shalee has apparently been very recently moved, and also the outbuildings where most of the prisoners are being kept.

We’re loaded with launch containers, enough to bring all the refugees into orbit, but we need to draw off the guards first to have a prayer of getting them safely off-planet.  They’ll be slaughtered out of spite if the BT’s think their prisoners will be rescued.

Most of my team has been moved into positions near the prisoners cages, and snipers are in position to take out most of the guards.  But the main barracks has too many to easily deal with.  Two of my most reliable men remain with me; we’ve infiltrated the camp and planted plasma grenades by the fuel dump, barracks, and what seems to be their armory, all rigged to blow on command or by proximity sensors.

These BT’s are a nasty piece of work, mostly ex-military and Vitoc’ed fiends lead by Galt Yaster, who was once a pod pilot but burned out.  Systems fried.  The worst of the worst.

It looks like Shalee’s been taken into his command complex—if it can be called that.  Plasteel and ceramic bits cemented and welded together, and patched with wooden planks.

A scream rips through the air—Shalee?  Time to move.  Two guards loiter outside, along with a familiar figure—Yaster himself.  He’s got a dirty, bedraggled figure pinned to the ground.  Silently, I order my men to draw their blades and enter the hut—I’ll deal with the guards outside and with Yaster…

Their attention fully on the writhing figure on the ground, and with our chameleon cloaks fully activated, the guards never see us coming.  As my men dash swiftly into the hut, I pivot quickly and take both leering guards’ heads off with one smooth slash.  They expressions don’t even have time to change—an implant-enhanced warrior moves with a speed unimaginable to ordinaries.  I hear two more soft snicks inside the hut and know my men have dispatched the other guards inside.

Time for Yaster.  He may not be able to interface with his pod, but there is nothing wrong with his implants.  One arm is pulling his victim’s head up by the hair—the other, reaching now for a blade, moves to slash her(?) throat.

Time slows as I ramp up my speed to the fastest enhancements can take.  Yaster’s reactions are pod-pilot fast… but not as fast as mine.  Completing the arc that took off his guard’s heads, spinning in what must appear to be a near-invisible blur, my dao blocks Yaster’s just as it begins to draw blood from his prisoner’s neck, then twists to take the hand off at the wrist.

The beginning of a curse forming on his lips, Yaster releases his victim’s hair and reaches for the pistol holstered on his chest.  The gun is half drawn when my blade returns to a backswing to neatly lop off his other hand, while I kick him simultaneously away.  I need to end this before he can send a message via his implants… my last swing strikes his skull on the vertical, creating a small explosion of circuitry and gore.

Less than a second has passed.  I quickly kneel and gently turn over the sobbing figure on the ground.

“Hello Commander” I say with a grin.