– by Casparian

I had destroyed my race.

I say ” destroy ” but maybe I should be a bit clearer.Each of my brethren ,was found a new home , a home that is at a constant core temperature of absolute kelvin, a dead ice planet , a dead planet for a dead people.Now you may be thinking that this wouldnt be good for their health and that life expectancy on a ” dead ” planet at absolute kelvin is going to be pretty short, youre wrong, I know , I know ,” absolute kelvin” I hear you ask, followed by ” well they have to be dead , dont they “?

We are the Jovians.

First and foremost amongst the races.Whilst the others were grubbing in the dirt, we were colonising the stars.Even in the early days of space travel the Jovians were way ahead of the other races, for some reason space travel was like a old ability just rediscovered, even in those early days our technology was godlike.Like all people who think themselves godlike we started doing things that maybe only god was qualified to do, but hey , who was there to stop us, not god certainly.Our technology had brought us the stars and all in between them, we truly were masters of the universe and as such, arrogance was our downfall and your savior.

Honestly , we didnt set out to remake ourselves, it wasnt until the best and brightest of us was taken by lord time to their death beds that we started to consider such things.All people want to be remembered when they are gone, we just went one step further , we didnt want to ” go ” . Eternal life is a tempting mistress, we had tried to break the mystery that is time travel but whilst all the theories were solid, the results were not, all that was left if we couldnt travel time ,was to exist utill the end of time.

We started gently, changing our bodies first to further enhance our space capabilities, first of all we made ourselves so that we became part of our ship , our senses interfacing with the ship directly, our first real taste of godhood.After this we made a truly remarkable breakthrough, not only could we now interface with our ship but all technology was opened to us, we became one with the technology that set us apart, nothing was denied us, with our altered bodies and enhanced state we truly had become “gods”.

My title was “First” , simple , direct , tells you all you need to know , I was the leader of the Jovian race, as such I was the person responsible for my people’s sucess’s and failure’s . With our new godlike powers came godlike problems, as I have said before, arrogance was our downfall, but not in the way you are thinking, in our arrogance my people believed that as gods we should have races to serve us and pay homage , entertainment if you will,the only races in this universe were the ones who came with us , the dirt grubbers.You were chosen, you did not have any say , we are gods and you were just as ants to us.Youre technology had just advanced to the spaceflight era again , and already you warred on yourselves.I have to say for my part I was against this decision, you deserved your chance at godhood like the rest of us but my voice was one small drop in the ocean of arrogance, preparations were made to ” take you under our  wings  and guide you”, pathetic for a race as advanced as ours that we would use a excuse such as this to condone slavery.

As first I spent more and more time watching your races in the guise of choosing a people to own I came to the conclusion that youre barbaric, driven by hate and jealousy, greed pushes you into the stars and death follows you, it really would of been for your own good if we ruled, except in what was left of my soul I knew our excuse for slavery was wrong, we were wrong and as First it was my duty to take steps to correct that wrong.I killed my race, I killed almost every being in the Jovian race, as First I was also the most powerful of the Jovians , all it took was a thought, you may think me a monster, committer of genocide, that is true. what is also true is that for your continued existance, I killed my own race.

I am Jovian , I alone knew that nothing else would stop them, judge me as you will but do not attempt to understand me for I still am a god.The best of my race I saved , the brightest and the greatest, they fought me but I am First and would not allow them their petty revenge, each of them I overcame and put into stasis.

I have known of your peoples and their first steps into space, how could I not, you spread like germs through the air, taking over what you cannot subdue, It was myself who put into place the injunction on planetary exploration that has protected you these past millenia but now in your infinite wisdom as the new gods you are looking at planets again and you have woken the old gods, us.

I can feel my remaining brethren out in the stars, as your ships come close to their prison they are awakened by the call of your systems as was I when the first mining ship came to my prison and after all this time they are , well to put it in a way you can understand, pissed off.I am First and could still end their existance but after all this time let us see how the new gods greet the old gods, I have been alone for many many years , perhaps I am now insane but feel in the need of a little entertainment and to be honest I am still arrogant and pridefull and you are after all only grubbers in the dirt, what gave you the right to subvert our technology in such a way and to try and enslave other races, that was our downfall not yours.

Your downfall shall be US

– by Undefined Anomaly

The devastation… I wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t experienced it in person.  I still don’t understand the people in this city or how things went this far.  A few days ago, I found a journal amongst the rubble:

Entry # 1: Starting our new life…

At the town-hall meeting this afternoon, the Mayor broke the news… CONCORD lifted their restriction limiting capsuleer interference with planetary life.  At first the room was filled with silence, but quickly fell into chaos as shouts of anger filled the room.

“By what right?  Aren’t there enough resources in the belts?”

Entry # 3: Protests in the Streets

They started arriving a few days ago.  First it was just a few prospectors looking for carbon compounds.  Now, their minions are absolutely everywhere!

I took a walk into the hills this morning and everywhere I looked, there were extractors.  All you hear on the news is how non-intrusive these extractors are and that people will barely notice them… lies! Pipes from a single extractor appear to cover an entire mountainside.

– by Lhun

A young man lounges on a bed of red tendrils, slowly glowing in the night air. The stars are bright, numerous and inviting.

Asbjorn longed for the days when they were mysterious points of light that children wished on, and when a red white ball of some mighty celestial object would streak across the face of the two moons he didn’t wonder if his school’s modern history curriculum would be changing again.

At 15, the young Minmatar was coming of age. His grandmother was pushing him to “reconnect to his roots” but, like many other Thukker children, he didn’t care much for the lengthy and painful tattooing process. As soon as he was old enough to choose, the small smattering of family milestones streaked across his tanned olive skin were made possible with tiny Galentian nanomachines, genetically (and much to Asbjorn’s delight, painlessly) altering the pigment concentration of his skin into complex and artistic patterns.

It was the last night he would look at the stars with wonder and a sense of safety.

The warm, red creature below him shuddered. A silicon based “simple lifeform” the holoreel in his environmental hazards class explained. Most likely carried as cargo on Amarr transport ships, they spread across his planet rapidly. They absorb particles of carbon and silicon – extremely useful for the tiny bits of dust nanomachines and drones spew out during hull restructuring processes – keeping the people onboard from having horrible lung failures. A cheap solution for slaver transports, which would spare the expense of complex filtering systems. As for his planet’s indigenous life forms, they were mostly carbon based, and have been nearly choked out of existence when they made their way onto the surface. The rich mineral deposits proved a boon for them, and, as Asbjorn was soon to find out, others as well.

His planet was nestled in what used to be a quiet pocket of space far, far away from CONCORD and other prying eyes. His grandmother, Dagrun, would go on and on about how wonderful his parents were, and how he should aspire to be just like them. The rest of the galaxy considered them nomads – but, according to Dagrun – they were seeking a new dawn. 135 Years had passed and she was starting to show it. Born near the end of the rebellion, she had seen it all – but she seemed distracted lately. He wondered if her memory might be fading on her.

A small point of light, growing in intensity, distracted Asbjorn from his musings of family history. It appeared to be concentrated slightly above the wobbling point of light he associated with the university anchored to the largest moon. From his vantage point, it appeared to be at the very top of the large, inactive volcano that was the figurehead of this region. A great climb to a point of light he considered his hope of getting off the pile of scrap-metal and arid air his grandmother oddly clinged to. To that day, he could never understand her feverish need to own property here.

The glittering station winked out.

Streaks of red and blue and white, followed by thick, oily black smoke began to pour from the the night sky. But, this wasn’t the volcano.

A series of sudden and sharp claps, slow, at first, maybe once per second, began to roll like thunder across the field. The tendrils of his temporary bed retreated into the rock rapidly, dropping him onto his back. Asbjorn quickly stood, all his attention focused at the tip of the mountain. The station was gone, and the debris was falling towards him, growing in size. More claps. The sound was getting louder and more rapid, like the gods had pointed the wind at a bonfire, and all manner of ash and ember was rushing towards him. Screaming, somewhere behind him, being drowned out by the sound of the debris from the station breaking the sound barrier as it entered the atmosphere. The boy couldn’t dare turn away. Transfixed in horror and wonder, he stared as a sizable chunk of Caldari docking bay grew closer and closer.

“GET INSIDE, CHILD!”

Dagrun screamed to her grandson across an acre of grains but to no avail. He wasn’t moving. Soon enough, her attempts to shield him from the outside would be undone. She had been warned days previous that the invading alliance was coming to put who-knows-what matter of refinery near the volcano, the gasses trapped under the rock soon to be freed to build it’s machines of war. Her hands were behind her back, her fingertips brushing the cold metal edge of last connective implant on her spine. Memories of the attack on the Hurricane she piloted flashing through her mind, her own children screaming through the coms for her to eject the tiny emergency vessels to save them and members of their crew. They fell on deaf ears. She had given up. Being chased relentlessly had worn her thin, and even as she operated a ship full of hundreds of lives, her only thought was of the station which housed her clone. Would it still be there? Or would she end up somewhere in Matar, an emergency information transfer because the station she once called home was blasted to dust.

Her fate, it seemed, was not to die so soon. The trajectory systems on her capsule failed, and, blasted towards the surface of the planet, she waited for death. It seems that capsules, however, are much tougher then they seem to be when blasted with the most powerful of lasers in the known universe. Unscathed, she emerged in a sea of fire and rubble, disconnected from the datastream. Several ruined escape vessels surrounded her, many destroyed on impact. One housed her eldest son’s infant child. Too young to be cloned, born in the traditional way – this was a life that would be over soon if she didn’t protect it. That moment changed Dagrun’s outlook on everything.

The scene about to play out was not unlike the one 15 years ago. A rebirth in flame. As the huge bits of station crashed to earth Asbjorn was shook to the ground. One last rumble and everything would be silent, forever.

