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  • Date of Birth: 2007-08-21 08:13
  • First Forum Visit: 2012-03-14 20:46
  • Likes Received: 65

xCUSx

Security Status 5.0
  • HIgh Sec Care Bears Member since
  • Brothers of Tangra Member since

Last 20 Posts

  • [Proteus - January] Recon ships in EVE Technology and Research Center

    Yeah, honestly I'd rather lose the scan immunity and get the T2 resist profile, at least for Combat Recons. One of the major roles of these ships is fleet multiplication/disruption, but if they get chased off grid after 20secs by a single wave of drones then whats the point? Just my casual 2 cents.

  • Pod and Pilot Fiction Contest is back! in EVE Communication Center

    Congrats to all winners, especially Rhavas. Loved your piece mate, thought was a winner from the off :)

  • Pod and Pilot Fiction Contest is back! in EVE Communication Center

    Is it weird that I find myself checking this post every 30mins or so....Read a whole heap of the entrants and now nervous for my piece, it seemed good until I read a few of the others lol. Can't wait though :)

  • Pod and Planet 2013 Contest Entry - Red and Black in EVE Communication Center

    Very nice mate, keep it up :)

  • [Pod and Planet] Intercession in EVE Communication Center

    Nice work Rhavas, I like it. Made good reading to go with my cornflakes this morning :)

  • Pod and Planet Fiction Contest YC115 - Midway. in EVE Communication Center

    Love this Seraph, really nicely written. Great subject too.

  • Pod and Planet 2013 Entry - Getting Old in EVE Communication Center

    Thanks Sam, a bump and a plug all in one neat package =)

  • Pod and Planet 2013 Entry - Getting Old in EVE Communication Center

    +++++

    The ice rings around the system's fourth planet were providing surprisingly good cover for now, occasionally one of his pursuers would find him, but they were soon shaken off. It had been quite the dash from the station, losing his drones and a fair chunk of shield energy before managing to even escape the docking lanes. The corporation's security force had been greatly underestimated, and he hoped Lacrimosa's research would give her a good idea of what they would be facing. He just needed to get out of the system, then vanishing became easier, but for now he was trapped. As soon as he moved clear of the ice fields he was locked down by fast moving frigates, a pair of lumbering drakes waiting out of sensor range in support. Not ideal, the sooner the Death Jesters arrived the better, he mused.

    Four hours of cat and mouse around the drifting ice and rock debris passed like four days, but finally a comm signal broke through the silence.
    “We have your location, inbound in one minute.” Lacrimosa's artificially generated voice lost none of its husky charm over the comm net. Her words were slurring ever so slightly, no doubt the captain and her pilots had been sampling Laisser's payment. Laisser sent a non verbal reply, and fired up his afterburners, blasting clear of the large ice shard he had been sheltering behind to draw in the Aegis fleet's tacklers. Within seconds his warp core went offline, an Incursus class frigate locking him down hard. Barely a heartbeat later Laisser's systems registered another tackle from a speeding Merlin. 'Over to you Jesters' he thought to himself.

    The Aegis drakes landed almost simultaneously with Lacrimosa's crew. The fast moving wolfpack of fearsome Vagabond and Thorax cruisers instantly spread out, ignoring the lumbering Aegis battlecruisers and baring straight down on the racing frigates. Tracer fire lit up the void as autocannons blazed, the Vagabonds racing in and out of the ice debris, keeping themselves well hidden from the drakes while spurting bursts of fire at the tacklers. As Laisser watched, the lead vessel, no doubt Lacrimosa herself, turned hard around a large shard of ice, inverted and dived down on to the Merlin, making a near perfect kill as she blazed past, using the inertia of her manoeuvre to carry her on towards the Incursus. Laisser's cruiser rocked and shuddered as the Drakes finally achieved lock, their missile volleys hammering his shields with constant, heavy salvoes. Boosting off storage would buy him some time, but right now he needed that Incursus dead.

