Tag Archives: Roc Wieler

History in the Making

Posted by Roc Wieler on

Our historians have pored over the information found on the drive cluster EDF-285. There’s a lot on there, but not all of it pertinent to the Wildfire Khumaak. I’ve been in contact with a Krusual historian who has spent some time researching the Khumaak. The historians cross-referenced each other’s work and stumbled upon a lead. I guess those nerds are good for something, eh?

I’m sending you to Hiva Shesha, the Krusual historian. She’s taken her poor interns with her to the San Matar constellation – right in the heart of Ammatar space. I don’t know what’s she discovered, but I’m sure it’s important. Best you get over there and talk with her. Let us know what you’ve uncovered, and keep your eyes peeled for our missing agent. I have a feeling that he went to seek out his Ammatar contact. There’s no telling what he’s up to, either.

Anyway, good luck.

And with that, my relationship with Nilf Abruskur was over. I had started out detesting the man, but had come to realize he was simply the wrong guy in an awkward situation, doing the best he could.

I would like to say I respected him, but that would be false. I tolerated him. I understood him.

I was happy to be done with him. Besides, I was looking forward to meeting Hiva Shesha; she had a hot name.

Playing all Their Cards – Epilogue

Posted by Roc Wieler on

The day had arrived, and I was prepared for the meet. My service teams had gone over the Onslaught with a fine toothed comb, giving her the thumbs up. She was pristine once again, fully operational, and ready to be of continued service to the Minmatar Republic.

With newly restored vigor, she surged out of the docking bay, the rumble of her thrusters being felt throughout the ship. She was as eager as the rest of us, hungry for answers, craving action, and we all knew she was a capable predator.

I returned to Aldrat, ready to be briefed for my next mission, a hit and run on the Angel Cartel while Nilf and his negotiation team kept them busy elsewhere.

We’re counting on you, Colonel Wieler, not just for the information this time, but to help us keep our reputation and morale after being dealt such a blow by those Angel bastards. The RSS is hurting right now. I need you to fire my men up. Make us proud.

Nilf saluted me crisply, respect finally being shown to my rank and ability.

That was thirty minutes ago.

I laid in the course for Hardbako, and arrived to the adjacent system quickly, and made my way towards the Angel bunker without incident.

Five minutes ago, Nilf commed me, urgency in his voice:

They’re stalling the negotiations. Our scouts and scanners are picking up no sign of the reinforcements they were going to bring. I’m getting the feeling we’ve been screwed again. Get the data and get out.

Three minutes ago, as I made my way at top speed towards the Drive Cluster Archive at the Angel’s undefended base, their ambush was sprung.

Seventeen frigates and assault frigates closed the gap quickly after warping in. Six battlecruisers followed on their tails, their added firepower a welcome addition to the fast moving frigates. And in the distance, from sniping range, ten battleships lit up the darkness of space with dozens of deadly missile volleys.

Thirty seconds ago, my newly acquired hacking skills were put to the test under extremely hostile conditions. My shields were close to buckling, which was no small feat given my Pith X-Large Shield Booster, but I kept my cool, and focused on the task at hand, slowly making my virtual way through the security system’s many failsafes.

Ten seconds ago I was rewarded with the prize we all had been seeking, information about the Wildfire Khumaak.

dataThis is a cluster of drives, each of which contains several exabytes worth of encoded data. Somewhere in here is vital information on the Wildfire Khumaak.

As my armour groaned and buckled, entire plates forcibly ripped off of my ship, I knew it was time to leave. I had accomplished my mission; we had what we had come for.

There was no glory to be sought facing overwhelming odds; only death. And while many capsuleers would turn to engage the enemy even against such a superior force, jeopardizing their ships and their crews, I was not such a pilot.

My orders weren’t total annihilation; this was a retrieval op.

In short order, I handed over the drives, and spoke with Nilf once again.

Excellent work, Roc. The Republic Security Services are in your debt.

To hear those words come from his mouth was almost as sweet as the victory I felt over being closer to solving this mystery surrounding the Khuumak.

I felt I was close.

[OOC] Going Green, seeing red

Posted by Roc Wieler on

I’m all for being environmentally friendly.

My carbon footprint has been small since long before that fad phrase even existed. It’s not that I believe we need to save the planet; the polar opposite in fact. I think the earth was fine before we even existed, and it will heal itself and be fine long after we’ve managed to somehow wipe ourselves out. We should call our eco campaigns “Save the Humans” or something, as it really just is a vain and impotent effort to extend our flawed existence as a failing race.

But that isn’t the point of this rant. Today is about plastic bags.

Sure, plastic grocery bags are made from petroleum based products and are very bad for the environment, taking 450 – 1,000 years to breakdown, I get that.

But do you remember the days of paper bags and plastic bags that were recyclable?

We don’t even have that option anymore. Paper bags are 100% recyclable. Plastic is 99% recyclable. The problem of course is the laziness of people. 1% of 1 billion bags are actually recycled. That is a disgusting figure that just reinforces my earlier statement about us being a flawed and failing species.

But not even this is my point today.

Today is about being charged 5 cents per plastic bag. Really? You’re going to rant about something so obviously good for the environment?