The crash of the station bulkhead had taken it’s toll on the young boys fragile eardrums. Blood poured down the sides of his face, making a sick red line along his angular jaw. The pain was insane. He might have been screaming. He felt himself being lifted by a harvester drone and rapidly driven to the small, round home across the wheat field which was now burning. The night sky was streaked with orange, purple and white light: they were the capitol laser cannons finding their marks, oblivious to the inhumane scene below.

Asbjorn awoke with Dagrun rushing around the small, stainless steel room that housed the remains of the former capsuleer’s pod. A row of containers with tiny labels was along the northern wall, behind a thick glass plate. Some containing liquids, others with the fine powder of refined minerals. Dagrun’s facial expressions changed from one moment to the next, her mouth moving silently. The only sound he could hear was a screeching ringing in his head. His arms were bound to a soft bed, where he could see a tiny trail of blood droplets leading to his head. “Oh fuck, what happened…” His thoughts trailed off as the tiny machine beside him clicked, and a small amount of what he could only imagine was a illegal drug pumped into his veins. “White.”, he thought, “everything is white.”

Dagrun rushed about, gathering tiny vials of nanomachines. All the ones used to heal flesh were long gone. The best she could hope for was some sort of implant. Her hands brushed across a tiny deepspace FTL communications implant. This was the beta of the one currently feeding her information about the southern alliance’s push against her planet in the north. Her gnarled hand picked it up, rolling it gently in her palm.

“Stupid child.” She muttered. The truth was, the child was brilliant, but with no sense of self-preservation. ‘Makes sense’ she thought, just like me. When death only means that you have to towel yourself off and hop in another pod, the part of you that feels finite all but disappears. Dagrun’s grand plan for her young charge’s future was falling apart. Re-connecting to the global community was a tough decision, but if she was going to raise the ISK to put Asbjorn on the path to immortality she had to let someone friendly know about her discovery. Far more valuable then the well known gas deposits on the planet were the minerals tucked just under the soft clay surface of her farm. All she had to do was charge her pod, and send a short message to someone of diplomatic importance and tell them of her discovery. She only hoped she wasn’t too late.

Watching the interstellar news network for the first time in 15 years was jarring. Her implants and skills were now out of date – she couldn’t fly anything better then a frigate, even if she could somehow afford one, and her drone interfacing was far too dated to operate the complex machines of the war. Her body was frail and weak – no tiny nanomachines to keep her beautiful and healthy. It was far too late anyway. She set the EMD drones to work on Asborn’s head and back, building interfacing for implants, making him, at least in body, more like the people she had grown to loathe.

While the drones did the work, she put all her efforts into cutting a deal with the beautiful Gallentien fellow from across the stars.

“War has broken out between the two factions in the pure blind regions…”**STATIC**

“Both sides are reporting heavy capital lossesQUAFE. YOU NEED IT, YOU WANT IT. IN THE WAR AGAINST THIRST THERE CAN ONLY BE ONE VICTOR.”

“Tritanium 1.3456billion, Mexal…’And then the Amarr Priest says… CHECK UNDER MY ROBE!’ (Roaring laughter)”**STATIC**

A sound like machines scraping against each other combined with a horrible, ominous buzzing sound filled Asbjorn’s head. A feeling of dread crept over him, a sense that millions of … something… working together… were trying to get inside his head. A vision of a orange white… hole… appeared before him, with tiny red lights peeking out. Abruptly it faded, and the silvery metal of the small room came into view. Every hair on his body stood on end.

“I’m sorry, it’s going to take a while to adjust the communications channels to the ones you’ll need. The data stream has grown far too complex for the tiny photon co-processor I was forced to use in that implant to handle. We’ll upgrade it soon… i hope” The voice was familiar, but carried a distortion like a digital feed that had too much compression, or when one of his holoreels after it had been banged around in his bag a little too much. It was only when she turned around and began speaking again that Asbjorn realized it was his grandmother.

“I had to replace your inner ear with a acoustics simulator. It’s the kind used in Minmatar battleships. It can ‘Hear’ things which would normally be silent in space…” Dagrun trailed off, small puddles of tears forming under her eyes; “Oh my child; I’m so sorry. No one expected this so soon” She held his hands and began explaining that there had been a discovery of gasses at the base of the volcano. Concord lifted the ban on capuleers to industrialize colonies on worlds, The pod pilots we vying for the planet’s resources and fighting it out in space – Asbjorn soon realized that his grandmother was not getting slower over the last few years… she was DISTRACTED.

“What they don’t realize is that I’ve discovered something far more valuable then they realize, and only I have the locations. But… since we’re not officially part of the colony here, finding someone to buy the information has been… Difficult. I wanted to use the money to send you away from here, away from the war.” Dagrun’s eyes quickly darted to the jars of material locked away in the cabinet on the wall.

“It’s time you made your own fate – I told you to go through the rituals and become a man but you-” The frail old lady was interrupted suddenly. Her eyes darted back and forth at something beyond Asbjorn perception… Her spine stiffened and she gripped his hands ever tighter. A buzzing sound of crosstalk crept it’s way into his mind, tiny chunks of syllables in a language he didn’t understand like a whispering in the centre of his head.

“You’ll want to see this.” She said finally. “Come outside”

The farmer drones were busy picking up chunks of metal debris and dropping them into a container. As the metal hit the bottom, tiny nanomachines would break them down to their atomic basics and were starting to stack them side by side in bars of refined materials.

“What are you building?” Asbjorn asked – still jarred by the sound of his own voice

“Not building, child, repairing” she offered, her distraction was obvious.

As they rounded the side of the house, the young Minmatar stopped dead, mouth agape, at the sight before him.

A enormous blue-steel object, was slowly lowering itself to the surface. Swarms of something… trailing blue flame zipped around the structure. A static buzzing crept into Asbjorn’s head again, not unlike the frightening one hours before… but this one seemed… controlled, subdued.

“What is that sound…” he asked… almost a whisper, under his breath.

“Drones. Hundreds of builder drones”.

Dagrun’s voice jarred Asbjorn out of his shocked stupor. His technology classes explained in great detail the absolutely staggering technology involved in building ONE drone, and was clear to point out that the costs associated with building even one drone was impossible to all but the elite. And there were hundreds of them. Right in front of him.

The thought was cut short as the launching pad collided with the surface of the small planet. The vibrations seemed small at first… but then… something larger roared from beneath their feet. Something uncontrolled. Primal.

The first dark wisps of smoke appeared at the edge of the volcano. They had disturbed it.

“I would never have put that there. Not in a million years.” Dagrun said, almost chuckling, a thin smile on her lips.

Over the following months their plan was laid out. Asbjorn learned about interstellar transport, communications, learning things faster then he ever thought possible. Trade, spaceship command… All the while wondering why he had been denied access to this information before.

Dagrun’s cache of skill manuals was quickly being consumed. Things she had planned for herself that she could no longer use that somehow survived the crash. If Asbjorn knew the value of these books he would likely go wild with greed – Dagrun realized long ago, however, that giving her grandson a chance to live forever was beyond value. Slowly, Asbjorn began to realize the scale of his grandmother’s knowledge, and a deepening respect began to form.

They laid out a plan to get Asbjorn on-board a returning rocket with the first load of material – starting with a job at Lai Dai Cooperation.

Eyjafjallajokull shuddered and burst, throwing smoke far into the sky. Lightning streaked across it’s anvilhead, and thick ash rained down on the new colony below. The forcefields surrounding it glowed a hazy blue every time a dust cloud was blown across it’s surface.

“This is going to hold us up at least a week” Aivira Ogimo said coldly, tapping the metal casing of the implant on the side of her head.

She was not one for appearances. The Caldari woman had opted for expensive implantation in her early years as a pod pilot but couldn’t afford the cosmetics to hide their obvious locations. As she worked her way to production manager in the early days of Lai Dai Cooperation her rough exterior and no-nonsense attitude was further bolstered by her frightening visage. They became her trademark, she couldn’t remove them now.

The new colony at the base of the now erupting volcano was bustling with activity. Workers walking in organized lines down to bunkers to sleep for the night under the watchful guard of the military that followed them everywhere.

“Some locals are trying to join the company, they want access” Her secretary said offhandedly. “Others are warning about the fury of their gods” She giggled. “They say the volcano is a sign that we shouldn’t be here.”

“Whatever.” Aivira remarked coldly. “The original plan was to scorch the people down below. Mostly lost dirty Thukker tribesmen and some Amarr defectors seeking to be free from the empire. I’m not even sure how they got here, they’re not on any official colonization lists that I have access to.”

“You know doing that would have been horrible for diplomatic relations…” The secretary seemed jarred by Aivira’s inhumanity.

“CONCORD does not see much that happens here. Besides, we thought they were Blood Raiders. No matter. Let them in, but offer them HALF what we pay the tube children. Soak the costs in housing, demand that they live in the colony. It’ll cheapen production costs.” Aivira waved her subordinate away with a flick of her wrist, while simultaneously opening eight huge holoreel projections hovering above her glass desk. The image of a military production station rotated slowly, anchored to the first moon of the planet.

Asbjorn felt sick with confusion. The skills to control things he had never seen before felt slotted into his head. Like on the top shelf of an impossibly high cupboard. They were there, and he could access them, but how did he get up there? They didn’t belong. They didn’t make sense. HUNDREDS of camera drones? What exactly is a Jump Drive?! Dagrun knew that cramming the skills into her grandson’s head out of order might be hard on him, but it was all she had. She hoped that she had chosen the correct ones.

