How I Got the Hel out of Deklein - A Retvet Story

For the better part of a decade since I last played Eve Online, one of my pilots lay in cryosleep aboard a Hel supercarrier where she had logged off at a POS in a norther region of space called Deklein.  I would occasionally read an article about Eve and remember that I had significant assets in the game.  A couple times I even tried to pick it up again, but found that my alliance was in another region and if the learning curve of Eve is steep, the relearning curve is almost as steep.  I never dared to log in that Hel, now in enemy occupied space.  

Then Eve Echos was released and I tried it out.  “Wow, this is essentially the same game on a mobile device.” This got me interested in reaching out to my old corp in Eve Online, and I learned that the alliance was under siege and they encouraged me to come back. I was between games, it is covid-times and so I was looking for more social interaction, so I decided, “What the Hell!”

My strategy for returning was to try to relearn the game flying subcaps, and not worry about all capitals I had strewn about the map in asset safety or logged out in space.  I invested a few bucks in plex and settled into our besieged home in Delve.   This is where I encountered a bunch of problems.  

The first problem was the interface.  I was so disappointed.  It hadn’t changed much in a decade, by 2020 it was an extremely dated, eclectic and non-intuitive text based nightmare compared to the modern games I have played in recent years.    Also, being nearly 50 my eyes just couldn’t make out the tiny text on my large high res display.  I quickly got lost on the first few fleets I joined.  “What the hell is an ansiblex?” But slowly things came back to me as my alliance conducted 101 training classes for bitter retvets answering the Horn of Goondor.  

The second problem was my pilot skills.  Back in 2012 it was a fairly normal thing to train straight racial skills.  In fact, it was more efficient.  Doctrine fleets (did we have doctrines back then?) allowed you to fly pretty much whatever matched from your race.  But now the doctrines were a mishmash for me.  I had to be able to fly ships of one race with weapons of another.  Each doctrine had something different and there were so many doctrines being flown.  I was looking at months to get up to speed so I could even participate with subcaps.  So I analysed the fleet doctrines used my first two weeks and ordered the doctrines by frequency of use.  Then I developed a skill plan that would let me participate as quickly as possible, and popped a few more plex and skill injectors.  This was starting to get expensive.   But now I was able to participate in fleets and I wasn’t getting lost as much.  Things were coming back and it was fun!

The third problem for the first few weeks was my fellow pilots.  If you got lost in fleet and asked for help they would make some comment about “spais” or “Go read the doctrine” or something equally unhelpful.  A couple times I nearly said “fuck it, let these kids lose their space in this dated game.”  But then Mittens sounded the horn of Goondor, and along with that he made it very clear that retvets would have a lot of questions and that those who were unhelpful should fuck off.  It actually worked.  I wasn’t the only one asking questions anymore, and the snide comments stopped for the most part.  The FC’s started becoming really helpful and responsive to questions.  Things were looking up, and I was able to start answering retvet questions myself. 

After about a month back into the game, I got myself a rusty new Dreadnought so I could join capital fleets.  Learning and relearning the jump drive mechanics, I started thinking more about that Hel in Deklein.  I asked around about getting extraction help.  A few corp mates offered cynos, but looking at the map it was at least 13 jumps across vast regions of New Eden.  I felt uncomfortable asking them to do this, and felt for sure I would fuck it up and be an embarrassment.  CCP was unwilling to move the ship for me because it “sports a jumpdrive.”  Never mind that players have been able to dock their supers at upwell structures for years. Never mind that CCP had changed the bay configurations and skills for the ship and fighters and I could no longer launch fighters I could before.  Also, there was a good chance my ship would blow up if I got out of it to rejoin my corp.  I tried to explain these things to the GMs who responded to my requests, but they clearly had no knowledge of how the changes over the years affected my situation.  Nor did they care.  Mostly I wanted the pilot back so perhaps I could buy a new super at home, so I considered logging in and self destructing.   

But then I read a story about a Titan pilot who successfully got his titan home from Deklein said “fuck it.” The loss mail would be out of alliance, and you only live once.  I knew I had logged off at a friendly POS, and figured there would likely now be an enemy POS.  My first step was to log on to Singularity and see what structures were at the moon where I was logged off.  There was nothing.  “Wow, this might be possible,” I thought and it gave me the motivation to take the next steps.  

CCP had also changed the jump cyno skills and requirements, so my next step was to inject one of my characters with the skills to fly a force recon.  I also enlisted another character to act as eyes.  This meant triple boxing a game with a UI I had felt lost in just a few weeks before.  Once I got eyes in the system, I found that there were certain times at night when it was empty. I logged in my hel pilot and took account of the fit and fuel supply. I blessed my former self so many years ago for having 100K isotopes and lots of liquid ozone onboard.  There was even a hauler there.  On the other hand, drones could not be launched, and I no longer had the skills for the fighters onboard.  My only weapons would be a smartbomb, ECM, and neuts.    My tank would be only a third of current doctrine fits.  

Over the next couple days I watched the system, and planned my route.  I got my Recon ship with cyno into position in Pure Blind.  I had never solo traveled in a capital before, and I made a checklist of things to do and the order.  Form fleet, wait for both systems to be empty.  Log in the Hel, form fleet, double check local, decloak, light cyno, jump, warp fleet to bookmark, pray.  My hands shook so I could barely right click and select the cyno beacon! I wiped them on my trousers.  Just do it!  And I did it.  And my super made it into warp and cloaked.  I watched with relief but some trepidation as my cyno finally reached 5 minutes….  and then cycled again.  I almost laughed. If this was the worst mistake of the day, I would call it good.

A night or two later I prepared to make my second jump into Black Rise.  I had changed my cloaky ship name to a Russian phrase meaning “Minding my own business”.  It didn’t stop lots of conversation and complaints in Russian about how I was preventing them from doing their own business as I extracted from Deklein.  This time I wanted to fit webs on my recon to help the Hel get into warp faster, and ended up getting camped into an NPC station.  I had waited 8 years, so these guys had no idea the depths of my patience.  

I made the second jump and webbed the Hel into warp.  Just as I did so a neutral jumped into system and posted “?” into local and warped to my cyno.  They engaged with their drones and I watched with amazement how I was nearly tanking them. It would take a long time to die.  I waited until my cyno was a few seconds from ending and then target locked the hostile and tried to launch my ECM drones. “You do not have the required skills for this item.”  I had fitted the ship according to doctrine but had forgotten about the drone skills when I injected the pilot.  Amazingly the hostile pilot unlocked me and warped off with a “cya” in local.  I was so relieved that I would not have to fly god knows where to sort out a new recon that I sent the pilot probably way too much isk for karma and logged off happy.

I had 102% of the fuel required to make it home if I was able to make every optimal jump laid out in Garpa.  I knew that wasn’t going to happen, and so on my next jump I decided to sort out refueling.  I was glad I scouted the route to a lowsec station with overpriced isotopes because the route was blocked by a triglavian invasion.  I found another station that wasn’t, and scouted my hauler filled with fuel without incident.  I also picked up a few skill books so my Hel pilot could start learning the new skills.  I relearned the mechanics of accessing the various bays and transferring items while trying to stay cloaked whenever a local came into the system.  They had Chinese names here so I changed my ship names to Chinese glyphs meaning “Explorer”  and “Peaceful Night”.  

For my third jump I got eyes in the system but it never seemed to empty out.  Low sec people are strange.  They just stay in the belts in mining ships with neutrals in the system.  By this time I was getting really good at scanning people down.   This one guy seemed to not be a threat, but you never know what friends they have.  He was in a corporation with almost a hundred members.  Finally he complained about me being in his system. I told him that I was working on a data collection project for a new utility application.  He asked why I didn’t just use the API and I told him some things weren’t available on the API, for example storms, and that I needed to scan for data when there were no “player ships” on scan.  I apologized for the inconvenience, and told him I would not resort to violence to clear the system for at least a couple days.  At this point he left the system and when he didn’t return for an hour or two I made my jump. And the next.  

Soon I was in Syndicate and the war had taken a turn.  Querious was increasingly hostile and it looked like I had chosen an unfortunate route.  Also, a fellow retvet was also extracting a super from Deklein and he was going through Fountain.  I plotted a new course and found that I could make the jump from Solitude to Fountain and join up with him.  More eyes, more cynos, better chance of success. 

