Had the opportunity to do a tremendously challenging workout today. No pre-amble. Let’s get right to it. (for those that do not enjoy my fitness related posts, please do not unsubscribe, I am working on a new blog specifically for fitness related material).

20 Minute Firefighter

DUMBBELL PUSH/PULL

• Begin in a push up position (feet spread), dumbbells in hand
• Lower chest to floor (keeping body straight)
• Press back to starting position
• Row left dumbbell to chest
• Return to starting position
• Repeat for right right dumbbell row

That is one rep. I did 6 reps with 20 lbs.

INCHWORM PUSH UP

• Bend over and reach both hands to floor
• Walk on hands out to push up position
• Perform a push up
• Walk on hands back to starting position

TIP: Keep a tight mid-section during exercise. I did 8 reps.

LEG CURL & ARM PULLOVER

• Begin on back with arms and legs fully extended
• Curl legs up toward chest, then back to starting position
• Curl upper body up and reach dumbbell toward feet
• Slowly lower upper body back to starting position
• Each curl/pullover equals one repetition

I did 8 reps with 20 lbs.

MULE KICK

• Begin on hands and balls of feet
• Kick both feet up over head
• Focus on pulling with abs on the way back down

TIP: Feet should be higher than head at top or arc

I did 10 reps.

Ok, that’s the four exercises. Not too hard, right? Yeah.

Now, set your timer for 20 minutes. Your objective is to perform as many rounds as possible within that 20 minutes. No rest. One set of all 4 exercises constitutes a round.

I did 4.75 rounds, but aim to do better next time.

Good luck!

I’m a simple man. I shoot things. I get shot at. I like women. Women like me. It’s a good existence.

Something I’ve never fully grasped, nor particularly excelled at, is finances. When it comes to my ships, I fly whatever I can fit, from Rifters to T2/Faction fit Lokis. If I have ISK in my pocket while in the company of a fine female(s), I’ll spend what I have.

I need to get better at managing my money, or finding better ways to profit.

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What’s this? Oh sweet mother of chicken, it’s ISK Guide 3.0!!! And it’s FREE!!!

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ISK THE GUIDE 3.0

Thanks to the good folks at EON Magazine, as well as the author(s) of the guide for all their hard work. Hopefully they’ll release a hard copy of this book for me to buy.

///OPEN COMMUNICATIONS///
///CONNECTING///
///START OF TRANSMISSION///

RECIPIENTS: ALL OPEN COMM CHANNELS, ORDER OF THE SHADOW SECURE COMMS, SHADOW NAVY SECURE COMMS

“This is Commander Jack Carrigan of the Shadow Navy. I have been engaged against the Sansha Incursion in the Kakol Constellation, and despite best efforts, have been able to push them back only so far. I am piloting a Drake-class Battlecruiser registered 0-157, named Embla. My navigation systems have failed, and I fear that I am far off course. I heard of the Incursion while checking local channels in the Metropolis Region of the Minmatar Republic.

My fleet took substantial losses, but we managed to destroy a Vanguard-class Sansha Mining Colony before everything went wrong. If anyone receives this, I am making my best attempts to return to Eram to keep things in line. My Aura unit is unresponsive and I fear for the integrity of my cloning process. I have a request if I cannot return. Do not let Sansha Kuvekei establish a foothold in Eram, or Algogille, as both of those places are like home to me. Keep fighting until your very last breath, and make those bastards suffer as those who have fallen victim have.

Should this be my last transmission, do not shed a tear for me, as I have learned what immortality is. It is flying at full throttle into the gaping maw of the abyss, and living to tell about it. It is feeling your blood run hot as you approach a Revenent, and cut loose a salvo of Heavy Assault Missiles while enemy fire rocks your ship. It is feeling the searing pain as your hull rips apart, only to watch from your capsule as the enemy is torn apart by the final volley from your guns before they fell forever silent. It is launching into a battle you know you can’t win with your closest friends on your wings, and smiling as you see the sun through your viewport. It is doing whatever is necessary to ensure that those you love never suffer at the hands of a tyrant.

I am an immortal, as even long after my demise, I shall live on, in the thoughts of my dearest loved ones, and in the nightmares of my most hated enemies. I am Commander Jack Carrigan of the Shadow Navy, and I am a Capsuleer.”

