I step into the Higher Light Pub and look around. Everything is clean, from the tables to the barstools, to the pool table in the corner. The lighting is comfortably low and warm, but there are no dark corners, no shadows to hide in. This is a far cry from the seedy establishments I usually frequent on the wrong side of the Minmatar boarder.
But the thing that strikes me the most is the people. No one bothers to give me more than a second glance before turning back to their friends or drinks. There are no malicious glares, no hostile eyes sizing up a mark, no dark souls at all for that matter. I am the drudge in this room.
I make my way to the bar, toward an empty seat. Everyone is well dressed, and I'm glad I wore my formal robes. I sit and pull back my hood, revealing the PIE insignia on my uniform collar. My attention is drawn to the laughter from a table. Laughter, that's something I don't hear often in the Amamake, and certainly not happy laughter.
"Hello Ensign. How can I help you?"
I almost don't look at the voice addressing me, not used to being called by rank. By instinct I give the young man before me a sizing gaze. The server is a freed slave, his ID bar pinned under his name tag. I can't tell if he is Minmatar or not, Ni Kunni maybe, one of my own? He blinks back under my harsh stare. Realizing what I'm doing, I break eye contact.
"What's the house drink?" I ask.
"The... the Amarrian Smile. It's made from..." he begins.
"That's fine. I'll have it," I say curtly, interrupting him.
The server gives me a sideways glance as he mixes the drink. Being honest with myself, my irate temper is more from anxious uncertainty than anything else. Give me scheming, devious cut-throat lowlifes any day. I understand them and can handle it. Well dressed, laughing, smiling people actually here to socialize and enjoy themselves... that's just creepy.
But I need to meet my fellow PIE pilots, so I decided to pull back to the Amarr side of the war front in the Bleak Lands for some R&R. The Higher Light Pub is located in a 24th Imperial Crusade station one jump from high security space where PIE has an active office and is a favorite place for the faithful to gather.
I glance toward a group of PIE pilots at a table in the middle of the room chatting animatedly. Considering them for a moment, I resolve to go over and introduce myself once my drink is ready. They are dressed neat in PIE uniforms. Two of them wear multiple decorations and metals on their breast coats. One is Captain Vaarun, the recruitment officer who handled my application. A girl at the table, laughing, notices me and catches my eye. I look away.
Damn it, she caught me staring at them. I feel uncomfortable, but I am here to meet new people and that's what I am going to do. Why is it that I can kill a group of strangers on the Dal gate without care, but I'm nervous about introducing myself to a table of Corp-mates?
My drink arrives. I take it and turn around to find the woman from the table in front of me.
"What'cha drinking, Ensign?" she asks.
Caught off guard, I take a sip of my drink to buy time and assemble my wits. The girl looks at me curiously. Medium height, her PIE uniform looks good on her slim form. A Lieutenant insignia graces her collar. She wears a traditional face scarf over tied up dark hair that covers half her face, but it's light enough that I can see mischievous blue eyes sizing me up.
"A tooth-decaying, fruity monstrosity they call an Amarrian Smile," I say, gesturing to the seat beside my own. "Would you care to join me?"
"Oh, I love those," she says, sliding onto the stool beside me.
I smile, shaking my head at the awkwardness of berating a drink she likes. Sitting down, I flag the server.
"Another of these for my friend," I say, indicating my drink with a gesture. "I'd like another as well. This time hold the vermouth, juice, fruit, soda water and ice."
The server grabs two glasses as he repeats, "One Amarrian Smile for the lady, and one vodka, straight up, for the gentleman."
The girl giggles.
"My name is Swatyy," I say, holding out my hand.
"I'm Shalee," she answers, shaking my hand. "You're a new recruit, right? Did you just move to the station?"
"Actually, I have loft in Amamake. I'm here for some respite and to meet my fellow Praetorians."
"Amamake?" Shalee says, arching an eyebrow.
The bartender brings us our drinks. Shalee picks up her glass and sips thoughtfully. I'm being judged.
"Rough neighborhood, even if you do stay at an Amarr station," she says, and then adds, "You do stay at an Amarr station, right?"
I actually do live in an Amarr station. It's on the wrong side of the boarder, owned and operated by Minmatar under Amarrian charter in name only, home to pirates and war targets alike, but there is no need to mention that... or that I also keep an apartment at Tribal Forces Logistics.
"Of course. I'm familiar with the PIE charter and avoid any perception that might bring dishonor to our cause. It's good to be among those that serve the Empire."
"Mmmm...," Shalee hums, nodding.
She clearly didn't buy my bullshit. Shalee placed her elbow on the counter and leaned her head on it, watching me.
"Is that why you resigned from Gunship Diplomacy when they left the Crusade? To serve the Empire?"
I clenched my jaw. The "God and Empire" facade is tedious, and I dislike overt dishonesty. Besides, anyone who knows anything about Gunship would know better. If I'm to be judged, let me be condemned for what I really am. I lift my vodka and down it in one smooth motion.
"No," I answer.
"No?"
"No, I'm here for personal glory. Slaughtering Minmatar rebels is the path that leads there, and it is the one I will travel," I say with unflinching, unrepentant honesty.
Shalee silently sips her drink. What's she thinking? At least she hasn't stormed away. After a few awkward moments, I made a stab at keeping the conversation going.
"How do you know Gunship?" I ask.
"By name and rumor, mostly. And that you came from that Corporation."
"People are talking about me then."
I make an attempt at indignity, but Shalee sees through it. She smiles.
"I don't think you'd mind that one bit. Don't get an inflated head, Ensign," she says, emphasizing the rank, the lowest rank. "We don't talk about you more than any other new recruit."
"And what do they say about me?"
Now Shalee hides behind her drink, sipping slowly while contemplating an answer. I wait patiently, flagging the server for another vodka.
"They say," Shalee says, meticulously choosing her words, "that you're good and what you do, that you have associates in high and low places, and that your history is... colorful."
I laugh at the calculated understatements. Shalee giggles back at me.
"Come on," she says, "let’s go to the table."
Shalee gestures to the table where other PIE pilots sit, occasionally glancing at us. I pick up my drink and follow her. She introduces me, and I receive a warm welcome, shaking each person's hand in turn before taking a seat.
Sitting there among my fellow Praetorians, making small talk, I began to think this bar wasn't so bad. Maybe I will fit in after all. Maybe I will find a place where I belong. Maybe I can bring some Minmatar strippers from Amamake to dance on the tables and liven the place up.
Maybe not...
Friday, August 28, 2009
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
A Complicated Relationship
A beautiful woman sits at the table with me in my room. She is wearing one of my long white shirts and pink socks, a lock of her dark hair rebels and falls across her face. The room is barely recognizable from what it used to be just two weeks ago. Just two weeks ago since I met Mi, a Minmatar slave that found her way into my life. She's been helping me decorate. It makes her happy, and I enjoy watching the way Mi moves. I like it when she wears my cloths...
She takes the box I offer her.
It's red with gold ribbons, tied with a big bow on the top. She looks at me and giggles, putting her slender fingers over her mouth as she laughs, so beautiful. Her eyes are bright. I gesture that she should open it. She tucks a lock of her long black hair behind her ear and pulls the ribbons back to open the box.
She takes out a soft flat velvet package and puts it down on the table in front of her. Lifting the clasp, she pulls back the covering to reveal a necklace. It's made of etched double gold coils with silver chains bracing them. Each silver chain is decorated with gems, creating a jeweled tapestry.
