Saturday, March 29, 2014

Someone Your Own Size



War is a bitch.  I have a long time friend in Eve who claims that highsec wars are the main driving factor thats holding back the game's growth.  I don't know if I'd be that dramatic about it myself.  I do have to agree that a fat lot of the guys who participate in highsec wardecs are the same type of players who will say your crying and beg for more tears if you try to negotiate an end to the war. They simply don't purport themselves with the same nobility and regal fibre as me and my piratical kin.  Now I don't mean men like Psychotic Monk, or Cannibal Kane who do bring unrivaled class and professionalism to the stars when I say this.  No, I mean the men who wardec anything that undocks from the SOE epic arc station and then proceeds to hellcamp Jita, Amarr or Rens with neutral logi and all manner of boorish tactics.  I'm sure you're familiar.  I do not say all this to bash on the highsec griefer's style of life of course, or even to boast about lowsec superiority.  I say all this to introduce us to our next victims.

When 7-2 began wardeccing the locals in our new deployment region with the intent to fight under gate guns a few other groups joined in.  Either hired mercenaries who decced us seperately or opportunistic carrion who hopped on the same dec as allies.  I believe our friends were of the latter.  They were from a corp named S-o-S and at the time they were allianceless.  After my run in with the group of wartargets who crashed my Kronos execution I went on a bit of a research binge to go after the bastards.  I spent the better part of a Saturday perusing Evewho and compiling a list of possible bogeys, yet by the time I was done the men responsible for my flub had largely logged off.  Bastards.  That left me and my friends from S-o-S.  A few quick locators later and I had eyes on.  My alt followed a small frigate fleet of theirs through lowsec a few jumps and then into Stacmon.  There they sat and warped from gate to gate catching Brave Newbies who didn't know any better and violencing them with a prejudice.  I wasn't particularly impressed.  Now don't get me wrong I will gladly shoot a Brave Newbie Venture in lowsec just as quickly as the next guy.  But I also like to think there is more... ugh I hate to say honour but I guess that's the best word; more honour in a lowsec slaughter than there is in deccing a corp known for being newbs (its in their name dammit), and camping the choke point to their home system just to kill a few Hoarders with 236 Tritanium and 58 Small Tungsten charges in the hold.

So I came up with my own boorish plan.  It was rather obvious that they had scouts in the surrounding systems and when a WT showed up in local somewhere they'd all swarm the gate and hit him with sticks after he jumped.  Well, all I needed was an anti-frig Vexor (I can buy that), a WT symbol (got that), and some piss and vinegar (got that too).  It was rather impressive really, how quickly they moved to my gate once I jumped into the neighboring system.  They clearly had done this before.  I jumped into Stacmon, my imaginary long blonde hair billowing in the wind behind me.  There they sat, eager and grinning like a bundle of half-witted Cheshire cats waiting to eat their mouse.  And I'd like to think I played the part well. I held cloak for as long as I could and decloaked burning back to the gate Feigning Disorder until they all engaged.

Cry havoc. Said he who fought chaos with chaos, and let slip the dogs of war.

Small neutron blasters spooled up and a flight of angry Hobgoblins flew forth.  Dual webs and a solid scram held down my unfortunate colleagues whilst I pummeled them into the dirt.  They simply didn't stand a chance.

Wednesday, March 19, 2014

A New World


Jumping into Teon I knew what was going to happen.  I paid off the Concord guy just like I was supposed to.  I knew my record now said I was a reformed and forgiven scoundrel welcomed back into high society.  Still I winced a bit, expecting the warning lights and screaming officers who always demand I leave or be shot down.  Yet the only sound that fell upon my ears was silence; disturbing, peaceful silence.  So I went on my way.

For years the only times I had intentionally set foot in highsec with Damay was in a gank Thrasher/Catalyst.  Times change however and here I was.  A few wardecs and a need for new scenery made up my mind. Before I knew it I was revoking my badge of -10 honor for a few hundred million isk and some metal trinkets.

