Category Archives: Roc’s Ramblings

Random spewings from the mouth of Roc Wieler

The Return of Capsuleer

Posted by Roc Wieler on

CCP Atlas posted about Monetizing 3rd Party Apps

Which resulted in this massive comment thread

I made my personal opinions known during my CSM 6 campaign HERE  and HERE

Quick History Lesson on Capsuleer

Capsuleer was the premier iPhone application for EVE Online. A clean design, a friendly UI, optimized coding and quick server response ensured a successful app. And successful it was, with over 60,000 active users within its first six months on the market.

Within those first six months CCP also took notice of the effort of Roc Wieler and PyjamaSam’s project, and invited us to Iceland for Fanfest, resulting in a discussion to develop a business relationship for developing Capsuleer into all its glory.

The meeting went well, resounding with excitement about our early prototypes for future functionality, as well as our vision for where the app could go in the future. We both left this meeting with high hopes for the future of Capsuleer.

Roles

I need to make a couple of things clear about who did what on Capsuleer.

PyjamaSam was the programming powerhouse behind the project. In fact, he had started on an unnamed version of his API application about the same time I was trolling the Technology forum looking for a EVE Online iPhone app.

As fate would have it, we got along, lived close to each other, and formed a partnership.

As for me, I did the designs, the usability, the quality assurance, the marketing, the community management, and the business dealings for Capsuleer. It was a great joint venture. PyjamaSam is the best programmer I have ever worked with hands down, possessing a brilliance and ability to learn quickly unlike anything I have ever experienced previously or since.

I like to think I did a good job with the pretty and making the application popular. I’m hoping the incredibly active community we had would agree.

The End of Capsuleer

Following our return from Iceland, we were hopeful, as I mentioned above. Those hopes were soon turned to despair as over the following eighteen months there was little to no honest communication from CCP. Every inquiry received a pat response: “We’re very interested and will get back to you within 30 days to progress this”, “We’re on vacation right now but will get back to you in two weeks”, “We’re still very interested but our resources are stretched thin, please be patient”, “We’re not sure who will fund your project; which department it will fall under”, etc, etc.

Incredibly demoralizing.

All the while Capsuleer was growing to critical capacity. We had a solid relationship with EON Magazine in place, offering only the same ads on our home screen as users would see when logging into EVE Online. We never once considered displaying non EVE related ads for profit. That was never what we were about.

Server costs, development costs, stress levels with CCP kept growing, and the donations we did receive, while appreciated, were no where near enough to offset what was needed to continue the behemoth that Capsuleer had become in our lives.

It was only this  last Fanfest that I found out our primary contact at CCP during this process had actually left the company, and nobody thought to mention this to us, or provide us a new point of contact to continue dealing with. Eighteen months and only then do I get a chance response. Lovely.

Inevitably, we had to make decisions for ourselves. Continue consuming our lives building out incredible features for Capsuleer, many beyond simple API integration, or try to take back our lives and maintain some type of work/life balance, our sanity, our marriages.

The choice was simple. Capsuleer was no more.

Community Response

The community responded poorly to the news for the most part. While those who had been involved in our forums and walked with us every step of the way understood our reasoning, the majority of the EVE player base believed that because we couldn’t get paid, we simply took our toys and went home. We both laughed at that considering almost every member of the EVE community believes in profit.

Still, it made us sad to think that the final memory of all our efforts was that we were two selfish bastards who simply sulked, left, and that was that. There were even cries to make it open source. If we really loved community we’d at least do that!

As I tried to explain several times unsuccessfully, and will probably do so again now, you simply don’t make something “open source”. There are standards, licensing platforms; a lot of work involved for a project we had just walked away from. Additionally, Capsuleer was 99% custom code by PyjamaSam in the end, having rewritten most of Apple’s framework to be more lightweight and responsive than what is provided in their SDK.

So no, Capsuleer wasn’t going open source.

CCP Licensing Announcement

At Fanfest 2011, CCP announced $99 developer licensing, though they didn’t go into the specifics. Honestly, I’m not even going to offer an opinion on the newly introduced licensing structure, as I no longer care. I am simply an EVE player enjoying a game. I have no interest in any further business dealings with CCP at all.

And that’s that.

So once again I want to thank my good friend PyjamaSam, who continues to be an even better friend since we put this behind us, for everything we went through together trying to make Capsuleer the official EVE Online iPhone application. You’re an incredible guy. What more can be said?

Thanks to our loyal community. Without you, Capsuleer wouldn’t have set the bar that others still fail to reach.

And thanks to CCP for giving us an API to play with that allowed us to reach out to so many. I still think it’s brilliant that you let us interact with the game in this way, though there is much room for improvement here.

I know PyjamaSam has not a single regret looking back. Nor do I.

We did discuss the possibility of starting Capsuleer up again just yesterday when the announcement was posted; fresh look, dulled pain. While we both admit there are certain aspects of Capsuleer development we miss, those do not compare to the joy we each get from where our lives are currently.

Finally, thank you Capsuleer. Because of you, we’ve each been involved in other iPhone/iPad/Android applications, having learned so much from bringing you to life.

TL;DR

Capsuleer will not be returning.

Rocwear

Posted by Roc Wieler on

Rocwear is an exclusive lifestyle brand with a wide range of customers launched by superstar icon Roc Wieler, retired Colonel of the Tribal Liberation Force. Rocwear has presented a bold and fresh new way to regulate the fashion industry in the creation of remarkable clothing for men’s big and tall which includes jeans, graphic tees and shirts as well as a women’s and children’s clothing line. To add to the expansion of the brand are accessories including hats, belts, lounge wear and boxers. Attention to detail and maintaining a reputation for providing intelligent innovations in fabrication and design to its customers have increased their appeal beyond the core urban customer making this brand a dynasty. Rocwear always guarantees you’ll attract every accessory you want.

How could I resist? You can download the full sized wallpaper HERE.

