• Vengeance
  • Wormhole
  • Asteroid - Blue
  • Asteroid - Green/Yellow
  • Plasma Planet
  • Asteroid - Purple
  • Intaki VI and Asteroids
  • Intaki Prime
  • SakBat
  • Warp Tunnel Distortion
  • Peyote Lake
  • Bighorns
  • Grizzly
  • White Anemone
  • Bleeding Heart
  • Purple Anemone
  • Waterton
  • Foothills
  • White Tiger
  • Red Panda
  • Orange Fungi
  • Grapes
  • Daenan
  • Arlayn
  • Stream
  • Berwen

Yearly archives: 2008

Cosmic Snowball Fights!

I woke today to find a peculiar delivery waiting for me in my station hangar. The station comms are abuzz about it; I guess everyone received the same, mysterious delivery: a snowball launcher and a supply of one hundred snowballs.

Devan and I dropped our plans for today to have fun with this. Devan stuck his on his Iskhur and I opted for an Incursus, and then we ran around Bereye and Halle pelting each other and anyone (and anything, including the station!) we could find with the huge snowballs. I tell you, CONCORD captains have no sense of humor: one in particular was rather annoyed when we opened fire on him. Just because the snowballs are bigger than a man’s head, they didn’t actually do any damage! He ranted about how he’d nearly blown us to smithereens.

We caught a lone Serpentis frigate in one of the asteroid belts and taunted him for a good half hour. I’m not sure why he didn’t call for reinforcements after I started alternating between snowball and blaster fire… Maybe he was laughing too hard at being pelted by snow to notice it was his ship melting until it was too late?

Life is good.

Devan gets pelted with a cosmic snowball

Devan gets pelted with a cosmic snowball


Mourning Star

Thanks to Devan Corvel for participating.

Everyshore Region – Osnins Constellation – Halle System
Deadspace

The last of the Serpentis ships exploded. Sakaane smiled a smile of satisfaction and set Ebony Cascade to intercept the nearest wreck while simultaneously alerting her crew to prepare to loot any viable cargo, including an item her agent wanted. She would return later in her Catalyst, Quicker Picker Upper, to retrieve the rest of the loot and salvage the wrecks for anything else of worth.

The wreck grew in her view as the Myrmidon approached and her camera drones drew near. She focused on it, sending the drones to circle around so she could see the sparking, twisted metal from all sides. How many pirate vessels had she reduced to this slag? She’d lost count. It felt great.

Her ship came in range and coasted to a stop. While waiting idly for the cargo to be transferred aboard and for lack of anything else to do, Sakaane brought up her ship’s directional scanner and fiddled with the settings. She didn’t really expect to find anything else but junk and debris out here in the middle of nowhere—after all, that was why pirate factions like the Serpentis chose to live in these dead areas—but sometimes the scanner would pick up an occasional amusing tidbit of something, and it was better than passing the time simply floating in her capsule doing nothing.

An intermittent blip appeared on the scanner.

Her crew signaled up. “It’s not in this one.”


Director of Personnel

The theft two days ago has left everyone rather contemplative. Devan, Nailo, and I were talking about it today and I tossed out a few ideas regarding new procedures for bringing new people into the corp.

Given these guys are all friends (more or less; I don’t think Eric actually knows the meaning of the word) I think to date they haven’t really thought about how to handle recruitment of complete strangers. After Ven and Gabe I was probably the closest thing to it when Devan brought me in.

Anyway, I suggested things like a more rigorous interview process and even some co-op work before bringing someone under the corp’s banner. Next thing I knew I was being offered the title of Director of Personnel along with all of the responsibilities and security permissions that go with it!

I felt embarrassed and even shamed. I don’t believe Devan ever repeated to Nailo nor anyone else the things I said about the TGPI crew back in September, but I wondered if Nailo somehow knew anyway. Maybe that office is bugged… Yet the offer was there, free for me to take if I wanted.

Even though I had (and, to much extent, still have) reservations about the company Devan has been keeping, so far it’s been working out all right. The bulk of the corp keeps to themselves and many of them are often off in other parts of New Eden, so we rarely actually cross paths. I spend most of my time with Devan and Eric, and for the most part that suits me fine. The guys are polite when they do see me though, and I reply in kind, so we have been getting along. Small steps.

For Nailo to offer this to me is much more than a small step though. An investment of trust…

I accepted.


Petty Thief Meets Unfortunate End

We hit a noteworthy growth milestone today, experiencing our first incident of corporate theft. The culprit was a recent recruit, Katja Zhthrass. She attempted to make off with a stockpile of goods from the corp hangar.

Thankfully Devan has done his job well. Access to the corp hangars is regulated and restricted for new recruits. All the high-end technology and other such goods are locked away in the Director’s hangars. She could only make off with petty items kept in the unsecured general locker.

Being Director of Security, Devan called in the DED and they ended up coming upon a rather grisly discovery in the hangar bay. Someone had brought in a crate of slaver hounds, recovered from an illegal slave trader’s wreck, and I guess Zhthrass opened it…and met an untimely end.

This wouldn’t normally have been much of an issue, as she was a capsuleer like any other. Except that our accounting records turned up something else odd… She must have made use of an illegal cloning facility and something went wrong. She’s truly dead, which I’m not sure is just desserts after already being devoured by the hounds. But no family came forward, so TGPI was awarded a sum of approximately $300,000.00 ISK, being the default beneficiary of Ms. Zhthrass’s estate!

We all had a good chuckle over it. Meanwhile, the hounds have been sent to the humane service for rehab and adoption, and Devan will be putting the money toward buying additional security.