The goal was, at first, to find a shiny mission ship and taunt it with my lowly Arbitrator until it decided to hit me.  Well it didn't take too long for someone to oblige.  I convo'd the poor individual and asked a fair ransom for the safe release of their vessel.  The exchange went like this:


[15:11:22] EVE System > Channel MOTD: This is a Ransom. Turn off all mods and stop your ship. Terms for your release will be discussed momentarily.
[21:14:47] Gadgett Hackwrench > ?
[21:14:52] Damay Aprionati > this is a ransom
[21:15:00] Damay Aprionati > 2.5billion and ill let you go
[21:15:05] Gadgett Hackwrench > wut?
[21:15:10] Gadgett Hackwrench > fu
[21:15:15] Gadgett Hackwrench > mi shit costs less
[21:15:18] Gadgett Hackwrench > *my
[21:15:20] Damay Aprionati > alright
[21:15:30] Damay Aprionati > lets negotiate
[21:15:42] Gadgett Hackwrench > but i'll set reward for u, at2.5 billion
[21:16:31] Damay Aprionati > hows about this
[21:16:34] Damay Aprionati > ill scan your ship
[21:16:44] Damay Aprionati > and give you a fair ransom price
[21:17:02] Gadgett Hackwrench > have 100kk
[21:17:12] Gadgett Hackwrench > so u can scan whatever u want
[21:17:26] Damay Aprionati > all you have is 100k isk?
[21:17:33] Gadgett Hackwrench > yeap
[21:17:40] Gadgett Hackwrench > at this mient
[21:17:44] Gadgett Hackwrench > moment
[21:18:27] Damay Aprionati > very well
[21:18:43] Gadgett Hackwrench > ok
[21:18:57] Gadgett Hackwrench > 2.5 billion for your head)
[21:19:00] Gadgett Hackwrench > have this)
[21:19:07] Gadgett Hackwrench > it will be funny)
[21:20:13] Damay Aprionati > Pith B-Type X-Large Shield Booster
[21:20:16] Damay Aprionati > dropped
[21:21:29] Gadgett Hackwrench > just enjoy the game for 2 days)
[21:21:41] Gadgett Hackwrench > and i'll set reward) it's not hard for me
[21:21:45] Damay Aprionati > well sir this is not my first rodeo
[21:21:59] Gadgett Hackwrench > and no my first
[21:22:10] Gadgett Hackwrench > i like to fuck guys like u
[21:22:14] Gadgett Hackwrench > u cfme
[21:22:19] Damay Aprionati > im sorry for you to have lost the ship that way
[21:22:21] Gadgett Hackwrench > sole my loot
[21:22:25] Gadgett Hackwrench > *stole
[21:22:31] Gadgett Hackwrench > no
[21:22:33] Damay Aprionati > id have much rather come to an agreement
[21:22:46] Gadgett Hackwrench > i'll sorry u only when u die)
[21:23:15] Gadgett Hackwrench > and i will be a good price for idiot like u
[21:23:20] Gadgett Hackwrench > *it
[21:23:40] Damay Aprionati > no need for name calling
[21:23:48] Damay Aprionati > we fought, i offered ransom and you lost
[21:24:25] Gadgett Hackwrench > do u know what happens with guys like u in real life?
[21:24:35] Damay Aprionati > no i honestly dont?
[21:24:39] Damay Aprionati > care to inform me
[21:24:48] Gadgett Hackwrench > so, i'll make your game funny here
[21:25:37] Damay Aprionati > im not sure i understand how your going to do that
[21:25:53] Damay Aprionati > nor do i understand what you think will come of me in real life?
[21:26:40] Gadgett Hackwrench > many peole will like to get money from ur headhunt)
[21:26:54] Gadgett Hackwrench > so... fuck off and enjoy
[21:27:02] Damay Aprionati > what does that have to do with my real life?
[21:27:21] Damay Aprionati > damnit

Sadly, OP has not delivered.

After my initial success I spent another few days popping MTU's and harassing locals to no avail.  Then I found it, a Kronos.  Oh this beautiful Kronos was simply begging to die in a fire.  I scanned it out with my alt and they had all sorts of shinies fitted and they used T1 drones and had a few mission boat losses and were unnamed and... Refusing to shoot me.  Balls.  I was determined though, so when they warped to station I followed, when they docked I waited, and when they undocked I moved closer.  And when they shot me I FREAKED the fuck out.