“I think I’m being hunted,” my friend said as I jumped to him, abandoning my neutral support pilots in Solitude.  I brought my main pilot up from Delve to provide another set of eyes.  Sure enough, we were being trailed.  While my friend plotted an alternate route, I flew my main pilot in a circuitous route in southern Fountain to confuse the scouts.  Around and around I flew, while my friend suggested my Hel take a couple gates to avoid an extra jump.  Sure, its friendly territory but my super pilot is neutral.  I felt my balls shrivel confronted with this prospect and shamefully decline.  My friend is a skymarshal, and I am inadequate.  We spend the extra hour and make it to our destination.  Our alliance has supposedly added our pilots to the access list, and my friend warps to a structure too small to dock, but hoping to get a tether.  “Let me go first, if I live you can follow” he says.  Sure enough, we make tether and safe logoff.  We will have to take a jumpgate to make it back to Delve, and that can wait for another day.  

That night I dreamt of warp tunnels and interdictor bubbles.  After work the next day my friend posts, “Log in to character screen.”  I have never taken a capital through a stargate, let alone a supercarrier.  I reply, “Comms?”  “Just chill, join the ops channel, I have a fleet”  I listen as the fleet heads home from their mission and the FC calls out, “Whoever wants to help out a retvet hero, stay in fleet.” They aren’t talking about me, but I do remember the cap fleets I led bashing structures a decade ago.  “Log in to character screen” comes the command.  “Login, align, warp, jump, jump, dock!”  My hands don’t shake as they did that first jump on the other side of New Eden, and for the first time since starting this game in 2008 I see my Hel docked in a keepstar.

Goondor Calls - The Reawakening

Steky grudgingly woke from a deep sleep and tried to open her eyes.  Instead of data from her retina, data streaming from her implants took its place. Planets and moons streamed by external cams as her ship warped.  Not remembering why this was so alarming, she wrenched herself the rest of the way awake and pinged her sensor arrays.  Where hostile ships in the local system? How long would the warp last?  Where would she land? Was the cloaking module ready?  How much capacitor?  Was the jump drive online?  As her ship dropped out of warp she scanned the vicinity.  Her ship was at a moon, and she remembered it as the location of an alliance station.  As she realized the friendly station was gone, she immediately searched for hostile ones.  The closest was at another moon.  With no immediate hostile engagement, Steky activated the cloaking device and exhaled as her ship phased out of visibility to local probes.  

Her communication systems pinged with a fleet invitation from Grievance.  "Wakey, wakey Steky! Fleet up and I will get you up to speed.  I've got eyes and this system for the last week and its currently empty of capsuleers except you and I.  No telling how long that will last though, so we have to get you out of here."

Steky's training kicked in and she held all her questions for later.  The ship's systems indicated a date that she couldn't actually accept, but if she had really been in cryo for a decade it would explain why so many systems flashing red.   "Jump drive is online," she replied.   There was a slight pause and Grievance shouted, "Jump!"  Steky arched her back and opened her mouth with the silent scream as she and the supercarrier that her mind commanded suddenly generated a boson sphere and tore through the folds of spacetime to a solar system many light-years away.

As soon as the star-field shimmered back into existence, her navigation system received a warp command and alarms blared.  The ship had been targeted and webbing fields formed around it.  Steky silenced the alarm as the seeming attack was coming from the fleet commander, a technique to help her mammoth ship to align for warp a bit faster.    A few very long seconds later as she watched for hostiles, her ship entered warp and landed at a safe spot away from the jump beacon.  She activated the cloak once more and sighed with relief.  

The fleet commander was silent on comms and she knew he was occupied with the potential destruction of his ship if a hostile entered the star system while his jump beacon was lit.  Tired from the strain of the FTL jump, she disconnected from her pod and crawled out onto the deck of the bridge to awaken the crew.  

Steky approached each cryopod with trepidation. As with the other systems, some of them flashed red, containing only the remaining biomass of the former crew member it once held.  As she awakened each squad commander, she merely shook her head at their questions that poured out after the retching that accompanied waking from extended cryosleep.  "We will have a crew meeting once I get answers."

Shocku watched as each ship pilot come online in the virtual command bridge he had setup for their meeting.  Grievance waved cheerily.  Rask grumbled that he had forgotten to turn autocycle off his jump beacon, doubling the length of time he had been vulnerable. "Well, your clone lived to tell the tale, didn't it," Grievance said laughing.   "What the fuck!" an angry Steky shouted as she came online.  Shocku looked at her with empathy, "I get it Steky, I'm sorry."  "A fucking decade on ice?!" she cursed.  Shocku's tone turned firm, "We all agreed ten years ago that it was time to go on ice.  Its all in the logs.  But things have changed. 

The horn of Goondor sounded, and I felt it necessary to wake the rest of you so we could come to our descendants' aid."  Shocku explained that Goonswarm was under attack from the rest of New Eden and had called out for retired pilots to come to assist the alliance in its struggle for survival in the Delve region.   "Delve?  We were in Deklein!" Steky exclaimed.  "Were." Shocku replied.  "Things have changed... alot." Steky shook her head, "What can we possibly do to help?"  Shocku laughed, "Well, you can bring your Hel!" 

  

Progression

Shocku writes a message to a friend who is a younger pilot:

It's a good idea to pick a ship and specialize in it. If a person jumps from ship to ship all the time, they will never get good at it. Every ship has it's strengths and weaknesses. Learn both and become a top notch pilot at that ship. Of course, you will go through several ships on the way as you learn it's weaknesses. :). It's also a good idea to specialize in an affordable ship.  

When I started as a capsuleer I wanted to specialize in fast ships. However, I kept getting killed. Now I can fly a vagabond reasonably well, but it's still a distictive style I am not an expert at yet. What is interesting is that there are generally lines of ship styles, starting with frigates, progressing through cruisers, and up to hacs and bs. 

The style line I have done best at is snipers, or range ships. I don't know if there is a sniper frigate, but the cruiser is the rupture, the battlecruiser is the hurricane, the hac is the muninn, and the bs is the tempest. When I was a newer pilot I flew the rupture because it has a long range and a good tank. You get to your range (usually 0 at a gate) and shoot. Now I fly the muninn. I carry both short and long range t2 ammo, and sensor booster scripts depending on the situation. With the muninn I try to get OFF the gate 70 to 100 km. Few hostiles can shoot that far, and so I rarely get targetted. So I slowly orbit at range raining death from afar. If I see an intercepter approaching or get targetted, I generally warp off and then come right back. 

Anyway, my point is:

1) Specialize and stick with a chosen 

Ship style

2) Figure out the progression and start with the inexpensive t1 cruiser so you can learn and afford the losses as you do. Examples: Short range speed tanks Stabber/Vagabond, long range snipes Rupture/muninn

3) Buy more than one, buy 3 to 6.  

Most pilots are idiots and the enemy knows it. They will buy the coolest most expenive ship they can buy and bring it to the front. They go out gung ho on the first fleet and lose it. Then they spend the next 3 days to a week trying to replace it. That's why the enemy pays for wardecs. They go to jita and get killed on the way back. By now they are so frustrated they JC back home to rat or don't log in for a couple weeks. 

The smart pilot resists peer pressure and brings half a dozen cheap T1 cruisers or bc and goes out on roam after roam not caring about his losses and learning from them. Once comfortable, he graduates to the same style of HACs ONLY when he can afford several of them. If he can't afford 3 or more, he doesn't fly them at all. There are industrials in our alliance who can bring fully fit ships to the front, just put in your order.   

Something New, Something Faction

Shocku brought his Machariel to rest in the ship maintenance bay of
Steky's carrier, the Cascade Essence. After a quick shower and pulling on a simple jumpsuit, he made his way down the access tube to the hangar. His face held a deeply creased frown as he met Steky. She put an arm around his waist and said, "cheer up boss, there was nothing you could have done. It was treachery pure and simple". She was referring to the recent loss of his vargur by a goon spy named Brainstem.

"Besides, on my trip to Jita I got you something fun to play with!"

Shocku struggled to show excitement but couldn't quite muster it. His expression changed however, when they entered the next bay. "Sweet mother..." and his jaw just hung open. "is that a...?" "Dramiel" she finished for him. "it's not fully fit because I didn't know how you would want it, but it has the basics."

