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Tough Scrapes and Close Calls

Author
Constantin Baracca
Societas Imperialis Sceptri Coronaeque
Khimi Harar
#1 - 2013-09-04 02:40:39 UTC
Too often, I think we, as capsuleers, forget we have more in common than we are different. Something I have learned from my travels is that capsuleers always have great stories about cheating death. I thought we could share some!

My closest call came before I was a capsuleer, and indeed had I died that day I would have never known any of you. I was a bishop in my parish on Amarr, but I did have foreign duties. I was on my way in a family cruiser to meet a delegation to the Theology Council to attend a meeting on an addendum to the Book of Missions. The purpose of my journey is hardly important. What is important is that I was to transfer to a battleship convoy deep in Hedion to complete my journey.

Things started off well. We met the convoy, a battleship and a pair of destroyers, right on schedule and at the correct location. They sent us the proper codes and the DNA check revealed the pilots to be who they said they were. The battleship's captain followed all the correct protocols. Right when I had collected my luggage, though, he sent words that, to this day, chill me to the spine.

"Please tell Father Baracca to wait in the shuttle bay for us."

I stopped. No one calls me Father Baracca. My family is almost entirely made up of clergymen. 'Father Baracca' could refer to well over a hundred individuals. This is rather common in Amarrian society, where sons follow fathers into their professions. Any Amarrian would know to call me Father Constantin. Instantly, I knew we were outgunned and in the sights of hostile intruders.

I informed the crew, which spread general panic. A cruiser against a pair of destroyers and a battleship was hardly better than suicide, even that deep in our space. I offered to go regardless, to save the other men on the ship so that they could hopefully transmit for help when they had taken me. The ship's captain, to his credit, absolutely refused. We had mere minutes before my failure to transfer ships would become suspicious.

I asked the captain to rig up a DNA transponder with my blood. In the same way the would-be kidnappers had used the pilots they had killed to assume their identities, I decided to use the same technique. We needed to disable the battleship somewhat urgently. We loaded all of the extra fuel onto the shuttle, rigged its engines to overcapacitate on command, and sent it over. I informed them, through a linked channel, that I was late because I was having navigational difficulties. I would need to be towed into the battleship.

Things went according to our rather hasty plan for a time. They read my transponder, received my transmission, and began to tow me in. However, just as the shuttle was being towed into the bay, the battleship hailed me. It said it didn't detect me aboard. I must have fast-talked better than I ever had before, clearly impressing that I was aboard the ship, and that if they were having difficulty, perhaps we should call for another escort and shuttle.

They relented and drew the shuttle into their bay. Once aboard, we detonated the shuttle remotely. Being inside the hull, the shuttle did heavy damage to the battleship's structure. We took advantage of the surprise to press the attack, but the shock of war soon vanished. We were on our own and we were set upon by the enemy.

The fight took almost twenty minutes, our cruiser suffering heavy damage in the process. Luckily, the transgressors turned out to be Matari terrorists rather than the local terrorists I had become accustomed to. They had learned to fly our ships and spent a great deal of time stealing our codes and protocols, but did not have the finesse of a native laser user. To their credit, even when the battleship was destroyed (soon after the shuttle had crippled it), the destroyers fought on. They nearly had us, and seven of our crew died when the hull took heavy damage. I sustained a burn myself when a relay blew while I was attempting to take over for a dead targetting crewman.

We survived, though. We limped to the nearest station and reported the events. An investigation ensued and I missed the conference. To be honest, I was only thankful to be alive. It reinvigorated my faith, knowing that men like that cruiser crew were ready to die rather than allow me to sacrifice myself first at their expense.

I've had many closer calls as a capsuleer, but none more dangerous than the one which could have ended my journey permanently.

I'm sure you've all been near death or had to overcome overwhelming circumstances and we all love a good story.

I'll pour us all a round of cognac for story time.

"What good will it be for someone to gain the whole world, yet forfeit their soul? Or what can anyone give in exchange for their soul?"

-Matthew 16:26

Pieter Tuulinen
Societas Imperialis Sceptri Coronaeque
Khimi Harar
#2 - 2013-09-05 14:42:29 UTC
I have no recollection of any such incident, nor would I be disposed to discuss said incident, if indeed it had occurred.

For the first time since I started the conversation, he looks me dead in the eye. In his gaze are steel jackhammers, quiet vengeance, a hundred thousand orbital bombs frozen in still life.

Stitcher
School of Applied Knowledge
Caldari State
#3 - 2013-09-05 14:58:23 UTC
I was wounded in action twice during my Watch SWAT career. The first occasion involved a locus grenade that had been concealed inside a beam at head height and rigged to a pressure plate under the floor. My helmet held but the event resulted in the facial reconstruction scars and the metal plate in my cheek which were a prominent feature of my original piloting license portrait.

The other ended my career. I won't go into details, but there was an antivehicle pulse laser involved, one pulse from which hit me in the right leg, just below the knee. I woke up three weeks later when they decanted me from the tissue reconstruction tank with a new leg. I retired from front-line duty following that injury, retrained in trauma surgery and ATLS, went into the medical support corps, and it was there, after a few years, that my capsule compatibility was discovered and I was given leave to attend the School of Applied Knowledge

Between those two and the assorted exertion injuries, a minor stress fracture in my lumbar vertebrae and a rotator cuff tear, my first clone death relieved me of several sources of chronic pain.

Since becoming a capsuleer, I've put so many contingencies in place that even the two brushes with out-of-pod death wouldn't have had a much worse effect on me than being podded, had they succeeded.

AKA Hambone

Author of The Deathworlders

Silas Vitalia
Doomheim
#4 - 2013-09-05 17:02:13 UTC
I chipped a nail, once.

Ghastly.

Sabik now, Sabik forever

Isis Dea
Society of Adrift Hope
#5 - 2013-09-05 18:27:34 UTC
Perhaps the closest call I've lived through was the day I became a unofficial capsuleer. I was a slave recently sold to deep space Amarrian drug lord after my estate's Bishop considered me cursed after an event where his hounds should have killed me. After being abused relentlessly over the course of several months, feeling the strain of fewer vitoc injections as their wrath ensued, I finally snapped.

I took a small razor to the drug lord and three of his staff after locking them in the drug lord's office in the middle of the habitat. I can't remember how many blows I took, I couldn't see anything out of my left eye, I knew over six of my ribs were broken by the end of it. I remember crawling into a corner, throwing up strands of blood and bits of my own teeth, clutching a dented bloody chalice, trembling and my vision swimming. I was dying but the other four bodies in the room were already dead. I had won.

The next part's a blur. I remember the banging on the doors. I remember the lord's guard trying to cut into the room. I remember them snarling through the door, yelling what they planned to do to frail lil' ol' me. All I could do was smile, I knew I was already done for. I was in the middle of my victory lap, galloping around the bloodied face of the drug lord, and anyone else who wronged me in the past. Sure they all still lived and I was going to die still, painfully, but I had my moment; I had proven them all wrong.

I can't remember how long I sat there, warm blood soaking what little I was wearing, leaving me more and more cold. I just remember the sounds of gunfire and then they breached the door. Yet it wasn't the guards. They came in guns-first and stopped just inside the door, in awe. They looked like mercenaries. I remember the closest one calling his boss, telling him that the drug lord was dead and something about ending an operation. I remember him coming toward me, mentioning "we have ourselves a live one," and grabbing my hair as I was slumped over in the corner.