I flew in close, got my orbit straight and went to work on the drones.  Web, scram and TD's light up and turn off their MJD cycle.  I ask on comms the whole while how big of a drone bay I was dealing with and begging for all the luck the mighty Pirate Gods could grant me.  The Yars on High had forsaken me though.  I hadn't seen a single one of our wartargets yet since the start of the conflict, yet here they all came now as the last drone of the Marauder popped.  3 T3's, a Guardian, a Curse and some other not so fun ships were here for me.  I had to run before they closed to point range, cursing the whole way.  The Kronos docked of course and went away.

I wanted blood from these damn deccers now, I was done with small fries for the time being....

Tuesday, February 11, 2014

A History: Part One


I'm bad at blogging. I mean I like writing and stuff but I'm the worst at actually sitting down and putting out my thoughts.  Maybe I'll be able to keep up with it this time, I know I'd love to, but that's precisely what I think every time I decide I want to get this project started again.  We'll see I guess.

Anyway, I've been thinking a lot about the player stories aspect to EVE.  You know, the whole first decade book of stories CCP compiled?  The various nefarious deeds committed by the likes of Haargoth Agamar/Mittens, Helicity Boson, m0o corp and others.  Even the random snippets of story that you hear about talking to folks and perusing forums and blogs.  Like Psychotic Monk's musings on his own brand of piracy: link.  

So I figured I would chronicle Damay's life in New Eden here.  I fully expect this to be a wall of text that few but myself would want to read but, at least it will be here for me if I ever want to reminisce.  TL;DR: Damay was born, he killed things.

I found EVE in real life between my junior and senior years of high school.  It was a banner add on LineRider or something and I was sitting alone in a hotel room.  Turns out my girlfriend's mom didnt approve of me spend then night in the same room with my now ex (lame right?).  I click on it and started going through the EVE Online website which, circa 2009, pretty much just consisted of the forums, chronicles and a wiki.  I remember reading about pirates on the wiki and being amazed by this guy's story of how his presence.  How a red skull on the overview could make men shudder and how a single pirate sitting on the undock of a station could lock the whole bitch down.  I was hooked.  I started up my account and was astounded by how complex everything was  (I also definitely spent the first few weeks auto-piloting everywhere because I didn't realize you could warp to zero).  Nevertheless I did the tutorial missions and on the way heard about Faction Warfare.  I thought to myself, that would be a great way to learn the PvP aspect to this game before I embark on my epic piratical crusade.  So naturally the first corp I joined was a highsec, carebear, ANTI-PIRATE corp. Sigh.  I don't know why I did it.  To be honest I guess I was drawn in by the minnie RP shit they had in their corp info and the fact that they accepted newbies.  I sent in my humble app and within the hour I was in my first corp.  Me, with my tiny little Burst, in a real EVE corp.  Fucking.  Badass. 

My time in Adventurers was rather short.  Ten days total I believe.  I saw my first Stabber when I first joined and went on a level 2 mission with a group of the guys and thinking there's no way I'll ever be able to fly one of those, that's so cool!  The honeymoon didn't last long of course and I started daydreaming about being a pirate again.  I went out to lowsec to shoot rats and maybe get my chance to be a big bad piwate.  The trip was short-lived.  I saw the wolf on my overview and it seemed like a mere second before I was in my pod.   It was finally time to try out FW and learn the trade of slaughter from professionals!  I stayed for a day.  However, my first kill was had in that day! Glorious sweatbreaking, hand shaking killing.  To be honest I don't remember much about it besides feeling lost out in lowsec after the fleet disbanded.

I returned to Adventurers for another short stay during which a man by the name of White Voodoo took me under his wing and taught me a whole hell of a lot about the game.  We became and still are good RL friends to this day.  A couple days after my return, Voodoo invited me to join him in his small corp of friends from the meatspace.  I was honored.

And so my time in The Scarlet Inquisition began.  I learned soooo much about the basics of EVE during my time there.  Yet again my time there was short though I may have stayed longer if real life didn't get in the way of the other three members, Voodoo included.