    Answering his prayers the Jesters' Vagabonds herded the speeding frigate towards the webifiers of the Thorax class cruisers. Like running into a wall, Laisser mused, as he watched the speed of the frigate drop rapidly before it detonated under punishing blaster fire. Blessedly free of interdiction, Laisser fired up his warp drives, rocketing away from the planet as his shields finally dropped.
    “Getting slow old man.”
    The thought wouldn't leave his head for some time.


    +++++

    “And so you are here, back with us at last Mr Laisser.” Suit smiled emotionlessly at the mercenary. His console flashed up a message with a tuneless chime.
    “Ah, it would seem your payment is ready Mr Laisser.”
    Laisser glared at him, clearly something wasn't right here.
    “I thought it was going to be two days,” he questioned, his hand dropping beneath the table and checking his pocket for his get out clause.
    “Well, it's amazing how er, motivated, my staff are some days.” Suit's face was an unreadable mask. Laisser could see straight away there was more to this man than just a bored office jockey.
    “It has been loaded on to my ship?” he asked.
    “Of course Mr. Laisser,” Suit smiled, “would you expect anything less of me?”
    Laisser stood up, tucking his hipflask back into a thigh pocket and making for the door.
    “Then you are no longer paying for my time. Good day.” He raised a hand to the door controls but was stopped by the sound of Suit standing up behind him.
    “Of course, Mr Laisser, there is nothing to stop me sending all the details of our transactions with you to the Aegis Syndicate, by way of Concord and the Federation Navy.” he announced, his voice snide and condescending. Laisser turned and walked back towards him.
    “And why would you do that? What would be in it for you?”
    “Promotion for one thing Mr. Laisser.” Suit pulled an ident card from his suit pocket and laid it gently on the desk. Even at arms length Laisser could see the Federation Customs holos. It was a set up, a damn sting.
    “I am definitely getting old.” he murmured to himself. Suit smiled like a serpent, his eyes fixed on Laisser.
    “You will come with me, your ship has already been impounded.”
    Laisser sighed heavily before reaching in to his pocket and removing a small, nondescript box from within. Pressing a stud on the side he placed it on the table as the Suit watched.
    “No stalling Mr. Laisser, cheap tricks will not save you.” The box whined suddenly, its tone building in pitch to a piercing wail before falling silent. The console on Suit's desk shut down with a harsh electrical buzz, along with the hidden recorder in Suit's hip pocket.
    “I think you may need something called evidence.” Laisser remarked before heading for the door.
    “And don't think the narcotics count. You didn't really think I gave you the details of my ship do you?”

    Behind him Suit seethed as the door hissed open.
    “Your people can't protect you forever Laisser!” he shouted. The mercenary turned back to the customs agent.
    “My people? I don't need people, I'm a capsuleer, I have something far better.” he said calmly.
    “Like what?!”
    “Me, agent. An endless supply of myself,” he smiled and left the office.

  • Pod and Planet 2013 Entry - Getting Old in EVE Communication Center

    +++++

    Disconnection, the hard way too. Never pleasant, and he was sure the seductive merc captain had taken some great pleasure from performing the duty herself. A single volley from her autocannons was the last thing he could remember before waking in the brightly lit med bay of Dr Estevan. He had left the black market on legs that wobbled treacherously under him, but had made it to the docking bays safely. Already the Aegis Syndicate would have been notified about the tragic accident in the cloning facility after a run in with some local pirates. It would not take long for their systems to delete him from the corporate records, and isolate or sell all his assets. Specifically the capsule and Moa class cruiser he still had in their hangar bays.

    Taking a local passenger ferry across to the Aegis station had taken precious time and now Laisser stalked through the pale blue corridors, relying on his memory to guide him through the vast complex. He held a touchscreen tile in his hands, pretending to flick through various pages of data when other employees passed. So far his new face was holding, and the copied ident badges were opening all the lower level security doors, but the real test would be to come. When he entered the labs proper, he would be around not only people who worked with Chief Researcher Alvent every day, but there was also the chance of running into the man himself. Although that little eventuality was planned for, Laisser mused, patting his pocket yet again to check the small, one-shot injector was still there.

    The lab entrance loomed ahead of Laisser and he reached out confidently to swipe his ident card through the reader. A moment of silence made his heart skip a beat before the heavy steel doors hissed and slid open. Walking quickly through the busy corridors he made straight for Alvent's office, nodding brusquely to the bustling lab techs as they hurried about the place.