Never start a fight you can win

Posted by Roc Wieler on

Roc’s Rule #42 – Never start a fight you can win.

Truthfully, that should be rule #1, but as many of you know, the original 40 rules came from Schlock Mercenary.

Nevertheless, I often get asked what does rule 42 mean? Does it mean go pick a fight with the largest drunk Brutor you see at a pub? Maybe. But it goes much deeper than that.

No matter where you are in life, no matter what your level of perceived success or failure you currently envision for yourself, we’re all comfortable and complacent. Don’t confuse those two things.

I enjoy comforts. I’m thankful for the comforts afforded to my life:

  • I love my wife and everything she adds to my continued being
  • I appreciate the abundance and variety of foods, clothing, entertainment, gadgetry and what not that are available to me
  • I relish the career I have that enables me to push myself further both with corporate activities as well as pursuits abroad
  • I am blessed with a strong support network that continually encourages me to do more, to do better
  • I am thankful for the freedoms I enjoy, for being able to choose my own path, to strive for personal and community excellence
  • I’m enriched by all the advancements of the last twenty years that make personal growth so much more attainable in every aspect

It’s a positive thing to understand and appreciate the comforts in your life. If you have a healthy outlook, these can actually catalyze your personal growth and development.

Being complacent, however, is a bad thing; a very bad thing. It happens when we start taking our comforts for granted, allowing them to dictate our lifestyle instead of the other way around.

Look at your body. It didn’t get that way over night. It took years. It might’ve been how you were raised. It might be due to medical conditions or other genuine factors, but for the vast majority of us, it was part complacency, and part ignorance. We didn’t know better. We weren’t educated. As our bodies matured and developed, our eating habits, our exercise routines, all the things that should’ve grown in sync with the growing needs of our mind, body and soul, simply didn’t. Next thing we know we’re stuck in a person that depresses us, and many of us give up trying to make things better before we even start.

The same applies to our careers, our education, our spiritual lives, our personal relationships, our hobbies, our goals, pretty much everything that defines who we are. Complacency is a life killer, plain and simple.

That needs to end. I do mean now.

Nice rant, I know, but what does it have to do with the damn rule?

Never start a fight you can win.

An example:

If you could magically get in shape with a single day of colossal effort, being able to go from where you are right now to your absolute ideal self image, would you do it?

You’ve probably already said yes if we’re being honest with ourselves. That would be a fight we could win. There is no victory in it. It didn’t challenge us to grow beyond our comfort zone, or to learn any lasting life lessons. The reality is you can’t undo in one day what took years to do in the first place. It simply doesn’t work that way. Not if you want that lifestyle to last.

It takes time. Time can be demotivating. Time can become mundane, boring, tiresome, so we stop, we give up. It’s a fight that we can’t win without daily conscious effort. It takes extreme willpower, which doesn’t come overnight either. It takes dedication, courage, confidence, support, a change in mental attitude and emotional well-being as well as improvements to body.

Another example.

If I said walk to that spot 10 feet away, you could most likely do it.

There would be no victory in that win. There was no challenge. If I said run a 42.2 km marathon right now, you’d laugh, or not even bother, or think you might be able to accomplish a smaller distance, etc, etc, but you realize running the marathon is a fight you couldn’t win.

Those are the fights worth fighting.

What would it take for you to be able to run a marathon? What obstacles are in your way? How could you overcome them? Then as Nike says, just do it.

That is the essence of the rule. Push yourself to accomplish things you never dreamed you could. When you do, the immense sense of satisfaction will be overwhelming, and you will find yourself quickly creating bigger and bigger challenges for yourself. It’s a positive spiral all around. It’s a key to truly living.

This applies to all areas of our lives, not just personal fitness.

I’m not close to my brother. It’s a fight I can’t win, in my mind. So right now, while typing this, I am setting a goal for myself. I am going to make the effort to spend time with my brother, listening to him, getting to know him, understanding him. Judging him hasn’t worked. Pitying him hasn’t worked. Condemning him hasn’t worked. Ignoring him hasn’t worked. Our relationship hasn’t been enriched by any of the comfortable things I have done thus far. It’s time for me to try something different, something uncomfortable. I’m not really sure how to go about it yet, but I will be.

For that, sometimes we need help. It’s ok to ask for help. I ask for help all the time from qualified people. You’ll be surprised how many people are more than willing to be there for you, to offer up support and qualified knowledge on a given topic, whether in person or through the internet community.

Take advantage of that. Change your life. Seize the moment. Never start a fight you can win.

I’m here for you. I can’t always guarantee that will be true. None of us can. Examine every aspect of your life right now. Write things down that you want to improve, maybe things that have defeated you in the past. Post that list somewhere for you to see, to remind yourself that you deserve better, that you can do better, that you will do better.

Get equipped with knowledge. Get equipped with dedication and perseverance. Get equipped with the attitude that says “I’m going to improve my life or die trying.”

If you’ve read this far, you know I’m speaking the truth because what you’ve done thus far simply hasn’t been working for you.

So please, be encouraged, be motivated, but don’t let that feeling go away. Don’t get overwhelmed by setbacks or failures along your path. Each day is a new opportunity. Didn’t hit your goal today? Oh well, do better tomorrow. Don’t give up.

I believe in you.

Yurbuds

Posted by Roc Wieler on

As most of you know by now, I’m not your typical, muscle atrophied capsuleer. By no means should I be considered a bodybuilder, but rather a retired military Colonel that continues to pursue the ideal of “functional muscle”.

I’ve taken up distance running these last few years, as well as other forms of intense exercise to combat the aging of this body. Thus far, that war has been a success despite my learning the following:

My right ear canal is oddly shaped.

It probably doesn’t seem like a big deal at first, and it really isn’t in the grand scheme of things, but when you’re wearing headphones blaring the latest and greatest workout tunes, and your right headphone keeps falling off, it frustrating as hell. It ruins your rythmn, your productivity, your mood, your motivation. Such a simple thing with such a big impact.