Not knowing where else to go I decided to start my own corp, Kel' ein.  The name was a reference to The Faded Sun Trilogy by C. J. Cherryh if you were wondering.  We had maybe 8-10 members total and we were baaaaa-ad.  Typical newbish "We are a small group of friends who want to someday own space in lowsec and even further down the road in null!" type corp.  Only one of us had any substantial amount of SP and it wasn't even me.  Either way we did alright for ourselves I guess, mining ops, missioning, roaming (read dying in fires), etc.  Until the day we got wardecced o.0 AHHH!

Dammit all though if we didn't do our best to fight back against The humbleless Crew.  We even got two kills that we were entirely too proud of.  Ohhhh man.  Were we stoked.  At some point the CEO of that corp contacted me and he informed us that we had balls for a nublet corp, resulting in an enormously swelled ego.  But alas we were being crushed by the war and felt we needed to do something different.  Along the way we tried to kill a Harbinger that belonged to an anti-pirate group in the Molden Heath region.  We didn't find out it belonged to anti-pirates until they dropped a heavy freakin' BC fleet on our silly little heads.  In true Butterfly Effect Trailer fashion wound up befriending The Black Dragon Elite after a bit of a chat and when we found our corp to be in a tight spot they offered us shelter with them.

Anti-Pirates in a corp with "Elite" in the name we became!  And lo, did our egos swell once more.

Sunday, November 10, 2013

Pod and Planet Fiction Contest: 8k Suns: Promises



    I like fiction. A lot. So when I noticed one of Sugar Kyle's blog posts was an entry into an EVE fiction contest my interest was predictably piqued. I went to the main page for the site and saw the prizes, categories and entries and started getting excited. Then I saw the deadline. Today at noon, EVE-time. I quickly tried to figure out in my head what that would be (I've never been great with arithmetic or time-zones). HAHA, I thought, I have 8 hours. So I got to work. I hope it came out alright for being a kinda rushed piece. In any case I present to you:



Promises




36-17-9... no its -19-7, "FUCK!" Smash.  Paint chips explode from the rusty locker door under my fist.
    "Whoah there, what's got your panties all in a bunch?" Otikin Fai, my boss.  The guy is a friggin' sleaze bag.  Fired someone last week for not setting him up with his sister.  Not to mention that he brought that weird friend of his to the poker game last month, asshole.
    "That goddamn capsuleer just pissed me off.  I can't believe he came in for seventeen repair and unloads today. Sevenfuckingteen, I counted."
    "What'dya expect man, they don't give a shit about baseliners.  You saw the amount of loot and salvage he kept loading out.  Musta killed two hundred odd ships out there.  That's probably like... I dunno eight thousand people.  He don't care about four lousy dock workers either," Koshe Ara, a regular surgeon with a torch, not the best with a sentence though.
    "The nano-bots do most of the work on them capsuleer ships anyway, we just have to press the buttons.  I don't see why you let it bother you so much. Besides we have one of them in at least once a week. You should be used to it by now," Heeto Wro, technician.  I swear he can charm a tangle of wires better than any Ni-Kunni snake dancer can charm a cobra.
    "Yea maybe so, but what bothers me about them is that they expect us to get everything done in a matter of seconds, no matter what it is. It's absurd.  At least when we get the Guristas ships in for repair and unloads they let us take the time we need.  And don't get me started on that god-awful PA system he was using either."
    "Hah! All that yelling hurt your delicate sensibilities there Tai?"  God do I wanna smack that grin off Oti's face.
    I leave them to their laughter after I peel off my jumpsuit and head to the showers.  The grease and grim comes right off with the Caldari industrial soap they give us.  Kinda makes me wonder what's in it, but I'm sure I don't wanna know.
   The other three are getting in the showers as I leave. They're talking about going to the dive bar out in the red light district, 426th floor.  Man I could go for a drink too.  
Otikin is waiting by my locker.  He never showers here because he never works hard enough to have to.  To be honest none of us have ever seen him do much real work at all.  It's a running joke that he only got the job because he's Fatal's third cousin or some shit.
   "Hey wanna come over tonight and crack a brew, unwind a bit?" No Oti, that's the last thing I wanna do actually.
   "Sure man, sounds good. Lemme just call my wife after I get dressed,"
   "Yeah, yeah, of course.  I'ma go wait outside and make a few calls myself actually,"  
I hate going to his place.  He only buys cheap beer that no one likes and he knows it.  It keeps us from drinking all of it whenever he asks one of us over.  Which he does frequently of course, trying make friends and holding us hostage for a few hours with awkward small talk. Eventually we all just make up a lame excuse and get the hell outta there.  
The locker door is cold on my forehead as I lean against it.  He's gonna ask me about the money too.
   I walk outside and look around. It's like walking out of one building and right into another on a station like this. The streets all have ceilings since the station is just a huge stack of different levels in the people spaces. It has a weird effect on one's sense of direction. Oti is down the street talking to himself with his back to me, though I'm sure he's on a call. I pull out my own data pad and call my wife. 
"Hey honey, how's little man doing?"
   She looks stressed out, "Good, good.  He's uh, sleeping right now," She hesitates, "H-how was work today?"
   "Eh same shit I guess.  Are you alright you seem a little... frazzled."
   "Oh yeah I'm fine.  Just fine over here," She nods a bit as her sentence trails off.
   "Well alright, just making sure. By the way Oti wants me to go his place tonight so I'll be home late,"
   "Oh that's fine dear I'll just uh, make dinner when you get here,"  She looks down at her hands.
   "Wanna walk me over to Chau's bed so I can say goodnight?"
   Her eyes dart over to something above the screen while she replies, "Um, well he didn't have a nap today and was kinda cranky to be honest. I'd rather not go in there and risk waking him up."
   Oti waves me over, "Ugh, I gotta go anyway.  Well, go get some sleep or something you seem like you had about as rough a day as I did, love ya."
   "I love you too Tai, I-" She leans in, "I uh, just, I love you a lot."