Shocku looked at the frigate sized vessel, unlike anything he had seen before. It was built by the Angel Cartel, using a combination of Minmatar, Gallente, and quite possibly Jovian technology. Steky said, "If you can fly the Machariel, you can surely fly that, though I wouldn't do so right after lunch. They say it can do over 10 clicks per second on impulse!

Shocku smiled and they headed to the stateroom for dinner.

Treachery in the Rear

With the front in Providence winding down, Shocku decided the gang should return to the rear to make some money and build up their combat ships for the next war.  He contacted Steky and docked his Marauder class battleship in her carrier's ship bay.  While Steky jumped her carrier to a system where pirate faction anomalies had been detected, Shocku and his friend Laaj followed the jump gates.  Upon arrival, they had a conference aboard Steky's Cascade Essence.  Shocku went over the operation, "Number one rule, keep an eye on local. If a neutral comes into system, warp to the protection of a starbase immediately. 

After the briefing, the team proceeded to scan down an Angel Cartel Haven, and Shocku worked with Laaj providing instructions on when to deploy and recover drones, range of engagement, and other important aspects to prevent them from being overwhelmed by the Cartel.

Later that night, after Laaj turned in, Shocku engaged another one of the Cartel's havens.  While engaged with the pirates, Shocku's ship computer indicated it had picked up the transponder of a new friendly ship in the solar system with piloted by the call sign Brainstem.  Shock had seen Brainstem several times before in the area, but thought it odd that he would be this far remote in a reserved system.  He queried his ship's computer on the pilot, and found he was a member of Green Alliance.  Shocku decided at that point that the situation was probably fine and engaged the next group of pirate battleships.  The pilot would most likely leave shortly when he realized it was a reserved system, and Shocku transmitted, "Nothing to see here."

A few minutes later he frowned.  Brainstem was still in system.  Was he ratting here?  He would have to mention this to a director.  Just then, Brainstem's ship dropped out of warp next to the Marauder.  He was piloting a Rapier class covert ops ship, and his targeting computer had engaged Shocku's ship.  Something was not right. Shocku immediately hit the warp button as his ship was already aligned to the planet nearest the starbase. A message displayed across his overview indicating that the Brainstem had already disabled his warp drive.  Shocku cursed, "Was this some kind of practical joke?  It didn't matter, it wasn't funny, and Shocku immediately targeted the Rapier with all his guns and engaged Steky's fighters.  Suddenly, about six neutral transponders were reported in local, and he cursed, "Oh fuck!".  Shocku sent a message on his corporate channel, "Requesting backup in system".  He pondered if he should order Steky to warp in her carrier, but just then the hostiles dropped out of warp and deployed a warp interdiction field. A few seconds later a glance at his shields showed 20%.  It would be too late for Steky to warp in, lock him, and provide repairs to his armor, and best not provide another target to this treacherous enemy without backup from his corpmates.  All subsystems were now screaming warnings, his shields and armor both destroyed and his structure was failing.  Shocku stepped back from the situation and braced himself mentally, accepting that there was now nothing to be done now to save his marauder.   

It was cold and wet.  He heaved and pulled out the tube from his mouth and lifted himself out of the stasis chamber, pushing aside the medical personnel who tried to assist him.  His body naked, with tubes still dragging from various orifices, he stumbled to the nearest neocom and opened his corporate channel.  It was buzzing about the incident.  His director asked for information on the kill and Shocku immediately transmitted.  He then examined it himself as he tried to go over the event in his mind.  Did the data recorders show Brainstem as blue?  Had he been mistaken?  He kept trying to figure out where he had errored in the situation that cost him his ship, the first time in years while fighting faction pirates.  Shocku transmitted, "Mates, I am sorry about my failure tonight, I will try to learn from it." 

"You didn't fail Shocky, it was treachery.  There was no way you could have known, and nothing you could have done once you did."  Sure enough, the logs showed Brainstem was listed as friendly and having had disrupted his warp drive.  Shocku's corpmates were sending condolences and expressing outrage at the corporation who admitted a Goon spy.   Shocku wondered why a spy would out himself over a marauder, and then laughed.  Sure, it had been his most expensive ship. Sure, it hurt to lose it. But it was not that great of a percentage of Shocku's assets, and it was certainly not worth blowing a spy's cover.  The goons were fools. At least now the spy could not damage Atlas during the next campaign, so perhaps his loss was worth the loss.

His director transmitted a message, "Shocku, I have contacted the corporation that admitted the spy, demanding reimbursement for your loss. If they don't pay, some hotdrops will be in order.  The records show that pilot's clone had been sold to another entity, and they readmitted him to their corp without vetting the application."

"Aye boss."  Drops of stasis fluid were dripping onto the screen and Shocku's hands were shaking.  As he pulled a robe over him and headed for some rest, he felt better about the loss knowing his corpmates were behind him. 

Jumplife Chapter 1

 

Haika ran lightly through the narrow maintenance corridor. Its walls were mostly covered with conduits that carried nanites and coolant outward to the ship's hull.  A few years ago some maintenance work had been done on a section of the Nomad class freighter's hull, and she knew that access tube had never been removed.  A ship this size, with a crew compliment of almost 7000 lives having been docked for almost a decade, almost became part of the station.  Still, she had to know her way around, and get her timing right, to avoid the official checkpoints disembarking. Haika looked over her shoulder, and then quickly checked the air pressure on the console before opening the airlock and beginning her descent through the access tube. It wasn't as if she was breaking any rules by leaving the ship, she just didn't want her parents to know how often.

Haika ran down the Level 9 Street 477 of Jita Station and almost tumbled over the cleaning bot as she approached the entry portal.  She swiped her hand over the access panel and Luko's face appeared. 

"What are you doing here?  Your parents will be pissed if they find out!"

"I got it! I got it! Let me in!"

She brushed a lock of tightly curled hair out of her excited face.  The door hissed open and she practically lept into Luko's arms. 

Finally she released him and waved the datachip "I was accepted to the JU!"

"Oh congrats!" and he hugged her tight once again.

"This means we can be together, Luko."

"You mean you intend to go stationside?"

"Why wouldn't I?  The ship has been parked here more than a decade.  Why should I study by net if I can go to class with you?  After all, you can carry my netpad!"

Luko looked at the floor.  "But your father, he will say..."

Haika put a finger on his lips, and then replaced it with her own.  Later, as they floated twisted in each other's arms over the gravbed, Haika thought about how she would tell her parents that she wanted to study stationside.  She knew they would come up with all sorts of ridiculous arguments about tradition and culture, and what would happen if this or that.  Despite that, she was certain they just had to be proud of her and would eventually cave. 

The next day, Haika walked into her father's office. "Hey Pops!" 

"How is my little girl today?" He grinned as he looked up. 

Haika put her arms around him and gave him a big hug, "Well.... there is something I want to tell you."

"Hmm... What could that be?  Perhaps that the station crew neglected to remove the access tube to hull section 1047?"  Maalik grinned as Haika stood there with her mouth open. He relished any time he could spend with his daughter, and these days those times were fewer and farther between.  It was not like when she was a little and would spend hours just playing on the floor of his office. "Do you think I would keep my job as First Officer if I didn't know the comings and goings on this ship?  Sit down, tell me what's up."

 "You know how you have always encouraged me to not only do my best, but also to pursue my dreams, right Daddy?"

"Of course, you know I just want you to be happy."

"I took the JU entrance exam."

"Maalik raised an eyebrow, "Jita University? Honey, you know your metrics are good enough for officer training, or any number of university curricula the ship has licensed."

"I want to study stationside, Dad."

"We have talked about this honey, and even if you did pass the entrance exam, you know the stationside program would be too much risk.  We might get commissioned right in the middle."

Haika's face contorted, "Dad, this ship hasn't left its moorings since I was a little girl! Besides, I passed!" She placed the data chip on his desk and the document flashed onto the glass surface, complete with the colorful seal of Jita.