    Researcher Alvent gaped in astonishment as he watched himself enter the office and pull something from his pocket. Laisser fired the injector, sending a needle cleanly into the man's neck as he crossed the room. Moving quickly he connected his portable console to the main data banks beside the desk as the scientist collapsed into unconsciousness behind him. Seeker programmes given to him by his employer flooded into the Aegis databases, automatically hunting down and copying vast amounts of information from the research division. Laisser shoved the unconscious body under his desk and moved back to watch the data transfer, his gaze flicking occasionally to the door. It was almost complete when the door opened and a young lab tech entered the room, holding a stack of printouts.
    “Dr Alvent, I have the morning's test results, you were right it....”
    A pang of guilt shot through Laisser as he pulled a silenced auto from his deep labcoat pocket and put three rounds through the woman's chest. Barely waiting for the data transfer to complete he grabbed the data tile and left, marching quickly for the docking bay. It wouldn't take long for someone to find the body. And even less time to notice a dead man's capsule and ship were missing.

  • Pod and Planet 2013 Entry - Getting Old in EVE Communication Center

    +++++

    Their glasses, refilled by the bar muscle, now sat untouched amidst a pile of data tiles and papers. Lacrimosa occasionally called in one of her officers to consult them over one detail or another, introducing them to Laisser briefly and sending them away again on errands or back to their duties. Laisser was beginning to see his payment would be worth it. The distractions aside, this was a highly driven woman, she wanted to know every detail of his planning that he was able to share, she wanted her own men to research Laisser's target and above all, she wanted to be there in person when Laisser made his escape.
    “You pay highly, you get the best,” she had said in explanation.
    “Good to know,” Laisser replied, picking up his glass and sipping the cheap, and now warm, rotgut.
    “Speaking of payment,” Lacrimosa sat back on her chaise, “You have been very vague as to how you are funding this. I do hope you aren't planning something stupid.” She flashed him another intensely seductive smile. Laisser gave himself another mental slap and called over to the barman.
    “I left a pair of cases with the bar owner, go and get them will you?”
    The goon scowled at Laisser, before looking over at Lacrimosa. She nodded towards the door,
    “Don't keep my guest waiting.” she snapped, sending him scurrying away.
    She rose and headed for the bar, mixing herself another cocktail with an experienced hand.
    “So, you are willing to go ahead with this?” she asked from behind the brushed steel bar top. “The podding I mean.”
    “I know the risks, but it has to be done,” Laisser shrugged simply. “I am being paid highly for my efforts, it would damage my reputation to give anything less than my all.”
    “Yes your reputation,” she replied, pouring her drink into a tall glass. “You mention it a lot but I still have not heard a name that it might belong to.”
    Laisser stood up, stretching out his back from the time hunched over the low table. Leaning down he picked up a small print reader from the table and headed for the bar.
    “You're on a secure network here aren't you?”
    “Of course.” the captain replied. Laisser placed the reader on the bartop and scratched briefly at his thumb. The thin film of a false print peeled away from his skin. He looked at Lacrimosa as he pressed his thumb to the reader. A holo monitor behind the bar that had been displaying some raucous local band flashed up a stack of red warnings, wanted banners, criminal flaggings and a whole host of known faces attached to the name Reno Laisser.
    “Satisfied?” he asked.
    “Yes, yes,” Laccrimosa replied, slightly stunned. “Your reputation precedes you.” She plucked the straw out of her drink and took a huge swig.
    “Good.” Laisser grabbed the metal cocktail mixer and smashed the print reader into fragments.
    “Can't be too careful.”
    “Well, quite,” she laughed, staring at the plastic debris covering the bar top. A flood of muffled music filled the room as the door opened and the barman re-entered, carrying two heavily reinforced cases. Laisser grabbed a case and swung it on to the bar, quickly entering the codes on the two heavy duty locks and flipping open the lid. Inside racks of small glass vials gleamed.
    “Soothsayer and Frentix, pure.” he announced, “I think there is enough there to keep your pilots gunning for a good month or so.”
    The barman moved behind the bar and retrieved a small scanning unit from behind a stack of glasses, running the sensor head over the vials as the unit beeped quietly. He nodded keenly to Lacrimosa.
    “Mr Laisser,” she announced, holding out a hand, “It appears we have a deal.”