I tried to shove the dented edge of the chalice in the neck of the soldier. I managed to get him to let go and scream something over the radio. Someone struck me with a rifle butt. I remember laying on the floor for what seemed like ever before suddenly four of them dragged me out of the room.

I tried to fight them. My struggle was pointless with the blood loss. I was passing in and out of consciousness when I was brought aboard their ship. I remember the gruff face of a man with a scar over his right eye who gripped my jaw with searing pain and blew into my face, "I like you," a sneer with yellow teeth, "In time, you'll like me as well."

I didn't at first. I died after that. I was in surgery aboard his vessel when my vitals finally started giving out and so they rushed the last few steps and did a full brain spike with newly installed implants.

Twenty hours later I awoke for the first time in a new body. I didn't look anything like myself, I didn't feel like myself in the slightest, and I needed vitoc, badly. That's the funny thing about that drug, it doesn't stop just because you have a new body. Heck, your body might be free from the addiction, your mind isn't. That's how you know it's still you. That weak, frail, give-anything-for-another drop fool still craves what it can never have enough of.

For a month, I wanted nothing but that black ichor flowing through my veins again.

Then the gruff man with the scar came to visit me again, his teeth still yellow and a sneer that went from ear to ear. He told me I was his princess and had a lot of scores left to settle. He sat with me for days, prodding my past, learning of the hell I'd lived through to survive. He learned of the hounds, the Bishop, the family murdered at the hands of fellow Matari, he learned of my sister and her sacrifice, my long-gone friends and fellow slaves who did everything and still failed to protect me.

He did all of this while whispering a sweet substance blacker than finest vitoc injection: Revenge.

He told me I could dance again, he told me I now hold the keys to the stars and that my vengeance would tear the sky asunder. He whispered prospering in light of all that had come to me and the responsibility I had to those who were also sharing my shoes.

All I had to do was carry his banner and remember the gift he gave me on this day. I still remember. So many lives later, the thirst is anything but quenched and for each life taken, ten more stand to fill the void. There is no end to my bloodshed. But that is a story for another day.

You asked us for stories of close calls. That tale is my truest one. Escaping vitoc by becoming a capsuleer while on the verge of death is not something you can easily shrug. There are other tales too that only seem to pile on the responsibility of who I am, the burden I carry as an immortal.

There is the tale of the hounds which was mentioned above, but that's no tale for underaged young present here.

Another time (a true testament to fates worse than death as an immortal) and somewhat related to all this: I was caught inside a station by forces who were supposed to be my friends. Several vessels' crew and station staff managed to overcome me under the flying colors of meeting two of the ships' captains. This was the day that made me stop working for the yellow-toothed madman and mortals in general. What should have been a meeting, turned into a kidnapping, an act that should have ended with me never seeing the light of day for the rest of my days, subject to untold horrors that could be done to my clone.

Another time was my own crew after I dared to open my doors to them. I didn't notice them until it was too late and they were tearing me out of my own capsule while deep in a deadspace pocket. For close to three months, I was the vent of their hate for capsuleers while they tried to salvage or use my ship.

And people wonder why I'm not a happy person.

More Character Customization :: Especially compared to what we had in 2003...

Confliktus
Perkone
Caldari State
#6 - 2013-09-05 20:17:12 UTC
I'll take a wiskey if you please... 2 ice cubes.


Well i can recall an operation i was involved in after my long hiatus in Caldari Space...


One day i was setting up my industrial operations and reviewing charts and market prices, you know alot changes in the galaxy if you spend enough time away and one must take some time to get aquainted with the changes and reach out old contacts...


So one night i was sitting confortably in my quarters watching the traffic going by in Jita.. calmly enjoying my drink and looking at some news when my holocom blinked, i kinda wondered who could that be at the time but couldn't be bothered with answering so i just turned the call down.


A couple minutes later and a second wiskey already on its way came the second holocomm... this time i picked it up.. it was a very very old contact of mine aquired in the time i spent performing transport ops for a dubious organization wich i left later due to the fact that some of their members were involved in quite a bit more then the usual ship hijack business...


His voice came trough with what i recall a hint of hysteria.. you know these types that are always on the edge afraid of this and that.. or in other words way more then healthy paranoia.


" Doc! Doc! is that really you?! Good to see you man! Can really believe you're back! Man oh man you immortal types are really unpredictable.. i meen with all those rumours about you leaving the space lanes and ****... "


I close my eyes and sigh..


" Could you please calm yourself down? Get to the point , you are interrupting something important . " - that being the enjoyment of my drink.


" -Uh. yeh right, well .. uh i have a tip.. no no no . .. more then that.. a job, yeh thats right a job ... if you are willing to accept it that is right right.."


Now at this point i frowned.. this guy was what you can classify as somewhat of a nutjob.. but he was a nutjob with connections aquired God knows where ... and a relative good source of low profile jobs, trading and transport jobs for Corporations or individuals rich enough to pay you for bringin in goods into low sec regions of space.. still, and despite of all i couldn't record anytime in wich we comunicated to hear him with this edge of histeria on his voice..


At this point my voice analyser kicked in by comand and started running a trace for hints of lies, stress tests, wavelenght tests, background noise checks.. you know how it goes i'm sure...


< Stress levels high>

< Individual under Physical and Psychic pressure... Comparing profiles... >


< Wavelenght profile analysis ... Fobia... commonly known as Fear.. Stress.. Subject potentially under the effects of allucinogens. >


" And what kind of job would that be that you call so late... ? "


" Well i have this small time Corp, they are Caldari and they want someone caldari to fly into some lowsec systems near were you are and retrieve some cargo containers back to Jita. "


" Couple lowsec jumps and then its a smooth ride trough high sec"


Any low sec mission is hardly this easy so i asked a couple more questions, locations, where, how much, why.. the job didn't seem to be anything special, the usual i can't be bothered with or too afraid to go into lowsec after buying stuff without even looking where the pick up place is kind of job.


We agreed on the payment i gulped my wisky in one throw and went to bed.. i had preparations to make the next day.


My small fleet was small, composed of 3 ships, 1 low grade industrial cargo carrier, 2 cruiser sized heavy assault vessels, a fast mobile escort ,packing enough punch to send even a battleship scurrying away if need be plus a complement of 2 assault squads in each ship for security purposes, in low sec you never know what might happen after you dock at station.


The journey to the pick up system went by eventless.. everything when as it should be, it was not until that we docked at the target station that things started to go a bit on the wrong side.


" How you meen its not here? Then were are the containers?! "


" Uh dunno.. gotta ask Boss."


" And were is your "Boss" ? "


" Uh dunno.. gotta look for him."


- I sigh inwardly and right now if such a thing would be possible, the amiotic fluid inside my pod would be bubbling in expression of my fury at such incompentence


< Search Script run .. Subject Station Freighter Coordinator >

< In progress... >

< Coordinator Haritamotto located at Station Recreational Area.. Deck 107.A >


" Don't bother young man, I will speak to your superior in person "


" But.. "


< Medical, prepare my Clone for Neural Image transfer i am transfering >

< Medical Acknowledges >

< Script Run, Route analysis to Recreation Area Deack 107.A >

< Security Prepare Squads we are disimbarking >

< Security Acknowledges >

< Route Script Transfering maps to neural feeds >


The route hat 2 ways, a more open and vast main avenue and some side access, also more inconspicuous..