It actually got to the point where I simply stopped listening to music during these intense routines, which of course led to boring and repetitive movement, and meditation during exercise only goes so far before my attention span waned.

That led to excuses as to why I couldn’t exercise on a particular day, at a particular time, blah, blah. We all make excuses.

I tried every sort of headphone you can think of: earbuds, over the ear, full headphones; and all of them either fail to stay in my ear or are so bulky as to be unusable during exercise.

Enter Yurbuds.

I was greeted by a slick website design, high quality photography, and an explanation as to why the company came into existence. Earbuds created by an athlete (marathon and triathalon, right up my alley) for athletes.

I read the explanation on the patented lock technology and was impressed.

The price was right, so I ordered the Ironman series Yurbuds.

At this point I’m starting to realize the internet hates me.

Once again, I had trouble with an ecommerce website. The irony infuriates me as I am a very tech savvy person, so maybe it’s karma screwing with me. Who knows?

Anyway, after several attempts I think I managed to order my headphones.

I downloaded their iPhone app, which actually will help you measure your ear for your custom pair of Yurbuds. It took another few tries, a few app crashes, and a few creative curses on my part, but it submitted, then wanted to place the order. Hell, I did things out of order.

So now I’m not sure if my order was successful despite the Order confirmation email I received, nor if my ear photo upload was successful for them to customize the ear piece for me.

So off to Twitter I go, messaging @Yurbuds about my concerns.

They responded within minutes and I provided my email address and order id. Not long after, they message me that they have found the order and escalated its priority, as well as passing on my comments regarding website issues.

Two days later, my Yurbuds arrive: a full set of headphones, an extra pair of Yurbuds, a slick carrying bag, and two inspirational trading cards, which are a great idea (Can you smell Roc inspiring trading cards next Fanfest?). Also included was a convenient quickstart guide.

This morning, I did my 5 km run at 5 AM, during a thunderstorm, Yurbuds in place. They were comfortable the entire time, not moving a millimeter. The sound quality was impeccable, yet still allowed me to hear everything else around me, which is a plus when your exercising outdoors.

For the price, this custom quality set of headphones can’t be beat for its designed purpose of enhancing your exercise experience.

PRODUCT QUALITY = 9/10
SOUND QUALITY = 8/10
SERVICE QUALITY = 10/10
OVERALL RATING = 9/10

VISIT YURBUDS NOW

OOC: Oh for Dust’s Sake!

Posted by Roc Wieler on

JUNE 6, 2011
REYKJAVIK, ICELAND and LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA
CCP and Sony Computer Entertainment Inc. (SCEI) today announced an agreement to bring the groundbreaking persistent shooter DUST 514® exclusively to PlayStation®3 computer entertainment system in Summer 2012. DUST 514 is the first console game to link players in real time with a multiplayer universe on the PC, CCP’s award winning sci-fi MMO EVE Online.

My first reaction? Shit.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not going to waste time being an “Xbox Fanboi”, one of those diehards who thinks that the particular console they own is the only one that should be owned. If that were true, and others agreed, then other consoles wouldn’t exist, yet they do. Go figure.

But I am a geek. A huge geek. A huge geek that can probably put you into the ground in real life, and has no need to hide behind the anonymity of the internet to put my opinions out there. I’m not going to resort to calling people “XBox fags”, or use other infantile terms, because my intelligence, my maturity, my character, are greater than that.

So back to being a geek. I develop software. I tinker with hardware. My close circle of friends builds automated drones, tractors, self-monitoring houses, and other fun things to occupy our minds.

Even if I didn’t think so highly of myself, I would still be entitled to my opinion, and this is it.

PS3 only is the wrong choice for DUST 514.

Of course, saying it doesn’t make it true, so let’s dig deeper.

  1. PS3 hardware is superior to XBox hardware. It really is. Games like Uncharted, Infamous, God of War, Heavenly Sword and more are all beautiful games. Hell, even Mass Effect renders and plays better on PS3 than it does on XBox. For offline gaming, PS3 wins hands down in my books. I can completely understand why CCP liked this aspect of the console. CCP loves shiny. We all know that. But DUST 514 isn’t an offline game, is it? It’s supposed to be a MMO for the console. I’m sure CCP has done some preliminary testing. Maybe even with as many as 40 people. But it’s doubtful to me, given my experience with any form of large scale online play over the PlayStation Network, that the PlayStation platform simply cannot sustain the numbers online to make DUST 514 a success. Shiny won’t matter at less than 1 frame per second. Don’t believe me? Try playing a game like Need for Speed against other players in a full race and you’ll see why the PS3 fails online.
  2. XBox hardware is outdated some say. Yet wasn’t it just last year they released a new box? No more ring of death? No more overheating? Yes, yes they did. What has PS3 done lately for its hardware? Oh right. Nothing.
  3. Blu Ray player. You know, I can’t remember the last time I watched a movie on a physical Blu Ray. Can you? This used to be a great selling point back in the day. Remember Blu Ray vs HD DVD? Yeah, Microsoft would like to forget as well. My point is, with Netflix, Zune, home media networks, and other mechanisms for viewing everything digitally, that having one of the best Blu Ray players on the market isn’t really a strong selling point anymore for PS3, and has absolutely nothing to do with DUST 514 anyway. As an aside, I still can’t believe that all of us as consumers find it acceptable to wait 30+ seconds for a Blu Ray to load; no wonder we all went digital so quickly.
  4. Free online play via the PlayStation network. My account iz hackd! There’s been a lot of crying about the recent attack and subsequent closure of the PlayStation Network. Personally, I don’t think this will still be an issue by the time DUST is released in 2012. Many recent PS3 titles have suffered from this, notably Mortal Kombat for me, but I am confident Sony is doing everything in their power to implement the correct solution in a timely manner. I expect they will fully recover from this fiasco. If they don’t, DUST is the least of their concerns. Of course, XBox Live has a free online service as well, and offers paid content in a very similar manner to the PlayStation network. I’m going to give the edge to XBox Live simply because Microsoft continues to make great releases/updates to it every few months; something that can’t be said for Sony.
  5. Kinect. I really don’t need to say anything more there, but for you PS3 owners reading this, I will. Kinect has been, and will continue to be a game changer; literally. The hardware is far superior to any other gaming hardware out there, and there have been countless innovative uses of it. It’s an affordable robotics kit really, and many tinkerers have torn it apart and done amazing things. As far as gaming goes, according to E3 2011 (coincidentally on June 6), there is a slew of upcoming games that leverage more of the power of Kinect than any of the released titles to date. Mass Effect 3, for example, allows full voice commands for squad actions. Could that be useful in DUST? You better believe it. Or the next Ghost Recon that lets you use your hand to customize your gun in real time? Nah, that couldn’t be useful at all in a space shooter. Simply put, PS3 can’t compete with Kinect. Period.
  6. Market Share. According to Wikipedia, as of June 2011, XBox has a greater market share than PS3 by over 5 million; a substantial number of potential DUST customers being ignored.