Yes, yes I am.

I mean, before the days of environmental awareness being a catch phrase and plastered all over the media, companies still charged us for these bags. How do I figure? Easy, operating costs. Bags have always been factored into the final markup of a given product. The expense is always passed on to the consumer. It’s simple business logic. It’s the same as rent, wholesale purchasing costs, staffing costs, and everything else that factors into how much more we pay for products at the end of the day.

So riddle me this. Why is it now that if I go into a grocery store and I bring my own bag (which I will rant about in a minute), I don’t get a discount on the items I purchase to offset the hidden cost of the plastic bags I’m not using but are already factored into the cost of the item I am buying?

And why is it if I do need plastic bags, I am charged an additional 5 cents per bag on top of the hidden cost already incurred for them by the company?

The answer is surprisingly easy: it’s a cash grab, plain and simple.

While I let that roll around in the back of your head, let me talk about these new re-usable fabric bags that cost between $1 – $2 but are somehow marketed as good for the environment.

Did you know they are ZERO percent recyclable? Fact.

So what happens to these bags? Well, they certainly do last longer; that is the objective. In the short term, they produce less waste. But what happens 10 – 20 years from now when all those bags are torn with holes and no longer of use? They’ll start being dumped in our landfills.

But in typical “Think about the now” approach, this generation thinks it’s a good idea. Let our kids sort out our mess. Lovely. Let’s continue to ignore that greater symptoms of convulsive death and apply a band aid solution and hope it takes.

And again, with no alternative like paper bags, as consumers we’re pretty much screwed. I mean, I get dirty looks at the grocery store when I ask for plastic bags, or bring my own plastic bags. Oh how influenced by media we are. How dare he not purchase those fabric bags for $2 each, of which none of the proceeds go to helping the environment. The scoundrel!

But back to the cash grab, and why we shouldn’t stand for it.

I support charities monthly. I won’t tell you which ones, as that’s my business, but I donate my money, and my time, to causes I believe in and support, and encourage others to do the same for whatever stirs fire within them. Get involved. Make a difference.

Is that 5 cents per bag going into some government or private fund to help the environment? Nope. If you don’t believe me, Google it. Look up any grocery chain’s environmental statement to see what they are doing to help our environment.

All of them say the same generic bullshit about carbon footprints, offering fabric bags, reducing plastic bags, etc, etc. I came across only ONE grocery chain here in Canada that actually is using the money to research better packaging methods and alternatives with the money collected from grocery bags. Only one. Failing race.

So where is that money going then? Right back into company profits. They’ve already charged us for the bags in the price of the products we consume from them. They’re charging us again in the name of the environment. And yet, the money goes straight to the corporate coffers, padding the profit margins, and making the rich richer.

It makes me sick. It really does.

So I walk into a Subway restaurant the other day to order a sub. I like Subway. I’ve lost weight because of Subway. Their $5 footlong specials have also helped me maintain a decent budget for work lunches at times. Of course, they’ve increased the price of that deal to $5.49 now…

So I suck it up, figure it’s still a deal, though I won’t be eating there as much anymore, and head to the cash.

“Would you like a bag for that?” the clerk asks.

“Yes please, it’s to go.” I respond politely.

He charges me 5 cents for the bag. Have you seen a Subway bag? It’s about 1/6th the size of a grocery bag. It’s a thin, narrow sleeve that a footlong sub barely fits into, and he’s charging me 5 cents.

He doesn’t bat an eyelash about it. We’re so ingrained as a non-thinking, conforming society to just accept what we’re told, that it seems perfectly natural and reasonable to him to charge me for this pathetic excuse of a bag.

I cancelled the order and walked out. I won’t be going to Subway anymore. Don’t even get me started about the 25 cent Interac fee they introduced…

I just wish people would start thinking. That’s the crux of it. We’re fed fantastic marketing lines, and we blindly swallow it, like fish on a hook, but what good is it really accomplishing? I mean, what happens to the fish? Nothing good.

Is the earth going to be saved because of plastic bag initiatives? Are we even making a dent? And does it even matter at this point?

Look at the weather systems around the globe. Look at how the earth is already violently responding to what we’ve done to it.

It’s in the process of wiping us out, in self defence. We’re already doomed. We’re not going to make it, and we have only ourselves to blame.

It’s like I tell overweight people that want to get in shape, “You didn’t get overweight overnight, so it’s going to take you a while to change how your body looks. Don’t give up.”

Unfortunately, the same doesn’t apply for the environment. We’ve been destroying our beloved earth for hundreds of years now. It’s passed the point of repair. We’re prolonging the inevitable.

These are simple facts that anyone can find if they were just assed to look.

But nobody does.

We don’t want to accept reality. We want to live in our little bubbles of perception that leave us feeling comfortable and safe. It’s why we go to church to absolve our guilt. It’s why we help old ladies across the street. It’s why we shovel our neighbour’s driveway of snow in the winter.

We live in constant denial of who and what we are as human beings. We think ourselves superior in every way, and that nothing will end our reign of authority on this planet.

Well guess what, we already lost; we just haven’t accepted our extinction yet.