< Security, combat armour, issue rebreathers , combat shotguns and flamers, prepare my suit i'm coming along on this one >


So a good hour later i was out in my other body and still a bit buzzed from the transfer, with me was the security detachment fully suited and ready to disimbark.


Our first look of the access areas was one of surprise and aprehension... the station was somewhat littered with garbage and no one was to be seen.. the young man that was earlier on comms with me stood there with a somewhat unsettled expressing while he waited and as he saw our group his that expression along with his face expression turned from nervousity to genuine fear and paleness...


" Uh.. Boss says.."


" We know were your Coordinator is, stand aside and let us pass "


( Continued on next post )
Confliktus
Perkone
Caldari State
#7 - 2013-09-05 20:18:17 UTC
With that the young office stood aside and allowed us passage.. not that he had much of a choice on the matter, and we proceeded into the side corridors into the recreation area.


The air in the side corridors was stale and damp, i could almost taste the chemical residue of the air purifiers on my tongue..


" Rebreather masks up gentlemen, keep all eyes peeled "

The Team was business as usuall, in the close confines of the side corridors we had the impression we were walking trough the slums of some industrial world, the people that usually passed by were dishevelled figures, some even wearing rags for clothing, one such bumped into one of our team.


" Hey watch were ur goin' you.. "


Suddenly he looked up to only to stare at the pilot flame of a flamer gun


" Uh.. you aint from aroun' here "


" Move along citizen. "


With that the man went scurrying away, 15 minutes later and a couple hundred meters march we hit the "Recreational Area", a drunkard pit.. indeed a strange place to find a higher ranking officer passing his time.


I went in the 2 soldiers, the rest of the team took positions outside securing our way out, as we came in the room went suddenly silent.


" I am looking for Coordinator Haritamotto" - i say behind my mask


All eyes went to a separate table, a group of 4 men had been drinking and enjoying the company of 2 strippers... one of them seemed awfully out of place in that slump rat of a bar.


This could only be our station officer..


" Wadda ya want here? **** off" - says one of the men, a bull of a guy with gang tatoos , his hand strayed to his gun holster.


One of my men levelled the shotgun at his face, - " no so fast friend, hands were i can see them, now! " , - he says levely.


" Station Coordinator we need to chat.. in private ", - i say.


The man regained somewhat of his composture and after a quick chat he tells me that the container shipment had been re-routed to a settlement in system, he seemed to actually be relieved to be away from the other 3 men so i asked him if i should escort him back to his station or to his quarters, in the end we took him with us much to the disgruntled protests from his "companious", not that that mattered, having a flamer and a shotgun pointed at you point blank will dismiss any further escalation of the situation.


As we stood by the access hatch to our ship the Coordinator said wearily.


" You people seem to be able to handle yourselfs but watch out, these guys, they aint from around here, i think their criminals, from other regions i meen.. you know.. "


I turned and changed glances with my Sergeant, his stern expression conveined the same questions i had in mind, wo where these people.. certainly not caldari, their were Amarr from origin that was for sure, smugglers or worst.


I found myself wondering just what type of cargo i would be having transfered into my ship, and what kind of Corporation had dealings with such people.


Our small fleet undocked and we proceeded to the meeting point, some deadspace location in system, away from all stations or planets, before rendez vous i had my Cruisers at standby ready to warp in place, in case this was a setup, just in case things went sour.


Our industrial vessel warped in and was greeted by two destroyer class vessels of caldari build, then suddenly my cruiser was hailed.


" Mortis Probati and Gundog, identify yourselves, purpose and destination "


Now how the hell did this settlement had the meens to scan us...


We responded and stated our purpose, in returned we were invited to dock with a small ship array, i transfered my clone again and suited up to meet the person hailing us on comms.


" Well met Citizen, we are a friendly settlement, i trust you are here to pick up these containers yes? "


3 Large Sealed and Secured containers, each with atmospheric control units buit in I noticed.


" Whats in there? "


" Only livestock, genetically enhanced livestock, or geneticists are working on a new breed of cattle that produces triple the ammount of protein in about half the time without losing quality".


Now that was something, livestock that can produce protein at 3 times the rate of regular cattle... thats something most Corps would be willing to get their hands on.. the only tought that lingered in the back of my mind was.. why didn't they send their own ships here?


Suddenly a maid appeard with tray and some beverages.

( Continued on the next post )
Confliktus
Perkone
Caldari State
#8 - 2013-09-05 20:19:10 UTC
" Milords, care for some refreshment? "


" Go away my child now is not the time. " . - the overseer, aparently that was the man's ranking sent the girl away with a wave of his hand, the term Milord, overseer and the look of the maid, minmatar from origin told me that more was happening here then mere Livestock experimentation.


" You have slaves? ", - i ask casually


" No mere house servants, slavery is somewhat frowned upon in these parts, still one needs to maintain a certain level of luxury and service, old customs."


The look on the girl, the collar on her neck and the hint of scars in her body told my that she was something more then a mere "servant"


My men were also uneasy, the look of the warehouse in wich we where was one of a prison camp, cameras, security laser turrets, more then enough vent openings on the walls so suggest that not only oxygen could be pumped into the room in large quantities, but what made us uneasier was the look of the warehouse crew, all with gang tatoos or with a glazed look on their eyes, as if they were on something.


Suddenly i get a call from one of my Techs in the Industrial ship


" Chief, i have something to report. "


" Go ahead. "


" Chief the cargo manifest states we are loading livestock but if this is livestock then i'm the Holy Emperess dancing half nacked in the pleasure hubs from Rens to some matari tribal tune."


" Mister Ixum get to the point please ", - i said supressing the mild amusement in my voice.


" Well the way i see it, Cattle needs oxygen and a stable temperature to breathe, but here the containers are compartimented, in much smaller blocks, from my readings, its 20x20m blocks with a centrail passage in between.. and our Thermal Scans are being blocked from inside."


" Ixum are you sure? "


" Yep, 100 pro, whatever we are loading isn't cattle, its alive but it is not cattle."


The Overseer was regarding me with a strange look on his face, i looked at him eyes half narrowed my expression concealed by my mask.


" Good Sir, is there something i should know about my cargo? Any special considerations ?"


The Overseers face distorted with half a smile, his teeth glinting under the projector lights of the warehouse


" Noone at all, rest assure your cargo will not trouble you in anyway possible "


With that i traded some more words of no consequence with the overseer and went about my business to check on the industrial crew and our cargo


" Ixum, can you bypass the block? "


" Already on it Chief."


Ixum was one of my earlier recruits, we knew each other for some good 3 years now, even when i went for my prolongued vacation we remained in contact Ixum apraising me from time to time about the state of the galaxy.


" These are some strange readings, i'm getting warm bodies, human bodies, but.. they aren't moving, each cell has about 6 of them crammed in there. And Chief.. i'm getting aditional readings from that central chamber.. corridor, seems that something is using a whole lot of power in there also, not just the clima units."


By this point i had the distinct impression i was dealing with slavers... something just didn't seem to add up, i decided that a change in plans was in order.


" Ixum, get a secure link up to Concord and ask our contact there for some info on our contractors and that Station Officer. " , meanwhile i oppened up a channel to my combat team.


" Gentlemen, it seems that our contractors are not being straight foward with this whole deal, we may be dealing with slavers working under the cover or possibly hat request from some unknown entity. Stay frosty but don't make any rash decisions, report anything unsual to your Sargeant or directly to me. "


The usual acknowledgment signal came, suddenly the Maid was there again acompanied by one of the Warehouse crewman, a burly Amarr that regarded me with an expression that would make some people shiver in their pants.


