“I accept your price, agent. I will deal with this situation immediately.”

My Rifter class frigate, the Ripsack, was still warm from just having docked moments earlier; the agent hadn’t taken any time in contacting me. I’m sure I just happened to be the next reputable capsuleer in line, but still, sometimes it felt good to think that agents offered me the more lucrative jobs based on my reputation and employment history.

Within moments I had cleared the station, my small and nimble ship aligning quickly for the Abudban system. I was in pursuit of hijacked fuel for the station; such a simple commodity, but so essential to the well being of all the lives onboard.

Aura flagged an item on my HUD; one of her programmed alerts was to notify me when my name was mentioned in local comm chatter. I took a quick look.

“Well there’s a blast from the past, Colonel Wieler…”  Niko Succorso said.

I hadn’t seen Niko in years. He had been the PVP Director for Freeform Industries, back when I flew under their employment before the war. Niko was a fierce, but fair man, and I had always held him in high regard.

Last I had heard, he had dropped off the grid completely to enjoy civilian life. It was good to see that rumour was unsubstantiated.

“What do you mean blast from the past?” I started in a private comm, “I haven’t gone anywhere. Good to see you again, old friend.”

I still had a few minutes before I would pass through the Abudban gate in Rens, then warp to the last known location of the kidnappers. I could squeeze a quick conversation in with an old corpmate.

“Was getting the itch planetside.” Niko began. “Wanted to see if I could still feel exhilaration up here in the stars.”

“There really is nothing quite like it.” I offered, just happy to see a retired pilot back in action.

We talked about his “retirement”, him settling down, working a regular job, etc, etc. We talked about old corp members, and how I hadn’t really run into anyone since those days. We spoke on Ushra’Khan, and the enfolding drama that led to Damu’Khonde, then Ushra’Khan once again, as well as how Masua’at Matari was treating me.

“Surprised to see you retired from the military yourself, Roc. I enjoyed watching you on the vids. Always made me shake my head. Your ego really knows no bounds.” He chuckled.

I often wondered why some found me egotistical. I had never claimed to be better than anyone else. I had never ridden on the coat tails of someone else’s success to get where I was. Everything I had done, everything I said was of personal confidence and accomplishment.

Then it dawned on me. It was meant as an affectionate joke.

“Yeah, well, I ran out of women in the militia to enjoy so it was time for me to leave.”

“Speaking of women, Rha’de says hi.”

Rha’de. I hadn’t heard that name in a long while. She was Niko’s girl, a fellow corpmate, but man did I ever have a thing for her at one point. Granted, I seem to feel that way about every attractive woman I meet, but really there’s nothing wrong with that. I love women, what could be said?

“You’re still taking good care of my girl I hope?” I asked.

“Aye. Even engaged her.” Niko replied.

“Well I’ll be. None of us ever saw that coming.” I said sarcastically, laughter trailing my words. It had been common corp knowledge that Niko and Rha’de would be spoken of in the eternal songs of the bards. Theirs was an immortal love story, literally, and if it wasn’t so sickeningly romantic, I would retell that story here.

“Congrats, Niko. You both truly deserve that happiness.”

By now, our conversation had gone well beyond my travel time. I had actually tracked down, engaged and destroyed the Guristas kidnappers, as well as brought the victims onboard the Ripsack, and was already returning to the agent in Rens.

Traumatic as it was, I had no choice but to keep the victims in my cargo hold; there just wasn’t enough room anywhere else.

It had been a good conversation with Niko, but I had to figure out a polite way of cutting it short. Business was business after all.

Niko spoke. “Listen, Rha’de’s comming me now. Needs me to pop over insystem. I’d love to chitchat, but she wants the same, and frankly Roc, she has a nicer rack than you.”

“I remember.” I replied quickly. We both laughed and said our goodbyes.

As I docked in Rens, I watched as the victims exited my cargohold and were quickly reunited with their waiting loved ones. A quick glance at my account confirmed the agent was good on his end of our arrangement.

I hoped to run into Niko again.

