Sunday, 22 March 2009


The nerve of the man! The absolute, outrageous arrogance!

Oh, I know this man. Anzar Puydemont. He was a friend of my father's when I was little.. well, I say 'friend'. More of an aquaintance, an occasional dinner-guest as a way for father to curry favour. Oh, it's all about rising to the next level, isn't it.

Fortunately, this man who used to bring little sweeties for me and my sister, who used to show us how to fold shuttles from a piece of paper, doesn't seem to recognise me. He attempted to recruit me, which I found utterly obscene, then invited me to attack him.

Well, what do you think I did? I was already locking him while he was babbling away at me; the new Atron I received from Messire Eyron has been serving me well. He had the cheek to congratulate me as his Incursus frigate exploded.

I did not leave for nothing.


Yesterday, I attempted to go to Arnon to see the agent for the Sisters of Eve, but so, apparently, had everyone else! Three hundred people in the system, and the traffic control simply could not keep up with the demands. I gave up even attempting to reach the agent's office, as the station was clearly not designed for that many people. I didn't even bother leaving my hangar; I ordered take-away from an Intaki place there and chatted a bit with others who were equally as frustrated as I.

It was as bad today, if not worse. I guess weekends are busy times for pilots; it seems the exact opposite from planetside work ethics. So I went back to Clellinon, thinking I could stand to wait until Arnon was a bit quieter.

At my hangar, one of my crew told me an agent had left a message to speak with me. Another one? I went to his office, and Messire Eyron asked me to help fight the Serpentis who were harassing a mining colony. I can't stand for that sort of behaviour, so of course I accepted, and destroyed them quickly. Luciérnaga and I make a good team, I think.

It's not over yet, though. In retaliation, the pirates kidnapped a miner and demanded I be turned over to face their justice. Justice! As if the Serpentis know anything about that. And so I go again to confront my enemy in my unlikely battle-Navitas.

These are young pilots I fight. I cannot help but wonder if they are the same children I played with growing up, or if I shall be recognised if I am ever captured by them....

Friday, 20 March 2009


It's a good thing I kept all that tritanium, and the modules the pirates dropped. When I returned to Clell today, Messire Raennere asked me to make more stuff. I checked the modules' information to see how well they would reprocess down, and they covered most of the minerals I needed. No mining necessary!

He's... pardon, but he's a self-serving little shit, Messire Raennere. Clearly he's too lazy to do things himself, and only really cares if I, or any others doing his paltry tasks, make him look bad.

This is not what I thought I'd be doing. Not at all! Running a lazy sot's errands for him, no. It sounded so promising at the start, but I suppose that is the way of things, finding someone else's shoulders to stand on in order to reach the next level.

I've just started a Navitas in production for him, it'll take an hour and a half or so. He's given me the name of an agent who works for the Sisters of Eve, which could either be exactly what I'm looking for, or an enormously disillusioning disappointment.


It turns out I'd mined a lot more than I needed to in order to refine out the required amount of Tritanium. I saved the rest in case Messire Raennere asked me to make more items. The pay I've been receiving for each task has been about double what was in my wallet that morning, so as long as I'm judicious with my shopping, it should serve me well enough.

After so long spent shooting rocks last night, I was itchy to stretch my tiny wings a little. My Navitas, Pequeño Pescado, now being kitted with a mining laser, an afterburner that was a reward from Messire Raennere (of course, I hadn't the skills to use it; I had to buy the book, which set me back a good 20k), a shield-booster and a single electron blaster, also carries a single scout drone which I'd trained to operate just in time -- I was attacked by rogue drones while I was mining, and my little Hobgoblin made quick work of them. I've decided to name him Luciérnaga.

I checked my map to find a nearby system which wouldn't have so many people in it; Clellinon is perpetually crowded with new capsuleers and a few older pilots who seem to take perverse pleasure in reminding us that New Eden is a harsh and unforgiving place.

The map was a bit confusing at first: I had to request it to find Clell first, since all I saw at first was a mess of points and jump-lines. Finding the option to show security status wasn't too hard, or the option to show how many pilots were in each system. It was actually navigating the map which did my head in -- with the system populations shown, the shiny lights seem to overlap in ways which don't relate to the point's location in the map, leaving me growling as a system in the upper corner seemed to assume I wanted to view its details and the system I was actually trying to select remained blissfully unaware. Don't get me started on the sudden zooming in/out or the inexplicable tendency it had to radomly centre on another star I had no interest in.