And no, I’m not being fatalistic. I’m quite a happy person, and as guilty as any.

After all, all this is coming from a guy that likes internet spaceships.

Rancer

Posted by Roc Wieler on

shuttleRun

JITA SYSTEM

“Caldari Shuttle DNS-321; shut down your drives and prepare to be boarded.” the State Protectorate Naval Officer repeated with hostility.

“This will be your last warning, Minmatar. We know who you are. Cease and desist immediately, or be destroyed.”

I had appropriated a Caldari shuttle for my journey to Jita. I had an underworld contact there, and figured if I played my cards right, I could slip insystem, spend a couple of days hacking computer systems with my colleague, then make a silent egress undetected. I had even falsified the shuttle’s transponder code, but to no avail.

I banked the shuttle hard, aligning to Jita IV – Moon IV – Caldari Nav Assembly Plant, the main market station of the galaxy.

The Caldari Faction Cruisers initiated a warp scramble, but they were too late. My Caldari shuttle was quick to align, and effortlessly made the jump to warp speed.

I knew they would be waiting for me at the other end of my warp tunnel, and already had made my decision on how to deal with the situation.

Aura reluctantly followed my mental commands, disabling the pod ejection safety protocols. Chances are I would end up becoming space dust, splattered across hundreds of light years, but if I angled it right, if my relative velocity was just so, and I managed to time my maneuvering thrusters with perfect timing…

I exited warp one hundred kilometers from the station. The Caldari State Protectorate was waiting. I quickly entered warp again, aligned to my safespot, and sped away again.

At 8 AU, I gave the mental command. Eject …

I felt the acceleration away from the ship, then my body repeatedly wracked with pain and vertigo as I was slammed around inside my pod by the sheer force of physics. I puked numerous times, almost a steady stream, gagging on the nutrient tube in my throat.

My vision blurred, I thought I was going to blackout. It was nigh impossible to even read my HUD, but I did.

Short bursts from my maneuvering thrusters successfully stopped my pod from spinning out of control, making it easier to get my bearings. A few more moments and I had managed to reduce my speed to real space.

I allowed myself a moment to shake off the effects of what I had just done. My ears rang; my brain felt rattled. I ached throughout every muscle and joint of my body, but I was alive, and if fortune favoured me once more that day, the State Protectorate would be closing in on an empty shuttle.

Pulling up my system diagnostics I quickly saw that my pod was intact enough to warp to the Assembly Plant. I gave the command, and was thankful when I was finally docked and out of my pod.

Docking control wouldn’t fire on a capsuleer’s pod, regardless of race or faction; a nice Concord caveat I had taken advantage of.

I let the hot decontamination shower clean the pod goo from my body. I was left naked and exposed. Ordinarily, it was a feeling I detested, being detached from my ships.

To command such magnificent, majestic ships able to destroy entire squads of lesser pilots was one of the greatest thrills a capsuleer could experience. It made one feel … big.

But right now, I needed to be small. I needed to be microscopic and disappear into the Jita ecosystem.

I heard some movement to my left, and quickly ducked behind some nearby supply crates, still dripping wet and nude.

“The carpet matches the drapes.” a slightly high pitched male voice said.

I relaxed. My contact had arrived.

I stood up from behind the crates, and threw a friendly wave towards my colleague, who in return smiled, and threw some utilitarian clothing at my feet.

I had arrived in Jita.

TWO DAYS LATER

I had learned all I felt I needed to for the upcoming operation. I could successfully hack level 4 computer systems with relative ease. We were both surprised how quickly I took to it.

I downplayed the whole neural imprinting aspect of the training, and simply lavished compliments to my colleague’s obvious teaching prowess.

So with that out of the way, I headed back to a public hangar I had rented under an alias, and took a long look at my newest ship, a Loki class tech 3 strategic cruiser I had christened Ridhe.

ridhe

She was a beautiful ship in every way. Modular, deadly, a reflection of myself, and not in an arrogant way. She was as personal to a pilot as a ship could get, and I knew she wouldn’t let me down.

The problem was I couldn’t limit myself to one fit, but had narrowed it down to two. I had the secondary fit loaded into the cargo hold, and prepped the ship for launch.

I checked my route to the nearest friendly system. Only one lowsec system along the path I had chosen, Rancer. No problem.

I should’ve hired a freighter pilot to carry my new prized ship back home. I should’ve circumvented any lowsec systems along my route. I should’ve calmed down, thought about the 2.4 billion isk I had just sunk into this ship and fittings, and not been so excitable.

Maybe then things would’ve turned out differently, but then again, maybe not.

I shot out of the Assembly Plant at full speed, and quickly aligned and warped, ignoring the protests of the State Protectorate, who were particularly keen on my capture or demise.

I made topspeed through every Caldari system I had to traverse, not so much as blinking until I was in safe space once again.

It was almost anti-climatic, I know, but not every event in my life was full of drama.

Next system, Rancer. Almost home.

I rematerialized in Rancer, Aura warning me of a pirate Broadsword off the bow of my ship. Immediately, I was under attack, but didn’t panic.

