Monthly Archives: June 2009

The Colonel and the Pirate Part 3

Posted by Roc Wieler on

“We are gathered here today to pay our respects to Spear Lieutenant Daul Halwick.” the clergyman began. The turnout had been more than expected, a testament to the warmth and good hearted nature of the deceased soldier. Many held back tears while others cried in outrage, some holding each other in shock over the entire situation, the reality of it having not yet sunk in.

It was always a tragedy when someone so noble was taken from us too soon.

—

“We are gathered here today to show, beyond a shadow of a doubt, the traitorous intent and actions of Colonel Roc Wieler.” the prosectuor began. The turnout had been more than expected, a testament to the strong response of the very public incident. Many held back tears while others cried in outrage, some holding each other in shock over the entire situation, the reality of it having not yet sunk in.

It was always a tragedy when someone so noble fell so far.

“Colonel Wieler, a good man in his own eyes, will tell you that his motives in this murder were pure; that he is innocent.” the prosecutor continued. “But what I will show you is how both his actions and in his lack of action over the previous several months led to this shocking and unnecessary end.”

—

“Daul Halwick, a good man in all of our eyes; a man of pure motive and innocence.” the clergyman continued. “Those that served with him these previous several months will attest that he was a man of action. To all of us that knew him, this is a shocking and unnecessary end.”

The clergyman paused for a moment, looking at each and every one of those present.

—

The prosecutor paused for a moment, looking at each and every one of those present.

“Colonel Wieler was a slave to the Amarr. While many of us know this isn’t an uncommon past, what is uncommon is the tale of his ‘escape’. A lone man, able to overcome the medically proven and irreversible addictive nature of Vitroc; a lone man able to overpower dozens of highly trained Amarr centurions while suffering from malnourishment; a lone man able to pilot Amarr technology with no previous training; a lone man able to escape Amarr space without incident, to elevate himself to the rank of ‘Capsuleer’, to earn the rank of Matar Colonel within weeks of joining the military; a lone man, whom is obviously not what he seems.”

—

“Daul Halwick was a slave to his past. While many of us know this isn’t uncommon, what is uncommon is how he took charge of his life and overcame his circumstances. A lone man, from the streets of Tanoo in San Matar; a lone man able to generously share food to other unfortunates while he himself suffered from malnourishment; a lone man able to overcome the limitations imposed on him by society and happenstance, a lone man who did better for himself, enrolling in the 105th Minmatar Infantry Corp, earning the rank of Spear Lieutenant within weeks of joining; a lone man, whom was obviously not what he seemed.”

The clergyman cued a cam droid to begin.

Video playback of Daul Halwick filled the room.

—

The prosecutor cued a cam droid to begin.

Video playback of Roc Wieler filled the room.

“I think I’m finally starting to be accepted by them, being treated as an equal.” the recorded voice of Roc Wieler echoed. It was a personal log from several months ago. “It turns out we all have our own prejudices. They haven’t been anything like I expected. I figured they’d be all business, gruff, unkept, without a lick of morality or humour in any of them, but I was wrong. They’re like a family; caring, supportive, there for each other no matter what. Isn’t that something we all want?”

—

“I think I’m finally starting to be accepted by them, being treated as an equal.” the recorded voice of Daul Halwick echoed. It was a personal log from several months ago. “It turns out we all have our own prejudices. They haven’t been anything like I expected. I figured they’d be all business, gruff, unkept, without a lick of morality or humour in any of them, but I was wrong. They’re like a family; caring, supportive, there for each other no matter what. Isn’t that something we all want?”

Another video clip played. This one featured Daul laughing with his platoon mates, enjoying some mischief in an unamed pub. He had a beautiful woman on his arm; she was tall with luxurious brown hair. He looked happy, his eyes glowing with a contented warmth. “To the 105th!” he shouted, a smile on his face. They all lifted their glasses, repeating his toast, then more laughter, more happiness.

