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[[Category:Player Created Fiction]]

=Preface=
''Dream numbers'' is a piece of [[:Category:Player Created Fiction|Player Created Fiction]] written by [[Herko Kerghans (Character)|Herko Kerghans]] as one tale out of his series on Ships, Pods and Clones.  Originally published in the EVE-online forums [http://www.eveonline.com/ingameboard.asp?a=topic&threadID=227008].


=Dream numbers=

Were Gallente more interested in putting their dreams in numbers, figures and reports, they would assess that some 32,7% of their population dreams or dreamed with Captain Chabaine Ordalet.

The Gallente version of the space Amazon, to the dismay of both her former megamodel mother Buroghe Air and his fabulously rich long-limb roe tycoon father Gererique Ordalet she turned down the glamour of the super elite and joined the Gallente Navy where she became Fleet Commander, gaining a reputation both as tactical genius and fearless fighter pilot intercepting Serpentis shipments.

This was of course a sure track to celebrity status all across the Federation: the silver spoon-fed daughter turned stalwart defender of Democracy, the warrior-queen kicking Serpentis butt all across space. That and the Quafe ad for a rumored nine digits sum; the perfect combination for the gallente dream woman.

Ance Achaber is among the 32,7% that dreams with Captain Ordalet. He didn’t use to; Quafe-ad girls were not his type and he hated spoon-fed brats with passion, but his mind and heart changed after seeing her up close. He calls her Chaba in those dreams now.

Whenever courage clouds Captain Ordalet’s better judgment she wakes up in the Colcer II cloning station. As usual when any high ranked Federal Navy officer gets a trip to the clone vat there was a storm of journalists around the station trying to get the exclusive about when, where, against who, how many, is the Fed still safe, can we quote you on that. He caught his first glimpse of her that time, her magnificent feline stride as she pushed journalists aside heading for the docking bay ready to jump back into the fray. Their eyes locked for a brief instant.

He fell in love with her right then, right there, with a passion he never knew he could feel.

She continued onwards as if she had never seen him but he knew, he knew the feeling was mutual.

Oh, he knew! He had seen it in her eyes…

Ance is not an idealist; every time the scene repeats itself he knows it will go exactly the same way, it has to: Captain Ordalet speeds across the cloud of journalist, jaws clenched, frowning, all ready to jump back into a pod to kill her killer; most of the time she doesn’t even look at him, her love, her sweet love, how could she?

She was born for this mission, born a hero; she is a symbol to the whole cluster of what the Fed is all about. He knows how she would love to break free from her duty, abandon her post and jump into his arms instead of a ship right then, right there, he can see it in her eyes how desire and duty are tearing her apart…

But alas that cannot be, they both know it. Destiny would not allow it, for the Federation needs its heroes and worms are not meant to kiss the stars. Thus they keep their love in secret, as lovers that must not be.

Ance Achaber dreams of Captain Ordalet every day at work. 100 clones per week, that is his quota, 20 clones per day, 18 minutes per clone. Toe nails… then finger nails… then body hair… last the head, perfectly shaved without disturbing the brain scanner. He is very good at it, both quick and precise even if daydreaming. A clone’s nails and hair have to be taken care of every four weeks and that’s what he does, that has been his job for the last three years. He likes it.

He can manage to do it in 16 minutes per clone if he is fully concentrated, and one day every four weeks he is. He works completely focused, shaving and clipping 19 clones in 16 minutes each and then at last the dreams come true… All for himself, his sweet Chaba, his love, his passion… now they have their chance to cheat Destiny and be together, 40 minutes every four weeks.

He knows she will not look at him the next time she walks to her hangar among the crowd of journalists. Or it will be just a glance, a quick glance that nobody but him will notice.