///END OF TRANSMISSION///

It was two days later that I had received his transmission. By the time my team was able to track down the originating point of this transmission, I knew what we would find.

The battlefield was a junkyard of littered ship debris, stripped by scavengers for reselling; nothing of value was left. I slowed my Rifter, and the SNR shuttle flying with me did the same. It would be my responsibility to scan for any incoming and potentially hostile ships for the next few hours as the search and rescue teams deploying from the shuttle meticulously searched for any signs of life.

Hopefully, it would just be some peace and quiet while we did what I required for my friend, though I honestly didn’t expect to find him alive. My NeoCom beeped.

From: Mizara Del’thul
Re: Call to Action

Ah right, yes. The ‘noble’ Gallente who attempted to enslave our entire people through cultural obliteration and assimilation into their collective which is nothing more than corruption, tyranny and annihilation of any heritage that’s not directly Gallentean. Let’s go sucking their body-modified fifth extremity again, right.

The Gallente Federation can burn for all I care after their insiduous attacks on our very spirits and ways. They’re as bad as the Empire, only better at hiding it under a veneer of ‘democracy and justice’. At least the Empire and State are honest creatures.

I will have nothing to do with this. You’re suggesting taking away the resources and effort needed to deal with the Empire and freeing our people in order to defend other nations and races? We have our own troubles to deal with. Leave them to their fate because we have one of our own to concern ourselves with.

But then, why should I be surprised by this? You’re the one who’s aimed for the annihilation of our ways and identity through breaking down the principles which make us Minmatar.

Go ahead… I will remain Matari, not some simpering Gallente whore.

Breaking down the principles? What booster was this pilot on? Even though it was frustrating sometimes to deal with people who were as thick-skulled and opinionated as me, I wouldn’t trade the straightforward, speak your mind approach we all shared for duplicitous double speak that never helped quicken a solution. I tempered my reply, knowing that our corporate directors monitored these correspondences.

Two things, if you please:

1. I am not suggesting in any way that K’S be pulled from the front lines of the war against the Amarr; just as I would not suggest we ask U’K proper to come out of nullsec and assist us. What I am suggesting is that since we’ve been loosely allied with the Federation against the Caldari and Amarr, that perhaps we take advantage of this common enemy to build a little bit of good will with the Gallente we can use later.
2. I have never comprised the principles of my Brutor heritage, nor the ways of our people. I am proud in all I do, knowing that I walk the walk without blemish. I can only assume you have me confused with someone else.

Again, it’s just an invitation, with no judgements on my end if you want to play the racism card to hide your cowardice.

Always your brother,
Roc

That ought to get a rise.

The hours passed by without event, the teams keeping in touch with me, and with one another. There were no signs of life, no signs of survival. It was complete annihilation.

My NeoCom beeped. My guess was Mizara had replied.

Cowardice, is it? Call it what you wish. I have more important matters to attend to, like the third of our people still kept chained in the Amarr Empire.

My reply was straightforward this time.

I don’t disagree with your decision there. The freedom of our people is always our priority. I look forward to flying with you against the Amarr every opportunity we get.

The search teams wrapped up shortly thereafter, and after a brief report, I headed back to Rens. If you’re still alive, Jack, I hope you let me know.

I hated saying goodbye to friends.

Brothers and Sisters,

When our forebearers were called upon to fight, they rose to the occasion. They fought for our very freedom as a civilzation. And they won.

When the accursed Amarr declared war on us anew only three years ago, once again we rose to fight, and still fight to this day. Kinda’Shujaa takes the battle to them daily.

Now we face a grave threat; a danger unlike anything we’ve seen before. I’m talking, of course, about Sansha Kuvakei.

My family, I urge us to do what is right. I know that currently our systems aren’t threatened by the Nation, but they soon will be. And when that day comes, I’ll take all the help I can get. I was in Yulai. I saw the destruction the Nation can unleash.

Let us aid our Gallente allies, those noble souls that banded together with us to stand against the Amarr/Caldari Coalition. Let us fly their wing, and lend our might as their systems are laid seige to even as I write this communique.

I will fight. There is no choice for me.

Roc

I hit send, and hoped that my corporation mates would respond soon.