Protesters lined the outside of the entrance to the central hub. Many wore masks over their faces to guard against the ashes from the volcano. Red carbon eaters were pulsing rapidly – their tendrils reaching towards the volcano hoping to catch bits of dust raining down on them. They looked hungry.

Asbjorn had a small text window in front of his field vision only he could see now. A gift from grandmother… A way to communicate once he was inside the complex. A small group of Minmatar youth was camped off to his left watching and commenting on the people signing up to join the Caldari.

‘Oh no…’ Asbjorn thought as he passed by. ‘they’re in my class.’

“Hey Thukker!” a heavyset tattooed boy shouted. “What are you doing?! They’ll work you to death, and you’re going to piss the ‘cano off. Better to stay out ‘ere, don’t you think?” He seemed angry.

“Where’s your ‘Matar pride?!” Another scoffed, as he picked up a chunk of scrap metal.

–A gray overview snapped into place-

The chunk of metal flew towards Asbjorn. In one swift motion he grabbed the heavy chunk of bulkhead, using it’s momentum, spun and flung it back at the boy. It collided with his chest flatly.

–The trajectory and speed of the hunk of metal was reported in his field of view-

His new implant could hear a wet thudding with the sound of a rib cracking in more then one place.

“SHIT!!” The first boy shouted.

Asbjorn ran quickly while the youth tended to their fallen friend to the line of people signing up to join the mining operations, shoving several out of the way in the process. He thought the text: “What did you do to me?!” into the console, to which Dagrun replied: “Your perception and awareness has been increased tenfold. You’ll need it where you’re going”

Dagrun felt out of place with most of the damaged pod’s connections in place, but without the warm fluid surrounding her. She had placed a simple wooden stool in the middle of it’s open face: A interesting contrast to the hyper-advanced system she was accessing. The deal with Megnyve Charis was done. Get the materials locations and blueprints she had created in her long stay on the planet, and her Grandson would be guaranteed entry into The Republic University with a transfer to the University of Caille and safe passage into empire. It was up to Asbjorn now. Locked away inside his head was everything he needed.

Asbjorn quickly found his way into a job in the the chemical reactions department of the Caldari hub. With his new skills and new Caldari Citizenship he was soon free to wander the departments as he wanted.

It almost felt good to belong to something, but every time he looked at himself in a mirror he was reminded of the boy he hurt outside. The stars no longer gave him comfort, just cold fear. The smoke from the factory and the volcano was starting to take it’s tole on the environment outside, the stars were harder to see and the trees were withering. A thin line of lava now snaked down the volcano, towards the launch hub. The workers whispered about how long Aivira would keep production going.

Dagrun 0:23>“I need you to find out the launch date”

The private chat window suddenly snapped into view.

Asbjorn 0:23>“Grandmother! I was beginning to worry!”

Dagrun 0:24>”Don’t worry about me. Listen, the R&D department should have codebreaker modals in storage. They use them to reverse engineer some… things. I need you to grab one and see if you can discover the first rocket date.”

Asbjorn 0:25>“I’ll try.” Asbjorn closed the window, and headed to the corporate hanger array.

There were two rough Caldari Navy Midshipmen standing outside the hanger doors. They were talking in hushed tones about someone named Fatal.

“What are your orders here?” One barked at Asbjorn.

“Research on drone propulsion chemicals” He lied.

“You’re a bit young aren’t you?” The solder poked Asbjorn in the chest with the butt of his rifle.

“Graduated at the top of my class!” He lied again.

“You’re Minmatar too. I don’t know…”

The private chat window blinked feverishly at the bottom of Asbjorn’s field of vision.

Megnyve>“TELL THEM YOU OVERHEARD THEM TALKING ABOUT FATAL.”

Asbjorn didn’t have time to ask Dagrun who Megnyve was.

“Listen, let me in and I won’t tell Aivira Ogimo you guys were talking about Fatal” he said in the toughest voice he could muster. Even at 15 years of age, his Minmatar heritage granted him a measure of height over the burly soldiers.

The second officer grabbed the first by the belt and pulled him off into the corner.

Even though the two were whispering, Dagrun’s implant heard everything:

“If the Rabbit finds out about this we’re dead. Worse, he’ll lock us up on a rock somewhere in deadspace forever. Do you wanna end up in a bloodsport arena? Let the fucking twerp through”

“Five minutes!” The second officer barked.

Asbjorn nodded and ducked in.

—

Asbjorn 2:54> TWO HOURS

Dagrun 2:54> What?!

Asbjorn 2:55> They launch in two hours. The volcano is predicted to explode in three. They don’t care about the people below, they’re going to leave the station here and bring down the shields.

Dagrun 2:56> you have to get out of there. Find a way onto the rocket.

Asbjorn 2:57> I can’t leave all these people! They’re innocent! What about you??

Dagrun 2:57> There’s no way to save us.

Rage boiled inside the young tribesmen. He punched the screen, his fist harmlessly passing through the holographic projection in front of him. The projection winked out for a second before flickering back into view showing a rapidly declining rocket countdown. ‘There has to be something else here’ he thought.

Asbjorn flicked through station logs, corporate wallets. Billions of isk moving from place to place. Corporation hangers… “Wait… What is that?” Nestled in a hanger marked “READ ONLY” was something called “Aivira Ogimo’s Rhea” A statistics readout popped up beside entry along with a progress bar indicating “pilot requirements met”. Whatever it was, it was big, and important, and new. ‘They wouldn’t leave something like this behind’.

He ran towards the hanger.

So early in the morning, most of the colony was sleeping. Asbjorn ran from hallway to lift to hallway, heading towards the corporation hanger array. The young man’s mind was swimming with fear and anger.

Strangely, the two navy midshipmen were nowhere to be found, when he reached the locked gateway. Fighting to pull his codebreaker module out of his white labcoat pocket he punched code after code into the gateway. With a snapping series of clicks, the doors opened, and he saw something he’ll never forget.

Huge

was the only word to describe the Jump Freighter hovering over the repair platform. The ship was so large he couldn’t see the end of it in his field of vision. The ship seemed to warp around the curvature of the planet closing at a point some hundreds of metres away. Shaped like a giant slab, tiny armor repair drones buzzed and walked all over the surface of the freighter, preparing it for launch.

Asbjorn 3:30> What do I do?

The person who responded was not who he expected.

Megnyve 3:31> Look to your left. There should be a row of doors.

Asbjorn heard voices from the hallway. He didn’t stop to think, rushing along the gangplank a series of white metal doors marked with hanger numbers came into view. One was lit. He rushed to it and it opened automatically. He ducked inside and was grabbed by the metal hands of a preparation drone.

Aivira Ogimo walked swiftly to the hanger. If she was going to get the first shipment on time she had to get into space now. Her secretary followed close behind, flipping through space bookmarks and plotting routes to the proper orbit to pickup the materials can, all the while uploading them to the Rhea’s computer as vouchers.

“And what about the colony?” she curtly asked.

“I’ve received intel that we’ve been compromised by Guristas pirates. I’ll use them as a scapegoat when the hub goes critical. Everyone will blame the pirates and we’ll come back later to mop up.” Aivira rushed to the undock platform and reached her hanger bay.

The light on the rhea’s pod access door was red and flashing.

Aivira’s face flushed red with anger and fear. “What the fuck is going on?! Get this fixed. NOW!”

Asbjorn struggled slightly confined in the tight connection port implantation chamber. The tiny nanomachines had bored holes into his nervous system and was putting the finishing touches on the series of plugs in his back. With a short buzz, the straps holding him to the table lifted, and pushed him out into plain blue steel room. Before him was a platform, surrounded with a pod. It looked exactly like the one in Dagrun’s room. Realization swept over him.

A pod blasted out of the array and into the waiting port of the Rhea. Systems information flashed before his eyes. There was a jump drive on this thing. He somehow knew what that meant.

Someone had tipped the colonists off. A growing group of angry people were outside the station doors being held back by a larger group of Caldari Solders. Asbjorn could hear them shouting. He could “feel” the drones walking about the surface of the Rhea. He felt like a giant… but he couldn’t understand half of what he was controlling. Bays would open and close randomly. A warm, mechnical female voice spoke to him softly. “There is not enough power” “There is already something in that location” Asbjorn was frustrated.

“Ow!” A tiny prick, like a beesting struck Asbjorn somewhere… below. The soldiers were firing warning shots. The crowd below was getting rowdy. “OPEN THE CARGO HOLD. LET US GET OUT WITH YOU!” a man was shouting. “HAVE SOME COMPASSION!” A woman shreaked. Asbjorn could see almost everywhere at once. Camera drones.

Asbjorn grouped a bunch of the tiny drones together, and, with a thought, swept them into the soldiers as fast as they could go. The drones smashed into their bodies, flinging them like a great hand sweeping away ants. The power was sickening. Every now and then a drone would break on someone’s helmet, against his chest, or against a wall, leaving a still image of a face in horror before the image winked out. Terrified, groups of colonists huddled together. His communications window flashed. Rows and rows of data were flying into Asbjorns head. Concentrating, he managed to make out a few lines.

Corporation:

Aivira O> Someone is in my Rhea. What kind of sick joke are you trying to play?!

Raustilo Nesenoilen> No indication of fowl play yet, it was someone belonging to the caldari state. Whoever it is will have to undock and get into space before we can deal with them. The callsign is coming up garbled. Something’s weird with his implants.

Local:

Rustbucket> There’s about 40 Dread Guristas battleships two jumps out, you guys might wanna get safe.

Private Chat – Dagrun, Megnyve:

Megnyve> I’m not sure how he’s inside the JF, but he is.

Dagrun> Asbjorn! IF YOU CAN READ THIS, FEEL FOR THE CARGO BAY. GRAB THE CIVILIANS!