—

Another video clip played. This one featured Roc Wieler laughing with the pirates he was assigned to infiltrate, enjoying some mischief in an unamed pub. He had a beautiful woman on his arm; she was tall with fiery red hair. She was later identified as the leader of a known terrorist organization labelled “The Hellcats”. He looked happy, his eyes glowing with a contented warmth. “To the Bastards!” he shouted, a smile on his face. They all lifted their glasses, repeating his toast, then more laughter, more happiness.

Spectators wept. Some began to voice their strong emotions. The prosecutor waited until they quieted before continuing.

Another video played, this one a ship’s camera drone.

It showed a small group of ships, overlayed with identification codes, engaged against a small fleet of the Tribal Liberation Force, the defending force of the Minmatar Republic. The vessel of Roc Wieler was clearly identified, and was easily seen to be shooting upon friendly military ships.

—

Spectators wept. Some began to voice their strong emotions. The clerygman waited until they quieted before continuing.

Another video played, this one an artillery unit’s camera drone.

It showed a small group of soldiers, overlayed with identification codes, engaged against a larger enemy force. Daul Halwick was easy to recognize, seen storming the enemy in a battle frenzy, cutting down his opponent without mercy.

“There is no doubt of Daul Halwick’s bravery. There is no doubt he was a man of honour. There is no doubt he will be missed.” the clergyman said.

—

“There is no doubt of Roc Wieler’s treachery. There is no doubt he is a traitor. There is no doubt he will be found guilty.” the prosecutor said. “The question remains, What do we do now? Do we forget what he has done? Do we turn a blind eye to his despicable acts and continue on naively? No, of course not. There needs to be finality; closure. There needs to be punishment fitting to the crime. An example needs to be made; a warning to those who might follow in his footsteps.”

—

“There is no doubt that Daul Halwick was loved. There is no doubt he was a good man. There is no doubt we will find our lives emptier without him in them.” the clergyman said. “The question remains, What do we do now? Do we forget what he has done? Do we turn a blind eye to his noble acts and continue on naively? No, of course not. There needs to be finality; closure. There needs to be remembrance befitting his life. He has set a high example for any who wish to follow in his footsteps.”

The clergyman closed his eyes.

“I pray that we never forget Daul Halwick, taken from us far too early. I hold true to my pledge that we will uphold his memory with dignity and honour befitting this proud Matari. I encourage each and every one of us to look in our hearts, and to challenge ourselves to live a better life, remembering all the lessons we can learn from Daul Halwick.

Be at peace. Fly safe. Amen.”

—

The prosecutor closed his eyes.

“I pray that we never forget the actions of Roc Wieler. I hold true to my pledge that we will uphold justice and truth, as befitting any proud Matari. I encourage each and every one of us to look in our hearts, and to challenge ourselves to live a better life, remembering all the lessons we can learn from the criminal mistakes of Roc Wieler.

How can there be peace? How can any of us fly safe with a man like this allowed to be free?”

The prosecutor took his seat, his opening monologue to the trial of Roc Wieler finished. He allowed himself a small smile, knowing that not only was he going to win this case, but that he was going to become famous doing so.

—

The clergyman took a seat, his opening monologue to the guests of Daul Halwick’s funeral finished. He allowed himself a small moment of sadness and anger, knowing that not only had they lost a truly pure soul, but that the murderer responsible would never be held to a suitable level of justice for his actions.

The Colonel and the Pirate Part 2

Posted by Roc Wieler on

Author’s note: Please read Mynxee’s The Pirate & The Colonel chapter before continuing.

DAL VI – MOON 1
REPUBLIC JUSTICE DEPARMENT TRIBUNAL

“We’re sorry, Colonel, but we need you to come with us.” the first security escort said as the two of them stood inside of my quarters, having bypassed my security lock. They wore the uniforms and riot gear of TLF Military Police, which meant something had gone wrong, horribly wrong, and I was implicated.

I hadn’t slept a wink that night, and was still working on my rescue plan for Mynxee when they had arrived early in the morning. I wasn’t at my best physically or emotionally, being sleep deprived and wrought with distress over the entire situation.