RENS VI – MOON 8
BRUTOR TRIBE TREASURY

It seemed they had finally managed to get the temperature regulation systems under control in the station. I had found people’s moods tended towards the lighter side of things when they were physically comfortable, myself included.

I took the station’s transit system, as I often did, to ground and humble myself, to remind myself that my gift of immortality came with an inherent responsibility; that I was no better than any other citizen of the Republic, and it was my role to etch out a better life for my people, any way I could. I held loosely onto an overhead handrail, my body swaying in unison with the commuting crowd as the mag train continued it’s uneven journey. Some slept, while others read, or listened to music, or enjoyed some video entertainment. Those that stood read the daily news, or chatted up their acquaintances, or stared off into the distance, lost in their own thoughts. I enjoyed analyzing people as a whole; the behaviours of a group often dictated the acceptable social behaviours of individuals. It had proven useful to me many times in the past when I found myself in foreign cultures.

I had a lot on my mind that morning as well; primarily Kuvakei. There was still no explanation as to why CONCORD didn’t defend their home sovereignty of Yulai, no formal statements from any government as to their positions regarding the Sansha Nation. Despite the efforts of all capsuleers, Sansha had managed to establish a persistent portal to his troops, and heavily defended Nation outposts were being reported across all regions, from high sec to null sec. Sansha had established quick sovereignty in each of these constellations.

It was going to be all out war.

I was the first to notice when it happened. There was no outward indication. He didn’t clutch his chest in that dramatic fashion we see on the holovids; he didn’t gasp for breath, eyes open wide. He simply began to collapse. Every pilot of the Tribal Liberation Force was trained in more than just the basics of flight combat; we were also trained in basic first aid and planetary survival skills, including resuscitation. I tried to reach out for the man before he hit the ground, but my reflexes weren’t fast enough.

Immediately, I hit the emergency stop on the train, landing several of the standing patrons on their neighbours. Many of those sleeping awoke with a start, wondering what was going on, and I could only empathize with them as there had been far too many public suicide attacks during the war with the Amarr this last year. I was down on one knee before the masses could fully digest this occurrence, checking for the man’s breath. There was none. I quickly checked for a pulse. Nothing.

“The Emergency Stop has been pressed in car 2538. We are sending Interbus crew members immediately, and apologize for any inconvenience this may cause. Thank you for choosing Interbus.” The conductor spoke in a monotone.

Damn your “inconvenience” to these people; a man is dying!

I immediately began emergency first aid, compressing the man’s chest cavity rhythmically, positioning myself high on my knees, using my body weight on straightened arms so as not to exhaust myself. I needed to stay with this man until more qualified medical personnel arrived. The passengers surrounding me backed away, afraid and ignorant, not sure what was going on nor what they should be doing. They looked to each other with blank stares.

“Call for emergency services!” I bellowed. Not a soul reacted.

I looked directly at one pudgy, middle aged woman. “You! Call emergency services NOW!” I yelled in my most commanding voice. I watched as she trembled, but pulled our her comm and made the call.

I would not let this man die.

It took nearly four minutes for the train’s response crew to arrive. They weren’t even a medical team, merely a day job conducting crew. They informed me I was legally bound to continue administering life saving techniques, and that if I were not qualified there could be legal consequences. They asked the passengers nearby if anyone had called emergency services. The pudgy lady showed them her comm unit, too afraid to speak.

They simply stood there, apologizing to the passengers on the car for the delay, and for any inconvenience it would have on their day.

Are you kidding me? I thought to myself. There’s a man dying on the floor here, who’s day may be permanently delayed, and you’re worried about covering your corporate ass because of a time delay? Give me a break.

My body was getting sore. I was tiring. It had only been six minutes. There was already a chance of brain damage.

At nine minutes, emergency services arrived and took over from me. They attached oxygen equipment and slid the man onto a stretcher. Statements were taken. “You’re a capsuleer?” one of the attendants asked me out loud as he looked at my identification card. I thought several heads would turn at the mention of me being a capsuleer. Nobody did. As I looked out over the collection of passengers, all I could see and hear was disgruntled conversations about how they were going to be late for their various obligations; work, school, etc.

It disgusted me.

I nodded to the attendant, taking back my ID, and turned my thoughts inward.

