Out of character again today. I’m going to talk about our iPhone application for a moment, Capsuleer. You can find more details HERE.

Our fanbase for Capsuleer has been awesome! With over 6400 installs to date, Sam and I are motivated and excited to keep bringing more functionality and slick styling to the application.

We’ve also started an advertising campaign. 

We’ve taken out a full page advertisement in EON Magazine, the Official Eve Online magazine, AND have an interview in this month’s issue. We’re also writing an article for the next issue of EON about working with the EVE API.

I’ve only ever read the free samples of EON personally (Sorry!), but I am actually going to be purchasing three copies of the January issue. 

I encourage you all to order your copy as well. From what I’ve read, and what the Eve Online forums say, it’s an amazing magazine.

You will also see our ad randomly this year during the EVE Online startup. That will be a serious thrill.

Sam and I want to thank everyone once again for your continued support and motivation! It sounds cheesy, but it really does give us the strength we need to get the job done.

Here’s a sneak peek of the ad. Enjoy!

I was seven years old when the Imperial Inquisitor requested me. By then, I had already forgotten how long I had been working as a slave; forgotten how long it had been since I was a child of the Minmatar.

To serve an Inquisitor was a great honour amongst the slave camps. It was almost a guarantee that you would be in the presence of God more quickly than the rest, and during your remaining short life you would accomplish much glory in the name of the Emperor.

I remember first arriving at the capital of Sarum Prime to my new assignment. I had never seen anything so spectacular in my entire life. It was literally breathtaking and awe inspiring. I could see why so many of us were indoctrinated so easily into the Amarrian belief system; aside from the dependency on Vitoc. The architecture was astounding; the cacophony of sight and sound overwhelming to the senses. The people were the height of fashion and sophistication; it truly was an impressive Empire.

I eventually reached a cathedral; my new home, shared accomodation with Imperial Inquisitor Cho; and should I learn humbly from this mighty man of God, much honour and glory would be bestowed upon me. At the time, I was honoured. Looking back, I am sickened.

It was only a few days before Inquisitor Cho had a task for us. “Dog, (his pet name for me), we have received a most honour filled duty this morning, from the office of the Emperor himself. One of the many traitors to the Empire has been located, here on Sarum Prime, and it is our duty to show him the error of his ways, and bring him back to God.”

I eagerly prepared, making sure I had enough food wrapped and preserved, as well as clothing and supplies for the journey. For all his might, for all his power, Inquisitor Cho often led a simplistic life. This journey would be on foot, and should only take us a few days. There was much I would learn from him, I thought at the time; patience, humility, appreciation for simplicity, and much more. I did in fact learn those things from him, and much more.

We talked as we travelled to make the time pass by more pleasantly. Generally it was me asking questions incessantly, and Inquisitor Cho patiently answering my inquiries. He seemed to have an answer for everything. Eventually, he would raise his hand to silence me, encouraging me to spend some time digesting the information he had imparted upon me. 

As the hours turned into days, and we ventured farther and farther from the capital, I noticed how society seemed to decay by comparison. Cities turned into towns; towns into villages; villages into small farms; farms into huts. The farther you travelled from the capital, the less civilized things became.

On the fourth day, we finally came to a small hut in the middle of nowhere. It was quite dilapidated, with holes in the roofing slats, cracks in the mud walls, and general disrepair. A goat was kenneled in a small pen beside the  hut. There was a young boy, younger than me, playing with a stick in the dirt happily in front of the house. He hadn’t seen us approaching.

I had learned from Inquisitor Cho that the traitor we sought had caused much grief to the Emperor publically. He had been a politician of many years, but only recently had the devils possessed his mind. In his mad rantings, he had decried the Emperor, and the Amarr people as a whole, tearing his clothing to emphasize his shame. The Emperor, though saddened to his core, felt he had no choice but to make an example of this man. He took all his wealth, all his holdings, all his power. He exiled him from all of Amarr space, and yet only recently had it been learned that the traitor was still here, only a few day’s journey away from the capital itself.

He had nothing. His wife and his son were his only relatives; and the goat they used for milk and simple farming. Their existence had gone from one of grandeur to one of squalor.