Just goes to show…crime doesn’t pay.


Wealth

I am…amazed. I haven’t yet been with TGPI for two weeks but already I have made enough money to move Mom from the long-term care facility back to our family home on Intaki and arrange for private care for her. I’ve retained Aranza as her primary nurse and can provide salary for support staff to share in upkeep of the house.

She still won’t speak but I think she was happy. At the very least, when I called to tell her all my recent news she didn’t, for once, have that look of disapproval in her eyes. I can tell she’s still unhappy I became a pilot but I think some of the worry is gone now that I’m working independently…and can send her home.

I never would have been able to afford this if I’d remained with the navy. Never.


Tattoo

Devan took me to a tattoo artist today. He said he wanted to help me find ways to distance myself from the navy, and what better way to do so than to personify my rejection of it through a rebellious medium such as skin art?

At first I was reluctant. I’ve seen my share of Minmatar and many of them are covered head to toe in designs. I didn’t think that kind of thing is for me. But tattoos are popular with a lot of Gallente these days. Devan has one that isn’t actually terribly intrusive on his features, and once I was in the shop with him I saw they offered a number of feminine choices.

In the end I chose one I felt was simple and elegant. The nano-technology involved means I don’t have to wear it all the time if I don’t want to, and I can have it changed later. But I like it.

Sakaane Eionell


First Meeting (Reprise)

Thanks to Devan Corvel for participating.

Bereye III – Moon 1 – Roden Shipyards Factory

Happy Face of Death docked quietly, a speck of armor and guns amidst numerous other ships moving about their own business. Inside the capsule, Sakaane waited patiently for the tug to tow her ship into a bay.

Relief and guilt struggled for dominance within her and as she dwelled upon each it seemed she spun in circles. Relief for being out of the navy and moving on to what she hoped were better horizons, which led to guilt for breaking her commitment to the squad even though she’d watched other pilots come and go the same way…leading back to the same relief for having made the decision she knew was right for her…and on and on.

She noticed her ship sitting idle in an access way between hangars and panned the camera drones around, focusing on the tug just ahead. “What’s the holdup?”

“Sorry, ma’am,” came the speedy reply. “We’ve received a request to berth you in Bay 173 but there is a slight delay due to some…equipment…that requires moving. Please accept our apologies for the inconvenience.”

“Fine, thank you.” She dismissed the channel and returned to her brooding.


Resignation

Duripant VII – Moon 6 – Federal Navy Academy School

Sakaane sat on her favorite barstool in Deck 17 and scrolled through the Scope newsfeed in her datapad. A story caught her eye:

Recovering from the shock of defeat in Luminaire, sizeable sections of the Gallente populace have begun to call for integrity and accountability amongst Federation Navy leadership, a group they hold chiefly responsible for the disastrous military blunders of June 10.

Just one of many recent events representing a growing crisis of faith in their own security forces, yesterday’s “Citizen’s Emergency Summit” held in Villore saw more than a hundred prominent Federation luminaries unite in agreement about who was to be held ultimately accountable. Jointly hosted by some of the larger subsidiaries to the major Gallente corporations, the Summit was attended by various political officials, lobbyists and even cultural icons.

She chewed her dinner slowly and kept reading. A quote stood out:

“…We are undoubtedly dealing with entrenched, institutional corruption and incompetence, all of which has occurred under his watch. Our military leaders and their Chief of Command have failed us. We need to be sure now more than ever that this cannot happen again.”

“Entrenched, institutional corruption and incompetence,” Sakaane muttered, reading the article over again. “Sounds about right to me.”


Distraction

Despite whatever else he might have been into, more and more I find myself reflecting upon Commander Halerit’s words of wisdom to me and my squadmates: “You can’t be caught with your pants down. The Caldari are out there.”

Violence on Caldari Prime continues and the Federation has achieved nothing in the way of getting Gallente citizens out, nor made any progress toward restoring peace between the empires.

We’ve been caught with our pants down a lot lately. Fed Intel seems incapable of halting these leaks, and in the meantime, more lives and equipment are lost. Our captains seem disheartened and distracted and disorganized; I found myself floating in my pod again after one particularly stupid set of orders came down which we all followed and all paid the price for. The Caldari start out knowing where we’re going to be and then we bungle it because the brass handle the engagements poorly. Pathetic.


Stolen Arms

Thanks to Devan Corvel for participating.

Luminaire VII (Caldari Prime) – Moon 6 – Federation Navy Assembly Plant

The comm link was open; her fleet commander was talking.

“Good job today. The Serpentis are down fourteen to our none. You all know the drill: report for debriefing after docking and disconnection.”

Sakaane stretched in her pod while she waited for her ship, a Vexor-class cruiser affectionately named Happy Face of Death in honor of the arrangement of its forward-facing viewports, to be towed into her hangar behind those of her squadmates. Their missions had ended the same way, day in and day out, since she’d graduated that past March and she suspected more than a few of her squadmates were able to do ‘the drill’ in their sleep.

Graduation. The word passed through her mind like a sigh. Four years of study, of sweat and late nights, little sleep, of being hooked up to machines and suffering endless medical tests. Four years of struggling to maintain some sort of life outside the academy, of holding onto memories and motivations. Four years of being terrified she would fail, end up mindlocked or worse, while watching it happen to other classmates. Four years worrying that everything would turn out to be for nothing and she would have to go back to Intaki to an empty house and a ruined life. Sakaane took a shuddering breath. No, she’d made it. She’d pushed through, all so she could call herself a capsuleer.