“May I at least inquire as to why?” I asked politely, yet firmly, slowly reaching to unclip the holster on my sidearm furthest away from their view. I wasn’t about to shoot an MP, but I wasn’t going to go anywhere until someone started giving me answers.

Shakor wouldn’t respond to any of my meeting requests or comm messages. None of my own staff involved on the case would give me any information, even off the record, not even that Halwick kid I had taken under my wing not so long ago. I couldn’t fault any of them for it, duty was duty, and in a way I was proud of their resolve to follow orders, but my mind was set, and I was as stubborn as they came.

I needed to rescue her. I needed to show her I loved her. If that meant leaving this life behind, then so be it; she was worth it. The actions of my superiors in the last twenty four hours had shown me just how valued any one person truly was, regardless of their prior contributions to the cause. We were all just disposable pawns, played when needed, removed from the game board when not.

I was nobody’s pawn.

“Sir, please. Remove your sidearms slowly and place them on the floor.” The second escort said, seeing what I was attempting. I slowly removed my pistols and placed them on the floor, the first escort having his hand on his stun baton while cautiously approaching me. They were treating me like they would any other criminal. It was infuriating.

I stood suddenly, pushing my shoulders back broadly, making them aware of my full presence. They both started for a moment, quickly regaining their composure, one grabbing my wrists and securing binders on me, the second reading me the charges against me.

“Colonel Roc Wieler, you are hereby charged with treason of the highest degree against the Tribal Liberation Force and against the Minmatar Republic. You are also charged with murder in the second degree for the death of Spear Lieutenant Daul Halwick.”

The words hit me like a frigate to the face. Daul was dead? How was that even possible? I had seen him only two days prior. And treason against the Republic? I would never do such a thing. What the hell was going on?

I was thankful that I hadn’t made a scene, or engaged the MPs directly in my quarters; whatever was going on, that would certainly have made things worse for me.

With one MP on each arm, I was walked out of my room during the morning rush hour at Dal station. My sunglasses were removed and confiscated, and I felt completely exposed and vulnerable.

A crowd of pedestrians quickly gathered, gossip spreading like rampant wildfire amongst them as I was escorted into a nearby hovercart, and driven away down the esplanade, strangers staring and judging me the entire way. I hung my head low, feeling the burning shame inflicted upon me by them, but knowing I had done nothing wrong and would eventually be exonerated.

—

“Goddammit!” Maleatu Shakor, Sanmatar of the Republic screamed at me, spittle dripping from his mouth. His face was crimson with an anger I had never seen in him before, veins viciously pulsating in his forehead.

I was seated in a small interrogation room on a metal chair bolted to the concrete floor. A single recessed light fixture illuminated us from above. The two MPs stood on either side of me, with two more heavily armed MPs guarding the door, as well as one more watching from behind a secured mirror panel. My legs had been secured to ankle clamps on the chair, in addition to the binders still secured at my wrists.

“Just talk to me! Tell me why you did it!” Shakor said. “Was it money? Was it power? Did I not mentor you? Did I not give you every opportunity you wanted? Why did you do this?!” More spittle flew from his mouth.

“Talk to you?” I replied, my own anger threatening to make my situation worse. “You mean, like you’ve been talking to me the last few days? If you hadn’t kept me in the dark on this entire operation I could’ve helped prevent this tragedy. If you had…” I was cut off mid-sentence by a stinging slap from the Sanmatar.

“You forget your place, Colonel.” Shakor said, rubbing his hand from the force of his blow. I could feel my cheek swelling, knowing there would be a fine bruise there. Even though he was the most powerful politician in the Republic, the man was an accomplished warrior first, and those were skills you never forgot.

“I don’t answer to you.” Maleatu said, poking his finger into my chest. “You answer to me. Do you get that? Do you understand that?” He repeatedly poked me. “You’ve been spoiled with privilege.” he added.