" Milord, the Overseer says that all cargo is aboard, he expresses his upmost gratitude and wishes you a safe and uneventfull travel."


" Send my regards to the esteemed Oveseer young lady."


As i was about to turn the Maid said, - " Milord, God watch over you and protect your soul from the predations of evil men."


As i turned around and was about to ask the Maid what did she meant with it the young girl was already going away at a fast pace.


" Ixum, anything from Concord yet? "


" Nothing so far, we're prepped and ready here. "


" Ixum, my security Team will reinforce the other aboard the Void Runner, be on watch."


With that our preps were made and i found myself transfered again into my pod.. detachment from the settlement went smoothly and we were halfway in warp when all of a sudden both our 3 warp engines failed.


< Anomaly, Warp Transit interrupted.... Safeties online >

< Incoming comms, Concord Bureau >


In that moment the Concord mail that was projected directly into my mind sent shivers down my psychic spine...


<<< Be warned, contractors from Amarr origin. Using smugglers and diverse land / station personell. Ties to kidnappings around Minmatar, Caldari, Gallente Space. Ties to Blood Raider criminal Organization. Comms End. >>>

( Continued on the next post )
Confliktus
Perkone
Caldari State
#9 - 2013-09-05 20:20:01 UTC
Well well.. i couldn't say i was surprised, the only part i didn't like in the least bit was the fact that ties to the Blood Raiders were mentioned.. and that at the exact same point of transmition all our 3 ships warp cores were interrupted by external forces.


Sudenly 2 small ships warpin followed by another with bigger, way bigger dimensions...


< You son of a bi.. >

" You son of a bi... " ,- in my surprise i gave voice to my toughts trough the ships speakers


" Destroyer class ships aproaching ", cried one crew member.


" Battleship inbound, Apocalypse Class ", said another.


" Its the .. wait, this can't be right, Blood Raider signature and markings, we're being hailed!"


Great.. just great, somehow i didn't thing this little interruption happened by mere luck.


<< Greetingsss, little morselsss, surrender yourselves / Comms interrupted >>


" The Destroyers are going for the Void Runner! Battleship powering up main guns, we've been targeted "


< Activate shield hardeners, aquiring targets >

" Activate shield hardeners, aquiring targets "


At this point feedback from my mind was being relayed to the ships voice comms.


< Transmit to Gundog, turn about and engage destroyers, Void Runner evasive maneuvers, security teams to defensive positions. >

" Transmit to Gundog, turn about and engage destroyers, Void Runner evasive maneuvers, security teams to defensive positions. "


In that moment my vision went completely white, if i wasn't seeing the whole battle trough my neural links i'm sure i'd be visiting the next doctor for occular implants...


" The Raider Battleship is firing, brace for impact! "


< Warning shields overloaded >

The crumpled sounds of an explosion could be heard as direct hit from the Raider's guns overloaded our shields with such force that one should pierced the shields and scored a glancing shot in one of our nacelles..



< Hull breach detected >

< Closing blast shields / All Personell evacuate sector decks 12 to 14 >


< Everyone don rebreathers, maintenance teams to affected sectors >

" Everyone don rebreathers, maintenance teams to affected sectors"


< Drone launch interrupted.. launch bays blocked >


< Gundog we need your drones to assist, send ECM drones out, hurry up with those Destroyers >


As i relayed the order i could see the acknowledgement blick on my minds eye, the Gunddog, a Deimos Assault ship accelerated even further to atack position and i could see its turrets spooling up and preparing to shoot the first destroyer. Meanwhile my own ship, a Heavy Assault Cerberus class Cruiser was sporting some serious damage, our first salvo was twarped by counter rockets sent from the Blood Raider Battleship and our drone bays were blocked.


The next second another explosion took place, the Destroyer was hit amidships by all of the Gundog's blasters, internal explosions could be seen and the ship broke in two, venting its atmosphere and crewmen into the void of space.



The second destroyer had suceeded in launching shuttles and was coming about when a direct hit from one of the Gundog's Neutron Cannons hit it directly in the bridge area.. suddenly the ship was moving directionless until the ship started breaking apart from within.. internal explosions visible in the distance.


Meanwhile the ECM Drones had starting to do their work, my only worry now that order to my ship had been estabelished was to get into an advange position above the rearwards section of the Blood Raider Apocalypse , the Gundog was already burning at speed to assault from bellow.


< Missile Launchers reloaded, firing solutions locked, firing... >


The Raiders trusted in gigantic armour repairers to keep them going, having bypassed their shields it was now a matter of bringing enough force to bear in order to disable the gigantic ship.

< Blood Raider vessel jammed >


At that moment 2 lances of bright light glanced our shields without doing any particular damage, the Gundog had shut down their Microwarp Drive and was relying on its momentum to evade the remaining Blood Raider guns, suddenly one of our salvos had disabled the Battleship, the whole payload detonating in its rearward Reactor Exausts and sending a plume of atomic fire out, the lack of oxygen extinguishing the fire almost at once, lingering flames attached to the ship futtered from venting oxygen coming out of multiple hull breaches.


< Blood Raider vessel targeting us >

< Damn it, we need one more cycle > , - i tought.


" Brace for impact, incoming fire ", - screamed a bridge officer, his face half burned from the explosion of a secondary screen.


The impact sent most of the crew reeling, i myself felt it as if someone hat hit me with a bat as the shielding took on the full of force of the Beam guns. The same moment the Gundog managed to score multiple hits on the battleship's underbelly, secondary explosions from its dronebay visible and some other array.



Sudenly we started picking up incoming signals,

( Continued on the next post )
Confliktus
Perkone
Caldari State
#10 - 2013-09-05 20:20:40 UTC
" Incoming ships , battleship class! "


" Scorpion Class ! Its the Navy! "


<< By the order of the Caldari State you are to stand down and prepare to accompany us to the next navy outpost >>


The Raiders either ignored the direct order or where too high on whatever drugs make them tick to comply.

Two full Laser volleys were fired in the general direction of the incoming Scorpions to no avail on the Raider part.

The Gunddog pulled away to avoid the explosion radious of the incoming missile salvos launched from the Scorpions.

In minutes the Blood Raider Apocalypse was turned into a flaming wreck by the combined firepower of our ships and the Caldari Navy patrol.



< Void Runner Status? >


" Point defense held out, all boarders K.I.A. "

" Medics are already working on the wounded. No losses reported. "

< Good job boys, drinks are on me >

<< Incoming Coms: Here is Captain Izogumi, you are to be escorted to the next Navy Outpost. Resistance will be met with extreme prejudice. >>


< Captain, here is the Mortis Probati, we will assume our positions in formation, prepare to receive flight logs >


<< Roger that, receiving logs. >>


We were taking stock of damage and counting the dead and wounded on my ship , while being escorted by the Scorpions back to the Caldari outpost, i could not stop thinking how the heck did they know we where there in that pocket of space, i assume that some inter system readout picked up the discharge of our weapons or the explosions.. perhaps the combination of both.. or in last case, the transmissions where intercepted. In times of war no one can be sure.


When we came into comms range of the Outpost our ships where hailed, another incoming transmission.