Maalik looked at the document, and when his eyes moved back to hers they were blinking away tears and he was trying to smile, "I am so proud of you."  He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her close.  He knew his daughter was smart and ambitious, but he had always thought it was a father's bias.  Now it was confirmed.  How many Thukkers had been admitted to the Caldari University of Jita? He touched the Thukker tattoo on her face, "Just remember who you are, and keep your bags packed."  Haika rolled her eyes, "You mean repack them. I don't think the 13 year old clothes in them now would fit anymore.  I will be graduated before this ship goes anywhere Daddy!"

Haika gave him a kiss and then ran for the door as he answered an incoming comm.  Just before she closed it she heard him call out, "You get to explain this to your mother!"  Haika groaned.

"This is a capsuleer piloted ship!" her mother almost hissed at Haika and her father sitting at the table in their family quarters.  Her eyes moved from Haika to Maalik accusingly, "And you are the First Officer, you know what that means!" Nobody had to say that it meant the ship, which had sat in drydock for most of the last decade, could drop its moorings and undock with but a few seconds notice, perhaps never to return and certainly not for many years due to the affects of relativity and faster than light travel.  The two adults understood this on a practical level, and therefore had made few close acquaintances stationside despite the years they had been here.  It was the Thukker way to stay with those who shared the nomadic life of deep space travel.  But for Haika , yet a teenager, it was merely theoretical. Her mother reached out and touched the Thukker tattoo on the left side of Haika's cheek.  "This is who you are my girl; I cannot make you see any more clearly that which looks back at you in the mirror." Tears streamed down woman's cheeks, "But I am so proud of you, and you must make your own decision."

Maalik looked at his screen and called up his calendar for the day.  He didn't need it to remember that today he was off duty early to meet Haika for lunch at the University stationside.  It was "Parent's Day" or something like that.  His daughter was already in her third semester, and was making excellent grades.  He then turned to his messages. Along with the usual reports from the crew chiefs, some personal messages, and one from a woman named Steky was one from the ship owner's agent.  They normally met once a month. Usually anything outside of that routine meant a potential buyer had a question.  Maalik gestured at the agent's message first, and a 3d vid of his face appeared over the desk, "Maalik!  We have to meet quickly.  Call me asap!"  Maalik groaned.  Every time some halfhearted buyer had a question about the ship, the agent thought it an emergency hoping for the sale.  Usually it was some dimwit who wanted to know if capacitor rechargers could be fit, which of course they could not.

Maalik moved his finger to the screen to initiate the call to the ship's agent when it chimed with an incoming call. The originator was someone named Steky.  Beneath her name was the insignia of Atlas Alliance, and a chill went up his spine.  He had never received a direct call from someone in one of the alliances that operated outside the boundaries of the Empire.  His finger shook as he activated the call. 

A graceful female Minmatar face appeared and she smiled, "I assume you are the First Officer of the Burgeoning Intent?"

"Yes Ma'am, I am. What can I do for you?"

"You can meet me at 16.00 on the bridge.  The ship's agent will pass along a message to bring along a full report of your ship's systems and crew departments. What I called to ask was that you also come prepared to discuss the crew's moral and readiness, things that will never appear on paper."

"Yes Ma'am, I will do so." Maalik's mind raced at the implications of this meeting and request.  Was this lady a capsuleer?  Was she legit? If so, he would never make Parent's day...

"Very well, I will see you then.... oh, and Maalik.  Don't breathe a word of this meeting to anyone. Our lives may depend on it." The screen went dark. 

At first Maalik started thinking about what he would need to do and who aboard ship he would need to query to prepare his report, and then he suddenly panicked.  If Steky was a capsuleer, and if she was concerned about readiness, it could mean only one thing.  She was purchasing the vessel.  And Haika and his wife were not aboard!

Maalik put initiated a call to his wife who was stationside at Jita University with Haika .  His call went to messaging, she was probably preoccupied.  He typed out a text that could not be misinterpreted, and used his official rank to send it via the emergency channel. He would probably receive a fine when the message couldn't be correlated with a civil incident report, but it didn't matter. It was the only thing that would get his family back to the ship without a long explanation that he could not give across a public channel.

Haika and her mother came out of the concert hall and blinked.  It felt a bit like surfacing from a dive, the hall's simulation of the ocean depths of the planet Oricon were so complete.  She could still hear the echos of the songs sung by the sentient inhabitants of the water depths. "Mom, did you see the expression in the eyes of the last performer?"

"Yes, and to think his species is now extinct."

"What happened to them?"

"Capsuleers descended on their planet and installed gas extraction sites. They removed so much of the oxygen and nitrogen from the atmosphere that the temperature of the oceans rose, destroying the ecosystem."

"But how can they?  What gives them the right?!"

Her mother began to reply matter-of-factly, "The Oricon system is beyond the reach of the empire my dear, where the capsuleers make their own law." Then she noticed the tears in her daughter's eyes and softened her tone, "Oh sweetie..." Her words cut off mid phrase as both women suddenly got a distant look in their eyes.  Their comm implants displayed the following text across their retinas.

MEDICAL EMERGENCY ABOARD BURGEONNING INTENT. REPORT FIRST OFFICER QUARTERS IMMEDIATELY.

Haika cried, "Pappa!" and both women ran for the nearest transport. 

The Nomad

Steky took the transport tube from the station hangar to the Nomad Class Jump Freighter.  The interior of the translucent plexisteel had indicators where you could swipe your hand to turn portions of the wall transparent. This was seldom done, as the spherical transport rotated swiftly to counteract the g-forces as it wound its way through the station and across the umbilical to the great ship. It was so precise that so long as you couldn't see, the ride felt like a standard elevator in a planetside high rise. 
 
The hatch opened and Steky stepped out onto what appeared to be a balcony overlooking the vast docking bay of the station hangar.  There was a complex system of automated docking equipment for cargo containers, but she didn't see any ships.  In fact, the entire bay was empty besides the equipment.
 
"Where are the ships? Where is the nomad?"
 
The sales agent looked at her with a quizzical expression on his face, "Pilot, you are aboard the Nomad."
 
Steky gripped the steel support, even though thick plexisteel separated her from the dizzying drop of thousands of feet and her face turned pale.  The sense of scale was something she had never experienced firsthand, not only because she had not piloted a ship of this magnitude, but because her person had been isolated in her pod and senses extended through the neural network of the ships she piloted.  Now she stood disconnected, and had to take in the vast size of the Nomad's cargo bay through her naked senses. 
 
She consciously released her grip on the support, and took asserted her control over both herself and the situation, ordering the first officer to report to the bridge.  Turning on her heel, she stepped back into the transport.
 
"First Officer... is it Soderstrom?"
 
"Aye Captain, but you can call me Lars"
 
"I am not your Captain yet, Lars, but send me a report on the condition of this ship by 1900 hours. Make sure it is complete and honest, because you don't want to have to revise it after I become your captain.  If your report indicates that the ship is in less than satisfactory condition, and I do not make the purchase, I am sure that your current employer will be less than pleased with you." Steky gave the agent a sharp eye.  "In that case enough funds will be wired to your account that you won't need to work for some time, and I will provide you and your family a private shuttle to another system.  If your report is inaccurate, the shuttle you take will deliver your remains to your family."
 
First Officer Soderstrom saluted, and went off to prepare his report.
 
Steky turned to the agent, "If his report is acceptable, the funds will be wired to escrow by 2400 hours. I will be performing my own inspection in the meantime."
 
"Of course, Pilot. I will return to my offices to await your decision"
 
Steky pulled on a set of crewman's overalls and spent the next 8 hours inspecting the important subsystems of the ship in person, starting with the engine room and capacitor control section.  Nobody noticed her, and she listened to their conversations to try to judge the moral of the crew for herself.
 
At 18.47 the First Officer transmitted his report.  It included subsections from the various bureaucratic heads aboard the ship.  The crew aboard this particular Nomad consisted mostly of Minmatar Thukkers.  They were culturally conditioned for life aboard a jumpship, which was important to peaceful and efficient operation.  The crew consisted of 3,721 crew with 5,764 dependents for a total of almost 10,000 lives aboard.  As the ship's capsuleer, Steky was chief executive but would rarely interact with what amounted to a town government, complete with legislative and judicial branches. If the ship's social government did its job properly that is.  The ship officers formed the executive branch, and it was their responsibility to ensure that all systems aboard the ship were maintained in top working order to function on command from the pilot. 
 