“You had such potential,” he continued on, turning and walking away from me. “You had so much promise. I was so blinded, forgive the pun, by what I saw in you. You could’ve been a great leader, a wonderful politician. Don’t you see I was grooming you to be the next Sanmatar?”

I felt like a child who had disappointed his father one too many times, had crossed a line where unconditional love no longer applied. I was being disowned by my mentor, but moreso, by the Sanmatar of the Republic. The worst feeling in all of this was that I hadn’t been part of any of the things I stood accused of.

“So let me ask you once again, Colonel Wieler; why did you do it? Was it love? Did you love her? Loved her enough to murder one of your own men? You are a disgrace to the uniform; a disgrace to me.”

“Sanmatar, please, as I’ve said every time I’ve been asked, I had nothing to do with this.” My anger had been replaced with fear. Not fear for the ramifications to the Republic or fear of how the press would feast on this; it had been repeatedly hammered into my dense skull lately that I simply wasn’t that important in the grand scheme of things. It was a fear of failure. I had worked so hard at my career, tirelessly put in effort towards making my life successful in the ways that mattered most: loyalty, honesty, integrity, morality, and now I was being perceived much in the same way I was when held in captivity by the Amarr as a child.

I was a dog.

The Sanmatar was visibly trembling with thinly held rage.

He stormed towards me, his hand raised, his mouth open, and I prepared for another blow. But then he stopped, holding the pose for a moment. He closed his mouth, lowered his hand, and spoke to me gently. His words cut me open more than any physical attack he could’ve made.

“You disappoint me, son.” was all he said, then turned and left the room.

There was no room for self-pity. A good man had died. That is what mattered.

I’m sorry, Daul. I thought to myself. You deserved better, kid.

I had gone over possible scenarios in my mind as to what had could’ve gone down, and came up with countless scenarios, each vastly different from the other.

There were only two themes in common amongst them:

  1. Mynxee was no longer in custody
  2. She had murdered Daul Halwick

I didn’t know how, or why, and I didn’t honestly believe she was capable of doing something so cold blooded, but no matter how it happened, she was responsible for his death. His blood was on her hands… and mine for having ever been so naively taken in by her in the first place.

I nearly laughed out loud at my latest self realization; how quickly passionate and fierce love could transform into vengeful and unrelenting hate. Mynxee had finally made it clear what her position was regarding us, and it suited me just fine.

I swore to myself that one day, no matter where or how it happened, I would hold Mynxee accountable for her actions. There would be no secured return to the Republic for her. There would be no trial; no incarceration.

There was going to be hell to pay. Hell. To. Pay.

Missed Opportunity

Posted by Roc Wieler on

“From mining?” I repeated with incredulity.

“Yeah man! We pulled in just over a billion isk in two hours! It was insane!” Nathan Carver said through our secured comm excitedly.

Nathan had been living in wormhole space for months, only recently venturing out on his own solo expeditions. We had tried once together to find some profit in wormhole space, but it wasn’t in the cards that day.

He sent me a comm, late in the evening, telling me how himself and three miners went into wormhole space, and while he engaged the Sleepers, they emptied the gas clouds.

“I made 70 million in salvage alone. I’m telling you, you need to get out here with me and do this. It’s like stamping your own isk.” Nathan said, his energy level increasing. “I took my Drake, tanked it easily. Man, still can’t get over how much isk we made.”

“And you didn’t comm me earlier because?” I asked playfully, but with just enough inflection as to seem genuinely hurt.

“We were in Caldari high sec.” Nathan replied evenly. “I assumed you wouldn’t have been interested, but if I was wrong, next time I can just …”

“No, no, that’s fine.” I interrupted. “Good call on your end. I’m not exactly a welcomed guest by the State.”

“So after I finished up with the Sleepers, I went and got my Badger. The value of my hold filled with Fullerite was easily 250 mil, but then we took it to a POS and the miners/industrialists refined into some other even more valuable component. So yeah, crazy isk for minimal effort. I totally wish you had been here.” Nathan said.