<< CONCORD COMM. Agent Salus, Captain of the Mortis Probati, cargo not safe, assume goods highly volatile. Caldari authorities are informed. I will be awaiting you on station. >>


At once i raised comms with the Void Runner,

< Captain, hows the status on your ship? >

" So far everything's normal, cargo status nominalr*rsshhs* ..othing *rshsh Report "

< Void Runner. whats happening >


Later after reviewing the recordings from the surveilance cameras i found out that our cargo was much more dangerous than expected.



<<< Camera Surveilance Feeds Running.... >>>

" Techmaster Ixum report "

" Ixum here, massive powersurge coming from the cargo freighters, they are draining our capacitor! .. What the f... "

" Ixum you there?! Ixum report! "

< Security teams to cargo hold Class I Thread detected... >

< ... >

< Security breach in Engineering reported... >


As i looked on trough camera feeds and trough the built in cameras on the security teams shoulders and helmets i could exactly watch the full extent of my error in accepting this contract.

Suddenly the lights in the corridors were dimmed to a red hue , emergency lighting kicking in, my security teams eschewed high powered assault rifles for close quarters shotguns and flamers, some where using energized machetes, weapons coated with an energy field and powered by small batteries.. a smal fortuned was payed to aquire these weapons since most were deemed illegal tech due to the fact that other then slicing trough armour and flesh they also delivered an electric current to the targets body making it suffer excruciating pain.

In my opinion such weapons were a bonus, altough somewhat gruesome i'll grant you , but as far as experience demonstrates the pain inflicted by these weapons is so far a small fraction of the pain that most of the men cut down by them inflicted upon their victims.

Like the saying goes.. what goes around, comes around or.. you reap what you sow.


Suddenly one of my Sargeants enters the Engeneering decks and gets knocked down by a massive blow... a massive man in full body armour had just hit him in the side of the head with a chemical fire extinguisher. Were it not for the helmet his head would have been reduced to a bloody smear on the ground.

The next soldier coming up behind him dozed the Sargeant's assailant with a burst of the flamer, the man screaming first in rage... afterwards in agony.

As the team moves foward a scene of horror follows... some of the Engineers are dead eviscerated, their entrails spread accross the floor.. in the dim red light the whole scene makes for the perfect set for a horror movie adding to it the sound of the wounded.


" God damn you.. you want a piece of me you slump scum!? Come on! " ,- Ixum was screaming histerically while trying to repel 2 assailants with a fusion cutter.

The team comes from behind only to find two more armoured soldiers heading towards my Chief Engineer..

( Continued on the next post )
Confliktus
Perkone
Caldari State
#11 - 2013-09-05 20:21:27 UTC  |  Edited by: Confliktus
Two shotguns roar, the soldiers turn around, most of the impact dissipated by the body armour.

A scream of rage , almost animalistic ensues coming from one of the Raider soldiers.

Both forget Ixum and launch themselves in a frenzy against the two Security team helping Ixum.

The head of the first explodes in mess of gore , blood and brain matter splattering the facemask of the my security soldier.

The second one is fighting a one on one , the Raider trying to prey the eyes of the soldier, ignoring completely the fact that he's using a facemask.

A knife is drawn.. the soldier looses a garbled scream, blood bubbling up his throat, the knife piercing between plates and puncturing a lung.

The first soldier turns to help and he suddenly attacked by a third unseen assailant, a Slaver Hound jumps on his neck, an arm is raised in defence.

" Bastard! Argh.. ! "

Ixum almost slips on the brain matter scattered around the floor in his hurry to help the soldier, his fusion cutter falls.

" Hurry up man! "

In between both soldier and Ixum stands the second Raider , Ixum looks at the cutter, the Raider kicks it away and starts walking slowly ...

Ixum closes his eyes..

The Hound looses a gasp, a roar intermingled with a wince of pain coming out of lungs that are cut trough while the rest of the blade that pierces it severs its spinal column.

The Raider looks behind only to look at the tip of a blade before it punctures its forehead in between the eyes... its eyes roll on its sockets as the blade pierces cleanly trough its brain.


" Th.. th.. thank you. " , - Ixum looses a relieved sigh.

Both men shiver, along the section the bark of more Hounds and the woosh of flamers can be heard.

Men scream, shotguns roar, lifes are ended in the space of seconds.



Meanwhile the other team enters the cargo bay. All containers are arranged side by side, the emergency lighting here is failing, one access hatch to the first container is open.

Suddenly an unearthly scream pierces the silence of the hold.

" Sgt. Maximus here, spread out, back each other up, by twos, one covers the other advances"

Suddenly more Hounds race trough the space in between the Security team and the opening hatch, some trampling over the other in the opening.

" Prepare for close quarters, blades out, flamers at the ready "

As i continue to watch, this time from above i see the position that my men took allows the flamer carrier soldiers to overlap fields of fire, the woosh of the guns covers the forward area in a 180° arc.

" Area clear " , - says Maximu's second.

" Forward, cover the entrance, prepare to enter, use maximum caution ".


As the team enters the container an eerie scene confronts Maximus and the team, crio caskets are opened, in the side cells the muffled cries of captive men, women and children are heard.

One of the soldiers looks trough the viewport from one of the cells..

" What in the seven hells.. Sarge! "

The scene that follows could perfectly match another horror story.. inside the cell some people are lying on the ground with tubes and seringes laying around and over their bodies.

Some appear to be drugged, others dead, aparently exsanguinated, the tubes following to wicked looking machines.


The whole containers looked like some high tech lab from within, furnished with what appeared to be high tech medical instruments, in the middle a subzero freezing compartment, the whole of the containers climatized and hermetically sealed.


The team moves trough the first two containers without much resistance, the second set of cryo caskets are still closed, in some evil looking men with tatoos and fangs, implanted teeth to give the individual a bestial appearance, lie dormant, in others Slaver Hounds.. strangely these hounds appear diferent from the first, smaller, yet implant scars are displayed all over their bodies...

The team prepares to move as the thrum of the internal container generators and the ships engines in general is pierced by a scream of utter abject horror, a scream coming from the deep of the soul chilling my men's souls to the core.

So infused with suffering, that Sgt. Maximus's shiver involuntarily, Maximus itself looks in the direction of the third connection airlock, the 3 Containers linked trough overtures on their sides to allow techs, or med personell to pass in between sections withouht having to go outside... whatever the original destination of these containers might have been.

Eyes narrowed Maximus gestures for his team to follow, once they enter the third compartment the team are greeted by 3 figures, the central one holding a woman by the throat, his blade piercing her straight trough the stomach.. the woman gurgles, her eyes turn in the direction of the soldiers.. her pleading eyes look straight in the direction of Maximus.. tears flowing trough them.

The other two men aren't wearing any tatoos, unarmoured but sporting high powered assault rifles, further back a huge Slaver Hound feeds on the entrails of a man while another drags a screaming child by the ankle, its vicious theet almost separating the foot from the rest of the leg.. the foot itself hanging by a tinny lingering portion of flesh and skin.


The man holding the woman dropped her allowing the body of the now lifeless corpse to slide down the blade, opening the wound spliting the flesh and bone between the chest cavity until it reached the tip and crumpled to the ground with a wet thud.

3 things happened in a fraction of seconds afterwards.

( Continued on the next post )
Confliktus
Perkone
Caldari State
#12 - 2013-09-05 20:21:44 UTC  |  Edited by: Confliktus
The man leveled a high powered laser pistol in the direction of Maximus his finger pressing the trigger almost in an instantanious faction, the second man let loose a volley of shots , while the third jumped to the cover of a control unit near the wall and pressed a button...

