Prologue to Exodus

... Deckhard's expression twisted into that of slight disgust. "Thanks Rol, I appreciate it."

Rol flicked off the com display and leaned back in his chair, staring at the now blank vid-screen. His finger traced slowly along the line of his jaw as he reviewed the previous conversion just moments before in his mind's eye. One thing he had stated about Deckhard's particular predicament resonated with his own situation as well.

"As I see it for you, Deckhard, survival is your new priority."

Rol sighed and looked slowly about the spartan room he had set aside for his personal office. He did not favor the display of opulence that the other capsuleers seem to relish having in their personal domains, and his personal space reflected that attitude. The few things that were present in this room all had a specific design and function. Sitting, working, communicating, nothing more. The only passable aesthetic was the low, amber lighting and perhaps the subdued, dull song of the battleship's engines.

Rol closed his eyes and listened to the muted chorus the ship's engines. With Deckhard's capture and the slander run against him through the Amarrian intelligence channels, Rol knew soon they would be coming for himself as well. To scrutinize, dissect and rebuild. Or to destroy and start again. Rol knew they would not chance the possibility of their project falling out of line. Of him falling out of line after all the time and resources to convert him from the tainted, twisted being they perceived him to be.

"...survival is your new priority."

A part of Rol naively hoped they would not come, but he knew better. In highest probability, the MIO was most likely en route now. His assets would be frozen and once in range a particular control would be used to ensure the least amount of resistance. There was an alternative. But it was not alternative he had hoped to use so soon and not for this particular situation. But if he didn't use it...

"...survival..."

Rol knew he had no choice. Opening his eyes, he slowly stood from his desk. He tapped several keys on the on its command console, bringing up a holographic display of the Abaddon class battleship. He observed the floating holo-image as he keyed in several more commands with the command console. Parts of the hologram began flashing red, indicating a catastrophic loss of pressurization in those areas as the breathable atmosphere was venting out into space. Rol's vision focused through the hologram towards the door. His hand hovered over a key on his desk just for an instant before pressing down.

The doors slid open as Rol felt the air rush out of the room.