“You know, Nate.” I began. “When you get all excited like this, you sound like a teenaged boy in heat over some skirt. It’s funny really.”

“Hahaha, well, you sound like that all the time; at least I have an excuse.” Nathan replied.

I have to confess he did have me interested in the profitability, but mining? Please. I had never mined in my life. There were civilians with far more expertise in that field than me. Granted, they wouldn’t ever have access to wormhole mining in their lifetime, but still.

“What kind of mining did you say it was again?” I asked, realizing my mistake as soon as the words left my mouth.

“Gas harvesting!” Nathan replied even more excitedly than before. “I could show you how to do it with about three days of training. Then it’s just isk lining our pockets.”

“Ugh. I can see it now, ‘Colonel Roc Wieler, Miner of the Republic.’ It just has that majestic ring to it.” I said sarcastically.

“Oh get over yourself. Who cares how you get rich so long as you get rich? You’re not much of a gambler, you’re not out there pirating, your not one of those ninja salvagers living off of other people’s hard work, you’re a Colonel in the freaking military. I’m sure that pays you oh so well.” Nathan said, the hints of a lecture forming.

“Alright, alright. I’ll think about it.” I said. “But I swear if you tell anyone that I was mining, I will hunt you down and kill you a hundred times over.”

“Hahaha. Fair enough.” Nathan replied, content just to have won a victory.

I couldn’t believe it. I was actually considering mining. I felt so very dirty.

The Colonel and the Pirate, Part I

Posted by Roc Wieler on

This had been brewing for months and there was nobody to blame but myself.

I could’ve sat philosophically, overanalyzing my motives that brought this moment about, but really, now was the time for action. It didn’t matter if it was done with good intentions; it didn’t matter if it wasn’t. Perhaps in my subconscious it had been a grab at power, I’m sure Sard say would say it was overcompensation, but was it? And again, did it matter? No.

The truth of the situation left me cold. Mynxee, the CEO of the pirate corporation Hellcats, and perhaps the only woman to ever melt my heart, had been captured and interrogated by the very task force I had assembled and set in motion. In principle, I was fine with it; I had warned/pleaded/begged/lectured her since we first became romantically involved that the life she had chosen would inevitably lead her to ruin. The irony of course is that I never once considered it might ruin me.

I had to save her. Wasn’t that the right thing to do?

The dilemma was that I had sworn to serve the Republic at all costs, regardless of my personal feelings. Duty was duty, and it was my strict adherence to my duty that had elevated me to the position I had earned through blood, sweat and tears.

There were few Matar Colonels in the Republic, and I held that honour proudly. The Republic was slowly gaining momentum, slowly redefining its identity, remembering its once proud heritage, and coming together as a unified people. We just needed more time, and more leaders driven to embracing our people, driving them forwards into glory; I wanted to be one of those leaders. It rang true to my heart.

And yet Mynxee was in my heart as well. We had shared much together, and I cherished those memories, and the emotions that welled up inside of me upon thinking of them. The thought of continuing this life without her was almost too much bear. Was this love?

I slammed my fist against the wall of my quarters, as I laid uncomfortably on my bed, having been tossing and turning all night.  An entire day had already passed since the Sanmatar had first delivered the news of Mynxee’s detention, as well as following that up with a clear understanding of my role in this scenario. I was strictly forbidden access to this prisoner, as our romantic relationship was a well known rumour  that if discovered to be true could bring about such a fallout that would ruin both my military and political careers.

Double dipping? The head of the Anti-Pirate Task Force romantically involved with an infamous pirate. That is how the tabloids would read.

I hated to admit it, but the Sanmatar was right. The Republic was still too fragile; a scandal like this would only weaken us. I knew my duty, and it was to the Republic. Forgive me, Mynxee, I had thought to myself at that realization, but felt at peace with the decision. It wasn’t my fault she led the life she did. It wasn’t my fault she was foolish enough to get herself captured.