There are other factors at play of course. Some say that Microsoft is too strict with the way things work within their marketplace, yet somehow games like Halo, Dragon Age, Mass Effect, Mortal Kombat and others have always managed to get by just fine. In fact, many of those titles are even cross platform, being sold for XBox and PS3 alike. So why not DUST?

  • We all know CCP is not a behemoth in the gaming industry. Not yet anyway. Sure, EVE Online continues to do well, but as a veteran player of that game I can tell you its mostly reactive bursts of initiative to quell rising user complaints than anything ongoing and proactive to make the game better. CCP itself has made it clear that the majority of their development efforts are being spent on the upcoming World of Darkness, to honour their committed launch date to partner White Wolf Publishing. Where’s the rest of their resources going? DUST 514.
  • I am confident they have neither the manpower nor the finances to develop DUST 514 for both PS3 and XBox. At the end of the day, they had to choose whom to get in bed with. They chose Sony. This was probably done before Kinect was even a buzzword. This was probably done because CCP is new at console development and saw the PS3 as the easier platform to develop their product on. I don’t honestly know. I’m basing this on my own personal and professional experiences with CCP from a business standpoint, having been a co-developer of the now defunct Capsuleer iPhone application for EVE Online.

CCP is great at ideas. They aren’t so good at business.

There has been some debate on Twitter amongst EVE Online’s #tweetfleet about the wording of the announcement; particularly the part about “premiering exclusively” on the PS3. Some seem to think this indicates there will be a follow up release for the XBox shortly thereafter.

Doubtful.

As I mentioned, CCP has neither the money nor expertise to pull this off on both platforms successfully for initial launch. But, if the microtransactions of DUST go well on PS3, I could see CCP developing for XBox as well in the distant future. Having said that, if I look at their track record for developing new ideas for EVE Online and actually implementing them, I would expect to see DUST 514 on XBox as early as 2016.

Do I think DUST will be successful? Yes, I do. Do I think it work well with EVE Online? Yes, I do. Do I think it’s a brilliant idea? Yes, I do. Do I think I will be playing it? No, I definitely won’t be.

The only game on my PC is EVE Online. I only own a XBox 360. While I could afford it, I can’t justify spending that kind of money to play one game. No thanks.

Am I annoyed by this announcement? I would hope that’s obvious by now.

What is your opinion? Your thoughts? Please share them in the comments below, and if you come across any other good rants about this topic, please link them as well in your comment.

The Long Road Home – II

Posted by Roc Wieler on

PREVIOUSLY: THE LONG ROAD HOME – I

MISSION LOG 0400 HOURS

Still nothing but static, and not a single check-in from my team.

This is when being in command can be a strain. You need to make the tough decisions, the decisions nobody wants to make. I don’t think I can pull this off without my team. If it were a one man show I wouldn’t have hired the team to begin with. Still, I’ve never aborted before; tends not to go over well with my employers, my reputation, or my bank account. I’ve been doing this far too long to have to start over again. //pause// I guess the decision was already made before I even got involved. Well, time to … //static// … //commotion//

I spin quickly, my T3-4R Hand Flechette in my hand before my holster even realizes I’ve released it. There are more damaging guns than the 4R; it can’t impact armour, and has a limited range, but given the unforgiving nature of this jungle so far, I had chosen correctly. I squint through my polarized goggles, my brow creased with quick concentration. I can hear squawking and static on my radio, but it’ll wait. I can see a large mass coming through the bushes, and with speed.

I drop to one knee for better aim and stability, my finger squeezing ever so lightly against the hair trigger.

BETWEEN 0348 HOURS – 0400 HOURS

“Oh no you fuckin’ didn’t, you scant fuckin’ piece o’ shit!” I crush another one of those crunchy fucks with the reinforced back plate of my gloves. Legs or no, I ain’t dying to fucking bugs.

“Get yourself the fuck off my leg!” I scream at one of those millipede shits trying to dig into me like I’m some Sunday evening dark meat roast. I knock it off of me with the butt of my minigun. I will shoot my own legs if I have to if it keeps these fuckers away. “Jamyl fucking Sarum! They’re everywhere!” I yell, realizing that no matter how many I brush away, a dozen more crawl out from under the jungle canopy. I fucking hate this place. I don’t wanna die in this place. This is bullshit, man. Bullshit.

I pull out my radio, screaming for Sarge. We had managed to talk briefly when I reported Reco’s death, but I hadn’t been able to get shit since.

“Having fun?” a voice asks.

I turn my gun in that direction, both hands holding strong even through the shaking. I can feel the paralysis spreading up my body. Last thing I need right now is to deal with more bullshit.