***


  Oti's place was... weird.  It was obvious it cost more than the flat I was in but it still had a grungy feel to it.  It was like it knew it belonged to a guy like him and just didn't bother trying to look nice.
"Drinks are in the fridge." He tells me as we walk through the door. He heads up the stairs towards his room.
  Yep, nothing in here but canned horse piss.
  "So Tai, my buddy has been asking about that money," His voice drifts downstairs,  "A month is a long time to not pay up on a ten grand debt.  If this were a loan you'd owe him quite a bit in interest."
  "Fuck man its like I told him after the game, and like I've told you everyday since.  I'm just a dock worker. It's gonna be a while until I can get the money... I shoulda never made the bet in the first place,"  I finish, mostly to myself.
I haven't even gotten my head out of the fridge yet dammit and he's already brought it up.  I put the beer on the counter, pop it open and start to down it.  It doesn't matter that its tastes horrible, my day couldn't get much friggin' worse.  I hear him walk into the kitchen, up to me and to the fridge.
   Shlick.  Stars explode behind my eyes, and pain wracks the base of my skull.  My body from the shoulders down goes numb and I can feel cold metal under my chin and see the glint of steel beneath my nose.
   "You're right Tai, you shoulda never make a bet you can only afford dead,"
   I try to reply but I just gurgle.  The counter-top rises to meet my face and heat pours down my neck.  I feel the blade slide out of my spine and my mind races in its death throes.  How could he do this? Is this really how I go? Fuck I haven't seen my son all week! How can this happen to me? Wh....



***



  Otikin drops the knife in his sink and leaves the body to slink down to the floor.  He walks over to the data pad on his coffee table and redials the last call.  A boy's face fills the screen, gagged and with a knife to his throat.  Behind him is a man wearing sunglasses in the dim glow of the screen. And the sound of a woman sobbing fills the apartment.
  "He's dead," Her crying crescendos,  "The corporation will pay out the health insurance to Ms. Fukusin in a few weeks. After the missing persons investigation is closed."
  "Thank you Mister Fai.  Can you show us the body please?”
  Otikin hesitates, “Are you sure about that?”
  “Mister Fai I wouldn’t ask if I wasn't sure.  Show us.”
  He picks up the pad and walks over to the body, now laying in a pool of blood with eyes transfixed on nothing.  Muffled groans and screams from the boy overpower his mother's crying.
   “Now learn from your father boy, never make a promise you cannot keep.”