Sansha’s Nation was perhaps one of the biggest threats our galaxy had seen, and he had timed his campaign perfectly, while the empires were engaged in war with one another. Poverty levels had hit an all time high. Unemployment numbers had skyrocketed. Governments were financially drained from military initiatives and found themselves impotent to tend to their poor.

The entire galaxy was uncertain and even with a man potentially dead in front of them to remind them of how truly frail life was, these people were still wrapped up in their own self-absorbed blankets of mediocrity.

A part of me mentally volunteered this group to the Nation. They’d be happier there. A bigger part of me wondered why I bothered to fight for the people at all when time after time they demonstrated this type of societal behaviour.

The biggest part of me remembered what it was like growing up as a slave, not having any choices in life, and regardless of my judgments and opinions, I fought, risking my life and the lives of my pilots, so that others would have the ability to choose their own paths, even if they chose poorly.

The train resumed with a start, and there were cheers all around. People went back to sleep, to listening to music, to watching video, to discussions with acquaintances, to reading the news.

I reached for the overhead handrail.

Sansha was wrong. We were a hive mind already, just not the good kind. I felt sick to my stomach. Looking around, you wouldn’t have even known the events of only minutes before had occurred.

How had we survived this long as a species?

RECEIVED AFTER THE EVENTS OF 113.1.23
Colonel Wieler: For Your Eyes Only

The Promised Land encounter was essentially a brief massacre of Syne/FCORD forces by Nation supporters (Including Kuvakei and Astur) and pirates (Rote Kapelle and HORN).

Kuvakei and Astur sat on top of a wormhole in their Revenants, accompanied by the Sansha loyalist Ghost Hunter in a Chimera.

[ 113.01.23 23:02:20 ] Master Kuvakei: As long as we have this ship, we can strike anywhere, anytime we please.
[ 113.01.23 23:05:05 ] Master Kuvakei: Activating stargate interference subroutine.
[ 113.01.23 23:07:19 ] Master Kuvakei: Maintaining order is only difficult for authorities lording over individuals.
[ 113.01.23 23:07:24 ] Master Kuvakei: That is not how Nation operates.
[ 113.01.23 23:15:09 ] Master Kuvakei: Launching fighters. Capsuleer force approaching. ((Said as Syne fleet was about to enter))
[ 113.01.23 23:22:42 ] Master Kuvakei: Pathetic.
[ 113.01.23 23:26:26 ] Master Kuvakei: I will free you from your individuality.
[ 113.01.23 23:28:11 ] Master Kuvakei: Do you see now? Without your king, you are just a pack of wild animals, clawing at one another.
[ 113.01.23 23:28:25 ] Master Kuvakei: If you would but accept my offer, I would show you unity, civility beyond anything you could possibly imagine.
[ 113.01.23 23:36:17 ] Master Kuvakei: Testing conduit…
[ 113.01.23 23:38:43 ] Citizen Astur: Nation forces active. All units on standby.
[ 113.01.23 23:38:50 ] Master Kuvakei: Conduit complete.
[ 113.01.23 23:44:23 ] Master Kuvakei: Thirty minutes until signal harmonics are stabilized and portal alpha is rendered permanent.
[ 113.01.23 23:47:02 ] Citizen Astur: Securing portal generator. 28:00 until redeployment.
[ 113.01.23 23:50:46 ] Master Kuvakei: Do you see now? I wasn’t bringing you to the Promised Land, I was bringing the Promised Land to you.
[ 113.01.23 23:51:12 ] Master Kuvakei: Portal Alpha will remain as a direct conduit to me and the rest of Nation.
[ 113.01.23 23:51:21 ] Master Kuvakei: But this isn’t where it ends; this is where it begins.
[ 113.01.23 23:57:23 ] Master Kuvakei: When you tire of crawling through the darkness, know that there is always a Promised Land awaiting you. Here, you will be able to connect with my Nation and bask in the glory of its radiance.
[ 113.01.24 00:01:18 ] Citizen Astur: Securing portal generator. 15:00 until redeployment.
[ 113.01.24 00:07:47 ] Citizen Astur: Securing portal generator. 8:00 until redeployment.
[ 113.01.24 00:15:48 ] Citizen Astur: Conduit established. Portal generator secured.
[ 113.01.24 00:16:07 ] Master Kuvakei: My children, the conduit remains. We are victorious.
[ 113.01.24 00:19:17 ] Master Kuvakei: For you, my chosen ones, there is light on the horizon. For all those who oppose us, there are dark days ahead… ((Kuvakei, accompanied by Astur, disappear through the wormhole at this point))

Both the Obray and Algintal constellations within Gallente space are under attack, reports are filtering through about other attacks spread across the galaxy… I’m sure your primary focus will be on protecting the Minmatar Republic and I wish you luck.