Life aboard a jumpship is unlike anywhere else, mostly due to the practical considerations of jump travel.  Once a person joined such a ship, it was usually for life... and the lives of their families and children.  For if one disembarked, they would forever lose contact with their loved ones that remained aboard, their destinies branching into separate timestreams the moment the ship took its next jump.  Due to relativity, months or even years would pass for those that disembarked, in what was a short milk run for the jumpship between regions of the galaxy. For parents, it was particularly difficult to leave a child at university, and at the next station receive message transmissions that the student had graduated, married, or had children of their own.  For this reason one often found multiple generations of crew serving aboard a ship like the Nomad. 
 
Steky's thoughts returned to the report.  The crew was relatively light. It had been docked in Jita for several years and 7.4 percent of the crew had taken other employment during that time.  They had not been replaced as the ship was waiting for sale.  Otherwise, there had been no recent upheaval aboard, and all the ship's subsystems were in excellent condition.  Lars, the First Officer, did make a note that the ship had served as a ferry between gated systems in empire, and that few aboard had much experience operating or maintaining the ship's jumpdrive. That said, it had been maintained according to specifications and the maintenance schedule.  Lars warned that even he hadn't jumped in more than a decade, but was up to the challenge if the Captain had confidence in him.
 
Steky smiled and sent her final approval for the sale to both the sales agent and the escrow company.  She was amazed to see the reply message appear almost instantly with the transfer codes to the ship computer.  She entered the code, and immediately her name appeared on the header of the console and over the archway to the stateroom.  She sent out the message to prepare for jump in 24 hours.  It was time the crew start learning about life in Atlas.

Alliance Connections

 Shocku looks over his maps and recent intel data and comes across this diagram showing connections between alliances. He sets a panel of the wall in his stateroom to display the image so he can refer to it whenever looking at a pilot's info, corp, and alliance...

A Large Deposit

The door hissed open as Steky entered the stateroom aboard the Cascade Essence, her Nidhoggur class carrier.   Most pilots would be in luxurious quarters in the station, and while those where available to her while docked, she preferred her stateroom aboard ship. She plopped down on the gravbed, and unsealed the inseam of her boots with a swipes of her fingers, then tossing them to the corner.  She was tired from hauling station fuel and moon minerals to and from her moon harvesting silos and stations.  ATLAS Alliance was at peace, and it was time to make hay while the sun shines. 

Out of the corner of her eye she saw two small blinking icon on her neocom, one was a message notification from her bank. Steky pushed down on the matress with her slender arms, pushing herself up and over towards the neocomm.  She could have ordered the message delivered audibly from her bed, but she wanted to puruse the list of newly released vids for something to watch before bed.  She touched the icon on her screen and the message displayed "Notification of Deposit to your account: 6,200,000,000 Interstellar Kredits.  Her jaw dropped and she almost paniced.  Most people never saw an interstellar kredit in their lifetimes.  It was a currency used by governments, corporations engaged in interstellar trade, and of course capsuleers.  Six billion kredits was a sum most capsuleers never saw, and had to be the result of either a mistake or foul play that would surely result in the need for lawyers and body guards for the foreseeable future, even if there was a plausible explanation.  

Steky groaned and immediately opened her bank account, clicked the security option, and then initiated a freeze on her accounts. Whatever investigation was to follow, it wouldn't do to complicate the matter with further transactions.  Hopefully she had enough wine aboard to last her awhile!  She then put in a transmission to Shocku, her employer.  Perhaps he would have some ideas on what to do next.  

Shocku's image, and that of a young petite blonde lit up the center of the room.  His arm was wrapped around her waist as she appeared to be half heartedly pulling away from him to get out of scope of the virtual recorder. "What is it Steky?" Shocku asked, a glitter in his eye.  
"I have a serious problem, Shock"
"You have a lot of work to do, but I wouldn't call that a problem, I know you can do it and you have the training." Shock bend down and kissed the girl's pert nipple, biting it and making her yelp and thrash in his arms, her blonde hair rippling over her shoulders.  
"Look, I am not talking about work, I am talking about a problem with my bank account, and I need your attention. Its serious!" Steky blinked away a tear of frustration. 
Shocku raised an eyebrow and made eye contact with her through the vid, "I see you read your bank notification before my own." He released the blonde and she immediately moved out of scope.  

"Ok Steky, let me explain.  There is nothing wrong with your bank account. ATLAS is currently not at war, and I can't remember the last time that happened.  We need to get serious about our industrial operations, because we will never be able to support capital operations on bounty hunting alone.  I want you to take your moon mining operations to the next level.  We are currently mining two moons, and have a simple reactor in operation churning out Vanadium Hafnite.  I want you to complete the other half of the equation, and bring it all together in a complex reactor to produce intermediate alloys.  Once we have that set up, we will be printing isk while we sleep... and even if we deploy to fight the Northern Coalition.  

Steky lifted her hands in the air, "But I am run ragged just trying to run fuel from empire and empty two moon stations!"
Shocku grinned, "That's why you need a Jump Freighter"
"What?  We don't even have a jump freighter, thats like a supercapital!"
"Aren't you trained to fly one?"
"Sure, but that was just on a simulator!  How could we ever afford to buy one?"
Shocku said sarcastically, "Check your bank account" and then looked at her seriously, Take care of it, I trust you."
With that he signed off. 
Steky laid down on her gravbed and didn't bother turning it on.  She wasn't going to sleep anyway. 

Moon Goo

Steky checked the bounty on the last battleship in the Angel Haven Grievance had sent her the coordinates for. It was less than a million Interstellar kredits. She cursed as the structural integrity of the Angel ship gave way under the onslaught of her carrier's fighters. It was a waste. She was not concerned with the lives of the crew aboard the Angel Cartel ships she was destroying. Each of the 2000 lives aboard that last battleship had chosen a life of crime. Her mind was more occupied with numbers and risk analysis. Her carrier was worth about 1.5 Billion Kredits, and it was a risk each time she took it out. And the time it took to earn a few tens of millions was mind numbingly boring.

 

She thought once again about her starbase equipment sitting in storage and checked the prices of moon alloys. Prices were going up because the new technologies alliances now used for strategic control of solar systems no longer required starbases to be anchored around the moons. It was a large capital investment to deploy starbases, and they required frequent refueling.  But they would mine the moons while she slept, and while she was awake she could spend her time defending alliance space rather than bounty hunting.  Steky dispatched a message to her CEO, Scrapple, and then orders to Grievance to begin exploration.

 

Grievance fit an expanded probe launcher to his Typhoon and set out.  It wasn't an ideal exploration ship.  He would have preferred something faster and more nimble.  But the survey probes took up a lot of cargo space, and he couldn't be bothered to try to find and fit a faster ship. First he checked the FMH solar system where Steky had occupied moons before just after ATLAS took the region.  He grumbled seeing they had new owners, but it was to be expected.  He set course to another system, a deadend that an old friend had once mined, and found several corp mates had starbase towers in that system as well.  After chatting a bit, they gave him some tips and he went to check out the moons in a couple nearby systems.  He grinned as the moon probe returned its data from the surface of the otherwise desolate looking celestial body.  The mineral Hafnium was reported in minable quantities.  A few systems over, Grievance found Vanadium, the other mineral needed for the reactor.  He relayed the information to Steky, and parked his ship in orbit around the Hafnium moon.

 

Steky woke and checked her neocom. No messages from the CEO, and he was not on comms.  The two moons Grievance had identified winked in the air over her charting table.  She needed to claim them quickly before someone else happened to notice them.  She put in a call to one of the directors and explained the situation.  He said he would give her roles long enough to put up a starbase control tower until the CEO got back to make a decision.  Steky ordered the carrier to jump back to the 77S Solar system and docked her carrier.  She quickly loaded a small Angel Control Tower, Moon Harvester, Silo, and an artillery battery into a Mammoth class hauler, along with the minimum fuel requirements and ammunition.