So why did I feel so damned guilty?

All day, my heart grew heavier and heavier, my conscience weighing me down until I could barely function as a pilot, my thoughts a jumbled blur that half the time spilled over into commands to my Aura unit, which she couldn’t process properly.

I grounded myself temporarily, until I could get my head back in the game. One single woman shouldn’t have been able to affect me so. It was more than physical love, though her face possessed such radiant beauty as to be able to get her way from any man. Her body was sculpted to athletic perfection, but not to the point of losing a single ounce of femininity. And don’t even get me started on her hair! Thick, red, flowing dreadlocks, some down to her heart shaped, firm ass, man!

I pulled myself from that line of thinking, as it clearly wasn’t going to help the situation any.

Shutting myself into my quarters, I spent the rest of my day trying to access the reports surrounding her incarceration, only to find that my access had been revoked. I didn’t know what else to do, and lay torn about the issue.

“Do you want to throw away your career for a woman?” I voiced out loud, hoping that maybe talking myself through it would be of benefit. “Do you even love her? Do you even know if she loves you? Better be damn sure old man.”

I sighed heavily.

“What if she doesn’t? What if you do all this, throw away everything, simply to have her deny your affection? Then what are you left with? Nothing but regret and a broken heart. No woman is worth that. Never forget that.”

I rolled over onto my stomach, still unable to get comfortable. Usually, I was asleep minutes after my head hit the pillow; no such luck tonight.

“But what if she does love you and you do nothing? You’re the only one that can save her, and think of how grateful she’ll be. Of course she loves you, look at all you’ve been through together. You think that sexual tension is just for show? She wants you as much as you want her. Why do you think you can’t sleep? If you’re willing to listen to your heart, you know what the right thing is to do.”

I sat straight up, my moment of epiphany upon me.

I had to do it. I had to rescue her. I had to be with her.

—

Motherfucker, Mynxee thought to herself, curling her legs tightly to her chest on a stone bench within her cell. She had been there three days, and hadn’t even heard from him. Goddamn him!

She was left only in basic undergarments, and was shivering with cold; her cell seeming very archaic compared to some of the prisons she had spent time in over the years. Leave it to us Minmatar to have the crappiest jails in New Eden, she echoed in her mind, laughing. It had been a long time since she’d been in a Republic jail.

The dank walls were split only by the solid steel door with two slits in it, one at eye level for the guard to check on her, the other much lower to slide food to her. She had eaten some horrible food in her lifetime, but even this had been pushing the limits of her intestinal fortitude.

Thinking of food made her stomach grumble. The door double tapped, and despite herself, she hoped it was Roc. Her hope didn’t spring from longing or romantic desire, or some typical notion that he would somehow magically set things right, and she would be free, no. She wanted to see him personally so she could spit on him, tell him to fuck himself and his misguided ethics, tell him she didn’t need to be saved from the life she loved, and relish in the resulting look on his face.

Yes, she cared about him deeply at one point, but he had gone too far; he had crossed the line with this latest escapade of his. The Hellcats and the Bastards wouldn’t stand for this. She knew she wouldn’t be here much longer, one way or the other.

The upper slit slid open, revealing piercing blue eyes. It wasn’t Roc. It was the same man that brought her food every evening shift; he had called himself Daul.

He was the only one that had been gentle with her, the only one to treat her as a human being, and not some stray, sickly dog that deserved to be beaten.

The lower slit opened, and he pushed a tray of hot food into her cell. Her stomach growled in earnest, the scent of the hot dumplings the foulest aroma she had ever known.

She devoured the plate of food, gagging only once on its horrid taste, picturing her favourite steak dinner and wine as she ate.

With food in her stomach, her temperment softened slightly, and her thoughts turned once again to Roc Wieler. The Colonel, she harumphed sarcastically.

Where had they gone wrong? Had it been destined to fail from the very beginning? Was she so blinded by his chiselled jaw and carved body that she had let her judgement waver?