AMAMAKE SYSTEM
HEIMATAR REGION

There are a great many things in this universe that boggle my mind’s logic. For example, I found it maddening that Concord took such a complete neutral stance on the war between the accursed Amarr and my noble brethern. It was infuriating that I could be engaged in a battle outside of a Minmatar station in a Minmatar controlled system, only to pass by those same despicable Amarr pilots along the corridors of the station’s “capsuleer only” levels hours later.

Sometimes I felt the best way to educate was by example.

Case in point.

I was sitting in a pub enjoying a pint, minding my own business during some downtime, when in walked a group of loud, obnoxious Amarr pilots. I don’t recall the name of the pub anymore, nor the names of any of the Amarr pilots, though at the time I recognized one or two from the kill logs secured in my file backup.

I ignored the situation as best I could, remembering Concord’s zero tolerance policy for bringing any type of racial, sexual, or historical violence into the neutrality of the stations they oversaw, including the one I was in.

So be it.

I enjoyed some wings, experimenting with various sauce combinations, while downing a few refreshing ales to pass the time away.

The rowdy group of Amarr pod pilots became increasingly loud, and I noticed I wasn’t the only pub patron casting a harsh glance their way.

By the time I had finished my meal and lit a cigar, my patience was at an end, which said a lot, as we all know I am a very patient man.

I walked over to the group, grabbed a chair and sat down.

I removed the cigar from my mouth and blew a puff of smoke at the nearest Amarr. All conversation stopped around us as the group looked menacingly towards me, one of them waving the smoke away from his face.

“I couldn’t help but wonder.” I began aloud. “Do you lot fight for freedom or for honour?”

One of the group ignored me, turning back to his colleague. Two others whispered in hushed tones. Another took the bait.

“Not that our business is any of yours, brutor.” he said with great disdain in his girly voice. “But we fight for the honour of the Empire.”

His colleagues all smiled, nodding their heads in agreement. It was a great and witty victory for them.

I drew in another sweet breath of the cigar’s aromatic smoke, leaning back in my chair, taking my time to reply.

“I fight for the freedom of the Matari, of course.” I began casually. Suddenly, I sat bolt upright, the legs of my chair slamming against the floor, causing all of the Amarr pilots (and a few innocent patrons), to start in shock.

“I guess it just goes to show we all fight for what we don’t have.” I snarled, upending the table.

I knew Concord’s finest would be along momentarily, but as I mentioned, some lessons are best served with a clear example.

I didn’t throw the first punch. I didn’t throw the last punch.

I woke up in a secured medbay, and laughed. My ribs cried out in protest, and the left side of my swollen face hurt something fierce.

I laughed again. It was a great joke.

Overcrowded shopping malls, cash exchanging hands at an unprecedented rate, strangers fighting with each other over the last of a child’s top toy wish; ah Christmas!

Yet still I am full of Christmas Spirit this year; it’s the one time of year that people can make an excuse for my usual eccentricities.

So I have gifts! Nothing fancy mind you, but hey, it’s more than you got from that other blog you visit!

I spent some time on Singularity this weekend, playing with the character creator, seeing what I could come up with for good ol Roc.

Overall, it was a fun experience, and didn’t take that long to come up with something to share. Unfortunately, there are still no tattoos, so I added that in quickly (and poorly) in Photoshop. Few other things I noticed:

• No trapezius muscle grouping. Hard to make his neck bulge
• No chest muscle grouping really. I can move it up/down, make it more defined, but can’t increase the size. I noticed the females can be quite ample though. Hardly fair.
• No height control. Roc is short. At least I hope he will be for Incarna.
• Brutors have thick lips. Even with the minimum settings, Roc’s ancestry clearly shows through in CCP’s vision of the race moreso than my own 3D work. I will have to adjust mine more than likely, as CCP knows their own better than I would, right?

I have to admit though, I was impressed with the ability to age, as Roc has never been young in appearance since he became a Capsuleer. This was a nice touch. Thanks CCP!

So here we go, enough prefacing.