"Oh, I love it, Master!" she says, holding it up to the light.
I smile, not so much that Mi is pleased, but because I see the beginning of a storm in her eyes.
"It's a new Minmatar design. They call it 'neo-style', and I'm told it's very popular among the high ladies in Metropolis..."
My voice trails off as I notice Mi's pained expression grow. I gently brush back her hair with a finger and look into her brown eyes, knowing exactly what she is thinking. This is what I was waiting for. Gently running my hand down her face, I ask a question to which I damn well know the answer.
"What's wrong, Mi?"
Mi chokes a muffled sob and palms her face.
"It's too much!"
Mi stands and takes a step back from the table, tears streaming down her cheeks, and puts her hand out to keep me back.
"I'll never be allowed to keep it," Mi sobs, "and the'll beat me if I don't bring them more later."
"They" is actually a "he," who runs the local watering hole and whore house, The Pirate's Cove Bar and Grill. Mi is a dancer there, and her entrance into my life is pure happenstance, nothing more than a cover for a conversation with the bartender.
But Mi found a way into a softer part of me, a part that few people see. And once her owner finds out... No, I'm in front of this train, for better or for worse. Years of struggle and death have taught me that if you can't stop the train, sometimes you can derail it.
"The bartender won't take anything from you," I say, watch Mi intently, meaningfully.
Mi stares back at me. What was that in her eyes? Apprehension, maybe fear? I swallowed before continuing. I'm such a bastard.
"I bought you."
Relief flows over Mi's features. Half coughing, half sighing, she clutches her chest and laughs. Then she pounces on me, wraps her arms around my neck and kisses my face.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you, Master," Mi cries between kisses.
Pulling Mi off me, I hold her at arms length. She can see the warning in my gaze and looks into my eyes, questioning.
"There is more," I say, gesturing back to the box on the table, seemingly forgotten.
Mi approaches the box gingerly, as if expecting there to be a snake inside. She looks at me and wipes tears from her eyes before looking down into the open box. Reaching in, she removes an envelope. She opens it and begins reading. I can see her mime the words...
Why am I doing this? It is easier to simply claim Mi as a slave and be done with it. But when I said 'there is more,' I meant it for me as much as her. She can never know, I won't let her know, that my feelings are more than lust or desire, that she holds power over me. It's too dangerous. So I must cow her, control her, dominate her more than even a master can to a slave.
I'm going to end up in hell for what I'm doing to this innocent woman...
I sit down and cross my legs, watching Mi intently. Her breathing is fast and shallow, her face is deathly pale. She falls to her knees and collapses to the ground, groaning in agony. She is a freed Minmatar woman, without means or the protection of an Amarrian house, or even a pimp. No one on this station will touch her, not knowing that it was I who freed her. But slavers would have her eventually, taking her somewhere else... for processing. Mi knows what that means.
"Maaasster, pleeassse forgive this slave!" she begs, sobbing uncontrollably. "Please keep me, Master, pleeassse! I'll do anyyyythinnnng!"
Crawling to me on the ground, she hugs my ancles. I feel warm tears run down my feet. Her begging rings in my ears. I'm about to speak when I realize the lump in my throat would betray my feeling. My own tears threaten me. It cannot happen. All this, all Mi's suffering would be for nothing. I must be strong.
Swallowing, forcing my voice to be even, I say, "There is something I want you to do."
Mi continues to sob, but manages to look up at me. Such pain, terrible fear, in those wide, tear-filled eyes.
"Anything master wants," Mi answers, pleading.
I lean down, and lift Mi to her knees. She looks at me intently, like a condemned man would look at an executioner.
"Make a choice, Mi. I want you to become the First Lady in my House, but only if you choose to do so."
Mi gawks at me, opens her mouth to speak but nothing comes out. I caress her cheek. There is no choice for her here, at least from my perspective. But I need Mi give herself to me, willingly and of her own volition.
Mi nods.
I smile down at Mi and take her hand, lifting her to her feet. Bringing her before the tall mirror on the wall, I hold her shoulders and we look at our reflections. The white shirt Mi wears is soaked with tears and sweat, her eyes red and puffy, her hair disheveled. I've never seen her so beautiful.
I pick up the necklace from the table and step behind Mi to put it on her. She pulls her hair back, exposing a long, delicate neck. As the latch closes, I realize that I locked my own chains as surely as if it were an iron collar about my neck. My hands slide around Mi's waist, and I draw her close. She closes her eyes and reaches up to caress my face. Gazing at her in the mirror, I realize it was I who never had a choice.
She takes the box I offer her.
It's red with gold ribbons, tied with a big bow on the top. She looks at me and giggles, putting her slender fingers over her mouth as she laughs, so beautiful. Her eyes are bright. I gesture that she should open it. She tucks a lock of her long black hair behind her ear and pulls the ribbons back to open the box.
She takes out a soft flat velvet package and puts it down on the table in front of her. Lifting the clasp, she pulls back the covering to reveal a necklace. It's made of etched double gold coils with silver chains bracing them. Each silver chain is decorated with gems, creating a jeweled tapestry.
"Oh, I love it, Master!" she says, holding it up to the light.
I smile, not so much that Mi is pleased, but because I see the beginning of a storm in her eyes.
"It's a new Minmatar design. They call it 'neo-style', and I'm told it's very popular among the high ladies in Metropolis..."
My voice trails off as I notice Mi's pained expression grow. I gently brush back her hair with a finger and look into her brown eyes, knowing exactly what she is thinking. This is what I was waiting for. Gently running my hand down her face, I ask a question to which I damn well know the answer.
"What's wrong, Mi?"
Mi chokes a muffled sob and palms her face.
"It's too much!"
Mi stands and takes a step back from the table, tears streaming down her cheeks, and puts her hand out to keep me back.
"I'll never be allowed to keep it," Mi sobs, "and the'll beat me if I don't bring them more later."
"They" is actually a "he," who runs the local watering hole and whore house, The Pirate's Cove Bar and Grill. Mi is a dancer there, and her entrance into my life is pure happenstance, nothing more than a cover for a conversation with the bartender.
But Mi found a way into a softer part of me, a part that few people see. And once her owner finds out... No, I'm in front of this train, for better or for worse. Years of struggle and death have taught me that if you can't stop the train, sometimes you can derail it.
"The bartender won't take anything from you," I say, watch Mi intently, meaningfully.
Mi stares back at me. What was that in her eyes? Apprehension, maybe fear? I swallowed before continuing. I'm such a bastard.
"I bought you."
Relief flows over Mi's features. Half coughing, half sighing, she clutches her chest and laughs. Then she pounces on me, wraps her arms around my neck and kisses my face.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you, Master," Mi cries between kisses.
Pulling Mi off me, I hold her at arms length. She can see the warning in my gaze and looks into my eyes, questioning.
"There is more," I say, gesturing back to the box on the table, seemingly forgotten.
Mi approaches the box gingerly, as if expecting there to be a snake inside. She looks at me and wipes tears from her eyes before looking down into the open box. Reaching in, she removes an envelope. She opens it and begins reading. I can see her mime the words...
Dear Ms. Michelle Thorki,
This letter is formal notice that Mr. Swatyy has purchased your person and lifelong services from The Pirate's Cove Bar and Grill. Further, Mr. Swatyy has sponsored, filed the requisite paperwork on your behalf, and paid all applicable fees to secure your freedom from the Amarrian Ministry of Human Resources. Please be advised that to move through Amarr space, you will need identifying documentation from a recognized Amarrian house. Congratulations on your status as a "freed citizen."
