KPB7-G SYSTEM
SANSHA REGIONAL OUTPOST

“It’s a capsuleer, commander!” the Sansha comms officer screamed through his mental connection to the Overseer. “Forward scout shows a single Cynabal cruiser waiting at the acceleration gate.”

The Sansha Nation was one of the more powerful pirate factions, in so much that they ‘absorbed’ others into their collective. They called it liberation; naming their recruits ‘True Slaves’, sedated with drugs, cybernetically fused with all horrors of machinery, all under the control of one man, Sansha Kuvakei; despot, madman, genius. An entire nation of people, single minded in following the will of Sansha.

The Overseer knew that their culling would not succeed with a capsuleer inbound. He also knew how desperately they needed the boon of recruits they had found in this system. They would not retreat from the capsuleer this time.

Within moments, the Overseer had commanded his forces to scramble, bringing online several web stasis towers, as well as over a dozen battleships, cruisers and frigates to defend against the immortal capsuleer.

The Overseer received the report that the capsuleer had used the acceleration gate, and was now hurtling through warp towards them.

They would be waiting.

—

I was engaged as soon as I exited warp; the Sansha Nation had known I was coming. I launched my entire complement of drones, five Valkyrie II models, and steeled myself for battle.

Within seconds three separate stasis towers had locked onto me, and even with my micro warp drive at optimal output, my ship was slowed to 30 m/s. With no transverse velocity, I was a sitting duck. I hoped my shields held.

The Valkyries swarmed the nearest frigate, and I concentrated my fire on the same ship. It exploded quickly, and I was keen on taking victories where I could. Each loss to my enemy lessened the damage to my ship and potentially eroded their will to continue the fight.

My shields dropped to 20%, four separate salvos of heavy missiles hitting with full impact. I boosted my shields, overheating them to squeeze every last second I could out of them.

A second frigate went down. I redirected the drones to the nearest stasis tower, well out of reach of my autocannons. This fight wouldn’t last much longer if I couldn’t destroy those towers.

It was almost as though the enemy fleet had read my thoughts. Another salvo from the battleships and my shields were depleted, my armour evaporated. It was almost surreal how quickly it happened.

ALLIANCE CHANNEL: ” Emergency CTA. All pilots report for combat. Rally system is N 8.”

Lovely.

I willed the drones to return as I aligned for the nearest star. I needed out before my Cynabal was torn from me. It was going to be close. 3.8 seconds to align, drones were enroute. I wasn’t waiting if they didn’t make it.

The warp drive hummed, spinning up to speed. The drones entered their bay moments before the stars elongated and I was away, my ship in tatters around me.

—

The Overseer smiled, even though they had lost a welcome addition to the Nation. Still, repelling a capsuleer was no small feat. Knowing the capsuleers to be a tenacious lot, the Overseer accelerated his plans. The culling needed to be completed, and quickly.

—

I docked up for emergency repairs. I had obviously underestimated the strength of the Sansha base I had scanned down earlier. I had heard rumours about the Sansha Nation; some said they were a zombie army, others said they were cyborgs, others still said they were a human drone collective. In my experience, their ships blew up just like anyone else’s, and Concord paid well for that.

The money wasn’t my primary motivation of course. The Sansha Nation was a well known pirate operation, and I was most definitely anti-pirate. And if any of the rumours were true, then they were also slavers. I hated slavers.

I scanned the Alliance Channel. Large fleet activity forming up.

“Roc Wieler, reporting in.”

“Are you enroute to the rendezvous system, pilot?” the fleet commander replied.

“Negative, sir. Need to get myself a decent ship together out here. Shouldn’t take longer than … 30 minutes.”

“Christ pilot, how can you live out here and not have a stockpile of ships? Get to it. Every ship counts.”

“Wieler out.”

—

Two hours later I had nearly given up. Two hours later I had traveled to multiple alliance systems, using our jump bridge network, under the direction of various pilots as to where I could equip my ship sufficiently. Two hours later I still hadn’t managed to find a single component worth buying.

I should’ve just made the trip to Rens and back.

The most enlightening part of that two hours was listening to our alliance fleet move from system to system, falling under attack from an allied gatecamp, more than once, and our fleet commander demanding reimbursement for lost ships. Tempers were flaring, morale was down, and the real enemy had yet to surface.

Two hours of effort, and the best I could do was an ill-fitted Stabber. It would be a waste of a ship to take it into battle; a waste of my time. The fleet was in disarray, and if experience was any teacher, it was bound to disband soon. By the time I got to the rendezvous system, I would more than likely just be turning around to head back towards the Sansha Regional HQ I had discovered.

I assessed the strength of the HQ in my mind, having Aura do up a squad configuration for what I might need. Looked like I would need a strong tank, maybe a drake, a remote repper of some sort, and additional DPS in order to make short work of the Sansha Nation.

My gut told me time was of the essence.

I received no response in my corporation channel when asking for assistance with the Sansha, so switched over to Alliance chat. That was a mistake.

“You’re asking for carebear help during a CTA? Are you stupid? Kick this idiot.”

“We’re in a CTA. WTF are you doing?”

These types of comments flooded my screen. I sighed heavily.

“They were attacking a civilian colony. Our help is needed.”

This received much laughter, further derision, and finally my removal from the fleet by the fleet commander.

Well, that settled that.

In my short time serving with Ushra’Khan, it had been my first request for assistance. My belief, my entire reason for joining U’K, was the impression that we both stood for freedom and the liberation of innocents no matter where we found them.

Apparently, not everyone got that memo.

I returned to KBP7-G to recon the Sansha HQ. The familiar hum of the acceleration gate greeted me. I did a quick scan through to the other side. No results. Hmmm.

I warped through, my mind ready to respond in a heartbeat. If they had reinforced their position, this would be even more impossible than before, but I had to at least try.

A drape of darkness, pierced with pinholes of light, was all that greeted me. The colony was abandoned. The Sansha Nation had moved on.

I did a quick scan of the site. No life signs. I had been too late.

I put in a quick call to the Sisters of EVE, letting them know what had happened at this location, and asked them to send one of their teams. They were more adept at this sort of rescue operation than I was.

Thousands of innocent lives destroyed, beings lost as ‘True Slaves’ to Sansha. Ushra’Khan unable and unwilling to help. I mumbled a silent curse under my lips, not knowing that only days later Ushra’Khan would be betrayed and disbanded.

I docked my ship in KBP7-G Battle station. There is no happy ending to this entry, only regret.