Fly Safe.

Your loyal friend,
G-104

I believe in leadership. From personal experience I know that you’re only as good as your wingmate. Any fleet commander worth their salt should be able to tell you personal details about every pilot flying under their command. Without those personal relationships, how can we trust one another? The foundations of our universe are sown in mistrust, the harsh realities of survival in New Eden enveloping us on a daily basis.

But why must it be so?

In my NeoCom:

Roc,

With the impending threat of Sansha incursions looming, I am writing to offer my services.

Since entering the ranks of the capsuleer in YC111, I have been training tirelessly for combat. Of Caldari birth, I have utilized the resources provided by the State to gain expert proficiency in all of the core competencies, missile launcher operations and other key combat related skills. I’ve complemented this training with “hands-on” experience flying for the Caldari militia.

That said, I realize that there is still much for me to learn. Unlike my pre-capsuleer life, I’ve found few pilots that I consider “friends”.

Some of this is likely self-inflicted. I do spend a good deal of time out of my pod, offline and planet side. My employment has been with more industry focused corporations. Caldari culture, with it’s focus on competition and commerce, seems to engender a culture of acquaintances.

Most important is the fact that the Caldari State’s indifference to the despicable Amarrian practice of slavery has made me question where I should be placing my loyalties. I am no ally to the Amarr, this much I know to be true.

And that is my dilemma – I have spent several years training to fight, but now that I am ready, I realize that I don’t know what I should be fighting for.

Then I realized that, perhaps, I should not be asking “what” I am fighting for, but for whom?

So I send you this message. I am familiar with your exploits, as is every pilot of the State Protectorate, and I seek the opportunity to fly for you.

Regards,

Roniin Ashe

Roniin, I am flattered by your undeserving praise. I can empathize with your plight; you seem to be of noble heart and righteous spirit. It doesn’t surprise me in the least that the alliance between the State and the Empire troubles you so. No good can come from that union. To me, it is a short sighted convenience, a preemptive defense on Tibus Heth’s part to divert the attention of the Empress away from your people.

You cannot fly for me.

The Masuat’aa Matari are a close knit group of kin. We are Matari, in body, soul and mind. We are compelled to our task, unable to turn from the injustices in this galaxy. My corporation directors wouldn’t stand for me having an ex-Protectorate pilot under my command.

Of course, that is the interesting thing about leadership. If I truly believe that paths can be chosen, that we are not born into our fate, and can create our own destinies, then I also must lead by example, I must chisel out my own path.

I would be honoured if you would fly with me.

If these recent incursions by the Sansha Nation have taught me anything it is that all of us share one common belief: the citizens of this galaxy deserve better. While our views on what that actually entails may differ, our intentions are pure. This doesn’t apply to everyone of course. There are those in our universe that seek nothing but the enforcement of their own will on others, regardless of the wants and needs of those they choose to subjugate. History has shown us repeatedly that populations will never rest under this type of tyranny. This is why Kuvakei will fail. This is why I must not.

Let us fly as equals, as pod pilots, as immortals seeking to make a difference in this galaxy.

I await your reply, friend.

Fly safe.

YULAI SYSTEM
SECURITY STATUS 1.0
GENESIS REGION
CONCORD ASSEMBLY

We had all heard the rumour; Kuvakei had declared his intention to eliminate CONCORD. Yulai was one of the few bastions of peace in the galaxy; it didn’t get safer than living in a CONCORD system. As my Rifter cleared entry customs, I felt a strong and surreal sensation looking across the solar system. Despite Aura’s confirmation from my personal tracking logs stating I had never been to the Yulai system, it felt strangely familiar to me. I experienced an inexplicable nostalgia, a homesickness I could not explain.