Yours truly,
Odari Sikra
Human Property Division
Ministry of Human Resources
Why am I doing this? It is easier to simply claim Mi as a slave and be done with it. But when I said 'there is more,' I meant it for me as much as her. She can never know, I won't let her know, that my feelings are more than lust or desire, that she holds power over me. It's too dangerous. So I must cow her, control her, dominate her more than even a master can to a slave.
I'm going to end up in hell for what I'm doing to this innocent woman...
I sit down and cross my legs, watching Mi intently. Her breathing is fast and shallow, her face is deathly pale. She falls to her knees and collapses to the ground, groaning in agony. She is a freed Minmatar woman, without means or the protection of an Amarrian house, or even a pimp. No one on this station will touch her, not knowing that it was I who freed her. But slavers would have her eventually, taking her somewhere else... for processing. Mi knows what that means.
"Maaasster, pleeassse forgive this slave!" she begs, sobbing uncontrollably. "Please keep me, Master, pleeassse! I'll do anyyyythinnnng!"
Crawling to me on the ground, she hugs my ancles. I feel warm tears run down my feet. Her begging rings in my ears. I'm about to speak when I realize the lump in my throat would betray my feeling. My own tears threaten me. It cannot happen. All this, all Mi's suffering would be for nothing. I must be strong.
Swallowing, forcing my voice to be even, I say, "There is something I want you to do."
Mi continues to sob, but manages to look up at me. Such pain, terrible fear, in those wide, tear-filled eyes.
"Anything master wants," Mi answers, pleading.
I lean down, and lift Mi to her knees. She looks at me intently, like a condemned man would look at an executioner.
"Make a choice, Mi. I want you to become the First Lady in my House, but only if you choose to do so."
Mi gawks at me, opens her mouth to speak but nothing comes out. I caress her cheek. There is no choice for her here, at least from my perspective. But I need Mi give herself to me, willingly and of her own volition.
Mi nods.
I smile down at Mi and take her hand, lifting her to her feet. Bringing her before the tall mirror on the wall, I hold her shoulders and we look at our reflections. The white shirt Mi wears is soaked with tears and sweat, her eyes red and puffy, her hair disheveled. I've never seen her so beautiful.
I pick up the necklace from the table and step behind Mi to put it on her. She pulls her hair back, exposing a long, delicate neck. As the latch closes, I realize that I locked my own chains as surely as if it were an iron collar about my neck. My hands slide around Mi's waist, and I draw her close. She closes her eyes and reaches up to caress my face. Gazing at her in the mirror, I realize it was I who never had a choice.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Breaking Camp
Here I am, shivering in the cold. May God damn this station and all its inhabitants, especially the superintendent of environmental control! One thing I didn't miss during my time in Pure Blind was waking up in a room only a few degrees above freezing. Now that I’m back in the pirate haven called Amamake, some old irritations were back as well.
Pulling a heavy shirt over my under-clothing and clasping it tight, I rise from bed to don the robes sitting on the chair beside me. Glancing around, nothing much had changed. The dark brown walls are gnarled as ever. The only furniture is a small nightstand and chair next to my bed. Fortunately, I had kept the room when I left the region, but all my belongings were placed in storage. The austere look suited my mood. Snatching a small pouch of isk off the nightstand, I set out to the station promenade. I need breakfast.
I enter the Pirate’s Cove Bar and Grill, though the “Grill” part was a lie by omission; house of ill repute would be more accurate. Appealing aromas of meat, fresh baked bread, spiced wine, and sex linger in the air. The room is mostly empty, lots of unused tables, except for the dark corners. That’s where the rats hide.
Scanning the room, I see the same low-life scum sitting in the same corners as before I had left. Several of them stared back at me, some with looks of surprise, some with knowing watchfulness. A scowl flickers across my otherwise emotionless face. Somehow word of my return to the Bleak Lands had gotten around.
My eyes drift to the raised walkway where a naked Minmatar woman dances slowly. She’s lithe and moves fluidly, and she is very beautiful, seductive… her eyes meet mine, and she reaches toward me, beckoning me. Averting my gaze, I swallow in self contempt for my weakness and find a small table. I sit with my back to the wall, a clear view of the entrance and the bar… and the girl who continues to dance without missing a beat.
“Very pretty girl, eh?”
The barkeep smiles down at me and points to the girl, as if I hadn’t noticed. He is a fat man, a Minmatar in his mid-40s by the looks of him. Long, dirty dreadlocks hang over his shoulders. He wears a T-shirt and jeans, an apron covered with grease and a dirty towel thrown over his shoulder.
“You can buy her, if you like,” he says, “by the hour or day, whatever you want.”
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t tempted, but I reply curtly, “A bit early to turn tricks, even in this god-forsaken rat hole.”
Laughing, the bartender ignores my insolence, and asks, “Be wantn’ just the morning meal then?”
I hold up the pouch of isk and watch his greedy eyes weigh it. Dropping it on the table, I indicate with a gesture that he should take it.
“So you want the woman after all?” he says, reaching for the bag.
As he claimed the bag, I seize his hand and give a hard, meaningful look.
“I want to resume our previous arrangement.”
The barkeep flinches in pain at my grip on his hand, and answers, “Sure thing, boss. I’d…”
Interrupting, I grab his long black hair and pull the fat man close, whispering into his ear.
“How is it my presence is known here? I took steps to announce that I reside in Pure Blind.”
He whispers back, “You dun' think you can just fly back into this system, after all them black deeds you've done, and not be spotted. Especially after getting kicked out of Gunship and…”
The barkeep stops himself abruptly, realizing he misspoke. So that’s what they thought, that I have been removed from Gunship Diplomacy, my former corporation. I’ve made many enemies in this constellation during the Crusade, enemies that now think I’m so weak G.Dip tossed me out. It didn't matter if the rumor was a half-truth. They would seek blood, my blood, by the gallons.
“I’m in Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris now. They aren’t what you call scrubs, fat man,” I say, hissing into his ear and then pushing him away roughly.
The bartender rubs his neck with one hand, the isk pouch disappears into his apron with the other. His eyes blink fast.
“Don't want to be on the wrong end of 'em, no argument. But PIE., they ain’t murderers like Gunship, is they? Won't skull fuck ya for the fun of it. They got honor and rules, and now you have to follow them rules, ain’t ya? People ‘round here,” the barkeeper says, waving his hand into the mostly empty room, “they won’t know what to think, will they?”
I scowl.
“Not like I know,” the bartender quickly adds, reading my mood, “that you are still the man you were, I mean are… the killer, I mean.”
Sighing, I realize the fat man is right. A display of power is in order, lest my enemies fall upon me. Leaning forward, my gaze hardens on the barkeeper.
“Tell me what I want to know.”
The barkeeper grins, sits down, and leans close. His voice is low, and he whispers non-stop for ten minutes. When he’s done, I smile at him. This agent knows his business, giving me every bit of information I want.
I glance over at the girl dancing on the platform, sweat gleaming on her naked body, so lovely. People are noticing our conversation. Word will spread…
“So we’re square, then?” he asks, patting the pouch under his apron.
I remove a second, larger pouch from my robes and drop it on the table. The bartender eyes it greedily.
“I’m not going to have time to eat. Clean up the girl and send her to my room with a tray in an hour. And if anyone asks why we are talking, it was over the girl’s price for the day.”