And there you have it, the current progress on ex-Matar Colonel Roc Wieler.

As an added gift for the ladies, here’s a little pinup for you to enjoy. Men, feel free to enjoy it as well, I guess.

The larger version can be downloaded by clicking through my Flickr gallery on the top right of my blog.

And finally, as Roc changes and develops, so does his story. To that end, he’s come a long way from the title track of Bio, so I’ve taken the time to redefine Roc’s title track, and made it available for your downloading pleasure, free of charge.

NEW EDEN’S FAVOURED SON

I’m sure there’s more in store before Christmas, so check back daily!

I saw an angel pass me by,
It moved my heart, I cannot lie.
Out here, alone, in the deep of space,
It brought a smile to my face.

I saw an angel pass me by,
It caused a tear in my eye.
A silent night, what was the chance,
This angel and I, embraced in dance?

I saw an angel pass me by,
So graceful, so nimble, as it did fly.
I quickly approached, my mind in awe,
Unable to fathom this sight I saw.

I saw an angel pass me by,
Circling towards me, my oh my.
A Christmas miracle I did behold,
An angel of God, or so the story is told.

I saw an angel pass me by,
In my soul, I knew, it was time to die.
My autocannons sent it straight to hell;
One less to deal with from the Cartel.

– Roc Wieler

Merry Christmas!

From me to you and yours, have a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

REPUBLIC FLEET LOGISTIC SUPPORT
AMAMAKE SYSTEM
HEIMATAR REGION

I have always been a sucker for shiny things; whether it’s women in latex, the latest technologies (I was first of my peers to get the upgraded NeoCom), or a shiny new prototype ship. And while I’m willing to pay for all these great things, they are even more enjoyable when free.

In this particular instance, I’m referring to the Echelon, a shiny new ship bestowed upon the capsuleer masses to give us an edge over the Sansha incursion.

I had the option of having my new shiny delivered to my hangar in Dal, one system over. Knowing the hell hole that is Amamake, it made more sense for me to do so. I had suffered many losses in Amamake, and wasn’t about to foolishly through away a new ship.

The Hasimu, my Cynabal class cruiser, was fueled and ready for launch. I was eager to be away from this forsaken place.

Get your intel first. Find out if it’s clear to undock from an ally. Patience, Roc. Shiny, shiny, shiny!

I suppressed the nagging voice in the back of my head. It’s only one jump to Dal. There’s little chance of me running into anything I can’t handle at this time of day.

“Permission to undock and clear station granted.” the docking manager stated over comms.

I was good to go.

The tractor beams pulled my ship through the various undocking tubes until I could see open space, and what appeared to be some type of battle going on, which wasn’t uncommon for Amamake. Still, I would have to be on my toes and slip through unseen. The undocking procedure was automated, so my fate had already been decided.

I willed Aura to bring all systems online and put my combat systems on standby.

“Greetings capsuleer, and welcome to the Aura Neural Interface. My advanced networking capabilities, combined with the most modern of Empire technologies will allow you to …”

Oh hell no. Told you. Shut up, voice!

Aura was communicating her first run messaging. My system had been reset. I quickly pulled up my HUD as the station docking tractor beam released me. Everything had been reverted to factory default. How did I miss that?

You didn’t do a preflight check is how.

I immediately aligned for the star closest to my current bearing, but I was too late. I heard the familiar blaring of target lock, and before I could react, I was being warp scrambled.

“This is capsuleer Roc Wieler, requesting emergency docking clearance. I’m under attack outside the station by a hostile squad of pirates.”

I set the request to cycle as I turned towards the station. I did not want to engage in any way, or Concord would flag my hostile activity and docking clearance would be denied.

I cycled up the magnetic scattering amplifier, but it was probably a useless gesture on my end. This ship wasn’t combat ready. It was hard to even tell how many ships were attacking me from the pirate blob I could see visually as my overview was crammed down into a small pane on my HUD. I frantically tried to expand it, to at least garner a fighting chance here, all the while hoping the docking manager would respond to my distress call.