Asbjorn concentrated. Cargo. Cargo. Cargo. He could feel the hot station air wafting into an empty … stomach. There was no other way to describe it.

The colonists began you shout “It’s opening!” Asbjorn could feel the feet of hundreds of people filling the cargo hold of the mighty jump freighter.

3, 2, 1… LAUNCH. The entire station shook down to it’s foundation. Aivira found herself on the floor of the gangplank, climbing to the first lit pod bay. Behind it was a Caldari Shuttle, and salvation.

A rocket lifted itself over the station and out of sight, a trail of spent fuel in it’s wake. The sun was raising to shine down on planet, rays of light peeking through the smoke of the rumbling volcano.

Asbjorn could hear the fear of the people inside the ship. They were running to stations now, peering out windows, running to observation decks. “Time to go!” Was the frantic thought in his head.

The ship groaned and didn’t move.

Asbjorn> What do I do!?

Dagrun> He can’t fly the ship! He’s never been in a pod before! You’re going to get him killed Megnyve!

Megnyve> You’re the one who said he was ready! What kind of pilot are you, anyway Asbjorn?

Asbjorn> I’m NO KIND OF PILOT. I’m not even sure what you mean!

Dagrun> Child. There is one thing on that Freighter you can operate. You’re running out of time. Hit the jump drive and set it to a random location nearby. The university’s pilots will pick you up when you’re safe.

Asbjorn> The volcano is erupting. You’re going to die.

Dagrun> We all die.

Dagrun sighed and slumped over her stool. The drones were buzzing away on her pod but were only 1/3 of the way completed. She wondered what parts worked and what didn’t. The debris was a lucky find for the old pilot’s drones, but too little too late. There was still a huge hole in the outer structures, and even if that was fixed, she had no fluid. With no clone and no way to get off the planet, this death would be final.

Dagrun turned her attention to her grandson and the hundreds of innocent people in it’s hold. At least she could save them.

Dagrun> Turn on the jump drive. Go.

Asbjorn> Where will I end up?

Dagrun> Far away from here. It’ll be safer, I hope. The communications systems will still work once you’re out there, but you have to go fast.

Asbjorn, timidly felt in his mind for the “switch”. The stars laid out before him, in glorious detail. Planets wizzed around them. Jump gates blinked and were marked clearly. Overwhelmed, the student pressed a random spot in space and closed his eyes.

1111111010101001000000000000000000000111111111111111111111111111111111111111111!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The screaming sound of thousands of drones turn their attention to the huge object occupying their space. Asbjorn opens his eyes. The roar of his engines nearly deafens him, and the screeching of drones is blasting in his ears. He can hear the people on the observation decks screaming. “Rogues! WHAT IS SHE DOING?!

‘they must still think I’m Avira’

Red flashes fill his field of vision. ‘I’ve heard this sound before’

Bits of the station hanger float about in space with the Rhea, along with the bodies of several soldiers. The jump drive took bits of the things around him with him

Doing the only thing he knew how, he pressed the button in his mind again, picked a random location in space, and closed his eyes.

Without anyone on deck to operate it the Hub’s protective field falters and drops. The seismic disruptions from the launch and a jump drive going off next door pushed the volcano over the edge. Great plumes of lava rain down on the station, it’s reactors heating to supercritical levels.

Dagrun stands outside her home, watching as the building in the distance takes the full force of the planet’s fury. Her small army of drones carry on working on the ruined pod. Tiny bursts of light begin to appear at the refinery’s upper decks, and, with a crack, the structure explodes. Radiation and heat wash over the planes.

Inside the ruined pod, a red light flashes towards Dagrun as the shockwave crushes everyone, and everything in it’s path.

Asbjorn opens his eyes. He’s being toed into a station. The trauma of the day must have caused him to black out. There are ships everywhere. A sign reads “Welcome to Jita”. Hundreds of people inside the damaged Rhea are cheering.

Somewhere in Matar a beautiful woman opens her eyes. Pain, searing pain in the back of her skull. Wet, naked… a woman in a labcoat is here and tapping a clipboard.

“What… Wait…”

“Dagrun Thukker. I’ve taken the liberty of following your training program to it’s completion since you fell off the grid. I have a list of the completed skills. I’ve upgraded your clone over the years. I’m not sure what the Republic had you doing, but the previous model was lost. I only got enough information to transfer your thoughts, not your current appearance, So I had to go with old data and even that seems to be somewhat incomplete. The data was all garbled. I’m not sure I understand why “Farming drone operations” Is in here, but no matter. There’s a fully fitted Reaper in the hanger array. Enjoy your afterlife.”

– by Gigaer

Some people say I live in the middle of nowhere. I told them I’ve been to nowhere and it’s a lot more interesting than the planet I come from. The planet my family and I live on is in a place nullsec. I heard some barge captain say that once. Providence was also a term he dropped. I have no idea what any of it means. All I know is that we never got many visitors from the core regions. We’re just a farming planet, after all.

That was then. This is now.

Now, instead of hooded Amarr slavers dropping off copies of the Pax Amarria as well as leaving us only a small ration of our output (and sometimes taking some of us to be sold into slavery), we have Minmatar freedom fighters dropping off refugees and ex-slaves by the ship-load to be put to work. I always thought all pod-pilots were alike. I never cared one way or another who they fought for.

That was then. This is now.

They leave us mostly to ourselves. They request what they need and actually pay us for it. We now have the ability to barter with other planets and in other systems with what surplus we have. With all this extra manpower, we can even harvest more of this world’s natural resources like ores and gases. These poor people brought to this place have been given the chance to lead honest and free lives and they’re putting their blood, sweat and tears into it. Our villages are turning into towns and our towns are almost passing as cities.

We have a little piece of paradise down here. Wide fields of grain and clear blue skies. We’re mostly Gallente down here but the Minmatar population seems to be fitting in well. Not so much a culture clash as it is an exchange. We’re learning from each other. You see new moms at the parks watching over Matari kids just as much as Gallente. Gallente men sharing pints of homemade brew on the porch with Minmatar neighbors while their wifes gossip in the living room. We build roads, we build schools, we build homes, we build lives… together.

The pod-pilots up there can take whatever they want, but what they’ve given us is life. They give us their broken, and we teach them what it is to be whole again. Up there it’s dark and cold and deadly, while down here it’s warm and bright and alive. Up there you can’t hear the screams of the dying, and down here the sounds of laughter and music are deafening.

Immortality be damned, we’re happy. We’re just a farming planet, after all.

– by DOC Minor

Excerpt from the Audio Journal of Farakeen Don, rebel leader, Rens VI
Exhibit c1, translated by DOC Minor, requested by Vengendolf Emblard

Audio Journal entry 103.32.1

My mother always told me to worship the ground and fear the sky.
I never really understood her. The transport that we use to ship grain from our farm to the city is an airship. I was even promised to fly it once I got old enough. Even she flew in it without fear. But at night, a finger would point to the stars after a few glasses of mead and warn us all: fear the sky.
We thought it was funny.

And then they came.

My brother and I were playing a game of Cist, when we heard a massive explosion. The game itself is pretty noisy with explosions and gunfire coming from the visual prompter. Mom hates the game. Dagmar was getting his butt kicked, and, just as I launched the final missile to destroy his ship, a premature explosion rumbled the house. It was like thunder that came from all directions. We dropped our controllers and ran outside where the skies are normally a blue-green haze with clouds as white as pearls. But now, the sky was covered in a dark shadow. We had never seen anything like it. As we gazed, our jaws dropped as we saw a massive ship envelop the horizon, blocking our life-giving star. We hopped on our rovers, and hit throttles full steam to try and get a closer look.

I just landed close to a mountain. I have no idea where I am. I had to stay inside the cloud to avoid being caught. That was a while ago. I think I’m 4 hours in distance – cloud speed- from the farm.
Hungry too.
So, just to keep a record of things, this is what happened:
Just as we were being put back in our cage of a camp, I noticed the guard in charge of the gate was drunk. He had a bottle of spiced wine on his desk in the guardhouse. There was some sort of tournament on his teleprompt, and, since their celebration, the guards have had more free time I guess. Anyway, he didn’t lock the gate. I didn’t even need to use the tunnel. I waited until he passed out, and quietly got to the air transport. As soon as I ignited, he came out to see, and set the alarms just as I flew away. Within minutes, they were trailing me. But they don’t know this planet the way I know it, so in a cloud I ducked. And now, I have no idea where I am. Who cares?! Now I can search for mom and Dag. But I have no idea where to begin.
Damn the Brutor Tribe.

{years worth of entries to follow-but this gives the reasoning for the rebel leader’s actions-and hatred-to our tribe}

– by Vincent Ikari

A young woman sits beneath the trees in a twilight shade, the water about her bare feet is warm with the pleasant heat of the rainforest, small creatures dart between the puddles, eagerly snatching up the bread that falls from her hands before hurrying back into the safety of the dark tree roots, their glowing eyes might seem frightening to someone who’d never seen them before. The girl smiles, watching two of the furry critters wrestling over a large piece of bread that was soaked in the warm water near her feet, she wore faded overalls that were at least two sizes too big, the logo stamped across its back had long since rubbed off. It was a scene of blissful tranquility, she remembered playing here as a child, back when life was simple, back when Gods were just something you prayed to when the teachers told you, and never quite believed in.

Soon the air grew denser, a low hum resonates through the trees and the ground began to rumble, the woodland creatures fled into their holes in terror, soon the humming turned to a violent blast of unending heat and furious noise, the girl sighs and turns her eyes skyward while donning the ear protectors slung around her neck as several hundred million tons of metal thundered overhead, the trees thrashed as though they would fall but soon the noise was gone, replaced by a crackling voice.