    +++++

    Suit took a swig from the silver flask, his nose wrinkling in distaste, before handing it back to Laisser.
    “So local mercs got you in and out?” he spluttered, the alcohol burning his throat.
    “You could say that, yes.”
    Suit glanced at his console monitor briefly before continuing.
    “But actually getting your hands on this data? It cant have been as simple as walking in and taking it.”
    Laisser looked at him coolly, wondering just how much information the man was fishing for.
    “It was a bit messy I will admit.”
    Suit leaned forwards, resting his elbows on the desk and glaring at the mercenary over clasped fingers.
    “No deaths I hope?”
    Laisser shrugged.
    “None that matter.”

  • Pod and Planet 2013 Entry - Getting Old in EVE Communication Center

    +++++

    The lithe figure sprawled across a battered looking chaise in front of Laisser had clearly been altered, surgically and possibly on a genetic level. Almost impossibly beautiful, the mercenary captain was a vision, long glossy black hair hanging loose over her shoulders, piercing violet eyes, framed by heavy black makeup and full, amethyst painted lips. Wearing a simple black and red flight suit, unzipped nearly to her navel she certainly made an impression. No doubt a less focussed man would be tripping over his words within seconds at the voluptuous sights before him. But Laisser was here on business, and nothing ranked higher than business in his world.

    The back room of the private bar was almost comically over-done. 'Genuine' Matari clan graffiti covered the corrugated steel walls, and had no doubt cost the bar owner a fortune, although to Laisser's eye it was barely worth the paint. Hissing gas lanterns cast a flickering glow across the walls, bolstered by ultraviolet striplights. A small bar in one corner manned by a hulking local goon supplied the two mercenaries with drinks: a large measure of some local spirit that smelled vaguely of paint thinners for Laisser, and a sickly looking cocktail of layered green and yellow liquids for the merc captain. The UV light caused her drink, and a small rifter tattoo on her belly, to glow softly. Even Laisser had to admit that the woman certainly knew how to make an impression.
    “So, you've paid for my time Gallente,” she smiled, taking a sip of her drink through a silver straw, “What was it you wanted to discuss?”
    Laisser knocked back his drink and waved the glass over his shoulder to the barman, his eyes fixed on the Merc.
    “Before we get to that, I take it I am speaking to Lacrimosa?”
    The woman tossed her head back, laughly sweetly,
    “Who else would I be?”
    She sat up, a slender hand dragging up the zip of her flight suit to stop herself from falling out of her clothing as she leaned forward. Laisser gave himself a mental slap as he watched the simple gesture, instead of her eyes. The truth was in the eyes, that was one of the lessons he had learned over the decades, and any lapse could be fatal.
    “I am Lacrimosa,” she said, her voice now edged with ice, all trace of sweetness vanishing quickly. “Captain of the Death Jesters, and my time is hugely expensive, as well you know Mr - ?”
    “I need two things from you Captain,” Laisser replied, deliberately not answering her. “The second is a simple escort job, I will be expecting company, so I will pay you accordingly.”
    Lacrimosa sat back, raising a shaped eyebrow with a slight smile,
    “And the first?”
    “Simple.” Laisser now leaned forward, looking the captain straight in the eyes. “I need you to kill me.”