I wasn’t in the mood for a fight; I just wanted to get this ship safely home. Slowly, I turned towards the gate, overheating my afterburner, knowing I should be able to make the 15km easily in this armour tanked monster.

My warp drive was scrammed, but I wasn’t webbed. That was good.

A Rokh warped in, and opened fire. I frowned as my shields disappeared, but then smiled as my armour tank held.

A Megathron warped in, and I knew I was in trouble.

8km to the gate was when I made the single most expensive mistake of my career to date, though there were many more in the future.

I returned fire.

30 seconds later, I reached the gate, and was denied access to its capabilities due to my recent hostile activities. Immediately, I cursed myself for being so foolish, and cycled down my weapons systems, but it was too late.

In a vain attempt to buy precious seconds, I orbited the jump gate, overheating my repair systems, pouring capacitor batteries into them like crazy.

1 minute, 30 seconds later, I still couldn’t access the gate. From what I remembered of Concord protocol, cooldown times for aggression were calculated to 60 seconds. The gate should’ve been responding by then, unless it had been compromised in some way I was unaware of.

2 minutes, 12 seconds into the fight, the Ridhe had nothing more to give. The last bit of my armour buckled, and my hull disintegrated from around me.

In a blinding flash, my Loki was no more; her maiden voyage lasting all of 20 minutes.

A second blinding flash surprised me, and I woke up in Dal, disoriented, but knowing what had happened.

I cursed again for flying with a +5 implant set. When would I learn?

After routine medical and psychological examination protocol, and putting on a fresh set of clothing, I headed to my personal hangar, prepped a Rifter, and headed back to Aldrat.

At least I was ready for my mission.

RIDHE LOSS:

Destroyed:

4 x 220mm Vulcan AutoCannon II

1 x Invulnerability Field II

1 x Amarr Navy Energized Adaptive Nano Membrane

1 x 800mm Reinforced Steel Plates II

2 x Medium Trimark Armor Pump I

1 x Medium Ancillary Current Router I

1 x J5B Phased Prototype Warp Scrambler I

2 x 1600mm Reinforced Rolled Tungsten Plates I

1 x Republic Fleet Gyrostabilizer

1 x Hacking Skillbook (dammit!)

Dropped:

2 x 220mm Vulcan AutoCannon II

1 x Invulnerability Field II

1 x 10mn Afterburner II

1 x Amarr Navy Small Capacitor Booster

1 x Amarr Navy Energized Adaptive Nano Membrane

1 x Damage Control II

1 x 1600mm Reinforced Steel Plates II

2 x Vespa EC-600 drones

6 x Hornet EC-300 drones

1,622 Republic Fleet EMP M rounds

1 x X5 Prototype I Engine Envervator

1 x Codebreaker I

Playing all Their Cards

Posted by Roc Wieler on

I was still seething at my own failure by the time I arrived back in Aldrat. It appeared Nilf Abruskur wsa still reeling from my failure as well.

We dropped the ball on this one, Roc Wieler, and those putrescent, motherless Angel freaks made sure to capitalize on it. Our only consolation is that it cost them, too. We’ve managed to root the Angel spy within our ranks – the one who tipped the Cartel about your visit to the historians. They’re in a world of trouble right now; you can trust me on that.

I bit my tongue for the moment. My own hostility at this game Nilf had been playing, keeping me in the dark, sending me on missions with limited information, putting myself and my crews in unnecessary danger, was second only to my remorse at the historians whose lives were lost during the last engagement.

From our initial interrogation of this captured Angel agent, we have learned that just before the Cartel blew up the outpost, they managed to find and make away with the data we needed on the Wildfire Khumaak. The historian that was supposed to have a text for you relating to it was tortured into handing over his research and was then killed.

Nilf paused, letting his words sink in, letting the blame sink in. Even though he had used the royal ‘we’ in his speech, it was clear who was going to shoulder the blame for this failure. The only reason he hadn’t hung me out to dry already was that he still needed me; and better me than having to put trust in some other random capsuleer, though if push came to shove, I am sure there were hundreds whom could do the job.

They’re offering us a deal. We give them back their agent, and they give us the information we want. They tried to make a bid for the Wildfire, but there wasn’t a chance in hell we were going to entertain that idea, especially once we discovered who their agent was. We negotiated it down to the agent, but we have no intention of making a fair deal with them, simply because when it comes to the Angels, there is no such thing. They have no desire for the safe return of this traitorous scum; in fact if they could kill him right now to shut him up, they wouldn’t hesitate.

I silently agreed with the Angels’ sentiment. This traitor, whomever he might be, had traded lives for money, put profit over morality, and it sickened me.

In addition to providing us intel that the historical texts on the Khumaak have been taken, our captured agent has also revealed something else; its location. His testimony and a good deal of other intelligence we’re receiving is pointing to one of the Angels’ main staging outposts in Metropolis.

Finally, something tangible. I felt we were close.

The defense forces posted at this place are impressive, Colonel, beyond even your capabilities. We’ve come up with a plan to lure some out and reduce their numbers to something you’ll be more easily able to manage. We forced subversion on our Angel prisoner, made him tell his superiors that we’re sending a huge ambush fleet to the meeting point. This should goad them into bringing along a bigger reserve of manpower, most of which will be drawn from that base.