“First freighter of the day Anni, get your ass back here already, breaks over”

She sighs again, turning to the edge of the forest and gazing down into the landing fields, burnt into the heart of the woodland by the new settlers two summers back, with the Charon class freighter high overhead, a great streak across the sky behind marked its passage, unloading craft already heading up towards it as though on intercept course. Even here, several miles away, she could smell the sickly scent of oil and fuel, boiling water, the smell of progress she remembered her old boyfriend remarking when the corporation had first arrived, a month before he was burnt to death by an exploding fuel silo. She wondered if he’d take those words back if he were alive now, somehow she thought he would.

Higher above the Charon still, you could see the orbiting fleet, they looked like a tightly packed formation of stars from down here, she wondered how many shooting stars she’d wished on from this very spot years ago were simply spaceships too. Anni took a deep breath, leaving her childhood self behind in the forest to begin the trek back to the landing fields, she thought about how the world had changed since the coming of these people from beyond the stars, of course she’d heard the stories, spacefaring nations, immortal heroes, incredible wealth and fame, famous and infamous characters alike, but it had all seemed to surreal, so far away, it wasnt real, it couldnt be. But then they’d come, she remembered standing behind her parents in awe with eyes wide as the first ships made landfall, she remembered the bottle of drink given to her by a smiling pilot, though she’d long since forgotten the name, Quafe perhaps, she remembered the promises of
medical and industrial progression far beyond the relatively primitive facilites that existed before, of course the government had signed on the dotted line eagerly, letting their irreplacable rainforests be burnt away for landing fields, their children hired into dangerous and low paid jobs and their folklore and history replaced with faceless corporate adverts and institutes.

It wasnt as bad now as it was, at least, eventually people had enough and there was revolution, unfortunate that a desire for free will was not the ideal weapon to use against soldiers and spaceships, and both her parents had been killed in the fights, the fires burnt for days, napalm torpedoes delivered by stars high in the night sky had sent entire cities to hell in horrific firestorm, it must have been the shortest war in history, and it was a time everyone would rather forget. Though it got worse before it got better, for Anni.
The battles hadnt been entirely one sided however, and angry soldiers hungry for vengeance for their fallen comrades fell upon the ravaged cities like a pack of wild wolves, she spent what felt like weeks in a cold cell after having been dragged from the wreckage of her home, naked and screaming tears for her lost family. When they eventually let her out, it seemed like a different world, the cities were gone, paved over
and replaced with efficient pre-fab housing flown in from off-world. She guessed the rumours of a change of management high up in the corporation had actually had some effect at least, for once.

Anni found work as a dancer at the local bar, one of the few remaining buildings from the old city, it had been a poorly built place before the war, and now looked even more decrepid alongside the efficient corporate constructions. Displaying her desirable body to people who had often been aboard cramped starships for months earned a decent living, but it wasnt until she became involved with a young caldari navy officer that her less entertaining talents came to light.
She was a gifted engineer, able to fix just about anything, with a mind that instinctively knew how something should work, and why it wasn’t, she hung up her dancers bikini and joined the auxiliary engineers corp, working with the navy to repair damaged ships and modules with the occasional malfunctioning toaster, she seemed to have found her calling, oil and dirt, just another day on the job. Not that much different from dancing you might say.

She was close to the landing fields now, the taste of fuel in her mouth snapped her from the daydreams, watching the crews scrambling about like ants, she could see the commanding officer also, clad in his pristine uniform as he directed the workers, she lowered her goggles over her sparkling blue eyes, pushing her unwashed blonde hair aside.

“Back to work”.

– by Czar Marcus

I was only fourteen the day they took my father away. Angels from the sky they were called; bringers of hope to a ravaged world in desperate need of saving.

They lied.

For hundreds of years our planet was fraught with war and strife. Brothers would kill each other over it, fathers would abandon families in search of it, and hope was forever lost because of it. What is this strange affliction that struck our planet one might ask?

Zydrine. Like the ancient blood diamonds of a lost era our planet was being driven to the brink of destruction over a simple mineral. Millions were lost due to both war and famine. The dream of making a quick fortune if one could find even a fist sized nugget was enough to drive an entire population to madness.

When it became too dangerous for even Concord to keep the peace it was determined that these “Angels” would be allowed to descend upon our world to restore order. To reward them for their aid it was determined that they would be able to mine for that rarest of minerals. It was a win-win for both Concord and our government. Concord was finally free to leave our world and the capsuleers promised our nation peace.

We would have been better off dead. These “Angels” showed their true colors as nothing, but demons.

It started off with a smile and ended with a massacre. The first act of this new era was complete dissolution of our government. It was for our own good they said, to protect the people. What government could be allowed to remain if they had failed to prevent war? The officials that dared protest were executed.

Then they came from the sky in their ships en-masse. At first it was a simple message urging our people to cooperate during this tough time, with the promise that things would get better. We saw propaganda on our screens day and night. It showed happy families living in peace. A loving father greeted his children, a happy child going off to school instead of wondering where his next meal would come from, and it ended with a message, “Cooperate and this can all be yours too!” What they forgot to mention was that cooperation meant slavery and resistance meant death.

At first there were a few cities that attempted to raise arms against our so-called saviors. They were quickly made examples of. A meager rebellion amounting to nothing more than a few laser pistols and hope was put down by a torrent of hell fire from an orbiting capital ship.

What happened next was worse. They came for us during the night. Anyone that spoke ill of the mine was grabbed in their sleep and forced to work in it. Children never saw their fathers again and sometimes even the children were taken. High walls and force fields prevented anyone from seeing what happened, but they could not prevent the screams from telling us.

Those that were lucky enough to volunteer to work the mines weren’t much better off. They weren’t beaten to death, but they were given barely enough food and water to survive. We were considered an expendable resource. Medical care was almost non-existent. The lucky ones were told they might live to see 30, but what did they care about us? They were the immortals for who time no longer held meaning.

I am now barely fifteen and learned that tonight they would take me to work in the mines for my inquiries on the whereabouts of my father.

I have nothing left that they can take from me except my life and I’ve chosen they can’t have it. I was hoping to end my life as an old man recounting my cheery youth. It seems a far cry from the pistol I now have in my hands. In one final act of rebellion I’ve placed this note on an old probe and sent it deep into space.

If you’re reading this, I’m already dead, but there are still others like me. Please help us.

– The boy that just wasn’t strong enough.

– by II sentinal

I thought I had found the right place for the next cryogenic sleep after almost being found in the worm hole continuum what a wonderful place it had been, set all my equipment up and since the last reanimation been able to ensure my secret stays that, just a whisper, a story, as I begin to pack my complex banks of equipment and materials necessary to sustain my cryogenic sleep and guard my story, my thoughts wonder back, as my systems stared to establish navcom quadratures so I can move, does anyone remember who I am what I did and was, if I am found will they leave me alone, they said I could never experience the wonders of the spenders we created, I warned them it could all go away, they couldn’t foresee it, I tried, they wouldn’t listen, so I faked my termination, and slipped away…but did I,

In the beginning, there was a small consul of people from many diverse cultures who initially helped to develop the pacts which would divide and bring the “EDEN”/ eve universe together, the place of peace, as the jump bridges and star gates via the black whole which made Eden the place to go began to thrive, the ships, the equipment the food, medicines, animals, power cores, everything about Eden did become eve, the heated battles of what voice to use for eve, what culture, what language, what gender, would be the spokes person of information , notifications, direction, interface with all the nationalities within the eve universe, the few, maybe now know as elders, made many pacts, developed so many iconic ideas, which would make the programs, developers and codes, work to grow each and every corporation, clan, group, entity item and capsular in eve as a universe under the idea and thought of a time long pasted known as the new beginning a place of peace. NEW EDEN

Then the shock and disaster of everyone’s link back to what or where they had come from gone, in the blink of a eye, flip of a switch, neutralization of a particle. It was all gone, what followed had not been thought of , developed, agreed, coded, by some, but foreseen by others.

One of those, who because of their work, which was so deeply involved in project EDEN, since the very beginning, even before the actually move into the eve universe was authorized by the inter-galactic consuls, their work as The Representative from the planetary bodies known as earth, based from underground complex’s of containment units and ground units systems know as Alabama, the lead consul and emissary for the group via the NASA program, his work so well guarded and kept uber secret, his involvement only being know by those with read into clearances, upon his faked termination, a ship was commission and named after him, the frigate class being at the time of commission so complex that very few pilots could fly it and or use it.

A pact that was made by these forebears of EDEN who did not know that the termination was in-fact faked and although his name was lost, if they knew of it or him, the trail would end, until he was found by any of those like him who foreseen disaster coming or he came out from his hiding on the other side himself back into the eve universe.

He had foreseen the possibilities of disaster, had planed and hidden into the deepest darkest edges of eve space now know as worm whole space, bring with him the technologies he had hidden from his home world frozen in cryogenic time, being re-animated by complex systems and banks of technology hidden by him personally thru complex time differentials of code and space continuum’s the systems he had developed for the eve universe substantive of life was to ensure that the continued growth of eve would never end or be destroyed.

The missing element of EDEN, NEW EDEN, EVE was only that of the “capsular” from the many deserve cultures brought together to claim their place in history, immortal yes, but able to sustain the eve systems, was and is always the unbeknown factor, hence his reanimation on periodic time fluctuations, to see if their initial works, attempted funding and communication, pacts, for the join creation of the perfect uber, secret hidden universe. New Eden

During this reanimation period he has traveled through out the new Eden systems visiting some of his old labs, complex’s, stations of development, in what is referred to as the new Eden, as wormhole space opened and has started to be explored he has moved his equipment, to safer and other complex’s not discovered or thought to exists, as he pasted through new Eden thoughts which he is sadden with, the desolation of the band of brothers an organization he helped to create, based on his young adult life teachings in the earth planet organization known as united states marines corps, his thoughts as a special envoy, pilot in the band of brothers he thoughts of those who came together in the early years of travel in Eden to form the organization and wonder what happened to or for them.