Her heart raced thinking of him now. He is dead sexy, she allowed herself to indulge, remembering his touch, the security and warmth of his arms around her.

And she loved his insecurity. He hid it well, but nowhere near as well as he thought. It added a humourous awkwardness to the otherwise ‘gruff’ persona he projected. She wondered how long he had worked on that, and if he really thought anyone bought into it.

That made her chuckle slightly, the first time she had smiled since being brought here.

She scowled at the realization, her mind racing to scorn once more.

Whatever they had shared, it obviously hadn’t meant as much to him as it had to her. Fuck him.

Wormholing

Posted by Roc Wieler on

“She looks good.” I said to my chief mechanic. “Hopefully she’ll do the intended job.”

“She’ll be treatin’ ye right, lad. None of yer fluff, all yer meat.” my chief mechanic replied.

I had christened her the Kubwa, my first battlecruiser, a Hurricane class ship. The entire fit had been just over 100 million isk, but I figured I should get some solid experience in wormholes before taking my 2 billion isk fit Slepnier in there. My crew was slowly becoming comfortable with that size of ship, but I wouldn’t consider us capable yet.

My old friend Nathan Carver had been involved in a wormhole colony the last few months, their entire existence based in wormhole space. They had several POSes setup, and had regularly made their way into class 6 Sleeper facilities. Meanwhile, their Empire team would transport required goods and materials where needed. The entire colony experiment was thriving well, raking in billions of isk.

The war against the Amarr continued to drain my personal finances, so any quick influx of isk was welcome.

We met in Hek at 20:00 hours.

“Alright, I’ll scan us down something.” Nathan said.

“Sure thing, Nate. I’ll just sit here and look sexy I guess.” I replied. My Hurricane was an artillery fit, six 650 mm IIs at the ready. Complimenting those was a standard missle launcher, and a salvager. “Range and tank were they key”, Nathan had said to me when first discussing this opportunity. “The salvager just makes it easier so we don’t have to keep going back and forth.” he had also mentioned.

It wasn’t the strongest fit Hurricane in the galaxy, but I trusted Nathan’s expertise in this enough to fit accordingly. Now I just had to sit and wait.

I looked at the Tribal Liberation Force channel, keeping my eyes open for any potential threat coming our way. Nathan was no longer military, but I was still a Colonel, and though he had come in his Nighthawk which might make small gangs a little wary, we were anything but untouchable.

“Nice. Nailed it on the first try.” Nathan chimed in within minutes. “Warp to me and let’s take a look.” Soon I was sitting in front of the wormhole. It was a glorious and mesmerizing phenomenon, far more beautiful than I remembered from the wormhole I remembered when rescuing Sam from the fleet of Dreadnoughts. Of course, at that time I was focused on staying alive, not sitting around enjoying the scenery.

We jumped through the wormhole, landing in Amarr space, 31 jumps from our original destination. Fortunately, it was lowsec, or I was sure their militia would’ve responded accordingly to my presence. We returned through the wormhole, as it wasn’t what we were looking for, but I made a bookmark, as the destination would be useful to me over the coming days for quick hit and runs into Amarr space, at least until the wormhole collapsed.

We travelled through a few dead end systems, Nathan explaining the higher probability of not being bothered to me, and we eventually found another cosmic signature.

Warping to the signature, we came across an Orca. It didn’t retreat right away, which left us with the dilemma of whether or not to attack it. Being in high sec, the answer was no, but if the Orca was going into the wormhole, we could get away with it there. A fat bellied Orca always meant isk, though the pirating nature of the attack Nathan was discussing didn’t sit well with me at the time. My friend had changed since leaving the militia.

I opened a conversation with the Orca pilot. Turned out he was just leaving the wormhole, his gang having just made a successful run against the Sleepers. We were welcome to explore if we wanted, but he assured me we wouldn’t find anything.

I relayed this to Nathan, whom decided the pilot might be less than truthful, and we entered the wormhole.

Once on the other side, we quickly warped to different locations, scanning all the while for other capsuleers, as well as the nefarious Sleepers.