While we’re having the meet, you sneak in, bypass the remaining resistance, and grab the texts that were taken. Underneath the central command center, we’re told there will be several data banks. The documents we’re looking for will be in one of these. You’ll need to deactivate the security firewalls, which means some hacking. You’re looking for a drive cluster called “EDF-285”. Grab it and get the hell out of there before the Angels figure out the game.

Lovely. This time Arsten Takalo wasn’t around to divert attention from this flaw I possessed; I had no hacking skills.

“When’s the meet? I’ll need time to prepare.” I asked.

“You have four days, Roc Wieler.” Nilf replied.

Four days was a long time for a capsuleer to engage in accelerated neural learning. In four days I could easily inject the skills I needed directly into my brain, and probably even get in some hands-on practice time.

I’d also been meaning to pick up a Loki T3 cruiser for quite some time now, so figured now was as good a time as any to kill two birds with one stone; I could pickup the required skillbooks I would need to learn Hacking, and do up a couple of fits for a Loki while I was at it.

Only problem was, I would have to go to Jita, the market hub of the New Eden, right in the heart of Caldari high sec.

Well, I’d been through worse.

Who Art in Heaven

Posted by Roc Wieler on

36 HOURS LATER …

We’ve gone over the essential details from the information you recovered, Roc Wieler, good work on getting this back to us. Here’s the decoded message from our Ammatar source:

“All right, my sources have traced the origins of the Khumaak and we’ve been able to get a little bit of information, but we’re still digging. There’s remarkably little mention of this stuff anywhere in official records.

It’s called a Wildfire scepter. Apparently, the Wildfires were a particular kind of Khumaak-like scepter that existed only in certain conclaves of Starkman Prime in the years while the planet was under Amarrian occupation. The physical details all match up; the holes in the shaft, the blood obsidian sun center, the slightly smaller sun spirals. Only one other has been found, ever, and has since gone missing.

According to its previous owner, the wildfires were all destroyed some years before the Starkmanir rebellion in 22947, and it’s not even known for what purpose they were initially created or why, indeed, they were destroyed. We’ll have our sources keep investigating.

Lastly, I’ve cleared you for entrance to the ruins of Arzad. I’ve attached the relevant security access codes. I give you my word that the people there will provide their full cooperation and discretion. I’m told that one of the historians even has a text that mentions this Khumaak of yours.”

There is nothing to suggest that our own agent ever made it out to those ruins. He did not pick up the package you recovered, and he has still not returned to base. As our temporary representative, you will be standing in for him.

Your task is to travel to the system of Arzad, to an orbital forward point for an archeological dig being conducted on a nearby planet – Starkman Prime. There’s a team of historians and archeologists there, a couple of which are supposed to have texts that reference the Wildfire Scepters. Make your way over there and await further instructions. We’ll get to the bottom of this mystery yet.

Nilf disconnected abruptly.

Hmmm, I thought to myself. There is definitely some things he’s not telling me.

Firstly, Arzad was in Devoid region, roughly 14 jumps from my current location and smack dab in the middle of hostile Amarr war territory. In fact, I knew from firsthand experience that the 24th Imperial Crusade had a logistic support station there near Arzad VIII.

Why would there be an archeological dig going on in the middle of a combat zone? It didn’t make sense, unless things were truly that desperate, which was plausible I supposed.

Still, it didn’t feel right.

I asked Aura to run an analysis on the transmission; just to check validation and authenticity. She quickly did as I asked, noting one discrepancy between the transmission and the objective data sent: Nilf had sent me Erstur as my destination system, which was much closer than Arzad.

Things just got more peculiar.

Either he was aware our conversation was being listened in to, and was feeding disinformation to our audience, which would hopefully buy me some time to go to Erstur; or he genuinely made a mistake.

From what I could gather of the man, he wasn’t one that tolerated mistakes, least of all from himself. This left me more inclined to believe the first scenario.

In retrospect, I simply could’ve commed for confirmation, but I didn’t want to appear to be slow on the draw.

It was time to make a decision.

I flipped a coin; Arzad won.

14 JUMPS LATER …

The Onslaught made her way across space slowly to Arzad. Passing through Dal enroute, I continued to get updates from military intelligence; the Amarr were out and about in force it seemed. At least it wasn’t going to be a boring day.

I had a scout escort me to Amarr space, wherein he had to rejoin his fleet for another op. I thanked him, wishing him “fly safe”, the standard farewell between pilots.

I jumped into Arzad.

My heart sank as Aura set off every alarm she possessed. There was a gatecamp of at least a dozen Amarr battleships, another fifteen or so battlecruisers, and plenty of frigates, destroyers, cruisers and interceptors to round things out.

I had found the roaming Amarr fleet. Lucky me.

There was no way with my current fit that the Onslaught would be able to stand against this many capsuleers. I had my crews ready their battle stations, and weighed my options.