Oh fuck yeah, it’s Flint!

“Don’t just stand there motherfucker! Fucking fricasse these buggers!”

Flint grins at me like I’m nothing more than a foul mouthed tribal throwback, but he takes the cigar from his mouth, throws it to the ground, puts it out with the heel of his boot, then non-chalantly reaches for his flame thrower. What a prick.

“You’re a fucking prick, you know that?” I say. Never have been good at holding back what I’m thinking.

“Oh, I’m sorry. If you want, I could not help at all. Would that be better?” Flint says, putting the thrower nozzle back onto his pack.

I look at my legs. I’m covered in bugs now, including three of those millipedes. I’m fucked.

“You think this is funny, Caldari fuck? Do your damn job. You know you need me for this mission. You want paid, fucker? Roast me.”

That makes him smile.

He sparks up the thrower and lays down a thick layer of cover fire around me before finally setting my legs on fire. Then the screaming starts, but it’s not mine; it’s the bugs. Let me tell you something. I have no memory more fucked up than the sound of thousands of bugs screaming. It’s a piercing, grating, get the fuck out of my skull, kinda sound. I will never forget it.

Have I mentioned how much I fucking hate this place? Fuck bugs. That’s some fucked up shit right there.

Flint pulls off his jacket and puts out the fire on my legs. I don’t feel a thing, but I smell like fucking barbeque. I know it’s gonna hurt like a vice on the balls later.

He puts his arms around me, lifting me into a fireman’s carry. I’m not a small man, so I’m impressed how easily he does it.

“Your fucking cigar smells like ass, you know.” I say, trying to be funny. He doesn’t laugh.

“You smell like dinner, you know.” he says without a smile, then we head off into the jungle.

—

There is death in darkness,
Warmth in night’s embrace.
The abominations of the night stalk,
Their prey unaware.
An insecure security is the light which shines.
Darkness devours both, as is deserved.
The sounds of the evening cover
My laugh.

Leaps and bounds and leaps. 22 meters that time; new record. Hmmm, was that a building? 21 meters; I’m not trying hard enough. Yes, it is a building, approximately 2.3 km SSW. 23 meters!

—

The drone’s camera pans back and forth across the night sky before returning its view to the ground below, looking at me. “You didn’t see it? I swear I saw a giant feline leaping through the air over there. It didn’t have wings. I don’t realize I’m standing there with my mouth hanging wide open, thinking on the possiblities of wingless flying carnivores until a small insect flies right into it, disrupting my fond memories of table top role playing sims.

“Oh gross!” I exclaim, spitting out bug bits. “Yuck! Yuck! Yuck! We are never going planetside again. Who does this rustic barbarism appeal to? Yuck. Holy mother of cyber-shit!!!” I scream, falling back on my ass as the giant, carnivourous feline I had seen only moments earlier comes crashing to the ground, landing no more than two meters in front of me. I’m so scared I don’t realize I’m pissing myself until the predator starts chuckling at me, then stands on its hind legs, shedding its skin! It takes my brain a moment to catch up to what my eyes are processing. When it does, I see Dervish standing in front of me, wrapped in the carcass of a feline predator, pointing at my soiled pants and laughing. I don’t even know where my trusty drone went; probably hiding in a bush nearby, recording the possibility of my death; for posterity of course.

“Greetings, Tech, or is it Phile? No, you’re definitely Cyber.”

“It’s Goggles on this mission, Dervish. What is wrong with you anyway? You’re acting crazier than usual.” I panic, quickly checking my scanner to see if the air here is thinner. The results come back fine, just as they have every time I’d run them since the moment we landed here (except poor Reco).

“We’re late for the rendezvous.” Dervish says, bending at the hip to bow over me. “You’ve soiled yourself. That will attract predators.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. We should … holy shit!” The feline behind Dervish up on its hind legs and roars. Dervish giggles as my drone sheds the carnivore’s skin to one side. Dervish has managed to terrify me again.

“Jerk. Do you have any idea how long its going to take to get guts and blood of his servos?”

He smiles, and we leave for the rendezvous.

0400 HOURS

One heat signature on infrared. I’m hoping its Sarge; these are the coordinates for the rendezvous, but if life has taught me anything it’s to be prepared. I touch my neck, activating my throat comm. “Sarge, is that you? It’s Maggie, over?” I slowly move forwards. No response on the radio. It could be a patrol from the facility we’re supposed to infiltrate, though our drop zone was easily 5 km away from the building. Of course, with that atmopheric interference, we could’ve landed right next door to it. Who’s to say?

I see the figure drop to one knee, and the posture is definitely one ready to fire. I freeze where I am, ready to try the radio once more.
A giant roar interrupts me, and I watch the figure roll to the side, firing quick bursts. The sounds is quiet. It’s a flechette pistol. It’s Sarge!
I run through the bush into the opening beyond and see a giant feline, but there’s something odd about it. It’s weaving to the side like a biped would. I can make out Dervish’s leggings under the skin.

“Stand down!” I yell. Sarge turns his gun to me, then back to the predator, which has been shed, revealing Dervish, smiling like an idiot.
A loud commotion to our right causes all three of us to react, drawing/aiming our weapons as one in the direction of the noise. Flint comes bursting through the bush, Bull draped over his shoulders. He grunts at the three of us, then unceremoniously drops Bull to the ground. “He’s peaceful when he’s unconscious. He needs a medic.” That’s all Flint says before turning his back to us and lighting up one of his cigars.
“I’ll take a look.” We turn to see Goggles with his drone walking towards Bull. I didn’t even see him a moment before.

“What the fuck is wrong with you people?” Sarge yells, pacing back and forth, barking orders. I tune him out. Seems we all made it to the rendezvous. Where’s Reco?

“Sarge.” I interrupt, knowing he hates that. “Where’s Reco?”

Sarge goes quiet, and we all already know the unspoken answer.

