I pushed my crewmember out of the docking port. His uniformed body went sailing out the narrow corridor and into the chest-high fence of the balcony. He tore his lip as he fell, slamming his face against the golden railing. I angrily marched out behind him. The stunned looks of the crew burned the back of my head, but I didn't mind. All that mattered was the solitary sailor who failed to comply.

I gripped him by his shirt lapel, ripping the expensive silk. Casually, I lifted him into the air. His legs began to frantically kick, but all they hit was air. Once or twice they chopped through my hologram, but all they did was disrupt the image. The hard light that made up my hands still gripped him tight.

"You." I said through the intercom. "Do you know what you've done?"

The sailor angrily struggled against my grip, but didn't say a word.

"Do you understand what you've done?" shouted the hologram.

He finally managed to open his bloodshot eyes, but all they managed to see was the pixelated, fuzzy image of me that choked him. He struggled some more, trying to pull away my hands. But even mundane mortals such as my crew know to never trifle with a capsuleer.

I threw the insolent sailor against the banister again, letting him fall to the ground. I stared at the trembling wreck as he tried to breathe, his lungs rapidly pumping. He turned his head to look at me. From inside my capsule, I turned the hologram's head so that it stared back. The pupiless eyes met with his, and he turned his head back towards the ground. The rest of the crew was still gathered around the undock tube. I could've sworn several were amused by the debacle, but many of them seemed worried.

About what, I wondered. They should just leave and spare themselves from this altercation.

I let the crewmember stand up. His lip was bleeding, dripping red blood onto his specially tailored silk uniform. The blood dripped all over the small golden pin on the right side of his chest. I watched him for a few more seconds before ripping the pin off his shirt. It took a good chunk of the shirt with it, but I didn't mind. It was only twelve million ISK, after all. A small price to pay.

The hologram took the pin and tossed it around while the sailor watched. A few crewmembers had squeezed out of the docking hatch, their shined boots clacking against the ground as they left to enjoy the station. The shadowless golden lights reflected off the gold trim of their uniforms. The few that left where what I considered my "elite", the leaders of various squads responsible for cleaning, maintenance, and engineering. The lackeys that remained were the ones who actually did all the hard work. The hologram clenched the pin in his translucent fist after a few throws. I turned to look at the bruised crewmember before me, and reached out to give him the pin.

As he was reaching for it, I suddenly smashed him in the face with a fist of hard light, the hologram reacting perfectly. For the second time today, he was down.

"I said, do you understand what you've done, sailor? You put your crewmates and our allies in danger. But most importantly, you've also caused my ship to sustain terrible damage. Damage that cannot be easily repaired."

I opened my left fist, and a small holographic model popped up, showing the boxy, yet knife-like shape of an Abaddon-class battleship. Numerous red boxes began to appear, highlighting several areas of the ship, including its warp core. Even a dedicated technoprobe would tell you that the ship was unable to fly. A dedicated engineer could tell you exactly what was wrong.

"So," I said. "By re-routing power to the microwarpdrive array, you successfully caused my armor hardeners to go offline. And, despite my best efforts, I could do nothing but let the Decimator take volley after volley of blaster shots to the bridge, starboard engine, sensors, and main warp core. It was a miracle that the enemy tackle ran out of cap when he did, and an even bigger miracle that I was able to get her back in one piece. Now her armor's all but destroyed, and her structure is barely holding together."

I shoved the beeping holographic model in his face.

"Is this what you wanted? To see me die? To see every last one of your crewmembers perish in a ball of fire? Well, I'll tell you something, sailor. You are worthless to me. You and every other crewmember that works on my ship. You die, so what? I can procure another. I can completely recrew my ship in a matter of days because all I need is a few people who can ride a tram and use a fusion torch. I don't need soldiers. I don't need exotic dancers. I need people who know what simple task I want them to do. And it looks like you're TOO STUPID TO EVEN FIGURE THAT OUT!."

The people from the lower levels turned to stare at us. I spotted several other capsuleer holograms scratching their fuzzy heads. It seemed like every person in the station was looking at us. But I didn't mind.

"Look at me." I said to him. "Tell me who I am."

"Y--you're a c-capsull--leer"

"Oh, no. I'm not just a capsuleer. Definitely not just a lowly capsuleer. You want a capsuleer? Go back to high-sec and work for a rookie ship. But I, I am not a capsuleer. I am a god."

I started to pace, my holographic feet tapped against the metal floor of the balcony.

"I am a god. You wanna know why? Because mortals like you can't fly on their own. Mortals like you can't control the darkness of space, or command a Titan. You can't hold an entire planet hostage with your laser cannons, or smite millions of people simply because you demand it. Mortals like you can't procure ships like raindrops during a storm, or managed billions upon billions of ISK. And mortals like you will never become one of us. You will never become immortal. You will never die, only to wake up in a clone with no feeling but a slight irritation. You will never fly blockade runners past multiple bubble-assisted gatecamps, nor will you ever lead a POS-bashing Oracle fleet. All you puny mortal hands can do is re-route the power when Aura can't do it for me.

I raised my voice. The crew began to share looks, and some of the weaker ones began to enter the station proper. The broken sailor in front of me had curled up, tears running down his face, his head trying to shield himself.

"You know what? I don't care about you. I don't care about how poor you are, or that 100 ISK paycheck you get every month. You won't be getting it from now on. You won't be there to re-route the power to the hardeners. Someone else will. You will be filling the slums like the rest of your sorry kind."

I pointed towards the station door, which connected the docking balcony with the rest of the station. He pulled himself to his feet. Trembling he began to walk towards the door, the cold stare of the hologram cutting into his back. But just as he reached it, he turned around. He opened his mouth, and began to speak!

"You... you will regret this. You and all of your-"

I had already grabbed him by then, the hologram instantly lifting him into the air again. This one crew member had been bothering me all day, and now, he wouldn't shut up.

"Go on, finish your sentence." I said. "What's the matter? Can't speak anymore?"

I tightened the hologram's grip around his neck. His veins bulged against the hard light. He gasped for breath, but his windpipe was already closing.

I walked over to the balcony's edge, and held him over it. His feet kicked the air. Below him, thousands upon thousands of stalls, markets, and stores stretched out in a vast bulls-eye. Hover-cars flew through the air, and massive battleships towed by tiny corvettes made their way to their docking platform. Wind actually blew through the massive corridors of the station. A burst of wind swept up his silk rags and whipped around his pants.

"You, you will never defy your god ever again."

"Aura, prep my Oracle for undock. I need a good POS bash."