The Two Percent - Part One

     I realized that I was staring at the ceiling. The small room was completely dark except for the dim glow of the time being projected on the ceiling between the two twin beds. The faint blue numbers read 02:46 and I watched as that six became a seven. Today was a race day and as part of my inadvertent tradition I had woken up approximately six whole hours before I needed too, and a full fourteen hours before I needed to report for the race. I wasn’t nervous, as assumption which this story nearly always provokes, but I was ready.

     As per usual I continued laying there under the light sheet from the bed as I watched the clock and when it failed to suddenly become 09:00 I stretched my arms above my head as I flexed nearly every muscle I could manage, as if I was in a medieval torture rack. With a sigh I went limp and watched the clock roll over to 0300 before sitting up, tossing the sheet toward the end of the bed and swinging my legs out over the floor. Between my movement and the light pressure on the floor I’d managed to trigger the lights which faded on silently in a dim, amber glow.

     All that could be seen of the woman in the bed adjacent to mine was some of her long red hair for she, as well as all of the women I’ve ever befriended or dated, was always cold. Shariykah was my copilot and cause of much and varied gossip regarding our relationship, some of which was true. I am not an evil man so of course my intent was not to wake her, though as I rose to my feet the increased weight on the floor caused the lights to rise a bit as well. I stepped lightly toward the door as quickly as I could, slipping through it as it quietly slid open. The lights in the bedroom dimmed as she doors shut automatically behind me.

     Thankfully this wasn’t an Amarr station so my presence in the main room of the quarters had no unwanted effects. Well, perhaps you could consider the raising of more amber lights an unwanted effect since they were not as friendly as the dim glow of the bedroom. At least here in Caldari stations the startup or “wakeup” sequences for estate rooms didn’t include notifying and thus waking adjacent room, which back home was the slave’s chambers. With my eyes squinted so far they were nearly shut I leaned in close to the control pad on the wall just to the side of the doorway I’d come through, stroking at it desperately in an attempt to minimize the lighting. With a stroke of luck, pun intended, I managed to get the lights down or more accurately off, but it wasn’t dark. The startup sequence for the room had also included activating the picture frame window to my left so that it allowed more light from the enormous, cratered moon to reflect its way into the estate room.

     I’m sure you’re wondering where I am outside of the Empire that has the trademark amber lighting and the answer is an expensive estate room in Jita, Jita 4-4 no less. Now I don’t know if the room has biometric sensors that pick up my Amarrian genes and assume that I want that classic taste of home added to the dark Caldari steel or what but instead of getting offended at the assumption or in the other direction, lack of polysteel tables that morph into different style furnishings, I just take it for what it is because life if much too short to worry over stupid shit like that, I’ve got enough real problems without making up new ones.

     I took a few steps forward into the room before turning to look out over the dark, likely-fake-leather couch and the dark metal coffee table, and through the window. I reached over my head as I stretched again and this time let out a quiet yawn before dropping my arms back to my sides. While the moon was a nice view the fact I could see it through a window in my quarters wasn’t exactly the ‘remember the good old days’ I was looking for. Maybe once I got some clothes on I’d head out to the terminal in search of some coffee and light breakfast which was the second part in my unintentional tradition of waking up far too early.

     “Good morning… guest” the computer in the galley behind me stated dryly and much too loudly in the quiet room. I spun around as the lights in the dining area came on and the four screens on the walls as well as the 3D holoprojector on the table came to life with advertisements. I hurried to the central panel and quickly jabbed at the “Silence” button before it could continue with its overtly boring morning greeting, which always made it sound so dry and uninterested in what it was saying that it was almost satirical. It often left me thinking that the AI was actually displeased at my being there. Intruding my unmistakably and inexcusably biological body into its perfectly calibrated machine paradise. Or, you know... something like that.

     I dimmed this set of lights as well as I turned back toward the window, the darkness kept further at bay by the newly added holoscreens. I sighed as I looked around the kitchen at the three smaller screens all displaying ads for various Quafe products while tiny red and green stock tickers scrolled prices on either edge under or over the ads. The light from the screens gave the mostly metal galley a purple glow between white flashes as the screens switched between ads, even the main panel behind me had an advertisement in the upper left corner for some random products involving food. The holoprojector in the center of the table was showing people dancing on stage and no doubt had some type of voice over that I’d managed to mute. Once the loop was finished it displayed “Echelon Entertainment” slowly rotating in a circle before it would start over again.

     Thankfully this was a small room, at least compared to what we could have been staying in, so it was a community closet outside of the sleeping chambers. I headed over and slid the doors open effortlessly, causing a small light to come on inside. I couldn’t help but grin a bit to myself, as I did every time when I looked at the number of outfits Shari had compared to my measly four. I had a particular plan though, purposely bringing only two designer outfits, my jumpsuit, and a “casual” outfit. I’m sure you can guess which one I grabbed before sliding the doors closed again and moving in front of the mirror. I stepped into the baggy pants, the fabric wrinkled in places from poor folding and the belt already through the fraying loops. The state of these drove Rahn mad, and while he won’t admit to understanding why I’d want to wear such things he has at least agreed not to replace them. He’s a good man.

     After fastening the light metal belt buckle on the dark pants and pulling on a olive green undershirt I grabbed the tan jacket with brown accents and a copious amount of pockets. The pants had a couple cargo pockets on each pant leg, as well as normal pocket and this was understandable, but this jacket? This jacket had two normal pockets, two lower front pockets, a breast pocket, a pocket on each arm, and then four more pockets on the inside. Honestly, who needs that many pockets? If you have that much stuff just get a bag, at least that way it would be easier to remember where you put everything, but this is how the trader’s dressed so it made for great cover.

     Now to add the final touch which is a pair of shades and a beanie. I tugged the hat down so that it was covering most of my ears and  came down just above the eyebrows. This way I could hide the black “fohawk” as they’re calling it and the upper half of my fading green tattoo that encircles the outside of my right eye socket. I’d say that I pop up the collar to help hide the bit of a beard I’ve got going on but to be totally honest I’m not sure it would really stay down on its own despite the jacket being made of some pretty heavy material. After I gave myself a quick once over in the mirror to make sure I looked dirty enough I headed for the door. It might be 3:30 in the morning but that’s part of the beauty of Jita 4-4, and rightly any station in this system, it never sleeps.