It was a difficult emotion to rid myself of, even as the tow ships of the Yulai IX – CONCORD Bureau station maneuvered my vessel into a docking berth inside. Traffic within the station was severely congested, as pod pilots from all over New Eden arrived for the impending battle.

I switched on the local comm channel, being immediately flooded with spam, propaganda, speculation, news reports, gossip mongers, rumour mills, and more. I recognized a few names, both friends and enemies alike, and knew without a doubt that this day promised uncertainty for all.

20:57 HOURS

If the intelligence reports were to be believed, the Sansha Nation would strike on the hour. As my Aura unit performed a final cycle of system checks on the Ripsack, I could see the traffic lanes becoming congested towards the station undocking tubes. There was a CONCORD communique across the public channels, encouraging all citizens to remain planet bound, or to exit the system for their own safety; that CONCORD would protect them against any tangible threat today, as they had for decades past. There was no need for alarm or concern. A quick scanner probe to the surrounding system jump gates spoke volumes to the contrary. The gate rings were so flooded with ships eager to escape that there was no movement whatsoever, nor would their be, I wagered.

As I exited the station, I felt a great trepidation overwhelm me. I was nestled within the center of a circle of six Imperial Abaddons, all aligning slowly to one of the in system planets. Inconspicuously, I maneuvered my agile Rifter in a different direction, and headed for planet five of the system.

It was during warp that Kuvakei hacked the comms network of Yulai, greeting every inhabitant of the system. He promised a better future for all that would embrace his vision, a vow of peace and prosperity in the Promised Land, where none would fall ill or perish; where all would live forever. To my surprise, hundreds of capsuleers responded to his message, hailing their Master, welcoming him to Yulai, pledging themselves to the demise of his enemies. Kuvakei continued, scorning the assembled pod pilots, citing us as arrogant hoarders of old technology, denying all the opportunity to experience eternal life. He blamed us for sustaining the impossible divisions between working classes, holding onto power through tyranny.

He was the saviour of mankind. He would usher in the future.

As I dropped out of warp, I commed my small squad to warp to my location: Niko, Rhade, Nathan, all of us in small and nimble ships, all of us here due to our alliance standing with CONCORD. “Remember”, Niko had said during our briefing, “We’re not here to fight. We’re here to observe; to study the Nation and report back with any weakness we find.” I grumbled then, and as I listened to Kuvakei’s monologue, I grumbled again.

I broadcasted across all channels. “To what end is a future without freedom? You set yourself up as the saviour of mankind, and yet you bring nothing but death and destruction to all you touch. You are not majestic, Sansha; you are malevolent and mad. Look around you. There are over fifteen hundred of us willing to show you how much we value our freedoms, our civilizations, our lives. We will not bow to you. We will not be broken. The best you can hope for today is a quick death, which is more than a monster like you deserves!”

I usually felt better after a good rant, but I will admit that I was truly nervous. I had heard reports of the devastation the Nation had wrought across other systems in New Eden; the Revenant supercarrier was a force never seen before these incursions, and it was definitely a force to be reckoned with.

The chatter continued in local comms, some cheering us on, others jeering. I was surprised Kuvakei even acknowledged me, let alone responded. “Ah yes, the disgraced Colonel who dreams of playing hero. You are but one, Wieler; an insignificant speck in the stars. Your actions are independent of those surrounding you; you are all a disorganized nest of hornets that could never understand the intricacies of mounting a united defense. Your individual minds are no match for the Sansha Nation, so please, dear Colonel, do what you will. I’ve had enough. Begin plasma extraction now!”

Plasma extraction? What?

I closed off local comms, only keeping alive fleet and military channels I had access to. Ships were scrambling, responding to sightings all across the system.

“Supercarrier on P2!”
“Anyone got visual confirmation?”
“Roger that”
“Wormhole at P5. We’ve got inbound!”
“Negative on that. I’ve got no visual!” I replied. It was then I noticed that Aura was performing sluggishly, though whether it was due to the sheer volume of telemetry data in system, or some jamming technology Sansha was employing I couldn’t be sure.
“I’ve got visual on P5 wormhole. It is confirmed.” another pilot stated.

I felt like I was flying blind. I could see no enemy ships on my HUD. In fact, I couldn’t see anything at all; no wormhole, no other ships, nothing. Aura, systems check, I thought quickly, needing answers to questions that my survival would depend on.