TO BE CONTINUED IN: THE LONG ROAD HOME – III

The Continuing Adventures of Captain Jack

Posted by Roc Wieler on

By: Jack Carrigan

///Begin Transmission///

The camera sat clearly in the midst of a twisted tree where a precariously perched Proteus-class strategic cruiser rested. The engines and thermal exhaust ports sat centered within the camera’s field of view. A man in dark attire was cutting a rope ladder which had been hodge-podged together presumably to reach the cargo bay of the stranded vessel. The tree itself had apparently suffered a cruel fate, as it was blackened and splintered, smoke still rising from where the twisted branches once constricted around the Proteus.

A communications cut-in could be heard overlaying into the recording, “Well Roc, I told you that this tree was going to get it. Nothing some low-grade explosives and some sharp implements won’t take care of. This ball has been my prison for far too long now, so I figured I’d leave the camera behind, and have it upstream until it ceases to function, which won’t be too long from now.” The cut-in also echoed the ship’s Aura system, “All systems showing 100% functionality. Engines priming.” Laughter was heard, “So this camera is about to meet a horrible fate as you can see, but I really could care less about it. See you in the spacelanes brother.”

A low whining sound began to pick up as the engines primed, and upon ignition, there was only blue fire, and then nothing.

///Transmission Interrupted – Uplink Not Detected///

21 day challenge

Posted by Roc Wieler on

Ok pilots, it’s that time of year again for many of us. You know what I mean, and I’m not talking about Pilot License extension. I’m talking about summer; that sweaty, sticky, sexy time of year where if you got it, you flaunt it, and if you don’t, well, some still do, but probably shouldn’t. It’s embarrassing.

Tired of being in that last group? Would you rather be in that first group that has great self-esteem, self-image, self-enjoyment on a regular basis?

Then you’re going to need to work for it. I dare you.

That’s right, it’s a personal challenge from me to you, 21 days of exercise in a row, to test the limits of your body, the discipline of your mind, and the dedication of your heart.

I guarantee that if you live through it, you’ll thank me.

Only one catch for this: you need a TRX Suspension Trainer (P2 model). Shop around online. They aren’t expensive. I’ve found them from $90 – $250, depending on your locale. Still, that’s only 2 – 3 months at your local gym, and you get to keep this equipment and can use it anywhere, but enough uncommissioned sell for TRX, let’s get our workout on!

MEN

#  Exercise  Reps  Rest  Sets
1A TRX Lunge (w/ Touch and Hop) 16 30 secs 3
1B TRX Inverted Row 16 30 secs 3
2A TRX Balance Lunge to TRX Single Leg Squat  16 30 secs 3
2B TRX Atomic Push-up  16 30 secs 3
3A TRX Y Deltoid Fly  8 30 secs 2
3B TRX Biceps Curl  8 30 secs 2
3C TRX Triceps Extension  8 30 secs 2
3D TRX Body Saw 8 30 secs 2

Do each number group as a circuit, so 1A, followed by 1B, then onto 2A, 2B, etc. It’s straightforward stuff. The only comment I’m going to make is that the guy doing the body saw in the video is lame. One of the core principles of TRX training is the pendulum. For that exercise, the further away you are from the anchor point, the more challenging the exercise. What he’s doing is adding zero difficulty to the exercise, but it’s the best example I could find quickly.

LADIES

#  Exercise  Reps  Rest  Sets
1A TRX Hip Extension  8 30 secs 3
1B TRX Single Arm Row  8 30 secs 3
2A TRX Single Leg Squat 8 30 secs 3
2B TRX Push-up  8 30 secs 3
3A TRX Lunge  8 30 secs 2
3B TRX Roll Out  8 30 secs 2
4A TRX Jump Squat  30 secs 30 secs 2
4B TRX Mountain Climber  30 secs 30 secs 2

Do each number group as a circuit, so 1A, followed by 1B, then onto 2A, 2B, etc. It’s straightforward stuff.

So that’s your challenge, and before you start whining about how difficult it is, this would be the beginner level for my TRX classes, so suck it up and get it done.

In the comments section, commit to it. Then each day, come back and reply to your own comment. I want to see how everyone does, and sadly can’t be there with you.

As always, ask me any questions you want about this. I’m happy to help.

Now go show summer who’s boss!

I’m sorry, forgive me

Posted by Roc Wieler on

We’ve all had moments in our lives we wish we could back and change. A simple word, a careless action; usually something much more complex and painful. Often there are entire segments of our lives we desire to simply erase, to hit the reset button, to undo something we did, whether purposefully or accidental.

But we cannot. Despite all our technologies, all our advancements, time will only move forward for us. Yet our memories can dwell infinitely in the past, reliving those moments of pain, embarrassment, humiliation, holding us eternally bound to that moment in time without hope of escape. We alone prevent ourselves from breaking free of these self-imposed prisons and learning from those moments, growing from those opportunities, with the hope to not make those same mistakes twice, to not allow history to repeat itself.

I’m haunted by such moments …

—
PATOR V (Vakir)
REPUBLIC FLEET LOGISTIC SUPPORT

I was crossing a few city blocks within the station as quickly as I could along the pedestrian walkway; I was going to miss the next (and last) express magtrain to the outer station ring if I didn’t hurry, and I had an appointment there I intended to keep; a very important meeting.

As I traversed a vehicle laneway on the appropriate signal, and had almost made it across to the next pedestrian walkway, a large vehicle diverted suddenly from its path, and would’ve hit me had I not reactively jumped out of the way. I landed on the ferrocrete, hard on one knee, my hands scraped, but otherwise intact. I heard the vehicle come to a quick halt several meters behind me, and wondered if an accident had occurred; if the driver and other motorists were injured. My mind always tried to rationalize answers of irrational situations.

I rose slowly, doing an internal body check to make sure I was intact. As I turned I could hear shouting, someone yelling my name, which I found odd. When I had fully turned to analyze the situation, a large Caldari grabbed my jacket lapel with his left hand, clenching his right hand into a balled fist cocked high above and behind him.