 

The crack of Steky's pistol rang off the walls of the bridge and the crew assembled jumped back as the body of the foreman slumped to the floor, the back of his head splattered on the wall behind him. "Now, who else has a problem manning the harvesting operation?"  The crewmen trembled and tried to pry their eyes off their boss on the floor to look at the capsuleer.  Nobody breathed a word.  Already the mess began to disappear as the automated cleaning bots performed their function.  In a few moments he would only be a memory.  steky cursed, "Is there any difference between hauling salvage from pirate wrecks?  Its not like you will be stuck out here indefinitely.  There will be hauler runs every few days for fuel and minerals and I will be glad to ferry your families for visits and shore leave as well." She holstered her pistol, the borderline mutiny had been snipped in the bud.  She promoted the most competent crewmember to foreman, and a few others to assist him.  They saluted and headed off to their new duties, along with tales of both horror and wonder at their boss who delivered both death and riches upon them like a god.

 

Barqs queried over the comms, "How's it going?"  Steky replied, "Good, onlining structures now."  She muttered as she offlined the harvester and silo again, and coded them for Hafnium, a step she had forgotten.  Her skills were rusty and she had to do the job of the former foreman. Soon they were back online and she linked the harvester to the silo.  As the arrays began powering up, she double checked everything.  There was fuel to power operations for four days.  That should be enough time to square things up with Scrapple, at which time she would fuel the control tower for a month.  She transmitted to Barqs the job was complete and collapsed in her quarters.  Tomorrow another tower for Vanadium... and the reactor.  She fell asleep dreaming of the angry foreman's face covered with moon goo.

Sensory Input

Shocku thought the command, picked up by his neural implant and racing at the speed of light through the optical network of his Rapier class ship's systems.  Everything went dark except heavily shielded life support systems in his capsule. It was nerve wracking to be suspended in ink black fluid with no sensory input.  If a meteoroid was about to pierce the hull of his ship, there would be no way for him to know until it was too late. But it was the only way, and even then it was a long shot. 

An enemy spacecraft plied this solar system, engaging and destroying the Angel Cartel pirates and collecting their resources in the asteroid belts.  Shocku could care less about the Cartel and its resources, but he wanted to deprive the enemy of the ability to profit from systems within Atlas territory. 

 

He counted the minutes, hoping he would be lucky and the enemy spacecraft would warp to the asteroid belt where his covert operations ship floated dark and quiet.  There was no way to tell without powering up his systems, and those would create a subspace signature the enemy ship would immediately detect as a spacecraft within the local system. 

 

Shocku counted and waited...  Suddenly he powered up the Rapier and immediately scanned the belt. The signature of a Drake was detected, but it immediately cloaked.  Shocku wondered if the Drake was piloted by man or machine.  He deployed drones, activated his micro warp drive, and set his trajectory towards the last known location of the drake.  Nothing, luck was not with him tonight.  Well, at least he had disrupted the enemy's operations this evening. 

 

Cloaking his ship a safe distance from the nearest belt, Shocku drained and disconnected his implants from his pod.  Feeling his lungs begin to heave, he doubled up and clenched his diaphragm, discharging the perfluorocarbons from his lungs in a long choking vomit.  Gasping, he grabbed a robe and headed to the captain's quarters for a shower.

 

As the warm steam shower washed his skin clean, Shocku smiled as the door to the vestibule slowly opened.  The slender girl entered tentatively at his approving nod and wrapped her arms around his midriff, pressing her warm body up to his.  Though he could not recall her name, he did remember her description from the electronic procurement forms he had signed before leaving the Ambrosia station in the AXDX solar system.  For once, the contents of a contract in New Eden were exactly as advertised.  He tangled his fingers amongst her blonde locks as her lips slid down from his navel.  Not a single implant jack marred the back of her scalp.  He would be her only source of sensory input this night in their far flung region of darkened space.

One Lonely Sentry

Steky walked briskly into the briefing room aboard the Cascade Essence, a Nidhoggur class carrier. Her boots clanked against the metal deck as her assembled officers quickly rose to attention. She brushed an insubordinate lock of hair from her eyes and called out "As you were!" The fighter pilots, drone control officers, hanger controllers, and other deck officers sat back down in the leather seats and listened. They were no longer milk run carrier officers, and now had the discipline and bearing of soldiers with combat experience. The Cascade Essence had participated in Atlas' capital battle for HZF against Legion of Death, Pandemic Legion, and others. Not only had she survived the battle, taking down numerous enemy dreadnoughts, but they had proceeded to destroy dozens of enemy station towers in the Detorid region.

The briefing began. Atlas was seiging the last remaining enemy holdout in Deterid, the solar system designated 77S8-E. Steky went over the lessons from previous engagements, reminding the sentry drone officers not to deploy after coming out of warp at an enemy tower until the carrier was moving less than 20km per second. The navigation officers were to ensure that the ship maintained range with the enemy tower in case her attention was elsewhere. The pilot could control any subsystem at the speed of thought, but even so her attention had limited bandwidth.

Suddenly Steky stopped in mid word and then called out, "Battlestations!" The lights went red and the men and women scrambled. The Atlas fleet commander had ordered capitals to undock and jump to a cynosaural field in the 77S8 solar system. As the carrier left the station hangar, the space around the station was cluttered with dreadnoughts and carriers. It was a wonder that the station's traffic control system could manage.

Suddenly the fabric of space rippled as the capital ships engaged their jump drives and the stars winked out. Steky quickly shifted to a camera drone within the engine room. Looking the view from the external cams mid jump would be like trying to look out the back of your head, through eyes that weren't there. It lasted only a second or two, and then space was suddenly filled with the glowing rings of a giant gas planet and the shimmering light reflecting off the hulls of over 100 dreadnoughts hanging in space above the rings like an overturned box of jewelery.

The fleet warped to the first enemy tower and the crew ran the ship like a well oiled machine. The sentry drones deployed with their giant rifles hurling explosive warheads through the shields into the control tower. A few minutes later the fleet commander called for a carrier to light a cynosaural field so that more dreads could jump into system. Steky grimaced and acknowledged his request. It would mean that her carrier would be unable to move out of the cyno field for ten full minutes.

About 7 minutes later an enemy stealth bomber dropped out of warp amongst the capital fleet. Steky immediately started locking the tiny ship, but it took the computers what seemed an eternity to lock onto it. In that time the bomber deployed its bombs. The damage they did was insignificant to the capitals, but did enough damage to the sentry drones that three of them were unable to engage their propulsion systems. The enemy tower suddenly began burning ozone and went into reinforced mode. There was nothing more to be done until its ozone supply was depleted some hours later. As soon as her cynosaural field was down, the fleet warped to the next engagement. Steky engaged her warp drive just as two of the three damaged drones made it back to the hangar. One lonely sentry remained behind, its propulsion systems fragged beyond repair.

The Gray Waters of Morality

Grievance set his comm system to transmit queries on regular intervals to any other human ships that might have entered the unknown system through the same or other wormholes. The queries offered ISK to any pilot who could give the location of a wormhole out. After several weeks of fighting sleepers, their ragtag fleet was low on supplies.

Suddenly a transmission came through from a human Buzzard class craft. "Coordinates of a wormhole transmitting" Grievance entered them into the navigation computer and engaged the warp drive. They landed near a tiny wormhole that appeared near collapse just after the Buzzard disappeared through it. There was a distinct possibility that it would not support the mass of his ship, let alone the rest of their small fleet. Darkside's battleship would certainly not make it. Grievance had not only his own crew, but also the six thousand man crew of Darkside's ship to think about. He had to get out in order to guide a corp mate with a prober back to the wormhole to guide Dark's battleship out.

Grievance saw Voyk's Thorax and Daniel's pod drop out of warp next to the wormhole. He had anticipated the possibility of this scenario the moment he accepted the others to his fleet. The capsuleer parted the gray waters of morality and space with the knife of energy transmitted by his warp disruptor at Voyk's ship.

Voyk's Thorax met the challenge and burned towards him, his lasers flashing into the Rupture's shields. Grievance activated his autocannons and loosed his drones on the Thorax. Looking with concern as the shields dropped along with the range to the Thorax, Grievance was concerned that his long range barrage cannons would be able to track and pulsed his micro warpdrive. It was not needed as he could clearly see that the Thorax armor was melting much faster than his own, and he hadn't even activated his repper yet. "He transmitted a message to Voyk's pod emerging from the crumbling ship, "Safe journeys" knowing full well that only the capsuleer would awaken in a clone vat as his crew boiled and froze in the unknown space of a distant galaxy. Voyk transmitted, "Good flying" just before his pod burst under the autocannons. Daniel's pod was next, some men could never bring themselves to self destruct and face death even though they knew their clone would awaken once again. Death was death.