But the Emperor, upon discovering the location of this man, had taken pity on him, and it had been decided to show him mercy. That is why we were here today. To extend the mercy of the great Emperor; to bring him back to God.

As we drew closer to the small hut, the young boy noticed us, stood abruptly, and ran screaming into the hut. A few moments later, a scruffy, older looking man came out from the hut, the young boy clinging to his leg, despite the older man’s attempts to push the boy inside. A womanly scream, filled with crying, came from inside the hut. The older man held a crude knife in his trembling hand.

“You’re not welcome here, Cho,” he said, his voice trembling. “I’ve done no harm. I bother nobody. Leave me to my existence, I beg of you.”

The Inquisitor didn’t break his stride, steadily closing the gap between us and the older man. At a subtle hand gesture from my master, I quickly pulled out a small laser pistol, and pointed it at the older man.

The older man’s eyes widened, and he dropped his knife, falling to his knees, his hands clasping in a prayer like motion. “Please, Cho, please don’t kill me. Don’t kill my family. Haven’t I suffered enough?”

It was hard to read Inquisitor Cho sometimes. I knew he was a good man, but sometimes his actions were contradictory to that. 

He extended his hand, palm up, welcoming the older man to take it. “I’m not here to kill you, Creighton. I am here on behalf of the Emperor to extend his mercy to you; the mercy of God to you. Today, you shall live.”

The old man began shaking even more, and the screaming from inside the hut was preceded by a plump woman bursting outwards onto the scene, clutching her son in her arms protectively.

“No!” she screamed. “We don’t want your mercy!” She cried while she yelled, spitting as she spoke. I didn’t understand. Why were these people so afraid of mercy? Mercy was a blessing. It was a gesture of good will. Why were they refusing it?

There was a silence for a time. 

Finally, my master turned to me and whispered “Kill the goat.” I walked towards the pen, and observed the goat for a moment. It was a sickly creature, far too scrawny to be of much use to anyone else, but this was all they had. How was killing it showing them mercy? Without it, they wouldn’t have milk. Without it, they wouldn’t be able to farm and make money for market. I was confused. The goat didn’t looked diseased. Why were we killing it?

I turned to Inquisitor Cho with a pleading look in my eye, a question on the tip of my lips, but he silenced me with a glare.

I didn’t understand. This wasn’t mercy at all. I killed the goat, cursing my master and the Emperor under my breath. If this was an act of our merciful God, I didn’t want any part of it.

We left shortly after that, much to the visible relief of the family in the hut. I didn’t speak to my master for nearly an entire day. Finally, I could take it no more, and as we made camp for the night, I exploded in anger.

“You took everything from them! How could you do such a thing? How could you destroy their milk? How could you destroy their farm? Did you see their hut? Did you see where the rain would leak in? And there were holes in the wall. It must be very cold at night. Why did you do it? Why did you take everything? Why did you kill their goat and say it was mercy? There is no mercy in that! Is that the God we serve? Is that how we show mercy, by killing things? We could’ve helped them. Where is the mercy? Answer me!”

I had never been more infuriated in my life at that point. My small chest heaved with heavy breaths and adrenaline, my fists clenching at my sides in impotent rage. My master didn’t have to do anything I demanded; he didn’t have to even respond. In fact, he could kill me on the spot and nobody would even mourn my loss. I was completely surprised by what he did next though.

“We were supposed to kill their son.” There was no emotion in his voice, just flat fact. 

I was completely deflated. I had nothing left.

It took me many years to figure out exactly what Inquisitor Cho had meant that day. During that time, I had never lost track of that family. They had died, slowly, painfully, from starvation and disease, with nobody willing to aid them, and no means of income. Mercy had become torture. It was a lesson to them that there was no mercy if you betrayed the Empire, and they had paid the ultimate price in their education.

It was many years later that I triumphed over Vitoc; that I escaped from Sarum Prime and took control of my own destiny. 

It was many years later before I had Inquisitor Cho in the crosshairs of my Vagabond. As I tore his ship away from him, I had my crew quickly lock onto his pod, and sent him a secured comm. The look of shock and terror on his face was very satisfying.