***
Inhaling the thick pod fluid into my lungs, I resist the gag reflex. Breathing in and out, choking on the air bubbles I expel, I finally acclimate. Systems come online and I begin the undocking sequence. During my travels in the north, I had modified my Harbinger battlecruiser. Once called the Pike, now she is is even more deadly than before and rechristened The Empresses’s Ship, Justice.
I warp to Dal and jump into system. Moving quickly, I relocate to a planet and begin scanning. The information I purchased is spot on. The gate camp is where he said it would be. There are fifteen hostiles in local, and four on scan. I ponder the tactical situation.
A destroyer, cruiser and a battlecruiser sit on the Auga gate. Off grid, a Muninn heavy assault cruiser lies in wait, no doubt to offer sniper support should the group on the gate engage the Amarr. They are unaware of my intention, not realizing they are prey being stalked. The first move was clear.
I warp to the Muninn piloted by Thunder Downunder and land 5km off his bow. The fool isn’t aligned, and my disruptor and web come alive, crippling him. His ship is fit for sniper support, not for close range action. My first broadside tears into his shields and goes unanswered. The lasers on my Harbinger discharge in ruthless rhythm, tearing apart the Muninn. When the last carronade sounds and Thunder’s ship is reduced to twisted metal, he had failed to even strip the shields off TES Justice.
But I’m not finished, not yet. My enemies need to see a display of power, and power I would show them. Fire and death will announce my return to the battlefield! Despite being outnumbered, despite enemy reinforcements in local, I align to the Auga gate and warp to the gate camp. Having destroyed their sniper support, they will be off balance and I would strike them with terrible ferocity. Pure guile will turn the tide in my favor.
Landing among the three ships, a Bellicose cruiser, Thrasher destroyer, and Prophesy battlecruiser, I target Zostrallis’s Thrasher first. My enemies are startled such they didn’t even lock target until my first broadside cuts deeply into Zostralli’s armor. Despite the repair drones offered by the Prophesy, he falls quickly.
Next, I turn my guns on Xan Kereth in the Bellicose. Now I am taking fire. Missiles slam into my shields, punctuated by the sizzle of enemy lasers. But it is not enough. I tear through the Bellicose with ease. Flying over Xan’s broken, burning hull with satisfaction, I turn my guns on the Prophesy.
Carronades roll in high pitched whines as the two Amarrain battlecruisers fire upon one another. I am confident that victory is mine. But then two more hostile ships arrive, splitting my attention. Another destroyer and frigate appear on the overview. Deactivating my guns, I lock the new hostiles.
I recognize one of them. I had earlier escaped from a gate trap where Wei Evolon had engaged me in a battleship. Now he thought he could do the same in a Catalyst destroyer. The fool! I overheat my guns and fire! Lasers tear into his ship, slicing through armor and hull. In short order, Wei’s destroyer explodes in space.
Now it is just me against the Executioner frigate and Prophesy battlecruiser. The Executioner is little more than a fly, buzzing around, and I ignore it accordingly. Instead, I turned the full weight of my firepower on the Prophecy. I exchange renewed fire with the enemy battlecruiser again, this time breaking his active tank. At the last moment, he jumps into Auga. Had it not been for the destroyer drawing my attention, the Prophecy would have fallen.
I sigh. The executioner continued to circle with his warp disruptor holding me down. I only have EC-300 drones, rather than my usual complement of Warrior II.
Whatever.
Laughing, I watch the impudent little frigate fly around as I slow-boat 12km back to the gate. I take time to fire the enemy wrecks before jumping into Auga. Setting course back to Amamake, I arrive at my home station and repair battle damage. My armor is stripped and needs replacing, but my Harbinger is none the worse for wear.
My enemies needed to see a demonstration of power, and I gave them one. I killed a Muninn heavy assault cruiser, two destroyers, a cruiser and drove off a battlecruiser. The Minmatar were schooled today, and I put a fine point on the lesson. There can be no mistake now; I’m back.
***
I return to my room. As the door slides shut, I stretch away the muscle aches. Pulling off my robes, I rub my neck and fumble with the clasp on my over-shirt as I head for the shower. Something smells good. Pausing, I turn to find a tray of roasted meat, cheese and bread on my nightstand. I had forgotten…
“Is master hungry?”
I turn toward the soft voice, the Minmatar slave girl who had been dancing at the bar earlier. She wore a lacey pink thong and nothing else. My jaw clenches as desire and morality clash within me. The girl approaches and unfastens the broach holding my shirt, seeming to know this conflict, to understand. How many other Amarrian men has she been with, that this slave can read me so well? The shirt slips to the ground, and she playfully fusses with my paints while softly kissing my chest.
She smells like desire itself, and her questioning look sets my soul on fire. I know better than to be seduced by a slave. It never ends with just sex. Her presence is nothing more than a cover for my conversation with the barkeeper. I’m stronger than this…
"Is master not pleased?" the slave asks, her eyes meeting mine, pleading...
I will repent tomorrow.
“Dessert first,” I answer, laying her down on my bed.
PIE. swatyy
----
Combat Record Below:
Pulling a heavy shirt over my under-clothing and clasping it tight, I rise from bed to don the robes sitting on the chair beside me. Glancing around, nothing much had changed. The dark brown walls are gnarled as ever. The only furniture is a small nightstand and chair next to my bed. Fortunately, I had kept the room when I left the region, but all my belongings were placed in storage. The austere look suited my mood. Snatching a small pouch of isk off the nightstand, I set out to the station promenade. I need breakfast.
I enter the Pirate’s Cove Bar and Grill, though the “Grill” part was a lie by omission; house of ill repute would be more accurate. Appealing aromas of meat, fresh baked bread, spiced wine, and sex linger in the air. The room is mostly empty, lots of unused tables, except for the dark corners. That’s where the rats hide.
Scanning the room, I see the same low-life scum sitting in the same corners as before I had left. Several of them stared back at me, some with looks of surprise, some with knowing watchfulness. A scowl flickers across my otherwise emotionless face. Somehow word of my return to the Bleak Lands had gotten around.
My eyes drift to the raised walkway where a naked Minmatar woman dances slowly. She’s lithe and moves fluidly, and she is very beautiful, seductive… her eyes meet mine, and she reaches toward me, beckoning me. Averting my gaze, I swallow in self contempt for my weakness and find a small table. I sit with my back to the wall, a clear view of the entrance and the bar… and the girl who continues to dance without missing a beat.
“Very pretty girl, eh?”
The barkeep smiles down at me and points to the girl, as if I hadn’t noticed. He is a fat man, a Minmatar in his mid-40s by the looks of him. Long, dirty dreadlocks hang over his shoulders. He wears a T-shirt and jeans, an apron covered with grease and a dirty towel thrown over his shoulder.
“You can buy her, if you like,” he says, “by the hour or day, whatever you want.”
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t tempted, but I reply curtly, “A bit early to turn tricks, even in this god-forsaken rat hole.”
Laughing, the bartender ignores my insolence, and asks, “Be wantn’ just the morning meal then?”
I hold up the pouch of isk and watch his greedy eyes weigh it. Dropping it on the table, I indicate with a gesture that he should take it.
“So you want the woman after all?” he says, reaching for the bag.
As he claimed the bag, I seize his hand and give a hard, meaningful look.
“I want to resume our previous arrangement.”
The barkeep flinches in pain at my grip on his hand, and answers, “Sure thing, boss. I’d…”
Interrupting, I grab his long black hair and pull the fat man close, whispering into his ear.