Eventually I found a system a couple jumps away which wasn't so busy. I programmed the flight path in and went, warping to the last asteroid belt in the list once I passed the last gate.

Two Serpentis were there, looking a bit shifty. I do not regret what I did then, kicking the afterburner in and heading straight towards the closest of them; it was just like in the training simulators. He didn't seem to see me until it was nearly too late. His friend noticed, though! I think I rather caught them off-guard. I mean... this is a mining frigate. With... an electron blaster and a Hobgoblin drone. The pirates melted quickly as I circled them, not doing much more than nick my shields. They dropped some random modules I couldn't really use, but I kept the bits, thinking they might be saleable.

That had been fairly easy. What was the system security here? The description said 0.8. What would be the difference in another system with lower security rating? I destroyed another pack of three Serpentis frigs in the next belt in short order, retrieved the modules they dropped, then checked where the other gates in the system led to.

Ah-ha, 0.5. Let's see how much worse that is.

To make a short story shorter, I nearly got my Navitas handed to me by a pair of pirates in Tristans. I made it out with all my armour stripped away and a nick in my hull, laughing as my ship's miniscule capacitor ran out, leaving me in empty space 6AU from anything, and decided to quit while I was ahead.

Thursday, 19 March 2009


Deities of my ancestors, I've never been so bored.

My agent has sent me to help with the war effort by... stockpiling minerals. I've been stationary in space for an hour now, watching my mining laser cycle and chatting with a few friendly locals.

I have such a headache.

Plus, my new ship looks like a prehistoric fish of some sort. Madness.

Eking a Living

He asked me to retrieve some stolen documents; to shoot down the man who took them and salvage the item from his wreck. I'm not entirely certain how comfortable I feel about shooting another pilot... we all deserve a chance at life... but he did something wrong, morally, and should be brought to justice.

At least, that's what they would have me believe. I don't pretend to understand the political machinations which cause people to act the way they do. I have little faith that my superiors are entirely innocent in any given situation -- I watch the news, alright? I pay attention, I listen.

But -- and this is the sad part -- I need the ISK. While I was in the station, I listened in on the local chatter. Pilots accusing others of destroying their ships, stealing from them as they mined. Capsuleer piracy, war declarations. Destroying one anothers' pods. New Eden is harsh world, and the defenses of my Velator, I'm afraid, will not be up to the challenge.

The payout from retrieving my agent's stolen documents was enough for me to buy skills to train in upgrading my ship and commanding drones for defense. After that, Messire Feritte paid me to deliver an encryption code-book and gave me a reference to an acquaintance of his in another system. I bought a shield-booster for Pequeña, just in case.

The new agent seems nice. He's asked me to mine some Veldspar, though, and I made certain to load a book into my cortical memory. There's little else to do but sit and watch the laser cycle. I think I shall go mad if this is how I'm expected to earn a living.

The Offer

I've been in pilot training for so long now, everything before it feels like a totally different life; the memories play like an old home video, watching through the camera's eye and only feeling the emotions vicariously. Sometimes, I've felt like I'm stuck in an endless möbius, every day a repeat of the same, every week the same cycle. It gets dull after a while, though I enjoy the classes.

I've not had much to say to the others in training with me. Most of them seem shallow and self-absorbed; many of them don't seem to be capable of finding their own heads with both hands. I wonder that the academies let them stay on so long.

I have a Velator. She's not much, a bit clunky-looking and lopsided, but I feel a bit of attachment to her; like a mongrel puppy that wants so much to love you you just can't say no. I spent a while trying to name her, but nothing seemed fitting until I saw for the first time the massive police battleships patrolling the gates. I named her 'Pequeña', since she's so tiny by comparison.

I have so little to my name, it seems. We hear tales of the great capsuleers of New Eden, making their fortunes in great acts of heroism among the stars, but that's something which happens to others. It's a goal to aspire to which seems... so unachievable, like mere mortals striving to reach the summit of the mountain of the gods.

I have my winged horse, though, my Pequeña. And I have a chance.

It seems I've been doing well enough with my training that somebody's noticed. I woke up this morning to find a message from an agent from the Center for Advanced Studies, asking if I want to work for them. How could I say no? It's what I've been working towards so hard.

So here I am, waiting for docking permission for the station in Cistuvaert with an office number to help me find this Jarck Feritte. I hope I don't get lost in there; that's a big station....