Saturday, November 9, 2013

That Was Probably Worth More....



I couldn't believe it, I didn't even realize I was in my old home system of Ennur when I saw the unnamed Maelstrom on 360 scan.  I had just convinced myself that Molden Heath had become a ghost town in my TZ. It's probably at a POS or something, its just coincidence that the guys in local I thought, not wanting to get too excited.  I quickly narrowed down the search.  Shit, he's not on a planet.  Probably a safe then there's no way he's that dumb.  Always bet on stupid.  The little voice in the back of my head whispered as I stifled the thought.  Don't get your hopes up man.

A complex? A complex. HE'S AT A COMPLEX!  My mind exclaimed as I warped to zero.  He's gonna be 200km off Damay, you know this, chill out now.  I hold my breath.

Only 20km from the warp-in, YES!  A smile stretches from one ear to the other as I enter a tight orbit, grab point and wait.  No neut lands, I'm in the clear.  Warrior IIs are launched and popped just as quick, no match for my Atron of doom.  I invite him to the ransom channel and make my demands.  He pays.



I sit back in my chair and exhale.  250mil straight profit, I love this shit.  I'm surprised he took my first offer though, I don't think most Maels are worth that much... I wonder what he had on there... I need to get my alt in with a ship scanner next time.

Saturday, October 26, 2013

Death's Dick


Not a bad comeback I suppose.  Damay thinks to himself, cruising around The Bleak Lands.   Not a whole lot of kills to be honest, but I'm still in the green at least.  The Rifter he'd been flying was an unfamiliar shield fit sporting rockets.  He had to use the new loadout since the Empire mandated changes to all racial frigates made his favorite armor and nos fit fall behind the pack.  But he would be damned if his glorious return would be had in anything other than his favorite hull.

Sir, Fed Navy Comet in that small complex.  His on-board AI stated.

"Thanks babe, but you know as well as I do that if he knows his ass from a blaster I'd be turned into pulp in that fight."  He laughed in return.  That hasn't stopped me from taking those odds before... Maybe all the frig changes have made it a winnable affair. 

"Well shit I could at least see what this beauty can do."  He said, nose diving the Rifter right into the plex.

The Comet sat perfectly at the edge of scram range inside the Amarr military installation, Well that's probably not good.  Locked, scrammed, shot.  Damay's shields dropped to 3/4 in two volleys and the Comet hadn't even hit armor yet.  Shit.  The fight was short and communication from the Comet pilot came in immediately.

"Damn man I respect the balls it takes to initiate that fight but why the hell suicide into a superior ship like that?"

Damay smiled in his pod and replied, "Because sometimes you just have to punch Death in the dick and dare him to do something about it."






Thursday, October 24, 2013

To Short Lives



The place looked exactly like he left it, though a thin layer of dust covered everything in the cramped Captain's Quarters of Damay Aprionati.  He threw his palm device on the table on his way to the liquor cabinet.  On it was a message signed: "Resa Lesnon, I'll miss you."

He downed the first shot and poured another before walking over to the couch, plopping down and commanding the room's AI to display his combat report on the main holopanel.  "Five months huh? That's far too much tannin', boostin' and fuckin'."  He muttered to himself, and ordered up any and all new ship, alliance, corporation, region, and market information on surrounding panels.  "Shit I missed a lot,"  He said, settling in for a long night.

Hours of learning information in antiquated fashion, and a good handle of rum later Damay closed his eyes and sunk back into the couch.  His dreams were an amalgamation of cold rusted steel and warm soft flesh, deep purple eyes and bright red explosions with an overwhelming sense of power, satisfaction and lust.

When he woke he poured one more drink and removed his coat.  A tattoo adorned his chest now, a rat standing on its hind legs, soaked in blood from nose to haunch, and screaming in defiance of some unseen enemy.  "AI, prep me a rifter." He said, and raised a glass in mock toast.

"To short lives and long battles."