“How is it my presence is known here? I took steps to announce that I reside in Pure Blind.”
He whispers back, “You dun' think you can just fly back into this system, after all them black deeds you've done, and not be spotted. Especially after getting kicked out of Gunship and…”
The barkeep stops himself abruptly, realizing he misspoke. So that’s what they thought, that I have been removed from Gunship Diplomacy, my former corporation. I’ve made many enemies in this constellation during the Crusade, enemies that now think I’m so weak G.Dip tossed me out. It didn't matter if the rumor was a half-truth. They would seek blood, my blood, by the gallons.
“I’m in Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris now. They aren’t what you call scrubs, fat man,” I say, hissing into his ear and then pushing him away roughly.
The bartender rubs his neck with one hand, the isk pouch disappears into his apron with the other. His eyes blink fast.
“Don't want to be on the wrong end of 'em, no argument. But PIE., they ain’t murderers like Gunship, is they? Won't skull fuck ya for the fun of it. They got honor and rules, and now you have to follow them rules, ain’t ya? People ‘round here,” the barkeeper says, waving his hand into the mostly empty room, “they won’t know what to think, will they?”
I scowl.
“Not like I know,” the bartender quickly adds, reading my mood, “that you are still the man you were, I mean are… the killer, I mean.”
Sighing, I realize the fat man is right. A display of power is in order, lest my enemies fall upon me. Leaning forward, my gaze hardens on the barkeeper.
“Tell me what I want to know.”
The barkeeper grins, sits down, and leans close. His voice is low, and he whispers non-stop for ten minutes. When he’s done, I smile at him. This agent knows his business, giving me every bit of information I want.
I glance over at the girl dancing on the platform, sweat gleaming on her naked body, so lovely. People are noticing our conversation. Word will spread…
“So we’re square, then?” he asks, patting the pouch under his apron.
I remove a second, larger pouch from my robes and drop it on the table. The bartender eyes it greedily.
“I’m not going to have time to eat. Clean up the girl and send her to my room with a tray in an hour. And if anyone asks why we are talking, it was over the girl’s price for the day.”
***
Inhaling the thick pod fluid into my lungs, I resist the gag reflex. Breathing in and out, choking on the air bubbles I expel, I finally acclimate. Systems come online and I begin the undocking sequence. During my travels in the north, I had modified my Harbinger battlecruiser. Once called the Pike, now she is is even more deadly than before and rechristened The Empresses’s Ship, Justice.
I warp to Dal and jump into system. Moving quickly, I relocate to a planet and begin scanning. The information I purchased is spot on. The gate camp is where he said it would be. There are fifteen hostiles in local, and four on scan. I ponder the tactical situation.
A destroyer, cruiser and a battlecruiser sit on the Auga gate. Off grid, a Muninn heavy assault cruiser lies in wait, no doubt to offer sniper support should the group on the gate engage the Amarr. They are unaware of my intention, not realizing they are prey being stalked. The first move was clear.
I warp to the Muninn piloted by Thunder Downunder and land 5km off his bow. The fool isn’t aligned, and my disruptor and web come alive, crippling him. His ship is fit for sniper support, not for close range action. My first broadside tears into his shields and goes unanswered. The lasers on my Harbinger discharge in ruthless rhythm, tearing apart the Muninn. When the last carronade sounds and Thunder’s ship is reduced to twisted metal, he had failed to even strip the shields off TES Justice.
But I’m not finished, not yet. My enemies need to see a display of power, and power I would show them. Fire and death will announce my return to the battlefield! Despite being outnumbered, despite enemy reinforcements in local, I align to the Auga gate and warp to the gate camp. Having destroyed their sniper support, they will be off balance and I would strike them with terrible ferocity. Pure guile will turn the tide in my favor.
Landing among the three ships, a Bellicose cruiser, Thrasher destroyer, and Prophesy battlecruiser, I target Zostrallis’s Thrasher first. My enemies are startled such they didn’t even lock target until my first broadside cuts deeply into Zostralli’s armor. Despite the repair drones offered by the Prophesy, he falls quickly.
Next, I turn my guns on Xan Kereth in the Bellicose. Now I am taking fire. Missiles slam into my shields, punctuated by the sizzle of enemy lasers. But it is not enough. I tear through the Bellicose with ease. Flying over Xan’s broken, burning hull with satisfaction, I turn my guns on the Prophesy.
Carronades roll in high pitched whines as the two Amarrain battlecruisers fire upon one another. I am confident that victory is mine. But then two more hostile ships arrive, splitting my attention. Another destroyer and frigate appear on the overview. Deactivating my guns, I lock the new hostiles.
I recognize one of them. I had earlier escaped from a gate trap where Wei Evolon had engaged me in a battleship. Now he thought he could do the same in a Catalyst destroyer. The fool! I overheat my guns and fire! Lasers tear into his ship, slicing through armor and hull. In short order, Wei’s destroyer explodes in space.
Now it is just me against the Executioner frigate and Prophesy battlecruiser. The Executioner is little more than a fly, buzzing around, and I ignore it accordingly. Instead, I turned the full weight of my firepower on the Prophecy. I exchange renewed fire with the enemy battlecruiser again, this time breaking his active tank. At the last moment, he jumps into Auga. Had it not been for the destroyer drawing my attention, the Prophecy would have fallen.
I sigh. The executioner continued to circle with his warp disruptor holding me down. I only have EC-300 drones, rather than my usual complement of Warrior II.
Whatever.
Laughing, I watch the impudent little frigate fly around as I slow-boat 12km back to the gate. I take time to fire the enemy wrecks before jumping into Auga. Setting course back to Amamake, I arrive at my home station and repair battle damage. My armor is stripped and needs replacing, but my Harbinger is none the worse for wear.
My enemies needed to see a demonstration of power, and I gave them one. I killed a Muninn heavy assault cruiser, two destroyers, a cruiser and drove off a battlecruiser. The Minmatar were schooled today, and I put a fine point on the lesson. There can be no mistake now; I’m back.
***
I return to my room. As the door slides shut, I stretch away the muscle aches. Pulling off my robes, I rub my neck and fumble with the clasp on my over-shirt as I head for the shower. Something smells good. Pausing, I turn to find a tray of roasted meat, cheese and bread on my nightstand. I had forgotten…
“Is master hungry?”
I turn toward the soft voice, the Minmatar slave girl who had been dancing at the bar earlier. She wore a lacey pink thong and nothing else. My jaw clenches as desire and morality clash within me. The girl approaches and unfastens the broach holding my shirt, seeming to know this conflict, to understand. How many other Amarrian men has she been with, that this slave can read me so well? The shirt slips to the ground, and she playfully fusses with my paints while softly kissing my chest.
She smells like desire itself, and her questioning look sets my soul on fire. I know better than to be seduced by a slave. It never ends with just sex. Her presence is nothing more than a cover for my conversation with the barkeeper. I’m stronger than this…
"Is master not pleased?" the slave asks, her eyes meeting mine, pleading...
I will repent tomorrow.
“Dessert first,” I answer, laying her down on my bed.
PIE. swatyy
----
Combat Record Below:
Monday, August 17, 2009
The Journey Home
Where is my place in the Empire, where can my service best be applied? I dedicated much time and thought to this question. Finally, I decided to seek a group that puts the Empire above all else, who dedicate themselves to the Crusade. I applied to join Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris, PIE.