2 caskets opened and the growls of more 4 more hounds were heard, following cries of agony and at the same time a roar.

Maximus jumped to cover, the man behind got hit by the laser shots that trespassed him from end to end.

The security team split, the men already inside the section jumping to whatever cover they could find while the rest took positions behind both sides of the door hatch.

The hounds came out the caskets, their dimensions altering themselves, later i found out due to the work of drugs and regulator implants previously implanted inside the bodies of the animals, elevating the metabolism to almost toxic levels and granting the creatures an hormonal spike that canibalized their fat and protein reserves in order to produce more muscle mass.. while brain implants stimulated their agressiveness to that of ravening beasts.

Both sides were now trading shots, the dead soldier lying at the hatch and another hit in the shoulder and left lung lay slumped against the wall blood pooling at the ground.

The aparent leader of the Raiders held up a seringe against his neck and with a quick motion pressed the needle point against his skin... moments after droping it his eyes rolled on his sockets and the man let loose a bestial scream, eyes bulging red with thick fat arteries pulsing at the sides.

" Blinders out ", - said one of the soldiers

A small sun iluminated the room allowing the soldiers time to move from cover and the ones on the other side of the hatch to come into the room.

Maximus sprinted up to the raving lunatic, both men holding blades in one hand while the rest of the soldiers and hounds engaged in a small but frantic battle.

The acrid smell of blood and chemicals pierced through the rebreather filters of the soldiers masks.

Both raving Raider and Maximus now fight one on one, thrusting, parrying, lunging against one another.

For a brief moment both men circle each other measuring up their oponent.. then in a moment the Raider throws himself fowards, his blade coming up in a upwards arch. Maximus allows both blades to meet and his oponent's blade slides against his own, sparks flying.

The Raider is bigger then Maximus, but the Sargeants armour confers him some addtional strenght.

Maximus looses a knee blow to the other men's groin, the man buckles itself in pain, the blow hard enough to pierce trough the narcotic haze possessing the other man. The Raider grabs Maximus around the waist, all toughts about his knife and the fight forgotten.

Maximus brings his elbow down on the other man's head, the man slumps to the ground going on one knee, Maximus holds his knife and lunges its tip against the Raider's breast.

The Raider lets out a gasp of pain and the blade pierces trough his breast , an electric charge is dispensed along the blade and into his body.. before the Raider has any more time to agonize Sargeant Maximus holds the man's head up one foot on his shoulder thrusting him backwards.

Before the Raider's body slumps back fowards the roar of my Security Sargeant's sidearm is heard twice blasting two clean holes in the other man's chest and left eye socket.

The fight was over, men were dead or dying, some gravely wounded.



As i reviewed this footage along with Agent Salus and the Caldari Authorities i've learned that my contact was found dead, presumably skinned alive and exsanguinated.

According to the Agent's informations after the outbreak of the war between Factions an organization of undisclosed nature resorted to kidnap people from around the various warzones troughout the galaxy.

To what end it remained to be discovered but with the discovery of the cargo containers i was supposed to deliver the investigations would take a huge jump forwards.

Agent Salus added that it was not a simple case of Blood Raiders, later on days after the incident i received a message from him stating that the Blood Raider affair was definately a coverup for some Corporation that was performing illegal experiments on subjects, to what end he didn't disclosed.

In the end i have to say that was one of the most messy and complicated affairs i have ever experienced in my life here in New Eden and thanks to my crew did i survive.

We took our time to recover and perform repairs, the whole affair had let some of us shaken to the core.. especially Maximus's team and poor Ixum.

The promised rounds of drinks were given out and well.. i'm alive.


Even as i told you this story gentlemen i can assure you of one thing, this universe is full of beauty, but also plenty of evil lurking in the hearts of men.

Heck i could drink all the Wisky in the world and still i'd shiver to this tale.


Anyways, can any of you gents pass on the Cigar box ?
Saber1
Federal Navy Academy
Gallente Federation
#13 - 2013-09-05 23:58:41 UTC
Did you really have to write a novel here? Ugh

Tough scrape? There was a pinch my wingman and I got into a few years back. Mind you, we both fly Federation tech to whole new level. I personally like(d) to field a Megathron and my buddy flew a Myrmidon built for tanking like a boss. We're cruising through the Tama pipe (in the much older days of Sniggwaffe's rule, pre-Tuskers, post-GURIS) and wingman starts flying through the belts.

I parked on a gate to some lowsec, I forget which now. Which each belt, I'd start my aligning ahead of time toward his cluster. Being a double-plated Megathron, my align time is slow and needs a good forewarning.

Sure enough, wingman doesn't get halfway through the belts before a Vagabond lands on him at range and points him down.

I curse, neither of us have the speed to catch a Vagabond.

He starts microwarpdriving toward my gate, telling me he's ****** if we can't push this heavy assault cruiser off him. I warp to him at 70km. Since I'm already in system, there's no local spike.

Three additional tech-1 cruisers cruisers land on him, equaling for a Vaga + 2x Rupture + Omen vs. Myrmidon + Megathron.

Goodbye any chance of pushing off the Vagabond, it's pretty certain that we're both fixing to die. Wingman lights up the closer Rupture not stopping his burn toward my eventual warp-in point, but unfortunately he gets scrammed and webbed before he gets anywhere close.

I land. I'm 57km away from Wingman, the trio of cruisers, and this orbitting Vagabond (who I'm sure is about to bee-line it straight for a 20km orbit and point me).

The smartest move is to try and get out, let them get the battlecruiser instead of the battleship.

I don't. Something about wanting to not leave the Wingman to die alone. At least I had insurance, I thought ...and perhaps another gamble.

See, this also comes from a time when Gallente were the kings of droneboats, my prized Megathron boasted a 125m3 drone bay. Normally people fill this bay with Ogres, Sentries, or possibly stuff it with several drone sets. Me? I'm a Gallente pilot, I know my guns kill anything when they make their range. Sporting Void L and backed by double Magstabs in the lows, god help any poor bastard I could hit. Yet I needed to be able to hit them.

I was packed full with 5x Berserker Stasis Web Drones.

See, this Vagabond is burning for a jam as I'm locking and Overloading my micro, web, and scrambler for the guy. He's burning through 40km and his computer's telling him nothing but sweet nothings that he's going to keep range with me. He's headed straight for a 15-20km orbit judging by the steepness of his approach.

The drones come out as my lock is landing with guns primed to get a single shot off, then I cancel them. I'm out of range, the shot misses but the drones are already burning toward the gun. He points me, panics, makes his orbit fine except the drones start catching him.

Then my web lands, followed my now-in-range scrambler.

Drones return to bay, I keep my micro active to keep my range with him. At 5-7km, the guns have no issue hitting him. I overload them for good measure, 800 dps of good kinetic tears through this f*cker's shield like a hot knife through butter.

Boom goes the vaga. Drones are already headed for the Omen. I keep burning toward Wingman. He's at 25% armor, they start putting distance. I help finish off the first Rupture, I land points on the second. Wingman's into hull. Omen's kiting me now.

His mistake, Wingman's moving out in anticipation.

Omen swings around into Wingman's now-free and microwarpdriving range.

Points on Omen. Boom goes Rupture. Wingman's at 13% Structure.

Local spike. Screw the loot.

Talk about close calls.
Red Roman Joringer
Pator Tech School
Minmatar Republic
#14 - 2013-09-06 00:04:02 UTC
I don't talk on this thing, but ConBee wanted me to tell this story.