As debris floated around the Rupture and began to swirl around the event horizon of the tiny wormhole, Grievance transmitted to Darkside, "I will be back, God willing"

As his ship fell through the liquid watercolors and came out on the other side, Grievance watched his navigation computers with hope turned to acid as they reported, "Unknown Constellation. Unknown System. Uncharted Planets..."

The Unknown

Grievance almost lost his stomach as his ship came to rest. His navigation computer flashed "Unknown Solar System... Unknown Constellation... Uncharted Planet" Space rippled around him again as the other ships in their fleet arrived. Grievance warped to a planet and marked safe spots en route should he need a random point in space to escape from any threat. He then began scanning. Many anomalies showed up, and he called out to the fleet, "I have some kind of dead space installation on scan, shall we check it out?" Daniel and Voyk responded "Aye" and he warped the squad to the unknown installation.

As they dropped out of warp, Grievance saw an enormous installation with two frigate and two cruiser sized spacecraft of unknown type lying dead in space. He looked around and saw asteroids composed of valuable minerals in the vicinity. Suddenly, the unknown craft came to life, as if awakened from a long sleep. His ship was instantly locked and missile spat from tubes that were obviously launchers. Grievance immediately called "Battlestations!" and activated the Damage Control teams. He then selected a nearby planet and began alignment sequence. Only then did he lock the unknown craft with his targetting computer and activate his guns. A bright flash of plasma momentarily blinded his plasma gun as Daniel's ship exploded next to him.

A missile struck and Grievance watched as his shield fell to 55% from the single strike. Fortunately his autocannons were eating into the Sleeper's armor. Another missile hit their aft section, and shields collapsed. Damage control teams were already busy mitigating damage to the ship's armor and hull. A Sleeper frigate melted under his fire and Griev initiated warp to the nearby planet. Only by warping back several times was he able to destroy the sleepers and loot their wrecks of what appeared to be ancient databanks.

His cargohold full of artifacts retrieved from the Sleeper wrecks, Grievance called for Daniel's pod and Voyk's Thorax cruiser to head back to the wormhole. As they dropped out of warp, a fleet of battleships flashed onto his overview. Paying his tiny cruiser no mind, they entered the wormhole causing space to melt and splash like a pebble thrown into a pond. Suddenly it was as if a bubble burst and the wormhole was gone. Grievance called Cobra on the comm and asked his location,

"Oh, I am outside, I went back to station to get some supplies" replied Cobra cheerily.

Grievance's tone was flat, "The wormhole collapsed"

"Oh well, you are outside, aren't you?

"Inside" Grievance switched from the corporate comm to fleet. The corp might as well be in another galaxy, for in fact they were.

"Any of you have a probe launcher?" Grievance hoped that at least they might find another wormhole leading back to somewhere in New Eden. Both Darkside and Voyk responded negative.

"Then we are fucked!"

Liquid Watercolors

Grievance listened to his corp mates intercepting another automated hauler in Yong and rolled his eyes. Not worth even undocking. He turned his attention to the current events on the news comm. Anomalies were not only destroying planets, but seemed to be opening up wormholes to systems in distant galaxies. Some had gone through, and encountered strange and powerful technologies. Suddenly a transmission came in from Cobra Khan on the Maverick Navy channel, "Hey guys, I have a wormhole on scan... anyone want to come help me check it out?" Grievance raised his eyebrow, this was something new, something important. He engaged the transmitter, "This is Griev, 19 jumps out and on my way!"

Grievance engaged his warp drive to the vicinity of the wormhole. Several moments later, his Rupture dropped out of warp and he saw something that had not been seen by men in New Eden for thousands of years, when the Eve wormhole colapsed. This event sent his ancestores into the dark ages, destined to claw their way back up to the stars all over again the hard way.

"What do you think?" asked Cobra.

"Do you have any probes?"

"You bet, over one hundred"

"Well, then we should be able to find our way out... if the way out lasts long enough." Grievance thought about the possible mystery, wonder, and possible riches of being one of the first men in New Eden to explore a wormhole.

Two other ships from the local system joined their fleet, along with another corp mate Darkside.

Grievance opened the internal ship comms to his crew, "Whoever does not want to follow our ancestors into the unknown may take escape pods off the ship now and report back to corporate headquarters without repercussions." He watched the ship systems and not one pod activated. Grievance laughed, proud of his crew, "Alrighty then Mavs, Penis up!"

He set his ship on approach to the gravity well and the world turned to liquid watercolors.

Don't cry, its just your spaceship!

Shocku watched the emptiness of space through the lens of his camera drone. The Storm of Intent, a Tempest class battleship, hung motionless within the protective shield of the Control Tower just off a moon in the O-9 solar system of the Paragon Soul region of the galaxy. His ship was fully manned for station bashing operations, but a Goon fleet had been sighted in a nearby system so Shocku's fleet was regrouping.

Staring at the infinite reaches of mostly empty space around them, he suddenly zoomed in on a region of space near the shield. A Pilgrim class recon was dropping out of warp right at the edge. Shocku heard other pilots cursing over the neocom that the pilgrim managed to warp before they could do any significant damage. He pondered for a moment, then gave an order to the his edgy crew, "Load short range Quake ammo in all artillery guns!". The short range high damage ammo was seldom used as the ship was fit for sniping from range. Shocku carried a thousand rounds of Quake within the hold anyway in case he was engaged on a stargate while traveling.

Again the overview lit up as the Pilgrim descended out of warp a second time just outside the shields of the alliance station. The Fleet Commander called for tacklers and Shocku thought of his Minmatar slave girl and her Rifter. Unfortunately her duties had kept her in station in the TPAR system this night. Shocku cleared his mind and double checked the range settings programmed into his navigation computer. He initiated auto pilot instructions as his the support ships made short work of the Pilgrim. The lumbering Tempest seemed to almost groan as it fired thrusters and began to move to the edge of the shield. Soon the prow and the guns were outside the shimmering shields as thrusters kept the ship just on the edge.

As he had expected would happen, his overview suddenly lit up with a ball of red Goon ships just a few short kilometers from where his own battleship sat exposed outside the edge of the shield. This was what he had come for. The Fleet Commander called out primaries and neural commands flew at the speed of light from the implants in Shocku's skull to the gunnery centers aboard his ship. The guns went hot and the instant the targeting computers locked the enemy battleship, his tempest shuddered as 6 massive 1400mm rounds flew with incredible velocity from his ship to the enemy, shattering the elecrocrystalline barrier of its shields almost instantly. Shocku smiled at his decision only hours earlier to request Vince bring an additional gyrostabilizer. Now it made all the difference.His ship would rely on the station shield bubble rather than hardeners the gyro replaced.

Shocku saw multiple targets locking him as volley after volley of 1400mm artillery rounds pounded gaping holes in the enemy ship's armor. He grimaced in slight irritation as the Fleet Commander repeatedly queried the status of the enemy ship, and replied..

"Enemy armor 50%"...
"Enemy armor depleted, in structure..."

Shocku glanced at his own shields, which were holding strong despite at least half a dozen targets locking him on the overview.

"Enemy in deep structure..."

The aperture of his drone camera lens automatically contracted as the shattered enemy antimatter drive went critical and detonated, flashing dark space to white light. The Goon's pod was also quickly eliminated seconds later.

Chuckling, he looked through the local com logs for early comms from his victim taunting the alliance fleet commander. He copied the Goon pilot's own words and transmitted them to the clone facility where they would surely be read when the goon's clone was awakened, "Don't cry, its just your spaceship!"

Captured in Space

The news spread through the stations like wildfire, screams of joy rang out all about and as they did so did the pandemonium as thousands of slaves heard the news of their release from the oppression of the Amarrians.

Simploria looked to her friends, her jaw dropping as the news registered. "We are freed?" "Yes!! FREE!!!" They screamed and hugged each other tightly and danced and cheered. Then, suddenly, in the midst of their celebrations and reverie of imaginings of what is to come, the thought of the injections occurred to her, a spreading dread overcoming her as she sunk to her knees before her friends. "What to do? The shots!!!"