Before Aura could finish her diagnostics, all hell broke loose around me. My ship’s sensors finished processing all the telemetry around me. Not only could I see the wormhole, now less than 2500 meters in front of me, I could also see the fifty plus battleships, the fifty plus fighters and destroyers with them, and the supercarrier less than 200 meters dead ahead.

I juked the ship to the left, not something you can do in many subcapital ships, and narrowly avoided colliding with the supercarrier. Unfortunately, my little display had drawn the attention of its commander, and a squad of fighter drones were already locking me down, quickly catching up to the Ripsack. I fired my microwarpdrive. It was completely unresponsive. Lovely.

The fighter drones peppered me with weapons fire, and my shields quickly eroded. My armour tanked Rifter would withstand a few more seconds, and I wanted to make every moment count. I focused on the nearest fighter, opening up a full volley from my 200 mm autocannons. After the initial volley I kept the shells cycling, overheating the rack as much as possible. My microwarpdrive activated of its own accord just as the first fighter drone exploded.

“Supercarrier at the sun! They’re gonna blow it up!”
“What? They’re pulling plasma from the sun?!?!”
“All pilots, engage the supercarrier located at the system’s star. That is our top priority!”

My top priority was not getting slagged, as the remaining two fighters continued to hunt me. I received an incoming message, from an ISD reporter. “As a famous war hero, would you give us a quick report on the situation on Yulai?”

“Now is NOT a good time, reporter.” I barked, turning the channel off.

“Supercarrier P11! I repeat P11!”
“Confirmed on P11, pilot. Need help ASAP!”
“It’s warped from P2! Keep at it!”

Three supercarriers in one system. I had never heard of such a large assault by the Nation before. Between the wormholes and the sheer mass of the super capital ships, I was concerned for the balance of the gravity wells of the system. Kuvakei was either a mad despot, or he had something painful up his sleeve.

As my ship avoided weapons lock from a nearby Caldari cruiser, I did have to acknowledge Kuvakei was right about at least one thing: we were definitely a disorganized bunch…

My armour was failing at less than 25%, and I engaged my warp core, aligning for the nearest jump gate. I had no chance of damaging the supercarrier, and had already lost contact with Nate and Niko. Rhade had withdrawn to the dark side of a nearby moon and cloaked, staying close just in case she could assist me.

I exited warp, knowing the fighters wouldn’t be far behind. I was done here, and let Rhade know I was leaving. Jump Gate Traffic Control, of course, had an entirely different plan for me altogether.

“Your request has been denied, due to your recent aggressive activities.”

Great. The entire system had turned to shit, and some minimum wage switch controller was denying access to one of the only ways out of this system?!?

A tractor beam seized my ship.

The jump gate was processing my request. I was thoroughly confused.

“We are currently experiencing heavier than normal levels of traffic. Your request will be processed in 2m42s. Thank you for your patience. We apologize for any inconvenience.”

Three seconds later, the remaining fighter drones emerged from warp, weapons hot. I returned fire as best I could, but with my ship locked down I was a sitting duck. There was no way I would be able to destroy two fighter drones while immobile.

My armour depleted further, dangerously low at 8% after the first pass of the fighters. I watched, helpless, as they circled, coming in for the killing blow.

A brilliant explosion confused me. A moment later, another ball of light and heat appeared where the drones were. A punisher flew past me, but I couldn’t make out any identifying markings, and my HUD was toast.

A double click in the local emergency channel let me know the identity of my rescuer … Veshta Yoshida, my hated Amarr nemesis throughout the war.

Maybe Kuvakei had it wrong. Maybe we could unite ourselves against the greatest evil this universe had yet seen. Maybe pigs could fly outta my arse while we’re at it.

Hours later, I read the reports from other pilots that remained: the supercarrier at Yulai’s star had been destroyed, the sun saved. The remaining forces withdrew back into their wormholes. Yulai had been saved.

There wasn’t a single account of Kuvakei being on the scene. Coward.

The citizens of Yulai would come to call the assembled pilots of that day “The Saviours of Yulai”. Many relished in the glory of that battle, but it was short lived. Kuvakei had a master plan all along, and it was a masterful stroke none of us had seen coming.