I was working with a few goons on a long-term project. Principle was a wispy thing, but she needed something done and done quietly. She was the lone cash flow, so we got worried when she went to pick up a couple things we needed and didn't come back. Real quick worried. Like, I was gone to find her about two hours after she didn't come back. You need to keep track of the loose ends in this business.

Anyway, I followed her warp trail to this kind of weird red planet in our wormhole space. I'd have called that a mistake, but if I hadn't gone, she'd have already been dead. System was kind of unstable, and I followed her trail until it dipped into the atmosphere. I suddenly got a rescue beacon and did a quick sensor sweep. Saw that there were a couple pieces of tritanium on the planet where they shouldn't be. I figured that somebody down there had survived and started figuring out a way to get planetside and back.

That's when the **** really hit the fan. I'm running a sweep when the gravity of the planet starts to well. I'd never seen anything like that in my life. No joke, within a minute, the gravity from the inside of the planet doubled! I'm turning tail to scurry when the planet drags me down. Almost spun the drive down. Figured that if I wasn't getting out, I'd want to set down near the rest of the wrecks. Least I'd have something to work with there.

The landing wasn't pretty. Rocky formations were sort of sparse over a rust field. Whatever was going on in the planet, it fried the warp drive on the way in. It nixed the argrav coil, for starters. We don't usually land frigates on dead worlds. Lucky me, the argrav held out long enough to drop a mile outside the other wrecks. As soon as I was safely buried in the dust, I figured I had two options. Wait to die in the pod, come back to in the station, and start all over, or go out, find my principle, and try to salvage the situation.

Some people just ain't got the balls for these gigs.

I grabbed an oxygen tank and hiked to the wrecks. Soon as I get there, it's all clear as day. There's battle scars all over the poor girl's freighter and she's downed next to two destroyers. I checked the girl first. Good thing she's a half-decent pilot and she managed to put the freighter down like I did. The destroyers? Looks like the goons inside panicked. One of them went **** well nose down and spun to pieces. The other guy was a little luckier and managed to survive the way down. I wasn't taking chances though. Offed him with a wrench and went to take a look at the girl.

She talks while I work. Like I figured, she showed up at the rendezvous to meet people she didn't know. Almost got herself powdered up there, except the gravity welled up, like it did on me, and dragged them down. Soon as I got her head injuries all settled, I started figuring as best I could how to get us out of this mess.

Planet did this gravity thing every couple hours and was speeding up. Way I did the math, the planet's cycles would run together within a week, which I didn't figure I wanted to see. Not that I was going to get a chance, since we were on survival tanks and were going to run out of breathable air in about two days. I knew I could stretch it if we needed to siphon some liquid oxygen off the bust-thrusters. All I had was the rock formation the freighter barely missed, the four ships, and one scared little princess who was already crying for her mom. Well, that and the planet itself, which was mostly a hydrogen atmosphere and iron dust landscape.

I had the plan sort of when I hit the ground, but since help wasn't coming I was going to have to go old school all by myself. Really old-school. Like, the kind of stuff I read about in history books. All you need to get out of pretty much any situation is a lot of brains and a little gear.

First things first, I needed to get some cooking going. I took the nose-down destroyer and started its coil cooling. Those things get cold. Real cold. Which was good, because I needed to liquefy some atmosphere. I depressurized the cargo holds and got the fridge bands off the useless warp blender and wrapped them around the holds. Soon as I turned the valve on, they started filling with liquid hydrogen. I got the girl to watch the coil and the hydogen, making sure it got sucked in right. We needed both tanks filled.

I took a lift back to my own ship, then to the two destroyers. Luck was looking out for me that day, they were all still packing liquid oxygen. I figured I wouldn't need it to breathe, but I'd need every ounce of it to lift off this rock.

Then I was going to have a real problem on my hands. I took all the steel cable I could, ran it around the rock formation and then around the bust-thruster on the nearest destroyer. It was kind of weird, seeing one of those spin at 60 RPMs rather than the 60,000 RPMs I'm used to. Wasn't the time to get interested in the machines, though. I worked through the night, using my blowtorch, kerosense lamp, anything combustable and pressurized as det charges. Ran wire into the early morning.

We were starting to run low on air when the freighter was getting close to vertical. I ran the liquid oxygen into the holds and got the princess to start climbing into the freighter's cockpit with me. We had to climb up into the deck and say a dashboard prayer we got to the right angle when the gravity well was lowest. I didn't have enough fuel to get out at its peak.

I rigged a couple flight suits by melting the inner binders in a pair of medskins, inflating them with one of our air tanks, and then duct taping them tight. Then we got strapped in and I got my little makeshift rocket prepped.

Would have been a sorry time to screw up, let me tell you....

(continued)
Red Roman Joringer
Pator Tech School
Minmatar Republic
#15 - 2013-09-06 00:17:34 UTC
My heart was jumping out of my chest now, though that might have been the jury rigged suit. Could feel it in my ears. This stuff was all theory and whatnot, so I hoped the math was good. It was all spit and wire holding this little bomb together.

Hands were shaking as I scraped the bare ends of the wires together to light the first stage rocket.

Instantly, we got hit with enough gees that I had to start hand-pumping air into our masks and chests. I could feel everything kind of smush back. We had to shut everything off except life support to run priming power off the auxiliaries. I could feel every single molecule scrunching back as we lifted off. I used the thrusters only when I had to to keep us on course when we rolled over. We didn't have anything else left.

I knew we were hosed when we rolled over. We were too low, and we were going to skip out of the atmosphere. I had to correct, but didn't have enough thruster engine. I gritted my teeth, gave my air a long pump, held my breath, and ignited bottom stage two early. Fired the retros and prayed I had enough fuel left to keep us from pushing the blood out of the backs of our heads. I remember blinking colors and just barely seeing the two glass plates I used to show us level. I thought I was going to die. All I could do was hold on until I couldn't anymore, activate the rest of stage two, eject the first cargo hold, and tried to take one more breath of air.

The world went black.

When I woke up, my arms and legs were asleep. I couldn't hear anything except a dull ringing. Life support had held, and I could breath. I hit the harness release and looked out through the port.

We'd made it. Spinning through space aimlessly, but the thing had held together. I hit the beacon and checked on the girl. I probably looked like her, blood streaming from her ears and nose. She hadn't woken up yet. I couldn't even get out of the seat. I just cut the tape on the flight suits with my knife and laid back. The world went black again.

Our buddies finally came looking for us and found us via the beacon. Luckily, we'd gotten out of the planet's weird gravity thing. It isn't even there anymore. I don't know what happened to it, and I really don't care. I never want to see it again.

We pulled off our job without any more hitches, and the girl's kept my name on the keyring. Turned out to be a solid time investment. Biggest payoff though? How many of you kids ever got to blast off a planet in an old-fashioned liquid-fuel rocket? It **** near killed me, but there's nothing like that feeling you get when you take a big risk and it pays off bigtime. Princess is a big name these days, and she keeps the isk flowing. Figures I'm some kind of hero for saving her.

But it really ain't about saving her. It's about the universe slapping everything it can on your back to tell you what to do, and one of the few times you give it the finger back, drop the pack, and tell it where it can shove its fear.

I ain't scared of **** anymore.
Eran Mintor
Metropolis Commercial Consortium
#16 - 2013-09-06 01:49:02 UTC
Dear Lord...can we get shorter versions of these stories that some of us might actually wish to read? I scrolled through most of this until I found the story about the two guys in the belt, which was a good read.

