Two Birds with one Stoned

I had my lunch two hours previously before plugging into the capsule – piloting 101 right there, wouldn’t want to throw up and swim around your previously digested food mid-flight now, would we?

My capsule then made its humble way into the docking bay and was inserted into my choice of ship, my second grand spanking new thorax, ‘Stoned’. Once securely onboard I checked all flight systems, weapon systems, and every other system before viewing the ship internal cameras. I silently watched as uniformed people hurriedly scurried along the decks of my cruiser, my proud crew of thirty. When everything was ticked off green, I requested undock and soon found myself in the pits of nothingness. I set my course for Molden Heath – 6 jumps.

I plot my route, my hunting ground as it were. A 10 system route should do nicely for just over an hours worth of time.

The first Solar System was dry. Small left-over’s were all that remained. Wrecks left behind from victims of those also in my newly acquired line of work. There was nothing to be found here, I moved on.

EVE System > Channel changed to Heild Local Channel

As I lay there cloaked alongside the Stargate, I did a quick 14AU Omni-directional scan. Nothing picked up.

I warped towards a previously logged safespot, and repeated my scan. 2 Minmatar Frigate ships appeared on display –Rifters. Juicy.

I narrowed my scan down towards a specific belt in orbit of Planet VII. As I entered the vicinity out of warp, they were gone. Nothing remained but the dead cluster of rocks drifting meaninglessly. I swung the ship around and set my next target toward a distant planet. However, as my warp drive initiated at the peak of 75% velocity, my overview picked up 2 Rifters entering the space at a distance of 70km. So, the hunter was being hunted. I smiled, perhaps in a more sinister way than I had intended. It was too late to cancel warp, as the ship had begun its sub-velocity warp sequence, but it was enough time for me to pull out the pilot details on the Rifters.

Their pilot licences were only a few months old. My confidence grew. Surely these were guaranteed kills. I returned back towards the Asteroid Belt, Scram module at the ready. They were gone again. But this time, I knew they would not be running away. I waited.

It took perhaps a full two minutes before the frigates appeared only 15km from my position. I sprung into action, initiating microwarpdrive as I approached the targets. We clashed moments later and began close orbit. I was both warp scrammed and webbed, so it was only polite to return the favour. I launched my Hammerheads from the Drone Bay and ordered them to engage.

I released the wrath of my Heavy Electron Blasters and the carnage of drones upon ‘Rifter A’. By the time I took down its shields, I was only 50% into mine. I was getting cockier by the second.

This was when my smile was painfully torn away, his armour refused to buckle. Goddamn my tracking speeds. He was too close and my guns couldn’t keep up. I was losing time, every second that went by drew me closer to my impending doom. I was 37% into armour.

I aligned towards a distant planet, in hope that my linear direction would help increase the distance between us. It seemed to work. The remainder of his armour plating diminished upon 4 blaster volleys, I didn’t even get a reading on his structure status before I was engulfed with the soft, blue light.

My focus was now on ‘Rifter B’. I initiated Scram and Web, and engaged both drones and Blasters. I gritted my teeth as my armour fell deeper below the last remaining 10%. Things got slightly worse as 2 (Gistii?) Pirates entered the fray, of which one of them had me locked. Another minute went by before my Hammerhead’s lay the final blow on the final Rifter. Blue’s my favourite colour. I called in my drones and warped out to a safe location, not wanting to risk my ship further from the 2 Gistii. I was 80% into Structure integrity. I smiled, not in a sinister fashion, but out of relief. I repaired my armour and returned to the Belt to collect my reward.

Pit Panic > damn nice fight man gratz

Pit Panic > nice fucking fight yai

Caster Rom > good fight lads

Pit Panic > hha ya

Pit Panic > hehe

Caster Rom > <3

I could have hugged them.

Not wanting to risk my newly acquired Cargo, I made my way home toward Hek. This was enough to satisfy me for the day. I put the goods up on the market for a few million, and retired to my quarters.

[Notice the poor 'cutting' and 'pasting' there in the image ;)]

Neural Development

It's difficult to describe the setting, there are so few details to depict. There is no weather to follow, for this is cold, empty space. There isn't much of a view either, just the simple scene of the pilot lounge; Sofa seats and regular shaped coffee tables evenly spaced across the bland metallic room. Either the architect or the interior designer must have lacked that speck of creativity, because something went wrong. The place felt dead. It would have been more so if the place wasnt swarmed with people, but alas - this is Hek. My temporary residence after the migration up from Curse.