  • Pod and Planet 2013 Entry - Getting Old in EVE Communication Center

    Various medical scanners and equipment that Laisser barely recognized hung from the ceiling on adjustable arms, including a transnueral scanner and burner.
    “Impressive,” Laisser said quietly, as he took in the gleaming medical bay, smiling grimly to himself as he saw his inert clone hanging suspended in a tube of amniotic fluids against one wall.
    The mercenary nodded to himself, satisfied with the surroundings, and pulled a stack of cards, folded papers and data tiles from another pocket.
    “Clone insurance, medical records and ID Tags. I will leave these with you, have them ready for when I awake, I wont be around long.”
    “I can manage that.” The doctor quietly buffed his glasses on his coat sleeve, “And my payment? I assume ISK will not change hands here?”
    Laisser nodded, gesturing towards the small, touch-screen tile in the doctor's hand.
    “That tile also contains the lease to a storage unit in the docking bays. Inside you will find five uncertified corpses held in stasis, tissue samples are also on the data tile. I assume you will be interested in increasing your stocks of viable biomass?”
    “Always,” the little doctor smiled, “But I would like to run my own tissue tests to confirm what you have here.”
    “Fine by me, you have three days after all.”
    “Then we have a deal. I will see you when you wake up.”


    +++++

    “I don't even want to know how you came by the altered clone and the ID, Mr Laisser,” Suit sat back, steepling his fingers. “But something tells me they weren't just lying around.”
    “You'd be surprised how careless people can be with ID cards,” Laisser shrugged casually, not wishing to share more info than he had to. “Once you have that you can get anything you like.”
    “I will have to trust you on that.”
    Laisser nodded in agreement.
    “So, Mr Laisser, you're in, but how do you get the job done and get out,” Suit continued, “I am on the edge of my seat. So to speak.”
    Laisser pulled a silver flask from the breast pocket of his leather jacket and took a swig of stinging Caldari schnapps before continuing on.

  • Pod and Planet 2013 Entry - Getting Old in EVE Communication Center


    Laisser scratched absent-mindedly at the newly tattooed corporate logo on his cheek, the shield and laurels of the esteemed Aegis Syndicate. He followed the corporate flunky through the brightly lit corridors of the station, the metal walls freshly painted in sky blue with bands of different coloured lines guiding you to various locations throughout the immense structure. Laisser noted the colours and their locations carefully, taking a precise mental note of any directional signs and building up a floor plan in his mind as he walked. The capsuleer ahead of him continued to drone on about the corporation and his place within it, clearly this was a speech he gave a lot and had lost some passion for.
    “Of course as security personnel you will spend most of your time in your ship I have no doubt, Mr Caisson” the man continued, “But ahead on your right here are the main mess halls and bunk rooms should you need them.”
    “What's down there?” Laisser asked, keeping his tone casual as he pointed down a seemingly random corridor, the mapping lines down its walls a vivid red.
    “Research and Development, strictly forbidden and above your paygrade.” the flunky replied sharply.
    “Cool your retros, only asking.” Laisser replied with a smirk, his attitude and body language carefully oozing a typical, low intellect, merc bravado. The corporate man sighed heavily and carried on towards the mess halls, talking back over his shoulder as he walked.
    “Come on, you will need to see Fleet Commander Cols to sort out your hangar access codes.”


    +++++

    Suit looked down his nose at Laisser, his eyebrows raised in surprise as the mercenary unfolded his tale.
    “I am amazed you were able to gain such trust so quickly Mr Laisser,” he said with genuine surprise. “Most people in your profession would take many months.”
    Laisser raised a single eyebrow in return,
    “Most people aren't me.” He replied simply. “Besides, a week or so of scaring the Serpentis back into their holes is enough to impress miners and lab rats.”
    “Indeed,” Suit smiled primly. The rattle of the ceiling fan continued unnoticed by either man as the mercenary continued on with his exploits.