For years they have been injected as a form of control, with a virus that would be fatal if they were not continuously injected with antidote by their masters.

Though she was still in the very beginning of her training, Simplora and the other new slaves were injected with the virus early on and told what would happen to them if they did not comply or if they were to run away. It was the ultimate form of control and to ingrain the message into the new slave's heads, one unfortunate slave was taken from each of the new groups and subjected to the virus and denied the life-sustaining serum. Behind the glass partition, the new slaves were forced to watch their comrade die an unspeakable death, strapped to the bed screaming out in agony for days. It was unbearable and the new slaves found themselves praying for death to come swifty to their friend and for release... but it never did. It was a lesson they would never forget, one of many to come.

Quickly, they sprung to action and were running to the medical pod, their hearts pounding as they imagined the panic that would ensue when the thousands of slaves converged on the pod for vials of the precious antidote. Surprisingly, they were first to arrive and quickly scooped up as many boxes of vials as they could carry, running to the nearby ships and hurrying back and forth loading the cargo holds.

Soon, the rumble of thousands of slaves was upon them; Simplora and the others knew what would follow in the panic as sure as they knew that this station would no longer be safe. "Hurry!" her friends called out, as they each slammed the cargo holds closed, knowing what they had to do as there was no time and soon the clamoring, panicked hoard would be upon them fighting for the precious vials as well as for the few remaining ships.

Panic gripped Simplora as she only had a rudimentary understanding of how to fly the rifter, having only just started her training. Soon she managed to lift off with the coaching of her friends over the neocom, she trembled as the station disappeared beneath her, the constellations coming into view as she tried to get her bearings, not having taken the orienteering classes yet she soon found herself separated from her friends and hopelessly lost without direction.

The beginning of the journey proved to be a nightmare as she could not tell which stations had freed their slaves and which had not. She desperately did not wish to be enslaved again but needed to resupply and work for the ISK needed for food, fuels and supplies. As the days passed into weeks, Simplora was able to assimilate into the crowds and pick up small-time mission running contracts, learning as she went by constantly listening to those about her, the once foreign lingo becoming slowly more understandable as she progressed in her learning. When her shields failed and the monitor flashed its warning as the heat permeated the outer hull, she was able to afford her first upgrade. She had watched other pilots perform this countless times by now and was able to complete the job herself, she found herself almost dancing as she celebrated this small victory. She was on the road to being independent and was growing bolder in the contracts she accepted as well, earning more and more ISK with each success.

Learning to inject herself had been a challenge, but a must, and soon her thoughts were constantly revolving around the supply of antidote in the cargo hold. She found herself dreaming of the consequences of running out and when she sat in galley with the other mission runners she soaked in every piece of news about contracts involving courier services to medical facilities and tidbits of information about what might be transported without appearing too interested. After one night of hearing such news and the coordinates, she quickly set her autopilot and lifted off with hope in her heart that she might be able to secure additional supplies of the antidote, not considering at the time what the penalties might be for such an act. Nearing low-security space, her heart jumped as she orbited the gate several times. It was not her boldness but her desperation that fueled her now as she approached the gate and entered, quickly settling into course to dock, relief sweeping over her as she found herself remarkably in the right station she accepted the contract without further investigation and set course to the pickup location, driving deeper into the low-security zone, her mind focused on one thing and one thing only: getting the antidote and quickly disappearing into the solar system, if possible.

With the box loaded into cargo, she quickly left the station sure that she could find her way out she quickly became lost in the maze of stargates, warping from one dock to the next as she sought to hide herself as best she could from the other pilots and overseers the neocom startled her as it crackled, a voice on the other end identifying themselves and inquiring as to her course and why she had detoured from her destination, having missed a gate. Silence. She knew they were waiting for an answer, as her tongue became thick and her head reeled. A tracker! Of course! A tracker had been placed inside the cargo! How could she have thought such valuable cargo would be given over without tracking its progress as well as the pilot who held it. She covered her mouth and gasped scrambling for an explanation she silently cursed her stupidity as she explained she had become disoriented, glad that she had only missed one gate. The neocom once again cracked as the voice from the other side gave clear, concise instructions as to how she was to proceed and that she was indeed to proceed immediately. There was no question or query in the voice, but a steady and calm reserve that left her with no doubt that she could and would be destroyed at the push of a button. Quickly she set her course and followed directions to the letter, confirming her progress each step of the way as she found herself now hopeless approaching the dock to the destination station.

"You are first to pick up a marker from the jet can outside the dock," came the instructions over the neocom, "and then proceed immediately to station." Quickly, she approached the jet can as her ship connected briefly with it and picked up the marker through the hatch, her radar lit up with a quickly approaching ship behind her and she yelped as her screen flashed red as she was targeted. She slammed the button to dock and found herself inside the station where she spent a considerable amount of time after releasing her precious cargo, tears streaming down her face as she watched it disappear, even despite the fact that she received a hefty reward for her endeavor, she was hopeless. She tried to scan the surrounding area but was unable to do so within the confines of the station, she soon heard instructions that incoming ships needed her space and she must depart. Trying to steady herself, she readied to once again launch into the low-sector zone and try and sort her way back out to Concord space.

Her ship glided smoothly out of dock as she quickly scanned, breathing a sigh of relief as it seemed clear... on first glance. Approaching the first gate, her heart racing with the thought of her freedom before her once again for as long as her precious vials would last her, she set course but was quickly intercepted by a larger ship. Not knowing what to do, she proceeded on course as a demanding voice cracked the neocom, "You are to stop your ship immediately," came the instruction barking over the neo. She did not reply but acted in panic, engaging her afterburner and activating her shields as she attempted to activate the stargate before he could react. He was three steps in front of her as he enveloped her in the webifier and rendered her ship immobile. Again came the instruction, "You are being enslaved. You are to stop your ship immediately!" "NOOO," she screamed through the neo, setting her ship into warp as she tried in vain to escape, she cried out as she, for the very first time ever, engaged her weapons system on another ship. The first hit to her ship was shattering, as she felt it shake with the power of the strike, she returned fire over and over again, trying desperately to release herself from the hold he had on her. Again and again she failed.

Once again the voice, this time maddeningly calm, through the neocom, "You are instructed to stop your ship immediately. This is your last warning!" "NOO, I completed my mission! I'm done!" She screamed through the neocom as she tried everything she could think of to escape, firing over and over again, his voice angering her in its calmness as if he were merely toying with her! She fought with everything she had until the final blow came, her pod hurled out into space, she never even knew what hit her as she glided helplessly, towed in by his tractor beam, once again the voice in the neocom, calm, cool, maddening! "You are hereby enslaved. You will do what you are told. You will speak when spoken to. Am I clear?" "Yes, Master," came the programmed reply, her body shaking with fear, followed by anger and outrage! How could she have thought she could enter this zone and remain unscathed, she screamed in rage as she was helplessly towed into station.

Silence. She remained in station for what seemed an eternity. She cared not now what happened to the once-precious antidote. It mattered not to her now. Surely her life was over, at least as she knew it. Once again she would return to the mind-numbing hoard, blindly following orders and grinding out missions for her soon-to-be slave masters. The neocom in the station blazed to life, the voice of the woman who had assigned her the contract surprisingly enough, informing her that her new master's paperwork was on the desk and that she was to familiarize herself with it." Her mouth opened for a million questions as the neo once again went dead. Silence. She hurried over to the paperwork, her nimble fingers flipping through the pages as she encountered a photograph. She sucked her breath in as she beheld him, examining his features, as she found her slender finger reaching out and tracing his profile, the neocom startled her once again as she dropped the papers and hurried to gather them together as she, for the first time, heard his voice...

He told her she was his and that he would protect, guide and instruct her as he saw fit and that she was to obey in all ways. There was no question in his voice. As he spoke, she found herself drawn to the voice, her cheek pressed against the neocom as she listened to him wide eyed, wondering about him. The voice gave no indication to her that he would tolerate anything but absolute obedience. It was a self-assured voice and rich with confidence, and as he spoke she found herself coming to the realization that indeed she would serve him, unquestioningly and without reservation. Quietly she spoke the words, sure that he could not hear her, "my Master..." as he continued to tell her of her fate.

She was his.