To understand that Eden is and was doing what they had hoped for, Yes it was evolving but where was it going and how long would it continue, wondering if the new development of planets would change the capsular it has been eons of lifetime’s that the capsular had understood or felt the pressures of planet life, or would the capsular evolve to create a group of New empire spaces which would try to destroy each other, let alone development of resources, products and know life forums from the planets, many of capsular nationalities had tried, via enslavement, drugs, over lords, governors, governments, rules, regulations, laws, piracy, would the capsular begin a new life type, a new nationality a new Eden,

Had it worked, does it work, that is the time continuum that could not be answered, in a controlled environment it had worked, but only due to the intervention of what was agreed between the nationalities and organized to be known as Concord the safe haven, for some, the envy of others.

Could a empire state be developed in law less space on a planet, or would anarchy begin to reign. Would organizations come together to help each other or would they destroy everything that the developers had work so hard for.

Only time and space would tell.

– by Necronomicon

The welder trips the auxiliary generator again, plunging the tunnel into darkness once more. “Damn it” the frustrated Necronomicon punches the hull plate with his bare fists until his knuckles start to bleed.

It is useless, the twisted plate is too strong to be manipulated by hand, and Necro knows it. He has been on this planet for 3 days now, slowly repairing the damage inflicted during his visit to Caldari Prime.

Trudging back to the pod bay door he starts going over the past few days, and how events had lead him here, the offer in the bar at Niyabainen IX Caldari Navy from the peculiar looking Gallente guy, seemed to good to be true at the time; “now look at me”.

Back onboard his Harpy class Assault Frigate, and warming in the soothing amubiotic bliss of his pod, Necro starts going through the ship logs again to try and ascertain exactly what it was that caused so much damage to his ship.

“20060113 12:04 – “Unknown hits you inflicting 948 damage”

“What the hell was it?”

He remembers setting Prime as his warp point and the warnings from the Gallente Navy Megathron as he uncloaked “Yeah, trying locking me biatch!”, and thinks he can remember coming out of warp, but he cannot recall whether or not he saw anything on his overview before the explosion. All he has been able to tell up to now is that something caused his ship massive damage to the point where all modules were put offline “This being the case, how did I manage to end up in this cave?” He gets frustrated at the lack of information once more.

“INCOMING TRANSMISSION SIGNAL”

“N…..no…..con, are…..y……th….e..”

The static on the planet’s atmosphere combined with being hundreds of feet beneath the surface cut the transmission before Necronomicon can reply. “Damn Gallente Ice mines, but I suppose if nobody can scan for me, I will be safe for now”.

Necro turns to his ship diagnostics, guns are offline, and still show a full compliment of charges. Shield Booster is completely burned out “Must speak to the Gistum about that damn ‘combat damage excluded’ warranty”

It was only a week before that his boss had advised him to fit the mobile pod bay to all his ships; luckily he had taken that advice, otherwise he would be in an even worse position than he was. “If I could just find out where that battery leak is, might be able to get this thing back in the air”

After warming his bruised bones for a few more minutes, Necro slowly activates the pod bay. As the last of the fluid is drained, the neural interface is unplugged and his naked body is slowly tipped out onto the pod bay floor. Feeling the cold, he rushes into his suit and enters the airlock once more.

He was beginning to regret using the last of his failing capacitor battery to move the ship further into the tunnels; light was required to work on the underbelly of his Harpy, and light is something he didn’t have much of. The generator finally spluttered into life “Note to self, turn the welder down a bit”.

The problem of how to get the damaged plate back into place was causing Necro a real headache, there was nothing onboard out around the ship which had sufficient strength to…..”Wait a damn minute, I wonder if…..common Necro mate you are starting to go craz…nah, screw it, it is worth a try”.

Four hours later and one of the Harpy’s 125mm Tech 2 Railguns is lying on the floor, wired up to the generator and pointing roughly back at the ship. Necro stands with an evil grin on his face “This is pure genius, reckon a single blast from this puppy will knock that plate back nicely….three……twooo….onAAARRRGGGHH!!” The railgun flies backwards smashing off the tunnel wall, Necro is thrown backwards with it, landing in a crumpled heap.

He regains consciousness a few minutes later, the generator has cut out again, he cannot see more than a couple of inches in front of him due to the darkness and dust thrown up by the blast. He finds the wall of the tunnel, and slowly starts moving along to where he thinks the ship is….BANG..”OW” and finds it. Moving along to the generator control panel, after a few false starts, the inspection light finally glows into life….”Well, cover me in bees and call me honey, it worked, right, let’s find this battery leak”

With a new found respect for himself, Necro starts looking round the aft of the ship for signs of further damage. A small trail of fluid catches his eye. “Acid, damn”. With a breach in the battery casing, he was sunk again. Didn’t matter if he could bring main ship generator online, without somewhere to store the energy, he would not be able to power up any more than one module at a time.

“Getting cold again, time to go back inside”

Back in his pod, and warmed again, Necro starts on reading the ship logs for the fiftieth time when…

“Necr..nom.n, are..yo…the.e..bu..dy?”

“Necro….it.s…..Jo..”

“JO, WHERE ARE YOU?”

nothing, Necro sinks back..

“Just outside Luminaire now, boy, are you in trouble, you are all over Gallente Police and Navy Channels, we thought we had lost you, what the hell is going on?”

“Hmm, I can hear you much better now, you boosting or something? Don’t want the Navy swarming me where I am right now”

“Don’t worry Necro, we are bouncing off a Gallente industrial outside Duvolle Labs, they wont be monitoring this transmission”

Necro trusted Jo, he was a dab hand at tunnelling through communications firewalls, not even the poor fool on the Iteron knew he was being used as a host.

“What is your status Nec?”

“I feel like I have done ten rounds with an Amarr Slaver, and my ship looks like something out of ‘Matar Scrapheap Challenge’, does that answer your question?”

“What is your current location?”

“In a bloody big hole on Planet 3, no way of getting out at the moment, main battery is busted open, no modules online at present, oh, and one of my rails has decided to take a road trip down the tunnel”.

“How did that happen? Wait, don’t tell me, you decided to play the big guy out of Predator again didn’t ya?”

“What can I say Jo, chicks dig big guns. Anyway, it served its purpose, at least I got a complete hull now”

“I shudder to think. Ok, the lads and I are forming a plan, you stay put, will be in touch later, Jo out”.

Necro managed a smile, they had come for him. The last few months had been difficult for Necro in his corporation; he didn’t know how much a part of the team he was until now. If anyone was gonna get him out of this, the Mercenary Forces would find a way.

“Necro, didn’t you book a small Tech 2 Cap Battery out of hangar the other day….where is it?”

Necro suddenly feels a huge sensation of stupidity wash over him, checking his cargo logs

Dread Guristas Antimatter Charge Small 2000

Thorn Rage Rocket 500

Vitoc 21

Small Capacitor battery II

“DOH, I am on it Jo, my brain must have got a bit squished during impact”

“Drugs are bad Nec m’kay?”

He splashed onto the pod bay floor once more, back outside, the laborious task of wiring the battery in manually began. The ship was designed to run the battery in parallel to the main battery, but since the main one was damaged, it had to be removed from the grid.

Back in his pod after an hour, Necro punched up the core systems “84 cap? I have seen shuttles with more juice, suppose it will have to do.”

Shields 0%

Armour 0%

Hull 12%

“Just great”

“………………………………………………”

“Neccy?”

“Bad’Boy?”

“How’s it going you slag, shame to hear you are still alive…..just kidding, what is going on?”

“You using Jo’s carrier signal?”

“Nope, I am in system, a friend of mine runs R&D missions from here, he has kindly set me up with a clean comms system in the back of his Deimos”

“Good enough. I am a bit bashed up, but managed to get myself 84 cap online, most of my modules are screwed, Afterburner seems to be salvageable, as do 2 of the guns, rockets are down and out, as is shield boosting.”

“Well, once we have worked out your exact location, Mada has put himself forward for running the gauntlet with an Imicus, he has armour rep and shield boost drones, and some tools etc for ya. Waiting for a gap in the patrols to get him in. We WILL get you out of there. Oh and by the way, Yatta aint happy with you, what the hell were you doing at Caldari Prime, why did you kill a Senator, and why are they saying you were with a Serpentis cruiser? BB out”

“What the…damn, he has gone”

Mordu’s frigates? Assassination? Something started to smell really bad, and Necro knew it wasn’t his pod.

Necro was one of a small amount of pilots who had been brought up through his military life to believe that the pod was a job, not a way of life. Most of his corp were of the same mind, and rarely remained in their capsules once docked.

Given that pod life severely drains the body of any physical energy, Necro was glad for this decision, there would have been no way he would have been able to survive outside if he had fallen in line with the majority.

“PROXIMITY ALERT”

His overview buzzed into life, dreading the flashing red of the police, or even worse, the navy, Necro closed the blast screen and waited for the flash…..it never came.

“Necro!! Hows it hanging?”

“MADA!!!”

With no time to waste, Necro slammed the pod bay into action, and suited up. Madalaup was already outside when the airlock popped open. The lunatic had managed to slide his Cargo Frigate past possibly the largest Gallente security operation in Luminaire’s history, and managed to find me. Or at least Necro hoped he had managed to evade detection.

“You been a bad lad Necro, everybody is after you; the Minnies, Gallente, even the State has condemned you with the Empire following suit. But we still love ya you crazy son of a bitch”

“What ya got for me Mada?”

Mada handed Necro a cargo log….