    +++++

    The bowels of the Zainou station were a noisy, bustling place, considering none of the vast crowd of people present were there legally. Although on a smaller, cheaper-looking scale the black market stalls looked much like the main bazaar deck, fifty floors above their heads. Hawking traders advertised the latest in biotech, shouting the benefits of their under the counter implants and stimulants. The waves of noise washed over Laisser as he shouldered his way through the crowd, approaching a familiar looking Matari man standing quietly beside a padlocked hatchway. The man didn't move aside as Laisser approached, instead resting his hand meaningfully on the holster of a hefty looking firearm at his hip. Laisser tossed a small metal token at the guard, who caught it deftly, examining the crudely stamped logo for a moment before pulling a heavy ring of keys from his belt and turning to the locked hatch.
    “You've got an hour, then the Doc Estevan is closed for business,” he grunted as he removed the padlock and shoved the sticking hatch open with a muscled shoulder.
    Laisser nodded to the guard before ducking inside. Dimly lit by flickering neon strips, the repurposed maintenance area was a mess of old equipment and tools, all piled in a heap against one wall to make space for a small desk and a console. A small, white coated man rose from his seat behind the desk as Laisser entered.
    “Ah, Mr Laisser, is it?” the man peered myopically at him for a moment before pulling a pair of heavy-framed glasses from his pocket and placing them on his nose.
    “I am,” Laisser replied simply, “You have received my delivery?”
    “Yes, yes, of course,” the man blustered about, rifling through a mess of paperwork on his desk before pulling out a bill of lading. “One fresh clone, transported in prime medical condition from the Defence Union warehouses in Intaki.”
    The hunched figure replaced the bill and looked at Laisser.
    “So you have a clone already, that narrows down my next questions rather. What is it you require of me?”
    “Surgery, cosmetic to be specific.” Laisser announced.
    “There are many other places that specialise in that sort of thing young man, why do you take the time and trouble to come to me?”
    “Because certain questions won't be asked.” Laisser answered simply. The doctor smiled.
    “I thought as much. Well my secrecy is guaranteed, I can promise you that. What precisely do you require? I noticed your clone has a polymer skull, so I assume it is a facial reconstruction of some kind?”
    Laisser fished an ID Card from his thigh pocket and handed it over.
    “I need to look like this. And I need it in three days.”
    The doctor stared at the small image for a moment.
    “Is this all I get to work from?” he asked, surprised at the quality of the image.
    “It doesn't need to be perfect, just good enough to fool at a glance.”
    The doctor sighed heavily, removing his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose.
    “Well that is something I suppose. Will you be activating it here?”
    “You have that facility?” Laisser asked, genuinely surprised by the grubby looking doctor.
    “Follow,” Estevan replied, turning and walking to the back of the filthy room. Entering a code into the controls of what appeared to be an ancient air conditioning unit, the doctor took a step back as a section of the wall swung inward. Bright light spilled out from within the hidden room and the doctor ducked inside. Laisser followed, blinking his eyes in the sudden harsh glare. The room beyond was scrubbed down perfectly, the smell of disinfectants and sterilisation fluids hanging heavily in the air. Two polished metal operating tables occupied the centre of the room.

  • Pod and Planet 2013 Entry - Getting Old in EVE Communication Center



    The distant thrum of the station's power plant filled the small office, punctuated by the plastic rattle of a badly fitting air-con fan in the ceiling. The office itself was fairly nondescript with plain walls of beige, powder-coated steel. The furnishings were simple, bulk produced affairs, no exotic woods or coloured plastics, just more painted steel. A single porthole window provided a view out over the bustling docking lanes, but the single desk faced away from it. The room's two occupants sat either side of the desk, one of them straight backed and stick thin occupying the padded leather chair behind the desk. He seemed out of place in this cheap, dingy office. An immaculate suit of black linen covered his tiny frame, finely tailored around his proportions and decorated with a pair of silver cuff-links in the shape of a skull. A delicate pair of pince-nez nestled on the bridge of his nose as he peered at the computer monitor before him, looking down his beak like nose at the streams of data flickering across the screen. Small, ferret-like eyes scanned the data, alive with intelligence as the man's gaze picked out all the pertinent details from the wall of figures, charts and images.

    The other occupant seemed at ease, barely noticing the surroundings, he lounged back in the cheap office chair, one leg thrown over the arm. His clothing was function over form, faded combat fatigues, covered by a hip length leather jacket. Small threads and patches of unfaded material marked where insignia and labels had been recently removed, matched by a livid patch of skin on the man's cheek where a tattoo had been removed. His features matched his clothing, battered and world weary. His eyes were vivid green and blazed out at his surroundings from beneath a cap of close cropped grey hair. Everything about the man screamed ex-military capsuleer. Which was precisely what he wanted people to think. Clone modification was technically illegal within the empires but cheap insurance policies and stolen ID's were not exactly difficult to come by in his line of work. Sure the surgery hurt, and cost a small fortune, but you couldn't put a price on a new face.