My shields failed rapidly, followed by my armour, and still no response from the station.

I managed to see that there were only three assailants directly involved in this attack; two Lokis and an Ashimmu. Lovely.

I watched my hull disintegrate and immediately knew my pod was in jeopardy. As my ship rocked, exploding brilliantly around me, I couldn’t even orient myself before I experienced a bright flash of light and woke up cursing in a clone chamber.

My ship had been lost. My implants had been lost. As I checked the records on the monitoring station, I also came to the dread realization that even some of my heavy ships training had been lost.

Not a good day.

OOC: Thanks to @TheSlayerEve for educating my dumb ass on the wonders of exporting my overview, as well as backing up my settings folder before patch day.

Just goes to remind me that we’re always noobs in EVE Online.

KBP7-G

I was walking through the station promenade, along a more narrow section, trapped behind two very slow moving Caldari teenagers. They were of average height and build, and I couldn’t help but wonder if they were so slow moving due to their pants being secured below their asses. What the hell kind of non-functional style trend was that? Ridiculous.

I listened to them mutter and talk trash, and realized they would last less than two seconds in any of my military programs. Finally, the walkway widened, so I quickly made my way by them.

That is when the one I was passing turned and spit, his expunge landing on the side of my face.

“Oh shit! Dude, I’m so sorry. I didn’t even see you! Shit man!” he apologized profusely as his friend giggled hysterically. I could feel the slimey weight of the loogie sliding down my face.

I looked at his terrified face through my shades.

“Wipe it off.” I said, thinly veiled hostility in my voice.

“What? Are you serious? What? Hell no.” He replied, his friend nearly losing it in laughter.

“Did I stutter? Wipe. It. Off. Now.”

I turned my full width to face him, my muscles rippling through my shirt, veins bulging in my neck, my face flushing with anger as I blocked his path.

To his credit, he only hesitated for a moment before reaching out with the palm of his hand and wiping the mess off of my face. He looked as though he was going to puke from doing so.

I smiled and thanked him, continuing on my way as his friend doubled over in a renewed fit of laughter.

It was shortly after that when a young Gallente woman beckoned at me from her shop. Out of sheer curiousity, and the fact that she was undeniably hot, I made my way over to her.

She was tall, thin, but stacked, with gorgeous blue eyes and a very welcoming smile. She was asking me about my hands, what I did for a living, and what I used to clean myself.

Before I could make up a lie so as to not reveal myself as a capsuleer, she had taken my meaty hands in her small delicate ones, and commented on how strong and rough they were. Her touch sent tingles up and down my spine, and I quickly noted it had been three days since I had last bed a woman. Three days! Dear God how I had not noticed it had been so long!

She bathed my hands in some rare Amarr sea salt, which should’ve repulsed me, but I was completely captivated by her. I smiled dumbly, like a prime male in heat, nodding my head when she spoke, but staring at her intently, wanting her.

As she went to ring in my sale of whatever the hell it was I just bought, I commented to her coworker that a little flirtation goes a long way for sales apparently.

I expected the comment to fall flat.

Instead, this beautiful brunette turned to me, her smoldering, dark eyes piercing my heart (among other things), and she moved closer to me, a warm smile on her face. I’m a man that doesn’t have a lot of personal space, but she was so close to me I could feel the warmth coming off of her body. She was a little heavier, but still very curvaceous, clearly Matari, though I couldn’t tell from where. When she spoke, her accent was melodious and mesmerizing, but still I couldn’t place her clan.

“So what you’re saying is if I were to be closer to my male customers, they might be inclined to buy more from me.”

She looked me up and down, and ran her hand gently up my thigh, sending fire through my body.

Once again I was left nodding dumbly.

“I’ll take three of whatever the hell it is you’re selling.” I said foolishly, eliciting laughter from both of them.

I smiled back with my most charming smile.

The next morning I made them breakfast while they showered, thanked them both for an incredibly satisfying night, then showed them to the door.

Amarr sea salt scrub, I thought, shaking my head. Well, might as well try it out now that I’m good and dirty.