"Sir." It took a while for me to snap out of wonderland and look over my shoulder. A middle sized Caldari man stood before me, short military style hair and cold stony eyes. I recognised him to be a crew member of mine - a new guy recommended by one of my subordinates. I'm having trouble trying to recollect his name and file.

"Please, we're not in the military. Take a seat, mate." I beckoned him to the seat across from me. I tried a smile. "So what brings me the pleasure of your company?"

"I heard you purchased one of those Myrmidon ships the other day," he said. It was a statement, not a question - straight to the point i guess.

My gaze had wondered over to the reinforced 12" thick glass window beside me at this point, taken aback at the sudden tranquility of the dream-like spectacle. Ships orbitting the station, sun light gently touching their armoured hulls. Instruments of war and death, transfigured into pretty flowers in a field, birds in the sky. I take back my comments on the view.

"Sir?" His voice snapped me back into reality. It was true, I had purchased a Gallentean Battlecruiser. But don't get me wrong, i honestly don't intend on flying it full-time, nor part-time yet for that matter. I still have a little longer to wait, the skillpack (Energy Management) currently plugged into my neural rig jack will take another 2 days to complete. I still have several skills and abilities I want under my belt before taking my Myrmi out on a serious operation.

I explained the situation to him, and he took it all in without a change in facial expression, nor an expression of opinion either.

"What skills you planning on uploading?" he asked, his face blank and unaltering.

"Well, the ones on the list; completion of Signature analysis 4, and then I'm gonna be focussing on Energy management and Thermodynamics. Can't go wrong with extra boost to performace. You with electronics?" I asked.

"Mechanics."

"Right. Sorry." I still couldn't place a name.

He continued, as if without interruption. "So we've still got a while to wait yet. Guess we'll be stuck on Flint a while longer." Flint, my recently attained personal Thorax Cruiser, my pride and joy. I've only taken it on short flights lately, not daring to risk anything quite so soon. Not until i'm satisfied with the support skills.

We continued to discuss possible skill-paths and routes in development for a while longer, occasionally glancing at the passing Battleships out the oval window.

"I'll be off then, sir. It's been a pleasure." He finally rose to his feet, gave a curt nod and a salute, and smiled. I moved my arms awkwardly toward my head, taken aback from the sudden display of emotion. He slipped out between the chair and table, and strode away towards the exit lift. Harrison, Scott Harrison. That was his name.

*Cue joyous, spasticated air-punching.

Pilot

My journey as a capsuleer pilot began in the early start of the previous Earth Year. I had finally completed my pre-pilot course and examinations which i had been working toward for the majority of my planet-bound life. Childhood dreams of exploring the wonders of space itself and the adventures of which it could unfold were finally reachable. My life was about to drastically change and at the time, i pondered over whether it was for the better.

I suffered weeks of vommiting and general disgust over myself after the biological implants had been implemented within every spare internal space i had in my body, something which (i was told) was not an uncommon thing. I began serving the State War Academy at this point, and my every action was observed by my Superiors. The smug bastards never missed the opportunity to unleash the occasional Smack-mannerism on me. God, i was tested many a time on restraining my urge to shove an Ibis up their Navy BUM.

As the months wore on, my mind began concluding that the State is not great and almighty as i had been previously brought up to know. In my eyes, false propaganda was being slipped among the people from the puppeteers above. Things like "Giving your life for the State" was not really in the interest of the people, or strictly for the State. It benefits the rich faggots in the high seats.

Shortly afterwards, i snuck out of Caldari Space... into Gallente. The people of the Gallente federation was of a huge contrast to the Caldarians. In interest of keeping it short, lets just say i liked it better here. The design of ships was the sex to my eyes also, and so i began learning and training into specialised Gallente ships.

I enlisted with the Universal Army, and fought alongside the Ushra'Khan - met many awe-inspiring people and friends. However, despite this, my heart was not really into it. I strongly believe that fighting against slavery was a good cause, but my heart wasn't in the fight. I felt constricted. I wanted some freedom to find my own adventure. So i bid my Corp-mates farewell, and migrated out of Curse.

So here i am, sitting in the Boundless Creation Station Bar in the Hek system of Metropolis. Free-will is my ally now. Perhaps i will try pirating, subtly blending myself in amongst the scumbags of the universe. After all, only muppets allow themselves to get caught and molested (ransomed)... right?