    Behind the desk the suited man removed the glasses from his nose and placed them on the desk beside him.
    “This is most impressive Mr. Laisser,” his voice calm and soft. “I am frankly amazed you were able to lay your hands on these,” he added, waving a slender hand towards the scrolling display before him.
    “Hands on is easy enough,” the man identified as Laisser grunted, his voice grating and hard. “It's getting out with your hands still attached that's the skill.”
    “Quite.” The slender man turned his attention back to the screen, replacing his glasses as he tapped away at a touchscreen keypad.
    “Your payment is causing us some problems however Mr. Laisser.” he announced, his attention still firmly on the screen. Laisser sat up and leaned on the edge of the desk, he had been expecting this.
    “We do not seem to have any accounts listed for you or your aliases.” The Suit continued.
    “That's because I didn't give them to you,” Laisser replied. “Do you take me for a fool?”
    “Why Mr. Laisser,” Suit put on a face of faux horror as he sat back in his chair, “The thought didn't enter my mind. However we do wish to pay you for your efforts of course, that may prove difficult without -”
    “Payment will be in narcotics, purity to be tested by myself.” Laisser interrupted rudely. Suit opened his mouth to reply but the mercenary cut him off.
    “I hear Drop prices are reasonable at the moment. I will give you three days to secure enough to cover my fees.”
    Suit sat back, his look of faux indignation fading to a knowing smile.
    “I heard you were one of the best Mr. Laisser, and I am delighted to find that for once I am not disappointed.” He tapped a few keys on the console before turning to the mercenary once more. “Two days, Mr Laisser, and you will have your payment.”
    Laisser stood up, slapping the desk with a hand as he did so.
    “Pleasure doing business.” he said as he turned for the door.
    “Just one thing.” Suit called as his hand reached for the door controls.
    “Would you mind telling me how you achieved all this?” He asked, his tiny eyes alight with malign interest. “Nothing that would give away your, aha, 'industry secrets', just the general gist?”
    Laisser shrugged and sat down again, after all they were paying well.

  • Pod and Planet 2013 Entry - Getting Old in EVE Communication Center

    Hey all, new entry for the Pod and Planet fiction contest, entitled Getting Old. It's a shady tale of thievery and skulduggery in the eve universe, wanted to try and make a corp thief seem a lovable character. No idea if I've succeeded, will leave that up to you fine people.

    Sorry but this will be spread over several posts, 6k character limit on a 5k word piece....bah! :p

    If you're bored here's my entry from last year, entitled Immortality Beckons.

    https://forums.eveonline.com/default.aspx?g=posts&m=2157961#post2157961

    Would just like to repeat, thats LAST YEARS entry, not this years. The following posts are for this year :)

    Anyways, enjoy...hopefully.

  • Contest: Predict the ATXI Winners! in EVE Communication Center

    1. Verge of Collapse
    2. The G0dfathers
    3. Rote Kapelle

  • Pod and Planet Contest Results! in EVE Communication Center

    Vipieris wrote:
    THIRD PLACE!!!

    I'm honored - thank you for this excellent competition and these excellent awards. I will try harder next time!!! :)



    I'd like to second that. Thanks to the devs, EON, EOH, SomerBLINK and everyone else who offered up prizes, judged or even just read and left feedback.

    Next time I'll bag me a first :p

  • "Immortality Beckons" [Fiction] An EON Competition entry. in EVE Communication Center

    Thanks for the kind words guys.

    Kalanaja, yeah I did take a small liberty there for dramatic effect, but I like to think that it fitted under the comp rules of 'bending but not breaking' :)

    Always nice to get feedback, thanks again guys.

  • Pod and Planet Contest Results! in EVE Communication Center

    Congrats Kaz...pipped me to the post lol.

    Seriously though thanks for 2nd Judges, proper happy with that =)

  • Good Luck to my fellow writers! in EVE Communication Center

    Thanks and good luck to you all too. My entry was the first thing I've written in a damn long time, was nice to blow the cobwebs off my creativity so to speak :p