Not saying these other stories are bad, but I wouldn't know as I can't be bothered to read someones life story when there's the possibility I might find it dull and disappointing in the end. I don't mean to be rude but...the IGS readers historically have short attention spans. Most of us can't keep on topic for the first page of a thread.

-Eran
Constantin Baracca
Societas Imperialis Sceptri Coronaeque
Khimi Harar
#17 - 2013-09-06 02:16:07 UTC
Eran Mintor wrote:
Dear Lord...can we get shorter versions of these stories that some of us might actually wish to read? I scrolled through most of this until I found the story about the two guys in the belt, which was a good read.

Not saying these other stories are bad, but I wouldn't know as I can't be bothered to read someones life story when there's the possibility I might find it dull and disappointing in the end. I don't mean to be rude but...the IGS readers historically have short attention spans. Most of us can't keep on topic for the first page of a thread.

-Eran


I consider it something of a respite from the rather combative forums elsewhere. I don't honestly mind long reads, especially when the tales are so interesting. I would encourage long monologues here rather than shorter conversation pieces common in other threads.

I do have some more stories to tell. I suppose I could tell one tomorrow perhaps? Regardless, no one be offended at being told the stories are lengthy. Please do tell them in all their glory. We have enough places already for staccato debate. This thread should not be one of them.

"What good will it be for someone to gain the whole world, yet forfeit their soul? Or what can anyone give in exchange for their soul?"

-Matthew 16:26

Eran Mintor
Metropolis Commercial Consortium
#18 - 2013-09-06 02:19:27 UTC
Have fun then. I, for one, will not be keeping an eye on this thread anymore.

-Eran
Constantin Baracca
Societas Imperialis Sceptri Coronaeque
Khimi Harar
#19 - 2013-09-06 02:54:08 UTC
Ahhh, the character of good cognac though. I think another tale is in order.

One of my Matari brethren found himself in dire need of extraction. Apparently, his faith had become known in his native land and he needed to move to a more tolerant part of the Republic. I understand that he did not want to return to the Empire, though he considered it. He thought it would be cowardly both to leave his tribal people and abandon his opportunity to follow the Word in Minmatar lands. Truly, a man in need of help.

I had no idea how much help he needed at the time.

I was flying a frigate, my favorite interceptor, the Shannon's Song. As I emerged at his rendezvous point, I found myself face to face, so to speak, with a Republic battleship. One of the more interesting parts of my career. I was informed of the situation.

The Minmatar Republic may not exactly have good relations with my people or any of their ideas, but they do, to their credit, value their people's freedom enough that they did not think this Matari preacher should be killed over his belief in God. The Republic's gunship had arrived at the scene of a disturbance and found that my brother, as well as ten more brethren he had brought into the faith, were now being held in a derelict isogen station. Apparently, it was meant to be the scene of their execution, but the arrival of the gunship had stopped them. Rather than come out or release the prisoners, the Matari had found themselves in a strange hostage situation.

I think my arrival was somehow the unpredicted factor.

I took some time to explain my situation, as they were understandably skeptical as to why I had come. However, I do not think the captain and crew of that battleship really wanted to fire on those aboard the station, especially considering their hostages were likewise still their people.

I proposed a solution, which the captain offered the men aboard the station as a compromise. Trade the Matari hostages for a real Amarrian priest. The battleship could then see to the health and safety of my brethren, and the men on the station could have a member of my faith they could truly hate.

Luckily, they agreed. I had almost feared they would see me as a step down that the Minmatar Navy would hardly care about vaporizing. I must have been a tempting target indeed, for they agreed to a trade.

I flew over in my pod and exited. Finding me unarmed, my new captors followed their end of the bargain, releasing my friend and his small congregation. The look he gave me said everything I needed to know about my new situation. He was grateful and saddened, horrified even. He did not think I would leave that station.

As they collected their people, the battleship left. Obviously, they did not care what happened to some fool Amarr at the hands of an unruly mob. Especially one that was never heard from again.

I would say I have had more hospitable stays. I was struck several times with rifle butts and dragged to a piece of central scaffold. I was bound there with electrical cable and was able to finally take stock of my captors. There appeared to be ten of them (I later learned most of the rest had fled before the battleship had arrived). They began interrogating me, asking me questions about who I was and where I had come from in the Empire. They asked why I was there, if I had any plans for escape. I think it quite shocked them to learn I had come to transport the small flock out of harm's way and had no plans for escaping.

Not immediate plans, at any rate.

The men began speaking among themselves, trying to decide what best to do with me. It had become quite a lively debate about whether to ransom me back to the Empire or to just kill me on the spot. Some of the schemes they concocted there were fairly chilling, even to a man who has seen as much death as I have. I particularly remember the plan to skin me alive and mail it back to my home address.

Regardless of their plans, I had no intention of being a willing participant. I may not be much in the way of a warrior, but I do not think they realized what sort of training I had received in an Imperial Academy. I tested my bonds quietly, and found the wire to be quite impregnable. I suppose I could have cut my hands off at the wrist, but otherwise my arms were bound. My legs, however, were not.

Careful not to make too much noise, I slipped off my boots. With a bit of toe dexterity, I began shimmying my way up the X shaped scaffold. The debate down below grew more heated, and began to attract all of their attention. Sliding up the scaffold brought my hands closer and closer together, to where the beams crossed. With my hands together, I began to unbind myself.

I was finally beginning to release myself when one of my captors finally bothered to look at where I was. He looked up, saw me, and immediately laughed. He nudged his fellows, all of whom looked up at me with some amusement. I suppose they thought my actions were futile, and did not realize I had just freed myself. From ten feet on high, I launched myself towards the nearest of them.

I do not recall expecting to live or worrying about death. I only recall thinking as logically as I could. The man I landed on was certainly stunned, and I was able to wrest his rifle from him. Turning it on the rest, I fired a stream of projectiles in their direction. Three were killed where they were, and however many else were hit, I never learned. I immediately moved behind the scaffold for cover. When I spun around, I caught one unawares and was able to kill him. Rounds ricocheted off my cover and I knew I could not win outright.

Instead, I unleashed the rest of my fire towards them and ran for my pod. Upon realizing what I was doing, bullets followed me. I felt a pinch in my shoulder, then in my back. I knew I was going to die, but managed to dive into my pod and activate my sequencer.

"What good will it be for someone to gain the whole world, yet forfeit their soul? Or what can anyone give in exchange for their soul?"

-Matthew 16:26

Constantin Baracca
Societas Imperialis Sceptri Coronaeque
Khimi Harar
#20 - 2013-09-06 02:59:51 UTC
I must have activated it just in time. I awoke in a new clone, looking down at my new body. My log revealed I had survived a mere two seconds beyond the sequence finishing. Just enough to transmit my dying brainwaves to my resident medical facility.

In the end, my brethren were relocated to a colony in Embod. I took the time to visit them afterwards, and they were most grateful and most gracious. They live in a small farming community, growing with converts slowly every day. They did not have much, but what they had they were perfectly willing to share. I still stop by for some of their exceptional biscuits.

The men who killed me returned to their homes, obviously in no mood to follow my trail of clones. The Minmatar were not happy about the men I had killed, but hardly could justify being angry at me.

In the end, all worked out for the best.

Two seconds, though...

"What good will it be for someone to gain the whole world, yet forfeit their soul? Or what can anyone give in exchange for their soul?"

-Matthew 16:26

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