Mechanical Parts 10

Hi Tec Arms 20

Gravimetric Sensor Cluster 2

Graviton Reactor Unit 1

Magpulse Thruster 4

Sustained Shield Emitter 2

Titanium Diborite Armor Plates 10

Guidance System 1

Hydrogen Batteries 2

Robotics 10

Ukomi Super Conductors 20

125mm Railgun II 4

Rochet Launcher II 1

Gisti Small Shield Booster 1

Test Dummies 1

“Whose idea was the dummy?”

“Yatta’s, he said there was more chance of that getting this ship out in one piece than you”

“Typical. You know all this crap about what I did is bullshit?”

“Yeah, we didn’t think you would be that stupid, but then we know you a little better than most”

Being a mercenary, Necro was used to being kill on sight to a lot of corporations, up to now, he had always managed to skip past the regional forces, always keeping his standings towards them as good as possible; usually with some fast-talking. Now he had pretty much every pod pilot after his hide. Things were looking pretty dire, and he wondered how much his corporation were willing to sacrifice to help him.

The ominous buzz of the repair drones echoed through the tunnels, Mada and Necro safely in their pods away from the welding torches and plasma beams that scurried over the Harpy’s hull. After a short while, Necro’s ship was starting to look like it was just another badly looked after frigate, and so the module repairs began…

“Necro, seems like we got some good news and some bad news…”

“Good news first please Jo, I always like to end on a low”

“Good news is that most of the gang are now holding in Du Annes, we have a good spread of ships, KIA and the Merc Coalition have given you, and us a 24 hour head start to clear your name; took a bit of persuasion. Which leads to the bad news…”

“I think I already know”

“The Federation has put all Mercenary corporations on us, they have been ordered to hunt us down, and bring you to them dead or alive. As I said, I have contacted KIA, and Yatta has spoken to Seleene and explained that you have been fitted up. But the other merc corps are not talking to us, they see this as an opportunity to hit the big time. I think this is gonna get messy”.

Necro sat back in his pod, although the Mercenary Forces were a superb bunch of pilots, and did not really care too much for many of the smaller entities; he knew that if KIA or the MC guys did come after him, he would have no choice but to turn himself in.

“Have you had any luck on finding out what the hell happened?”

“Don’t know yet Necro, got Z and Sven snooping round Caldari Prime in coverts at the moment, but as you would expect, there is a huge police and navy presence; if there was any evidence, I expect they will already have removed it.”

Nothing was giving Necro any hope that he was going to walk away from this. Mada was busy outside replacing the missing/destroyed railguns, Necro was just about to join him when…..

“Necronomicon, thees eez Commandair Jacques Villevue of thee Fairderateeon Naveee. We know you are in theeere, shut doon your naveegateeon computairs and come out using throosters powair onlee”

“Necro is not here right now, please leave a message after the beep…BEEP”

Necro scurried out of his pod, and ran outside to find mada beating the crap out of a seized bolt on the Afterburner housing.

“They found is Mada, we are screwed, I gotta go out there, I have to, we are..”

Necro looked up at the tunnel ceiling, it wasn’t the first time Mada had hit him, and there was always a good reason for it.

“Bad’Boy has planned ahead, there is another exit to this tunnel system, a vent shaft that is big enough for our ships. It isn’t that far from the main entrance, but far enough away that we should be able to get to warp before they are on us.”

“But my ship is..”

“Your ship is fine, once I got this housing off, you will be up an running with guns, AB, and shield boost. I haven’t had time to replace the main battery, so 84 is all you got, use it wisely. Now for Christ’s sake, get a grip, get back in your pod and stall them”

Necro rejoined his ships comms system in time to hear the Gallente Commanders voice repeating..

“You have 60 seconds to begin making your way to the entrance, or else”

“Hello, hello, who is this?”

“Thees eez Commandair Jacques Villevue of thee Fairderateeon Naveee, you have had ampel warnings”

“I am sorry, I don’t speak French, do you want me to come outside?”

“Yes!”

“Excuse me, I didn’t quite catch that…”

Necro saw light coming down the tunnel..2…5…8 beams of light darting about….SOLDIERS!

Launching from the pod bay door..”MADA!!”

Mada was already rummaging in the cargo bay of his ship, and emerged with 2 Hi Tech plasma rifles. Necro plucked his from mid air as it was thrown to him.

“Cross over formation, I’ll take left”

“Roger that Necro”

It was a good place to fight, Necro and Mada were soon up within the tunnel walls, rifles aimed down the tunnel towards the oncoming forces.

“Watch for anyone trying to get down that gulley on the right Necro, if they get behind us, we be dead”

As the advancing soldiers reached the open area of the tunnel, they slowed and began searching the darkness for signs of the mercenary. By the time they had seen the 2nd ship it was too late. Bolts of plasma were already in the air cutting anything in their path into pieces.

The soldiers returned fire, Necro pouring fire diagonally across the tunnel. Then suddenly..

“Drop it!”

The voice came from behind him, Necro slowly put down his rifle. There was no noise from either in front of him or to his right where Mada was. Necro cursed himself at the loss of his brother in arms who had given his life for him.

Slowly turning to face the Gallente Soldier, Necro knew the game was up.

“I will come quietly”
BANG

A single shot rang out, the soldier’s body smashed against the tunnel wall, Necro turned to see Mada leant against a boulder, a huge plasma burn on his shoulder, still aiming his rifle at where the Gallente had stood.

“I have never shot a guy from so close before, see how he bounced off that wall, cool”

“Shit dude, though I had lost you then, we need to get you in your pod fast”

Necro ran over and helped Mada towards his ship. Once in his pod, he would slowly be nursed by the fluids within.

“Ok, firing up main engines, navigation online, guns online, Afterburner and Shields up, we ready to go?”

Necro finished his own pre-flight checks

“Show me the way to go home”

“Stop singing Necro, it just isn’t right”

The two ships slowly lifted off the tunnel floor and head cautiously deeper into the planet.

“About 2 clicks, then we turn left into the ventilation system Necro”

“rgr that, following your lead”

Moving at almost walking pace through the tight ventilation shafts, the ships constantly bumped and scraped off the jagged walls

“Maybe these tunnels are big enough for Bad’Boy’s Taranis, but this Harpy is too damn tall”.

“Stop whining, and keep moving”

It was a while before Necro saw light around Mada’s ship, the shaft entrance was about 300 metres ahead.

“Now, BB tells me there is about 6 Navy Megathrons with some support cruisers and Interceptors, they are gonna be about 200 clicks off our port side. When we break cover, align for the first moon on Planet two, I will warp us out. On my mark I want you to punch your Afterburner, we need to get up to speed fast. 3..2..1..mark”

Necro summoned his ship’s computer to engage the Afterburner, both ship erupted from the shaft amid a huge cloud of debris. Planet 3 had been a testing ground for the Navy’s research department after the ice was mined out of it, and the surface was scarred and burnt.

“Shit, 2 Navy Taranis 30 clicks and closing”.

“On it”

Necro started his firing solutions on the lead Interceptor, his ship was well designed to deal with this issue, but Mada’s ship was lightly armed, and even lighter armoured.

“2 seconds……….firing”

The 125mm Railguns burst into life, tearing huge lumps of armour off the Taranis on the first volley.

“Warp Mada…..WARP, get out now!”

Necro watched as Mada’s ship attempted to power up its warp field, only to see it collapse again.

“I am scrambled Necro, get them off me!!”

Necro looked to his overview to see 2 Ares class interceptors and 2 Hawk class Assault frigates approaching, the first Taranis pilot was now in his pod, the second was in close orbit around the harpy, moving too fast for the guns to hit.

“I cant warp, the Taranis that I took down must have been on you, warp out now, I will follow”

Necro again turned to look at Mada’s Imicus spewing flames from it’s starboard fuel tank, and felt a sensation of relief as he saw it changing course towards Planet two, and disappear off his display.

“Thank god for that, wait, screw god, we are on our own”

Although the Taranis could not get past the high resistances of Necro’s Shields, he was looking at the ever decreasing capacitor charge on his ship.

“That bastard is nossing me. Mada, I am down to 70% shields, cant shake this Ceptor, was a good plan, and thanks, but I think I am toast”.

“YEEEEEHHHAAAAAAAWWWWW!!!!!”

The Taranis literally exploded off Necro’s port bow, smashed pieces of plate bounced off his shields.

“Go Neccy GO!!, we will show these nubs how it is done”

Black 1 and Bishop’s Vagabonds tore away towards the oncoming Ares interceptors that were almost upon Necro’s Harpy, both reduced to dust as they passed by them.

“Ok, nothing to tackle you now, warp to Mada, GO GO GO”

A few minutes later, Necro was alongside Mada’s beaten up Imicus and the two vagabonds at a remote safespot.

“Systems Check Neccy? Mada?”

“Cap back at 84, shields repaired, looking good”

“Amour and shields repaired, hull at 48%” Mada replied

“Lucky bastards, lucky you had us on standby” The two Vagabonds arrived at the staging point.

Necro was again warmed by the fact that yet more of his Corporation were willing to throw down on his behalf.

“We still aint out of the woods yet guys”

“Necro, got a plan already” Bad’boy started to explain.

“Now they know for sure you are in system, they have contacted CONCORD to allow all sentry guns to be set to Kill on sight for our corporation, this has already been approved. The federation has also applied to operationally shut down Luminaire to all civilian traffic and deploy warp bubbles on all the gates and stations. CONCORD are still mulling this over, but I expect they will agree. The only chance we have to get you out is now….Bishop?”

Bishop poured into the conversation in his usual manner.

“Yeah dude, I got like some insta bookmarks from Planet 1 to the Du Annes gate. Don’t worry, I didn’t make them, Jo did”.