While I miss the stone cold killers in G.Dip, with whom I related, it is a blessing to be among the faithful. There is a sense of purpose and order in PIE. I have never seen before. The application process is involved, and I feared that I would not be considered worthy. There are improprieties in my youth, and my bloodline is Ni-Kunni… my father is an indentured servant to this day. Perhaps they would not want a low born servant, freed only through an act of his Master’s kindness, among their ranks.
Then the communication arrived. Vaarun, my recruitment officer, informed me that my application was in order and to submit the signed paperwork at an office. With solemn gratitude, I donned the PIE. colors and assumed my new place in the Amarr Militia. I was returning home!
The welcome from PIE. was pleasant, much more so than the actual journey. When I left for Pure Blind with G.Dip, I moved resources to that area. While traveling out of Pure Blind, I decided to take a shortcut through Tribute. Unfortunately, Morsus Mihi disapproved. Why any group spend their days sitting under massive warp disruption spheres only to destroy passing travelers is beyond me.
But this traveler is battle-hardened, and my strike cuts deep! I knew there was no chance of survival. I was 20km from the gate in a slow-moving battlecruiser, inside multiple 50km disruption spheres. If death is my fate, then let me bring an enemy along!
I de-cloaked and trained overloaded guns on a nearby Zealot Heavy Assault Cruiser piloted by theWhiteKnight. His companions rained down fire upon me. My Harbinger’s shields evaporated, armor rented, and hull buckled. Time was short; I gritted my teeth, choking on the scorched pod fluid assaulting my lungs.
Seconds passed, an explosion, my pod came under fire, pain and a white light. Then it was over. I awoke gasping for breath in a cloning pod, safely back in Kumoi. Well, at least I didn’t have to fly back, though I’ll never get used to the way death feels. Leaning over to the computer monitor, I pulled the combat logs from my lost Harbinger and smiled at what I saw. theWhiteKnight’s ship fell with my own!
After paying for a new clone, I got dressed and headed out to reacquaint myself with Amamake. My Harbinger smoothly cut through familiar space, and a sense of nostalgic warmth filled my soul. The scanner brought my attention back to reality. A Sacrilage Heavy Assault Cruiser was detected in an asteroid belt. I decided to investigate.
Landing in the belt, I came out of warp 20km from Chien Fou. He was neutral to me, and I began aligning out. My ship leached as the propulsion system failed. Chien had train a warp disruptor on me! He claimed that his corporation, Bearn Security Ltd, had been at war with PIE. and felt the need to destroy me despite a cession of hostilities. Vaarun had warned me that PIE. had enemies… his words were not idle.
The first heavy assault missile volley crashed into my shields before my return lock could be established. This could be problematic, for if Chien holds his wide, fast orbit, I might not be able to overwhelm the active armor repairs one often finds on a hunting Sacrilege. Then Chien changed his tack, turning hard to port.
What was he doing?!
I watched incredulously as Chien turned into me, rapidly closing the distance. My scanners locked Chein and applied a disruptor of my own as the second missile volley collapsed my shields. Blinking at his utter stupidity, I activated my warp scrambler and stasis webifier. With his microwarp drive disengaged and engine webbed, Chein was dead in space. A third missile volley crashed into my armor, scaring it. But this time I answered with a full broadside of overheated heavy pulse lasers focused with my highest damage crystals.
This is what I lived for, the heat of honorable combat! The whining pitch of discharging lasers and the vibrating thump of missiles crashing upon armor filled my ears. Drones circled like carrion birds as we traded fire, but in the end Chein’s piloting error cost him this engagement. Burning, but intact, my Harbinger passed over the razed Sacrilege.
I collected the few modules of use from the burning hull and then fired the wreck. Returning to my home station, I reflected on how good it was to be home.
PIE. swatyy
While I miss the stone cold killers in G.Dip, with whom I related, it is a blessing to be among the faithful. There is a sense of purpose and order in PIE. I have never seen before. The application process is involved, and I feared that I would not be considered worthy. There are improprieties in my youth, and my bloodline is Ni-Kunni… my father is an indentured servant to this day. Perhaps they would not want a low born servant, freed only through an act of his Master’s kindness, among their ranks.
Then the communication arrived. Vaarun, my recruitment officer, informed me that my application was in order and to submit the signed paperwork at an office. With solemn gratitude, I donned the PIE. colors and assumed my new place in the Amarr Militia. I was returning home!
The welcome from PIE. was pleasant, much more so than the actual journey. When I left for Pure Blind with G.Dip, I moved resources to that area. While traveling out of Pure Blind, I decided to take a shortcut through Tribute. Unfortunately, Morsus Mihi disapproved. Why any group spend their days sitting under massive warp disruption spheres only to destroy passing travelers is beyond me.
But this traveler is battle-hardened, and my strike cuts deep! I knew there was no chance of survival. I was 20km from the gate in a slow-moving battlecruiser, inside multiple 50km disruption spheres. If death is my fate, then let me bring an enemy along!
I de-cloaked and trained overloaded guns on a nearby Zealot Heavy Assault Cruiser piloted by theWhiteKnight. His companions rained down fire upon me. My Harbinger’s shields evaporated, armor rented, and hull buckled. Time was short; I gritted my teeth, choking on the scorched pod fluid assaulting my lungs.
Seconds passed, an explosion, my pod came under fire, pain and a white light. Then it was over. I awoke gasping for breath in a cloning pod, safely back in Kumoi. Well, at least I didn’t have to fly back, though I’ll never get used to the way death feels. Leaning over to the computer monitor, I pulled the combat logs from my lost Harbinger and smiled at what I saw. theWhiteKnight’s ship fell with my own!
After paying for a new clone, I got dressed and headed out to reacquaint myself with Amamake. My Harbinger smoothly cut through familiar space, and a sense of nostalgic warmth filled my soul. The scanner brought my attention back to reality. A Sacrilage Heavy Assault Cruiser was detected in an asteroid belt. I decided to investigate.
Landing in the belt, I came out of warp 20km from Chien Fou. He was neutral to me, and I began aligning out. My ship leached as the propulsion system failed. Chien had train a warp disruptor on me! He claimed that his corporation, Bearn Security Ltd, had been at war with PIE. and felt the need to destroy me despite a cession of hostilities. Vaarun had warned me that PIE. had enemies… his words were not idle.
The first heavy assault missile volley crashed into my shields before my return lock could be established. This could be problematic, for if Chien holds his wide, fast orbit, I might not be able to overwhelm the active armor repairs one often finds on a hunting Sacrilege. Then Chien changed his tack, turning hard to port.
What was he doing?!
I watched incredulously as Chien turned into me, rapidly closing the distance. My scanners locked Chein and applied a disruptor of my own as the second missile volley collapsed my shields. Blinking at his utter stupidity, I activated my warp scrambler and stasis webifier. With his microwarp drive disengaged and engine webbed, Chein was dead in space. A third missile volley crashed into my armor, scaring it. But this time I answered with a full broadside of overheated heavy pulse lasers focused with my highest damage crystals.
This is what I lived for, the heat of honorable combat! The whining pitch of discharging lasers and the vibrating thump of missiles crashing upon armor filled my ears. Drones circled like carrion birds as we traded fire, but in the end Chein’s piloting error cost him this engagement. Burning, but intact, my Harbinger passed over the razed Sacrilege.
I collected the few modules of use from the burning hull and then fired the wreck. Returning to my home station, I reflected on how good it was to be home.