“I can offer you a fortune,” he said quickly. “I am very powerful in the Empire. Name your terms.” He was begging for mercy; how very quaint.

“Hello, master.” His face contorted into an almost comical expression as he tried to figure out who I was then contorted differently once realization occured.

“Dog, I mean … Roc? Is that you? My son, what are you doing? Do you wish the wrath of God Himself? Have mercy on me.” I was a raging storm of hostility inside, but I kept myself in check this one time.

“If I wasn’t merciful, Cho, you’d be dead already, but I wanted to speak to you, face to face.” Confusion was etched on his face.

“I will be merciful, Cho. You are a Capsuleer, and will live again. Your children however …” I let my sentence dangle off. His expression turned from one of confusion to one of fury.

“If you so much as touch a hair on their …”, he screamed at me before I cut him off.

“It’s already done, Cho. They died quickly, which is more than you ever did for Creighton and his family. Never let it be said that I didn’t learn mercy from the very best, master.”

And with that, I gave the command to fire.

PROLOGUE

EVATI IX – MOON 4 – KAALAKIOTA CORPORATION WAREHOUSE

“What was it about this man?” she thought to herself, as she stood on the bridge of her Jaguar. “Bridge” was a subjective term, as the typical assault frigate class ship manned a crew of 5 – 8. The particular design of this ship was very cramped, but she and her team had grown accustomed to the working conditions.

She stood beside her pod, her hand gently gliding down it’s sleek surface, her weight shifted to one long leg, as she inhaled deeply, feeling the flutter of her heart. “Dammit, Mynx, get a hold of yourself,” she muttered quietly into the stillness.

Mynxee was all woman. Over six feet tall, athletic, firm in all the right places; soft in all the right places. She had piercing grey eyes which contrasted her intensely red, flowing hair. She was the CEO of a successful pirating guild, the Hellcats, and was as ambitious as they came. She devoured men for breakfast, snacking on their hearts for lunch while savouring their souls in the evening over a nice glass of wine. She was not one to be trifled with; and most men that knew her were quick to learn that valuable life lesson.

She sighed again, trying to regulate her breathing without much luck. She felt like a damned schoolgirl. She felt like kicking her own ass because of it. And it was all because of one man, the man in her eyes, Roc Wieler.

She had met him by chance only briefly a few months prior, as he was bombarded by the paparazzi, the result of an advertising campaign promoting the “heroes” of the war. Mynxee was an accomplished pirate; she had no use for heroes, her life was one of making her own rules. But when she saw him, something deep within her stirred, and against the better judgement of her conscience, she had joined the crowd, acquired an autographed picture of the “Colonel”, which she had framed and still had on the wall of her office. She also knew from that brief encounter that she wasn’t the only one who felt something between them; she could read it in his body language. He desired her. All men desired her, but his attraction was different. She could feel it. He wanted to consume her, and she wanted to be consumed.

She rested her face against the palm of her hand, shaking her head, and laughed. What the hell was she going to do? She couldn’t even concentrate on getting flight prepped, and her crew would be arriving momentarily.

“Aura, startup the pod initiation sequence, command authorization delta-bravo-niner-niner,” she said, willing herself to focus on the task at hand. The pod access hatch hissed, releasing its seal, then slowly opened, tentacle-like cables reaching outwards as if alive and self aware. She effortlessly slipped out of her form fitting jumpsuit, and squeezed into the warm fluid of the pod, submissively surrendering herself to the probing tentacles. Becoming one with her ship was always an arousing and stimulating experience, always leaving her with a smile on her face.

After several minutes had passed, her crew began assembling on deck. She was nearly finished her startup checks when the comm buzzed. It was their scout at the Anher gate; there was an inbound contact. She furrowed her brow for a moment. Why would he be contacting her about this? She wasn’t fleet command. She studied the ship data being transmitted, her eyes growing wider with every passing second. It was a Jaguar class Assault Frigate, designation “Ripsack”, with a frigate class Republic Fleet Firetail in tow, designation “Renegade”. She had known he would be coming, or at least she had hoped he would be, but the man sure did know how to pleasantly surprise a girl. She almost squealed in delight, then rolled her eyes at herself at the thought of it. 

Colonel Roc Wieler had come to Evati, and he would be hers if it was the last thing she ever did.