The gate I had just jumped through was 14 km away. Unfortunately, it would take me nearly 10 seconds to align from my current heading to that trajectory. In that time, I was sure to get webbed, scrammed and killed, and there were too many crew members onboard to consider.

There was nothing remotely inline with my current alignment, so trying to make a quick jump to anywhere was out of the equation also.

I knew time was running out. Soon, the gate would fully have my ship resolved into real space, and I would be visible and vulnerable to the Amarr.

Shit! I thought to myself. There were no other good words to express how I felt at the certain loss of my billion isk command ship.

Well, if I was going to go, I was going to go out fighting.

I mentally picked my primary from my overview, took a deep breath, and was about to give Aura the command to engage the afterburners when something miraculous happened.

The Amarr fleet began jumping through the gate.

I  literally held my breath. I refused to move or think. I didn’t want to do anything to jinx this gift I had been given. If I was lucky beyond measure, the entire fleet would jump out before I resolved into realspace.

That wasn’t destined to happen, but what did happen was pretty damn close.

Two interceptors and a single cruiser were still on this side of the gate when I finally reverted.

They instantly targetted me.

I managed to pop the first with my artillery before he could get any speed, all the while urging Aura to align me to the nearest moon. It was time to leave.

Undoubtedly, reinforcements were on the other side of the gate, and would be more than eager to get a kill.

Long story short, we got away by the skin of our teeth. My adrenaline was pumping, and I wanted nothing more than to take a step back and relax. The Amarr wouldn’t afford me that luxury. I knew they would be scanning down the system, looking for the safespot I had bookmarked, and that my time here in Arzad would be short today.

I spent the next half hour performing my own scans, trying to locate the archeological site Nilf had sent me to.

I managed to stay ahead of the Amarr for quite some time, but came to the point where I knew I was pushing my luck.

There was no dig going on in this system. Time to head to Erstur. Damn you, Nilf.

I warped on top of the exit gate, easily breaking through the anticipated Amarr camp waiting for me there.

I quickly jumped through, pleased to see the Tribal Liberation Force reinforcements I had called in engaged with the Amarr on the other side.

I hurried on my way to Erstur.

16 JUMPS LATER … AT THE ARCHEOLOGICAL SITE IN ERSTUR

Shit… the Cartel is here, and they’re targetting the outpost. You need to act quickly. Secure the area and protect the archeologists!

Four Gistii battleships pounded at me, effectively blockading me from the outpost. Six battlecruisers joined them, leaving me no choice but to play on the defensive side.

It was very slow going, and during the entire engagement I could see frigates, cruisers, battlecruisers and battleships bombarding the outpost.

I had to get through.

Finally, I got through the hull of a battleship. This was far too slow going.

By happenstance, I scanned the outpost, only to find it was now in structure. A spike of fear surged through me.

Were they actually going to destroy it? I thought incredulously.

That is when the archeological outpost exploded, and my stomach sank. Nilf was quick to chime in.

The outpost is down. We’ve lost this battle … and the Cartel knows it. I’ve just received word from one of their commanders; the terms of agreement for an exchange. Forget the base; it’s a lost cause now, just come back to me.

Fucking hell! I cursed myself. Goddammit!

I berated myself as I set a course back to Nilf. I hated failure, especially in myself. I had entirely misread the situation at the outpost, and after the hell I had gone through to get there in the first place … dammit.

I had let the RSS down.

I had let myself down.

I had let the Republic down.

I had let those archeologists down.

We have a transmission from the Angels. Those god-damned slime-excreting vermin. I think you better get back here right now. We’re gonna need you for this next part.

Surfacing

Posted by Roc Wieler on

NILF ABRUSKUR’S RAPIER IN ALDRAT

We’ve had analysts from the Krusual and Thukker tribes going over the doucments you recovered from our agent’s private compound. They’ve made one more promising discovery so far which we want you to follow up.

Something I had learned in my experience was that the more people were involved in keeping a secret, the less likely that secret would remain such.

Too many hands were getting involved in this mix, and it made me much more cautious than I typically would’ve been. It was almost borderline paranoia and conspiracy theory; I was expecting the unexpected at every turn. It wasn’t the way I preferred to live.

As a military pilot, I was very straightforward. If you were my enemy, I’d shoot you in the face. If you weren’t, I’d fly your wing with pride.

Intelligence operatives were masters of making things overly complicated and convoluted for no other purpose than to maintain their mystifying stereotype to outsiders; and in this case anyone not part of the Intelligence Division was considered an outsider, myself included.

There was no trust, no straightforwardness. I needed to know that the person I was talking to, the person assigning me to life and death situations was trustworthy. If not, it was a fool’s errand each and every time. I would be more likely to cheat death by putting a pistol to my head and hoping for an empty round than by continually working for Republic Fleet Intelligence, at least in this “need to know” capacity.

Just the same, I would do my sworn duty. That is who I was. And that was the main differentiation between me and Nilf. If I said it, I’d do it. There was no reason to doubt.

They found a communication from our source inside the Ammatar Consultate. It seems she sent a package of information on the Wildfire Khumaak to the system of Jark for pickup not long ago. Our guess is that due to the sensitivity of the information and the amount of attention it’s attracting, our asset in the Consulate could only get it to the border, not across. This could play in our favour though. Due to its location in the San Matar constellation – the heartlands of Ammatar space – there’s a good chance our agent didn’t make it out there yet. We have to be careful where our operatives are seen sometimes.