“I always hoped I’d run into you again.” he barked. “You ruined her. You completely destroyed her life.”

I had no idea who he was, only that he was a potential threat. I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking Roc, this guy has you by the coat and is about to punch you a good one, and you’re saying he’s just a potential threat? Are you kidding me? Stop pretending you’re such a badass. I’m not pretending. Most males are all about posturing. They want to feel big, look important, sound tough; they rarely know how to follow through. It’s our alpha instincts.

“Who?” I asked calmly.

“You don’t even know?!” he screamed incredulously. “You don’t even recognize me? I was the guy who tried to clean up Daena’s life after you were done with her; tried to put the pieces of her heart back together, to mend her soul. You completely emptied her, left her a shell of the woman she was! I’m going to mop the street with you!”

In the twinkling of an eye, it all came back to me. Daena.

—

“Here you go, darlin.” I said, handing the contraceptive device to the young, hot brunette standing in front of me. “We’re trying to promote sexual awareness in your university. You’re a looker, so you might need a few extras.” I winked and handed her some more. She didn’t blush. She didn’t look away. She held my gaze with those smoldering brown eyes, and I knew this was a woman I could see myself spending many years with.

A few hours later, we engaged in some oral foreplay in a nearby university washroom. She was incredible. Even looking down on her from this angle as she knelt, gently moving her long flowing brown hair out of the way, she was beautiful, energetic, exhilarating and eager.

—

I couldn’t believe I had been involved with the same woman exclusively for five months. It’s not that I didn’t enjoy her, I did; perhaps too much. I could feel my heart starting to slip away. After Mihan’s death, I had promised to never genuinely love again. I owed Mihan that much. So instead of letting our relationship flourish, Daena and I fought almost constantly, over the stupidest things, and almost always it was my stubbornness, my ego that started the arguments, and ended them. In retrospect I came to understand that it was less about honouring Mihan, and more about not allowing my heart to be vulnerable.

—

Five years we’d been at this: Caring for each other, being with each other, fighting with each other, hating each other, making up with each other, multiple times. There was some unexplainable chemistry between us, some insatiable lust that kept us coming back for more. Or was it something else? Was it co-dependency? Did broken attract broken? Or did we break each other along the way? Or was that just me rationalizing the way I treated her? I certainly didn’t feel broken, just miserable.

—

“I don’t really care. It’s over.” I said without a single hint of emotion in my voice.

She stood before me, crying, but I had grown cold to her tears long ago. “But I only told you so you would forgive me, so we could have a clean start!” she sobbed.

She had just told me that she had been cheating on me for the last year with several partners, her way of retaliating for all the horrible and malicious things I had done to her, of which there were many. But she had seen me not stay stuck in my ways. She had witnessed first hand as I had learned from my mistakes and grown into a better man. She wanted to be a better woman. She wanted to give us a better relationship.

—

We had broken up. We had gotten back together. We did that for another year until she ended it. She held the power then. She was the alpha. I furnished a small apartment for her, helped her financially where it was needed, and was always there for her when she needed to talk. She had started dating someone from school she had known before that day she met me, and I looked her up once out of curiousity, only to discover they had married. Well, good for her. At least she had stopped calling me, torturing me in retaliation for the years of her life I had wasted.

A few years later, while serving in the Tribal Liberation Force, I looked her up again. Maybe I still held unresolved emotions? Perhaps I needed closure? She had divorced, moved on, and had become pregnant with someone else’s child.

That was the last time I looked her up. Apparently closure was only something needed in romantic comedy holoreels.

—

“Daena.” I said quietly, though he failed to hear the sadness and regret in my voice.

“Yes!” he screamed, and I knew he was going to punch me then.

A part of me deep inside believed I deserved it, believed I deserved whatever punishment came my way for the mistakes I made with Daena. Another part of me cried out in protest, reminding me of the man I had grown into, of all the good I had achieved in this universe, of all the lives I had made better through my words and actions. A third part of me merely shot adrenaline through my body, and urged me to survive.

An unskilled opponent reveals themselves in many ways: the way they pull back, winding up for the punch, incorrect stance and feet positioning, leaving them off balance. Still, anyone can get lucky, so best not to give your opponent the chance.

I stepped forward into him, driving my knee into his groin. My momentum, combined with him pulling back his fist, carried him to the ferrocrete, where he landed hard on his ass, clutching himself and wincing.

I leaned over him, but not close enough for him to lash out at me.

“I’m honestly sorry. More than you’ll ever know, friend.”

With that, I stood up and walked away, checking my chrono.

I still had time to catch my train.

The Long Road Home – I

Posted by Roc Wieler on

PROLOGUE

MISSION LOG 0340 HOURS

We’d lost Reco during our orbital insertion. Bull reported in from the crash site citing technical malfunctions due to adverse atmospheric conditions. Everything about this hell hole had been adverse so far. I contacted each remaining member of the team to meet at emergency checkpoint alpha one: Dervish, Goggles, Flint, and Maggie, who hated call signs so just used her own name, all had acknowledged the command. That was fifty minutes ago. When we signed on for Operation Frisbee, we were told it was going to be another walk in the park; grab the object, run back with the object. Of course, a park is typically envisioned as a lush field with clear skies, not a hot, humid, alien jungle with an atmosphere that wreaks havoc with all your electrical systems. I could barely maintain a signal planetside; contacting HQ offworld? Not a chance.

We’re on our own. It makes me glad I had demanded fifty percent payment up front for my people, especially given we’re working for a nameless employer with impressive, if not alarming, military contacts, but had I known then what I know now, I would’ve asked for triple to do this one. Of course, they always say hindsight is 20/20.