“I’ve got a lot of wrecks on scan.” I said, seeing that the Sleepers had indeed encountered the Orca pilot’s friends.

“Roger that. Looks like the Orca pilot was right; this place has been picked clean. Let’s head out.” Nathan said.

Several systems later, Nathan scanned down another wormhole. This time as we arrived, a single Jaguar pilot was sitting in front of it.

After some friendly conversation, it turned out he had been scanning this region as well, but everything had already been scavenged. We invited him to our fleet, but he declined, a little disappointed at having the last several hours looking for a fresh wormhole without success.

We wished him well and continued on our way to the next system on our route.

Jackpot.

Sleeper facilities everywhere with plenty of Sleepers to engage. We had them on scan, but before jumping in, Nathan took the time to brief me on our aggression strategy.

After getting charged up about the impending assault, I did one more quick scan of the Sleeper facility, and quickly aborted the warp cycle I had began.

“Abort!” I yelled into comms. Thankfully, Nathan was quick, and prevented his ship from entering warp.

“Two Ravens, a Dominix, and Broadsword just showed up on scan, probably in that Sleeper facility.” I said, thinking how fortunate we had been to have not been caught already engaged when they arrived.

“Dammit!” Nathan said. “I swear it’s not usually like this. Of course, we are only go in one level deep, looking for class 1 and 2. Nobody bothers you when you get to class 4 and higher.”

I looked at my chrono. I had to report for duty in five hours.

“I hate to say it, Nate, but I think I’m gonna have to call it. Gotta report for duty in five hours, so need my beauty sleep. We’ll do this again though, ok?”

“Yeah, we will. Next time we’ll have more luck. That I promise.” Nate replied, anger and disappointment in his voice.

We said our goodbyes, and I docked the Hurricane in Hek, grabbing Vigil I had recently fitted based on a recommendation from General Sasawong, and headed back to Dal.

—

AUGA SYSTEM

My engineers were working swiftly at locking down the Major Minmatar Stronghold. They had been attacked recently by the Amarr, and were in need of repair. Failure to do so would result in the Amarr being able to pass through Auga unmolested, and that wasn’t acceptable.

They estimated just over four more minutes to complete their task.

There were a few other TLF pilots in the area with me: a Rifter, a Stabber, and a Reaper of all things. We weren’t working as a fleet; I had scanned down this complex, discovering their communications array had been destroyed, and broadcast its location on the local overview. The other pilots had quickly flocked here for the opportunity to earn some honour through potential battle.

They wouldn’t have to wait long. A single Rifter entered our location, and my HUD immediately flagged him as neutral. In a warzone, neuts were never to be trusted.

Nobody moved towards him, so I took the initiative. After all, it was my engineers aboard the stronghold.

I prepped my single autocannon and missle launcher, launching a lone Warrior II drone to engage him. I had no scambling or webbing capabilities, but if I could frighten him off, that was all I needed really.

Of course, in hindsight, if the sight of the aforementioned ships didn’t scare off a single Rifter, that either meant he had more company coming, or was a complete idiot.

Turned out to be the latter.

My Vigil wasn’t really built for DPS, or tackling, it was strictly a small tank for plexing. Still, with some overheating and the Warrior II, I was slowly taking him down.

What amazed me the most is that he wasn’t leaving, even as he entered hull; nor did he target my drone, at least not until the very end.

He just kept pursuing me, his shots skimming off my shields effortlessly. I was stunned, still anticipating the arrival of more ships, but none came.

His ship exploded, but as I said, no scramming capability, so his pod escaped to fight another day.

Examining his wreck revealed the following:

  • 150mm Light Autocannon II
  • 5W Infectious Power System Malfunction
  • J5b Phased Protoype Warp Scrambler
  • Gyrostabilizer II
  • Damage Control II

What the hell? Regardless, I was cautiously thankful for the victory, and proceeded to retrieve my engineers.

Just another day of war I suppose.