I continued to listen to Nilf’s briefing, but at the same time I casually brought up military intelligence on the San Matar constellation. Average security status was 0.8, and it wasn’t deemed Amarr sovereignty, so I would have no outright issues with their military forces. So far, things seemed straightforward, for a change.

The drop-off location inside Jark is a complex known as Tili’s Red Light Palace.

My eyebrow shot up of its own accord. He had my full attention.

Initial Intelligence is that it’s just another merc RR dive, nothing special. Once you have arrived to the area we’ll forward the exact location of the cargo.

I had to re-read the real time transcript on a side monitor to catch up on what Nilf said. My mind was still back at Tili’s Red Light Palace.

Speaking of which, I trust I needn’t remind you how important those documents could be, or indeed, how sensitive. Proceed with caution, do not take any risks.

Sensitive. Caution. No risks. Condoms. Got it.

—

JARK SYSTEM

The Onslaught was at full crew capacity. I had never seen so many volunteers for a mission. You could smell the testosterone hanging in the air, the pheromones seeping through the air ducts.

I was thankful to be isolated in my pod; I’d wager the body odour levels were high out there as well.

Nilf commed me:

Okay, here we are. Head for the brothel complex on your right. It’s the one in the middle where you’ll find the package.

It’s an odd sensation sometimes, being a Capsuleer. With experience, you learn how to control your thoughts, how to allow Aura to differentiate between commands and random stirrings. Some pilots verbalized these commands, but that was more for their own benefit and focus than for Aura.

Unfortunately, she often read your strongest thought impulses, responding to those core instincts in each of us, ignoring surface thoughts altogether.

In this instance, even before Nilf commed me, my ship was heading towards the brothel, as soon as I saw what it was on my overview.

If my men (and women) aboard were as excited as I was, this would be a fantastic mission. I had already told them that should all go well, we might just dock up here for a day or two, taking some leave time. They deserved it. Hell, I deserved every orgasmic moment of it, though even thinking about sex was a little premature.

We were just out of range to initiate docking procedures when an unexpected comm came my way.

Well boys, looks like we got ourselves another poddie trespassin’ our domain here. Why don’t we show him what happens to uppity eggers who think they can hang with the big boys?

I could never catch a break. Did these yokels really think they could stand against a Command ship of the Tribal Liberation Force with one of the most well decorated and well respected Matar Colonels at the helm?

You would think I would’ve learned that the amount of eating your words done was inversely proportional to the amount of boasting you did ahead of time.

These guys were serious business.

Multiple Battlecruisers, several frigates, they warped in and pounded me with their initial volleys. I had to align my ship away, giving the Onslaught some distance from the Brothel; the last thing I wanted was civilian casualties and being tied publicly to this place.

A second wing warped in with triple the ships of the first. I launched my valkyrie drones, my artillery cannons straining with the exertion of overheating. I hadn’t seen this large a mercenary force in a long while.

They launched spider drones, which quickly snagged me, but I was smart and had a plan. I would micro jump back to the brothel, engaging the bigger ships that had fallen behind in distance, and at the same time putting distance between my ship and those spider drones.

Are you freaking kidding me? I thought to myself as my drones didn’t micro-jump the 300 km with me. They simply sat motionless, watching as the spider drones quickly made their way back to me and webbed me, allowing the numerous battleships I had engaged to pommel me without any drone support on my side.

I spent the next two hours barely surviving what should’ve been a routine encounter, all due to one foolish noob mistake. Let that be a lesson to all of us.

Finally, I had junked all the ships, and was trying to make my way back to my Valkyrie drones. I couldn’t target the fast-moving, hostile spider drones with my artillery, but at a current velocity of 34 m/s, there was no way I would ever get back to my drones.

Thankfully, I was smarter than drones.

I warped away, then warped back in at 100km range.

I made it about 100m before the spider drones had closed the distance and webbed me again.

Thankfully, I was smarter than drones on the second try.

I warped away, then warped back in at 0 km range, and hit my afterburner, pushing in the opposite direction away from my drones.

I made it about 100m before the spider drones had closed the distance and webbed me again.

Thankfully, I was smarter than drones on the seventh try.

I warped away, then warped back in at 100 km range, near my drones, the enemy spider drones finally out of their aggression range on the far side of the brothel.

Take that stupid drones! I mocked myself.

I scooped up my valkyries, and approached the brothel.

Using an RSS specialist that had been assigned to this mission, we managed to retrieve an encrypted transmission the RSS Ammatar spy had hidden on the brothel broadband. Even with the specialist, it was still a wholly incomprehensible string of 1s and 0s.

I bought the specialist a shuttle, and sent him on his way.

After the day we had endured, my crew and I weren’t leaving just yet.

If Nilf had issue with that, well, then it was just that much sweeter now wasn’t it.