PERSONAL LOG 0341 HOURS

I fucking hate bugs. They ain’t natural with their creepin’n’crawlin’n’shit. What kinda fucked up God would make such little shits, with their fangs’n’venoms’n’bullshit. Fuck that Amarr shit right in their candy asses.

My name’s Amos Floyd, shit, I mean, Bull. Use your callsign, goddammed idiot. No wonder they’re always picking on your dumb Brutor ass. I’m all feverish’n’fucked up right now; can’t move my legs. Some goddamned motherfuckin’ centifucking thing crawled right up my boot when I wasn’t paying no mind. I felt it’s prickly legs up my pant, but by the time I looked down and said ‘What the fuck?’ the motherfucker had dug himself in for a snack. I unloaded a full mag into the motherfucking bitch whore. Between waking up every sneaky fuck predator in this jungle and announcing where I was, I nearly shot my own leg off. I hate this place. It’s fucking stank. Is making me sweat my balls off, which makes me smell like stank. Fuck the jungle, man. Seriously.

I got about five feet before my legs gave out, and down I went, cursing and screaming like an Amarr choir boy getting priestly mentoring. My comm ain’t picking up shit for static, and I would say it looks like I’m on my own except for the fact that about two dozen of those multi-legged fuckers have been crawling out from under every fucking thing and moving towards me. A few flares have kept them at bay for now, but I’ll be out of that shit soon, then I know I’m bug food. Fuck. What a way to go.

PERSONAL LOG 0342 HOURS

No visible moons beneath the dark electric storms, yet the predators don’t seem to mind the thunder and lightning. Interesting; must be a constant here to which they have adapted. Gravity feels lighter than 1g; should let me make use of some advanced acrobatics training I learned a few years back from an operative I hooked up with for a few months. She was good, and young. Young and good. Sounds like the lyrics to a good song. Comms are down and useless at this range. Will check again when 100m closer to the rendezvous point. Very hot and humid; my envirosuit says it has another 2 hours of charge left. I adjust it to the minimum setting to maximize its longevity, and my comfort.

Longevity, our vain pursuit;
To live immortal amongst the gods of man.
What wonders dost (doth, doest?) hath our eyes done seen,
Eer life to life, death to death?
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust?
I’ve lost where this was going. Ironic.

I hear the faint footsteps on the padded soil 15m to my left. I do not move. It’s big, feline. I can sense it settling into a crouch, digging the pads of its paws deeper into the ground for an optimal attack launch. I breathe in deeply, sharing in this moment of exhiliration; man vs beast vs man. To be alive, to be … alive. A live. Olive.

We both leap. The carnivourous cat tries to adjust its flight midair unsuccessfully. I land 6m above, on a firm, yet soft tree branch. The cat turns to pursue, not realizing I’ve already shot it between the eyes and that it is dead. Ah, now it understands.

I drop to the ground, and hold the mighty beast in my arms as a mother shushing its babe to sleep. Rest now, dear child. Carnivourous cat; that was some pretty good aliteration.

Hush little baby, don’t say a word,
Mama’s gonna buy you a mockingbird.
If that mockingbird don’t sing,

I look at my chrono and realize I’m late for the rendezvous.

PERSONAL LOG 0343 HOURS

You have to wonder why we bother making personal logs; I mean who is going to find them if we die? We’re mercs for crying out loud; who would send a rescue team? Alive, I’m credits on a job. Dead, I’m someone else’s cut. Besides, the governments keep track of us anyway. You know what I’m talking about; the chips they put in our brains when we’re born. You know, the ones that let the powers that be know who to keep in the slums, who to manipulate for gain, and who to quietly dispose of?

Not me, man; I carved that tech outta my head the first chance I got. Well, sure I didn’t actually find anything, but that’s because they’re hard wired to self destruct, disintegrate if exposed to air. They don’t want to leave a trace so you can prove they’re doing, right? Smart ones, but not as smart as me.

What is that smell? Oh man! I stepped in it. That’s disgusting. How am I going to get that off my boot? Sigh. I hate planet missions. Plug me in, upload me, let me get my cyber self on, that’s where I’m happiest, but money is money, you know what I’m saying?

Alright drone, let’s head to the rendezvous. Stop recording.

PERSONAL LOG 0344 HOURS

Maybe lighting my cigar with a flamer wasn’t my best idea. Sure, it worked, but the foliage surrounding me lit up dry in a flash. I’m kinda impressed how fast it spread; gives a new meaning to the term ‘wildfire’. Course, I’m trapped in my own oven, but what the hell, it’s a good cigar. Might be late for the rendezvous.

PERSONAL LOG 0348 HOURS

This team has been my life for the last eight months, since my husband was killed. He was a good man, in the sense that he knew who to fight for, but a bad man in the sense that he did terrible things to those whom were his enemies. It still amazes me to this day that he kept it all secret from me. Who am I kidding? I suspected something was up years ago, but didnt’ want to pry, didn’t want to ask, didn’t want to see the money disappear. The early years of our marriage had been hard financially, but when he started his new ‘job’, things started looking up. We had the sweet life. That we did. Then he was killed by a damned capsuleer who thought she would grace us with her ‘vision’ of what a better planet could be; essentially us working her factories for cheap, and we couldn’t exactly say no.

My husband led a group of rebels, and did quite a bit of damage both financially and to the morale of the capsuleer’s ground team, but it wasn’t enough. It never would’ve been enough. For a few ISK, nothing to an immortal god, one of my husband’s most trusted lieutenants sold him out. They were both hanged publically, to set an example.

I wipe a tear away from my eye.

The only example ever set was that the strong impose their will on the weak, and I had grown tired of being weak. I trained my mind and body hard, pushing myself further than even I knew was possible doing this job, and I was damned proud of the woman I had grown into. I hoped Jacob would be too.

Of course, given the nature of this work, I might get to ask him in person just soon enough. And maybe, just maybe, that’s why I do it. I miss you, honey.

TO BE CONTINUED IN: THE LONG ROAD HOME – II