PIE. swatyy
Saturday, August 8, 2009
Finding Purpose
Has it been only a week? Just a week since I turned my back on that horrible den of vice and evil called Amamake. Forsaken, in favor of a new home in the Pure Blind system X-7MU. Truth be told, I miss the border lands. There was a purpose there, a calling. Even my enemies felt it, though we were diametrically opposed.
But what is there here out in the vast null-sec wastes? What is my calling, my mission? To find myself? To find God? Many an Amarrian have wasted away to dust trying. I brooded on these thoughts during my travels to X-7MU, but my fate soon found me. This region is filled with vile creatures that call themselves human, but respect neither man nor God.
The vermin huddle into balls around their great warp disruption spheres to prey on the passing traveler for no better reason than to kill. There is no fire in their will, no reason behind the slaughter. They murder for the taste of blood. There is no justice that reaches them, no higher law to institute order, no agent of fear.
There is only me. I will seek out the mongrels that kill for pleasure and strike them down in divine retribution. Like a bloody swath carved by my hand, they will be culled without mercy.
But my anger, though righteous and just, must be tempered with wisdom and cunning. I am the stranger in this land, and my enemies abound in great numbers. For years I have fought alone and outnumbered, and I have no qualms standing alone against many. Indeed, I welcome it.
Outmanned, but never outgunned -- G.Dip Motto
I sat observing Torrinos gate in EC-P8R. There was a large fleet sitting inside multiple anchored warp disruption spheres. What fools. Such a monstrosity could not survive in the battle hardened boarder lands. In Amamake or Old Man Star such a clumsy, inmobile defense would be attacked and overwhelmed in minutes.
But this was not the battlefield I was acustom too, and I was outnumbered 35 to 1. My scans revealed a Zealot preached 90 km from his companions, clearly offering sniper support. He would be my target. I came in with my modules hot. L HepheastusSon didn't even have time to begin locking as the first cannonade collapsed his shields and bit deeply into his armor. His allies were in shock at the boldness of the assault, slowing their reaction time. Before they could even approach to aid their comrade, I was warping away from L Hep's burning hull. Arrogance threatened to overtake humility; I couldent help but smile at my own audacity.
But I wasn't finished. Ever patient, I observed the hive dwindle until only a handful of ships remained on the gate. Then I struck! Falling upon Empress Olivia's Vagabond, her shields bucked under holy wrath. Not even assisting fire from a stealth bomber was able to prevent me from proving the Vagabond was merely a decorated coffin ship. Escaping before help arrived, I pondered my next mark.
It amazed me how the denizens of EC- can fly such costly vessels so poorly. Even though my presence was known in system, despite my having harvested two HACs, I found Kintonar Flitlanus outside the EC station sparing with his friend Trix Areforkids. Utter foolishness, for which I made him pay dearly. Striking fast, I collapsed what armor Kintonar's Zealot had left with two volleys and left the field before Trix could get in warp disruptor range.
It wasn't long before another target presented itself. I admit I'd become heady with overconfidence. Certain in my superiority over these vermin, I allowed myself to forget that even 100 wilderbeast can trample a lion to death. Zacharia Bigmiff busied himself anchoring a large warp disruption sphere on the Tor. gate in an effort to murder hapless travelers. He would pay!
I dropped on top of him, a mere 30km from his 10-man fleet, and opened fire. The familiar hum of overheated lasers vibrated through my soul. It made me sing. Zach fell quickly, his flaming hull a beacon of warning to other heathens. But in my arrogance, I dallied too long. A crusader interceptor got a target lock. Unable to withdraw and under the combined fire of a small fleet, my Harbinger was razed. Even as I fell, I lifted my voice in song, exhorting death and sacrifice in the name of justice.
My fate was well deserved, and over-long in coming, truth be told. Still, I was flabbergasted to hear the bickering between supposed allies. You can see from the comm logs below, the EC- residence truely are a rabble. Not even the Minmatar fall upon one another like this.
---
[00:06:44] swatyy > heh
[00:07:06] Zacharia Bigmiff > you cunts better get that harby now you weren't looking out for me whilst i was setting up that bubble
[00:07:24] swatyy > o/
[00:07:26] swatyy > gf
[00:07:44] Zacharia Bigmiff > thanks a lot guys, nobody was watching my back at all
[00:08:23] Hannibal218 > what we lost a ship?
[00:09:03] xxxak > what did you lose?
[00:09:08] Zacharia Bigmiff > a fucking ishtar
[00:09:12] Zacharia Bigmiff > i was putting up a bubble man
[00:09:19] Hannibal218 > to the harbinger?
[00:09:22] Zacharia Bigmiff > yes
[00:09:23] Tronzo > were u paying attention?
[00:09:29] Zacharia Bigmiff > i was putting up the bubble man
[00:09:40] The Groid > were anybody shooting him ?
[00:09:42] Hannibal218 > the second the harbinger apeared i started shooting at it
[00:09:48] Hannibal218 > i even jammed him one cycle
[00:09:54] Tronzo > i was shooting at it had him scramed so did my corpmates
[00:09:57] The Groid > and the rest?
[00:10:06] The Groid > i heard that that harbi warped away and all that
[00:10:26] Zacharia Bigmiff > man i pissed
[00:10:28] Zacharia Bigmiff > i'm*
---
Despite my success in Pure Blind, my heart can find no peace here. I enjoyed a short pilgrimage to the null-sec wastes, a journey that affirmed my purpose in the Amarr Militia. Who can turn their back on destiny? Who can stand against the fates dictated by the Higher Power? I must return to the Bleak Lands, for that is God's will.
Doing so will cost much. I must leave my comrades in Gunship Diplomacy, to resign the commission granting membership to that fine organization. My heart breaks to leave such a talented group of hunters, but it must be so. I must return. A place is reserved in my soul for Gunship and it's people. May time bring us together, to fight in common cause once again.
I leave Gunship Diplomacy and the residents of Pure Blind with choice selections from my sensor logs.
Fond farewell! o/
[G.Dip] swatyy
But what is there here out in the vast null-sec wastes? What is my calling, my mission? To find myself? To find God? Many an Amarrian have wasted away to dust trying. I brooded on these thoughts during my travels to X-7MU, but my fate soon found me. This region is filled with vile creatures that call themselves human, but respect neither man nor God.
The vermin huddle into balls around their great warp disruption spheres to prey on the passing traveler for no better reason than to kill. There is no fire in their will, no reason behind the slaughter. They murder for the taste of blood. There is no justice that reaches them, no higher law to institute order, no agent of fear.
There is only me. I will seek out the mongrels that kill for pleasure and strike them down in divine retribution. Like a bloody swath carved by my hand, they will be culled without mercy.
But my anger, though righteous and just, must be tempered with wisdom and cunning. I am the stranger in this land, and my enemies abound in great numbers. For years I have fought alone and outnumbered, and I have no qualms standing alone against many. Indeed, I welcome it.
Outmanned, but never outgunned -- G.Dip Motto
I sat observing Torrinos gate in EC-P8R. There was a large fleet sitting inside multiple anchored warp disruption spheres. What fools. Such a monstrosity could not survive in the battle hardened boarder lands. In Amamake or Old Man Star such a clumsy, inmobile defense would be attacked and overwhelmed in minutes.
But this was not the battlefield I was acustom too, and I was outnumbered 35 to 1. My scans revealed a Zealot preached 90 km from his companions, clearly offering sniper support. He would be my target. I came in with my modules hot. L HepheastusSon didn't even have time to begin locking as the first cannonade collapsed his shields and bit deeply into his armor. His allies were in shock at the boldness of the assault, slowing their reaction time. Before they could even approach to aid their comrade, I was warping away from L Hep's burning hull. Arrogance threatened to overtake humility; I couldent help but smile at my own audacity.