A few seconds later, a can jettisoned from Bishop’s Vagabond, and quickly scooped up by Black.

“Ok, I have gang lead, gonna warp us to planet one at 100 clicks, turn and align to the Du Annes Stargate. When we hit the gate, we got a couple of seconds before the sentry guns target and track us. Quickest way to get through is set autopi….”

“We get the picture Black, lets roll” Mada interrupted.

Necro always liked being in warp, the serenity and peaceful howl was almost therapeutic. The tunnel finally started to collapse as the small rag tag gang approached Planet one.

“Two dreadnoughts 5 o’clock high 120 clicks, no point even worrying about them, by the time they have locked us, we will be in Du Annes”

The gang turned to head towards the gate, more Navy vessels warped in at 20 kilometres from the gang, only in time to see the four warp trails disappear.

“Get ready guys, hot ships coming through” Black was on a role.

“MMMM, flashy redness 4tw, shall we engage?”

“Shut up bishop, get through that gate”

Fortunately for Necro and the gang, the stargates that joined the Eve universe together are run by an independent entity how only adhere to strict CONCORD guidelines for ship passage, not even CONCORD can override these quidelines, and soon the ships were safely in the Du Annes system.

“Ok, align, Planet five”

Joseph’s Sacrilige loomed into view as the warp tunnel collapsed.

“Glad to see you Necro, good job on the extraction team”

“Roger that boss” Mada chirped in.

“Cheers guys, you really pulled out all the stops”

Necro was beginning to relax a little. He could see from his scanners that they were in one of their secret safespots. These were created by previous corporation members and friends, and were usually at least 150 light years from and celestial object. This one was over 250.

“They couldn’t find us if they used deep space probes, we should be ok here for a short while at least” Jo explained.

Another ship turned up on the scanner, Taranis class. Soon Bad’boy appeared on Necro’s overview.

“Wazzup guys” Bad’boy was his usual cheerful self.

“Poor Fed Navy, they looked really down in the dumps at the Du Annes gate. Local comms have estimated you are all at least 3 to 4 jumps away now and still running”.

“That’s good news, if they cant find us on scanner, and we keep local comms silent, they shouldn’t be even looking for us too hard in this system” Black added.

Another ship shows up on scanner, much bigger. A Munnin class Heavy Assault Cruiser appears….El Yatta.

“There you are you little shit”

Necro’s ship shakes

“El Yatta hits you for 386 damage”

“That is for pissing off on your own little missions without clearance” Necro could hear the anger in Yatta’s voice.

“Look dude, I am as confused as anyone about what is going on. I met with a Gallente in Niyabainen last week. It was a simple pickup job. 150 million isk to collect a sealed container from Caldari Prime and bring it back to him. Nothing more, nothing less”

“Christ Necro, that job is worth maybe 5-8 million tops, didn’t you think that there might be more to it?” Jo asked

“Look, I was skint, that last contract sucked me dry”

“Well, it looks as though you fell into a trap. Did you get a name for this guy in Niya?”

“No, sorry, you know how it is in our game, no names. He was a weird looking mofo though, not like you usual Gallente. Had a bit of a Matarish look about him, dark skin.”

Jo moved onto global comms…

“Z, Sven, you there?”

Zhelna replied

“Yes Captn, nothing more found here, sorry”

“I am not bothered about the site now. I need you and Sven to jump into Interceptors and head to Niyabainen 9 Moon 19 Navy. Be on the lookout for a Gallente male, dark skin. Last seen in the station bar. He is probably long gone by now, but it is worth a shot”

“Ok, on our way, Z out”

The Mercenary Forces ships slowly moved in the direction of the sun, plasma still leaking from Madaluap’s frigate.

“Right, our sources in the federation tell me that they have no idea where any of us are at the moment…..

And it ends there….

– by Casparian

Its amazing how as you get older , memory is only a guide not a reference to your life, however some things you never forget.

There was nothing special about that day, no omens to warn of what was to come , the gods didnt see fit to let our villiage know its idyllic existence was over and was about to be invaded, our worlds resourses raped and its inhabitants slaughtered or made slaves, it was just a ordinary day for me.

I remember the smell of Rietu cooking as I opened my eyes , the sunlight coming through the curtians made the shadows dance and the dust sparkle, the sound of my mothers voice rang through our hut as she sang to herself whilst she prepared the morning meal.As the door opened and my mothers head came through I tried to hide under the covers seeking just another few moments of rest, but not quick enough ” Casp get your ass out of bed and come eat, the crops wont wait on your sleep filled eyes and we need to get the seeds to market this eve” whilst her words were harsh I knew she wasnt angry , probably more amused at my attempt to pretend sleep , its amazing I can remember how nice the Rietu was that morning but still have trouble remembering what my mother wore that day, I will never forget the first bite of Rietu, it wasnt really that memorable but it was what I vomited when half of my mothers head was sliced away, I turned as the door slammed open, the sunlight blinding me for a moment, as all I saw was a large shadow in the door, something in his hand flashed brighter than the sun, bright enough to blind me for a moment and at the crash behind me I spun around.

There are things in my life I wish I could change , I would wish that our planet wasnt Invaded by Amarrian slavers, if that wasnt granted, I would wish I hadnt turned around and seen my mother lying on the floor with half her face missing.

Some of the slaves will tell you they survived because they were strong and fought slavery with all their breath, they are liars, the strong ones died first, screaming and in agony, examples to all of us the rewards that strength brings you.Other slaves will tell you they survived becuase they always had hope , always had a reason to live, I believe these people are lying as well , just to themselves, delusion takes many forms.

I survived because I did what was necessary to live day by day, I had no hope , no delusions, no wild flights of fantasy to help me through the days.I survived by using my wit and intelligence both of which I took pains to hide but both of which were my constant allies.I made myself usefull when necessary and scarce when needed, I may have forgotten the details of a lot of my indenture but I have never forgotten nor forgiven any of the violations,, consider it my own way of coping with it.I take inordinate pride in knowing not one slaver is left breathing who violated me.

In the quiet times late at night when whiskey and age has made me melancholy I am willing to admit that the day I was rescued was also the day I was going to kill myself, no matter how intelligent or full of wit I considered myself to be , I was a slave, I had taken more than enough, twice previously I had tried to kill myself, did you know that you cant strangle yourself, you pass out and wake up with a sore kneck and throat, silly that I tried this method twice then .I was becoming too tall to work on the planet operations, the reason why they didn’t need adults in the first place and the reason for my mothers death along with all the other adults , the childrens mining tunnels were easier to build and needed less construction, so I was being transported to the orbiting station slave gangs, somehow I was going to get myself killed quickly by the gaurds, and this is more difficult than you would believe , the slave lords dont look kindly on losing a valuble resource like a prime slave so torture is prefferable form of punishment over random slave murders.

I have never believed in the gods, a thing I think you will find most slaves share with me, I may not believe in the gods but I am damn sure fate is out there laughing at my tangled skien.My heart isnt a brave one but I am convinced I was just about to try getting myself killed when the first missile hit the transport but back then I didn’t know what a missile sounded like, I may not believe in god but when you think he is taking a personal interest in your soul and is banging on the side of your ship you sure get the hang of praying quick enough.It appears the Amarrian slavers really do value their slaves because when the ship went “pop” I thought that my need to die had been granted, how was a 12 year old supposed to know about containment fields in the cargo bay protecting cargo so it can be rescued, when we started floating away from the seats, manacles our only anchors stopping us from bumping around the hold , that is when the panic set in, screams and tears mixed in with prayers , panic is never a tasty dish.

Apparently the Minmitar freedom fighters have been freeing slaves for as long as most of them can remember, first of all we just thought they were our new masters, our fear and cowering seemed to disgust most of them, it didn’t stop them from helping us though. Some , not many, were more understanding, these were the ones who spent most of their time with us , preparing us for our new lives.The doctors first of all made sure we were healthy then gene spliced our DNA so we effectively became another race, I may be Caldari now but it wasnt always so, the scientists were responsible for our learning and understanding , using a cocktail of boosting drugs and some rather nifty implants our knowledge and capability in this new world were brought up to a reasonable standard and for those of us with the capability like myself, we were given extra skills to match our races , apparently I have perfect attributes to be a caldari missile specialist….go figure.

I am not saying that it was all sweetness and light, far from it, we were not given everything , we were set free with enough to buy a small freehold and understanding enough to make our way in the world or enough to buy a ship and not accept any world as home and forge our own destiny in the stars.Guess where I ended up.

Normally I wouldn’t be writing any of this down, it would stay locked in my head safe and secure but I am close to reaching my goal and living past it isn’t getting good odds as far as I can see.I am in a respectable industrial corporation, I have been running missions for Amarr Ministry of War , building up my standing, smiling the monsters in the face and stabbing them in the back, every mission that requires me to hunt slaves down I set them free, then find loyal Amarr citizens , get them gene spliced and their memories wiped and replaced,and their appearances altered, it isn’t cheap but it gives me great pleasure repaying the slave owning bastards in this way.Unfortunately my sucess may be my own downfall, my sucess in completing missions for the Amarr Empire has brought about a amusing situation, tonight I meet with the Amarr Emperor himself to be personally thanked for one of the more delicate Issues I dealt with.

Tonight I get a chance to repay the Amarrian empire once and for all.I cant remember most of my indenture, a result of the drugs and brain work when I was freed, a blessing most would say but I will never forget my mothers face on the floor ,half of it missing, her remaining one eye staring at me through all these years , finally I get a chance to close her eyes in death , all it will take is one more murder and finally my revenge on the Amarrs will be complete.

Tonight the Amarr empire will know loss like mine , every single one of them , when the Amarr empire falls the vultures will circle and then feed.