PROLOGUE

VANGUARD FRONTIERS STATION, FADE REGION

PyjamaSam was a galactic anomaly. While brilliant in technical & engineering skills, he was almost inept at combat piloting & social grace. It was this perverse sense of cosmic balance that made him so very interesting to those whom knew him. He liked to consider himself as eclectic, but the deeper truth was that he suffered from several mental disorders, the least of which being obsessive compulsiveness. 

Seven hours ago, his friend Roc Wieler, had dropped by with a most special package. It was a metallic box, obsidian in colour, small enough to carry, but heavy enough to be substantial. It was a Terran relic retrieved months ago on some high level Minmatar black op, and Sam, whom at the time, had only seen it through a brief video comm with Roc, never dreamt that he would actually be tinkering with it now.

The best of the Minmatar Republic were stumped. Their scientists were puzzled. Their engineers perplexed. They all knew what it was on a basic level, it was a DNA computer (DNAC). Deciphering what type of DNA it was, and extracting the untold amounts of data stored on this device was another challenge entirely. Who knew how old this was? Who knew what wonders lay inside of it?

Sam was simply delighted that Roc had thought of him, recommending to his superiors that the box be delivered to Sam, that if anyone could shed some light on this subject, it would be him. What Sam didn’t know was that they had outright refused the request, but Roc, knowing Sam was the one being in the galaxy whom could help, had “appropriated” the device and brought it to him anyway.

Forty One hours left. Roc was crystal clear when handing the device over that Sam had two days to figure it out. He hadn’t questioned it at the time, too enraptured by the DNAC to even have noticed at what point Roc had eventually left. He didn’t know what would happen when his alotted time had elapsed. Would the device cease to function? Would it blow up? Would Roc simply come back and retrieve it? Or was there something more sinister afoot that he hadn’t considered?

In the end, it didn’t matter. He had a job to do, a task to complete. He hadn’t moved from his workstation since commencing his examination of the device, yet sadly he wasn’t any closer to unravelling its mysteries. But he would. He could feel it in his soul. This machine was of great import, and it was his destiny to be a part of it.

Adjusting an overhanging halo lamp, Sam lowered his micro goggles back over his eyes, downed a Quafe soda, hunched over, and got to work.

PROLOGUE

TRIBAL LIBERATION FORCE, HEK SYSTEM

“Though risky, I can see the value in your proposition, Colonel. This could change the tide of the war.” General Sasawong was a seasoned veteran, a well known force on his own for liberating enslaved Matari. There were few things he would not do to win this war; his approval on such a plan demonstrated this flaw.

“I concur. You do realize that this council will deny any and all involvement in this operation should it fail. The onus would be entirely on you.” General Coven was the pragmatist in the group; he would be supportive if the logic of an idea were sound, but he had a gifting for seeing ramifications and backlash should said idea go sour. He was a valued member of the Tribal Liberation Force heirarchy.

The third and final member of this Council of Generals was General Saido Mako, a decorated and accomplished brute of a man, both on and off the battlefield. Ambitious, powerful, charismatic, he had been a force of reckoning within the machinations of the Republic for over three decades. He had forgotten more than most soldiers experienced.

“I think the plan has possibility,” he began, “but I am not entirely convinced you’re the right man for the job, Colonel.” The sarcastic emphasis employed on the rank title was just subtle enough to be mistaken, yet bold enough to be heard correctly. “However, since there doesn’t seem to be anyone else stepping forward with such innovative solutions to the problems we face, I will go along with my esteemed colleagues this one time. You have the Council’s unanimous agreement.”

Roc Wieler, Colonel of the Tribal Liberation Force, clicked his heels together, and offered a crisp salute. He was a bit short for a Brutor, but wider across the shoulders than average. He was in full dress regalia for this occasion, and looked every bit the strong officer he was. He was a growing force in the Republic as well, though he didn’t really comprehend his reach. He was ambitious in his military career, but not for any personal or political power. His sole motivation was the liberation of his people. Noble, if not naive.

As Colonel Roc Wieler turned on his heel and left the Council chambers, General Mako couldn’t help but quietly hope Roc Wieler failed.