Maintenance Program

Posted by Roc Wieler on

I don’t know if you’re like me, but being a Capsuleer, you probably are. We’re a lazy bunch, truth be told; spending far too much time immersed in our pods, keeping the fate of worlds in balance, yet at the same time, neglecting the temples that are our bodies.

I can remember being on recon missions for months at a time, stuck in the tight confines of my Rapier Blue Vein, going a bit stir crazy in all honesty, which made me all the more thankful for these workout routines.

DISCLAIMER: Always consult a physician before engaging in these exercises/nutritional recommendations. Not all capsuleers are created equal. Work to what you can, building up over time. Do not over-exert yourself to the point of feeling faint or dizzy.

Remember, you can cheat all you want; you’re only cheating yourself.

BASIC

NUTRITON

  • Drink at least 2 litres of water per day.
  • Eat a large, healthy breakfast. Eat a medium sized lunch. Eat a small dinner. Go to bed hungry.

EXERCISE – MORNING AND EVENING

  • Cardio Cleaning for 30 minutes. This is regular ship/quarter cleaning, but without any rest. (Once per day only).
  • 3 sets of 20 pushups, maximum 30 seconds rest between sets. Hands should be shoulder width apart and the middle of your hands should be equal to your nipples.
  • 3 sets of 10 body squats. A body squat consists of legs shoulder width apart, weight on your heels the entire time, back straight, arms at 90 degrees, and lower your body (again, weight on heels) as far as you can, as though sitting down. It’s important to keep your back as straight as possible. You will know if you’re not doing it right, as your lower back will start to hurt.
  • Abdominal plank. It’s the same position as a pushup, but on your elbows. Hold that position for as long as you possibly can, timing yourself. When you can no longer hold it and collapse, rest 30 seconds, then repeat, forcing yourself to meet the same amount of time as your first plank.

INTERMEDIATE

NUTRITON

  • Drink at least 2 litres of water per day.
  • Eat a large, healthy breakfast. Eat a medium sized lunch. Eat a small dinner. Go to bed hungry.
  • Start taking a good Whey Protein Isolate 30 minutes before your workout and immediately afterwards. Allmax Isoflex is a good brand. A little pricey, but hey, we’re talking about our temples here.

EXERCISE – MORNING AND EVENING

  • 45 minutes cardio cleaning. Same as Basic, but damn are things starting to look clean. (Once per day only).
  • 3 sets of 20 pushups. No more than 30 seconds rest inbetween sets. This time, alternate between regular pushups and clapping pushups, that is, clap your hands together when you push yourself up off the ground.
  • Side abdominal plank. Same as Basic, but alternate with resting all your weight on one elbow, turning your body perpendicular to the ground, extending your other hand towards the ceiling, maintaining a rigid body the entire time.
  • 3 sets of 10 body squats, same form as basic, but this time at half speed. Feel that burn.

ADVANCED

NUTRITION

  • Drink at least 2 litres of water per day.
  • Time to up things a notch. In addition to your protein supplement, start taking a non-phase loading creatine. Anything else is just pumping your muscles full of water to look big, but the day you stop taking them, you’re going to look small again. Purple K brand is excellent. Take one of these before your workout, and one after.
  • SIX meals per day. You heard me. Each meal should be 3 hours apart, and each portion shouldn’t be any bigger than what you can hold in one hand. It’s very important to start eating healthy.

EXERCISE – MORNING AND EVENING

  • 1 hour of cardio cleaning. Everything should be spotless on a daily basis at this point. (Only once per day).
  • 2 sets of EPIC FAIL. Do as many “push-off” pushups as you can. This is where you push your hands AND your feet off the ground when pushing up. Do as many of these as you can. Immediately after fail, do clapping pushups until you can’t do anymore. Immediately after fail, do regular pushups until you can’t do anymore. Immediately after fail, do girl pushups, that is, knees on the ground, until you can’t do anymore. Rest 5 minutes and repeat.
  • Abdominal Assault. Do alternating “Superman” planks, that is, in the plank position, extend one leg and the opposite arm, until fail, then switch sides. This is gonna hurt. Trust me. Hold as long as possible, matching or exceeding the second set with the first.
  • Suicide Squats. 3 sets of 20 squats, where you launch yourself as high you can into the air, extending your neck and spine, landing into a smooth squat as low as you can. Rest no more than 30 seconds inbetween sets.

And there you have it.

Keep at it; don’t be discouraged. These are just a few simple exercises I thought of off the top of my head from my many routines.

They may not all be right for you. The important things are to start eating better, get some cardio activity daily, and to push your muscles a little more each day.

If you have a desire for other exercise variations, or are limited in what you can do and need something more specialized, feel free to leave a comment in this thread, and I’ll try to help you out as best I can.

Iceland Press

Posted by Roc Wieler on

Was looking at my blog stats earlier today and noticed quite a few hits from an Icelandic website. After a little digging, and a little googling, it turns out to be a news review of Fanfest, and I’m mentioned in it. Very flattering.

I also managed to become very ill upon returning to Canada, one of my computer drive arrays failed (with no backup, d’oh!) and I lost my keys… but most of the drama has passed hopefully.

Look forward to me getting back in character soon.

ICELAND PRESSAN