But I wasn't finished. Ever patient, I observed the hive dwindle until only a handful of ships remained on the gate. Then I struck! Falling upon Empress Olivia's Vagabond, her shields bucked under holy wrath. Not even assisting fire from a stealth bomber was able to prevent me from proving the Vagabond was merely a decorated coffin ship. Escaping before help arrived, I pondered my next mark.
It amazed me how the denizens of EC- can fly such costly vessels so poorly. Even though my presence was known in system, despite my having harvested two HACs, I found Kintonar Flitlanus outside the EC station sparing with his friend Trix Areforkids. Utter foolishness, for which I made him pay dearly. Striking fast, I collapsed what armor Kintonar's Zealot had left with two volleys and left the field before Trix could get in warp disruptor range.
It wasn't long before another target presented itself. I admit I'd become heady with overconfidence. Certain in my superiority over these vermin, I allowed myself to forget that even 100 wilderbeast can trample a lion to death. Zacharia Bigmiff busied himself anchoring a large warp disruption sphere on the Tor. gate in an effort to murder hapless travelers. He would pay!
I dropped on top of him, a mere 30km from his 10-man fleet, and opened fire. The familiar hum of overheated lasers vibrated through my soul. It made me sing. Zach fell quickly, his flaming hull a beacon of warning to other heathens. But in my arrogance, I dallied too long. A crusader interceptor got a target lock. Unable to withdraw and under the combined fire of a small fleet, my Harbinger was razed. Even as I fell, I lifted my voice in song, exhorting death and sacrifice in the name of justice.
My fate was well deserved, and over-long in coming, truth be told. Still, I was flabbergasted to hear the bickering between supposed allies. You can see from the comm logs below, the EC- residence truely are a rabble. Not even the Minmatar fall upon one another like this.
---
[00:06:44] swatyy > heh
[00:07:06] Zacharia Bigmiff > you cunts better get that harby now you weren't looking out for me whilst i was setting up that bubble
[00:07:24] swatyy > o/
[00:07:26] swatyy > gf
[00:07:44] Zacharia Bigmiff > thanks a lot guys, nobody was watching my back at all
[00:08:23] Hannibal218 > what we lost a ship?
[00:09:03] xxxak > what did you lose?
[00:09:08] Zacharia Bigmiff > a fucking ishtar
[00:09:12] Zacharia Bigmiff > i was putting up a bubble man
[00:09:19] Hannibal218 > to the harbinger?
[00:09:22] Zacharia Bigmiff > yes
[00:09:23] Tronzo > were u paying attention?
[00:09:29] Zacharia Bigmiff > i was putting up the bubble man
[00:09:40] The Groid > were anybody shooting him ?
[00:09:42] Hannibal218 > the second the harbinger apeared i started shooting at it
[00:09:48] Hannibal218 > i even jammed him one cycle
[00:09:54] Tronzo > i was shooting at it had him scramed so did my corpmates
[00:09:57] The Groid > and the rest?
[00:10:06] The Groid > i heard that that harbi warped away and all that
[00:10:26] Zacharia Bigmiff > man i pissed
[00:10:28] Zacharia Bigmiff > i'm*
---
Despite my success in Pure Blind, my heart can find no peace here. I enjoyed a short pilgrimage to the null-sec wastes, a journey that affirmed my purpose in the Amarr Militia. Who can turn their back on destiny? Who can stand against the fates dictated by the Higher Power? I must return to the Bleak Lands, for that is God's will.
Doing so will cost much. I must leave my comrades in Gunship Diplomacy, to resign the commission granting membership to that fine organization. My heart breaks to leave such a talented group of hunters, but it must be so. I must return. A place is reserved in my soul for Gunship and it's people. May time bring us together, to fight in common cause once again.
I leave Gunship Diplomacy and the residents of Pure Blind with choice selections from my sensor logs.
Fond farewell! o/
[G.Dip] swatyy
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Seeking Peace
Where can an Amarrian warrior find the blessing of God? What can he do to find the light? For a time, I found peace fighting the Minmatar hordes that defiled the border lands with their disobedience. Many fell under my lasers, my Harbinger cutting a swath through the heathens. But that was then, and this is now. The war rages, but my attention ever drifts. There is no peace in my soul. It’s time for a change.
Gunship Diplomacy has decided to withdraw from the front lines to the 0.0 region of Pure Blind to join their comrades in arms against the larger power blocs in the North. While I don’t share their ambitions (it would be prideful), I welcome the diversion as a pilgrimage. Perhaps in the solitude of deep space, I can come to terms of what it means to be Amarr.
Alas, it was not to be so. For shortly after I entered Pure Blind, I encountered Julll flying a Sacrilege Heavy Assault Cruiser. Everything about him screamed that he was a predator. I was not surprised when he targeted my Harbinger, but I wondered if he would have done the same had he known who he was attacking.
My lasers hummed in hypnotic succession as his missiles thundered against my Harbinger’s hull. As he pulled into orbit around me, Jilll made his fatal mistake. Cutting inside 8000km, my overheated scrambler and web reached out and entangled his propulsion system. Simultaneously, the EC-600 jamming drones worked their magic and broke his targeting lock.
I smirked as my guns overheated, watching my helpless opponent’s armor buckle under withering laser fire. Julll’s armor flashed green as the repair systems franticly tried to keep up with the punishment, but it was not enough. Regaining his lock, he fired one volley in indignation before the Sacrilege’s hull collapsed in a bright flash .
I fired the wreck and continued on my way to X-7MU, the new staging system for Gunship Diplomacy. Reflecting on my encounter, I realized that there would be no peace even here. Evil surrounds me everywhere, hiding in the shadows. Let it be so, for I will illuminate the darkness with laser fire and burn the unclean from the heavens wherever I may be.
[G.Dip] swatyy
Gunship Diplomacy has decided to withdraw from the front lines to the 0.0 region of Pure Blind to join their comrades in arms against the larger power blocs in the North. While I don’t share their ambitions (it would be prideful), I welcome the diversion as a pilgrimage. Perhaps in the solitude of deep space, I can come to terms of what it means to be Amarr.
Alas, it was not to be so. For shortly after I entered Pure Blind, I encountered Julll flying a Sacrilege Heavy Assault Cruiser. Everything about him screamed that he was a predator. I was not surprised when he targeted my Harbinger, but I wondered if he would have done the same had he known who he was attacking.
My lasers hummed in hypnotic succession as his missiles thundered against my Harbinger’s hull. As he pulled into orbit around me, Jilll made his fatal mistake. Cutting inside 8000km, my overheated scrambler and web reached out and entangled his propulsion system. Simultaneously, the EC-600 jamming drones worked their magic and broke his targeting lock.
I smirked as my guns overheated, watching my helpless opponent’s armor buckle under withering laser fire. Julll’s armor flashed green as the repair systems franticly tried to keep up with the punishment, but it was not enough. Regaining his lock, he fired one volley in indignation before the Sacrilege’s hull collapsed in a bright flash .
I fired the wreck and continued on my way to X-7MU, the new staging system for Gunship Diplomacy. Reflecting on my encounter, I realized that there would be no peace even here. Evil surrounds me everywhere, hiding in the shadows. Let it be so, for I will illuminate the darkness with laser fire and burn the unclean from the heavens wherever I may be.
[G.Dip] swatyy
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)