Intergalactic Summit

Yesterday I was involved in a series of capsuleer engagements that involved the death or injury of approximately three hundred enemy combatants and corporate personnel.

Upon RTB I retired to have an post-patrol meal of marinated herb lamb, vegetables, and a rich butter gravy accompanied with a bottle of 97 vintage shiraz viognier. Dinner was then concluded as I went through and confirmed all necessary death, injury, and grievance notices with attached insurance payouts to authorized next of kin through the SCC where possible via neural interface.

Then I put on some Desienne piano concertos for the next two hours along with a few string quartets by Yamalle while I had a discussion with a quantitative mathematician and a financial software team regarding a new high frequency trading model related to some interesting prospects regarding commodities derivatives in the Republic. Dropped a line to an old Krusual friend which saved me time having to do things the old-fashioned way. Ran the model through the black boxes for a few hours while everything checked out. They did so I provided a copy and share of the cut to those required while everyone else got services rendered.

Went to bed watching some Caldari noir from the pre-Fed days while Blondie stood vigilant watch over the door as Syrikos hounds appear to have a want to do.

That's more or less a typical day in the week for me, give or take, so I'm not sure how my life might be massively improved doing anything different when I already find the duties I have at present more than satisfying and fulfilling at both a personal and professional level.

I'm aware. You'll remember that I was in the same patrol, although I had no paperwork to perform at it's conclusion, having brought all my people home.

Reminds me, though, I have to arrange to repatriate the Scope POW's I captured...



And aside from duties? My point, ma'am, was that you need to develop an off-duty life that revolves around more than your pets. Respectfully.

Sometimes I wonder, how much could you hold, if I met you outside of capsule and decided to educate you?
I usually despise it when weaklings break during training and I prefer to not look at it, but for your case, it will be amusing to watch how you will whine that you don't have lamb, that you can't hear piano concertos and watch some reels or whatever.
So much hedonism for one day, unbelievable... You know, you are so disgusting, that I wouldn't probably even try to instruct you. I would shoot you like if you were a gallentean.

Back when I had far less responsibilities in my youth than I do today, I was quite the fan of GalNet shooter games. In many respects you often remind of one of the constants in such communities: the pre-pubescent child playing unsupervised without a responsible adult who would go on rage filled rants because they lacked the emotional coping skills to handle the hit to their self-esteem when I would land an unscoped headshot on them at two-hundred metres. In much the same way, I would then have to ask you same great philosophical question I put to them and which is asked in local communications the cluster over:

"Why so mad, Diana Kim?"

I am mad?...
It's a usual galletean behavior to tell people that they are mad, when they point what is wrong with you.

Look, girl, you have no idea what does it mean to be mad. For example, my drill instructor, he was mad. And if you think that I am mad, then your drill instructor was... like a nurse? "Please wake up, soldier! I brought you your hot milk, soldier!"
I won't be surprised if you with peoples like you were kept watching galletean holoreels instead of exercises, so you wouldn't disturb training of normal citizens.

This could explain your insubordination, incompetence and hedonism.
And, of course, could possibly even explain your hallucinations, like when you said that I was demoted, and other imaginary crap that you were saying.

Gallente wine is an abomination. Your people lack both the patience and proper singularity of purpose to will the grapes towards their proper destinies.

Gesakaarin dear, don't take this man's advice, unless you desire a slow and painful death by poisoning of inferior product.



......This has given me an idea though....... we should put some of our vintages to a proper competition some time. Perhaps a capsuleer wine-off featuring some of the finest selections for blind taste-tests.... yes.... an event is forming in my mind.

It's the dark side, Pieter, tread carefully.

Vodka. Now. Always. Vodka.

But you can't bloody cook with it and it doesn't GO with any food.

That's... you can't... no. Wine doesn't go with tea. Wine is an alcoholic drink served either chilled or at ambient temperature (very occasionally slightly warmed for very full-bodied reds) - tea is a non-alcoholic drink made from boiling water and left to sit for a few minutes. Drinking both at the same time would throw off your palette and - especially if it were a white or rose wine, which are usually served chilled - could upset your stomach.

The ideal combination of these two drinks in a meal is serving the wine with the meal itself, and then serving tea long after both the meal and the wine are finished.

Those damn Tuesdays.

I got out of that habit when I got tired of the feeling of somebody using a deep core harvester on my skull the next morning, but once upon a time...