Entry: six hundred twenty-six.
NOTIFICATION:
I found out yesterday that Cascade is recruiting again. To my knowledge, two corporations have left: Serenity Prime and Red Horizon Industries. I also found out yesterday that Militaris Industries, my corporation is recruiting with relaxed restrictions.
WHY WOULD I WANT TO JOIN:
Cascade is not interested in becoming a massive alliance like TEST or Goons. We are interested only in combat, and only take sovereignty to fund that combat itch. Militaris Industries is typically tied for first place in kills with one other corporation in Cascade, Paragon Fury. Considering that we at present have twelve or so active members in the corporation compared to Paragon Fury's thirty to forty, this is quite the achievement. Militaris Industries is almost entirely focused on combat, but understands the need to engage in carebear activities to generate the ISK required to fund these combat operations.
RECRUITING RESTRICTIONS:
In terms of corporate restrictions, the main recruiter for the corp had placed a ten million skillpoint limit on entry. Exceptions did exist, but everything was and is on a case by case basis. The ceo has decided to relax these restrictions and dismiss the skillpoint restrictions. The reasoning is that we simply need more blood in the corporation.
As for the Alliance, with two corporations gone for varying reasons, there's a void to fill. Cascade doesn't aim to be huge, and is only looking for two mid to large sized corporations to fill the void, mid-size meaning thirty-five plus members.
WHICH LEFT AND WHY:
As far as I know, Serenity Prime mostly dissolved due to internal workings breaking down, and Red Horizon Industries for reasons I don't know. Cascade hasn't begun a failscade as far as I can tell, however. Those two corporations have been absent for some time now.
LOCATION:
Cascade does hold sovereignty in Querious and a few systems in Delve, Catch having fallen to the DRF. At present however, the Alliance is deployed to Blood Raider space, more specifically 1DH-SX.
BUT I DON'T WANT TO LIVE IN NPC NULL:
Sure, NPC null is supposedly where alliances go to die. It's also where new alliances go to be born. In a point more relevant to the current situation, most alliances worth talking about are in Blood Raider space or staged just a few systems out, excepting the DRF, Against All Authorities, and StainWagon. Goons, Test, Cascade, Atlas, Warped Aggression, Evoke, Ewoks, Fatal Ascension, Morsus Mihi, and Brick Squad are all in Blood Raider space. Black Legion, a notable pirate corporation, is deployed nearby as well.
If you want combat in null sec, Blood Raider space and by extension Delve, is, to be blunt, your only real option. If you want structure grinding, the option of Catch opens up to you, but that is about it.
ALLIED PARTIES:
Cascade is currently allied with Morsus Mihi, Brick Squad, Atlas, Warped Aggression, and Against All Authorities (not present in Delve). Goons, Test, Fatal Ascension are allied as the Deklein Coalition. Evoke and Ewoks are allied with each other as part of the DRF. Black Legion is neutral to all. In summary, there are four parties involved, all excepting Black Legion being involved in the sovereignty warfare side of things.
WHO TO CONTACT:
If you are interested in joining Cascade Imminent or Cascade Probable, you may contact any recruiter from a member corporation. If you are interested in joining or learning more about Militaris Industries, contact me or join the corporate recruiting channel.
Computer: terminate recording.
Monday, September 26, 2011
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Pax Sanguis Sicarius: Duabus Partibus
Entry: six hundred twenty-five, supplemental one. Link to previous entry regarding Pax Sanguis Sicarius.
Even as murderous as my life has been to this point, I was not prepared in any way for this. Especially for this. Up till now, every life I had taken had been cold, impersonal, distanced. This was everything that wasn't.
The heat from the priest's blood was practically visible in my shaken state of mind, the air shimmering with the rage boiling from out of his skin. My skin felt on fire where his blood met my flesh.
Deep breaths..."woo-sa"..."woo-sa".
"Traitor!" he seethed through clenched teeth. His eyes wild, searching, panicked yet filled with hate on a level far beyond human. To be quite honest, it was more than a little disturbing. "After all the good work you've done for Nation, all those you helped convert, all that we tolerated because of your service, you turn on us now?"
I shit you not, he lunged at me and tried to bite me. My all too human instincts made me flinch away. There's something strictly primal when someone lunges at you for a bite, something unsettling that drives you back on a level so deep you can't comprehend it.
It pissed me off.
I'm a Capsuleer, meant for things beyond mere humanity, and it pissed me off so much to be reminded of my "humanity", after all the inhumanity I'd come to encompass since that first day.
Plus, the deranged bastard made me flinch.
My anger drove me at that point, and I remember little except an unending feeling of rage. I remember I grabbed the dagger, still embedded in the stone through his arm, and wrenched it. His screams nearly broke my eardrums, piece of shit that he was. I pulled the blade free, and sliced his body apart, slow, dragging, ripping strokes meant for pain and not death.
At some point, his voice broke. I didn't stop, his eyes still screaming for him. I kept going, dragging the knife along his bones, letting him bleed out on the altar, the blood itself collected by a pool at the base of the altar.
At some point past that, exhaustion hit me strong enough to dissipate my rage. His stomach was a mess of pale grey meat covered in red sticky fluid. His legs were mangled beyond recognition, the bones themselves protruding in awkward places through the cuts I'd given him.
The dagger was still clean, however, shining with a red brilliance.
I felt a compulsion, something so wrong that I tried to resist even though I had no choice. I held the dagger high over my head, tipping my head back and opening my mouth wide. Something nudged me inside, and I triggered a catch on the hilt. Something happened...
Blood from the pool swirled into the air lazily, forming a stream towards the point of the dagger, and once established, rushed from the point into my mouth. Blood overflowed from my mouth, into and out of my nostrils.
"Drink his lifeblood, or die," a voice spoke to me, a voice penetrating my mind. Sound had no relevance in this matter.
I swallowed, and the blood in my nostrils cleared. Rust, iron, red fluid, a sickening combination overflowing with power suffused into me after each swallow. I kept swallowing the blood, as fast as I could to make sure I could breathe.
My body tried to throw the blood up, but the blood was having none of it, pushing deeper and deeper into me, penetrating the simple walls of internal organs and merging with my own blood. My heart pounded, more powerful, yet under more stress.
At last the ritual finished. The pool was clear of every drop of blood, the priest's corpse a dried husk crumbling before my eyes.
No one was there to see how shaken I was. I took some time to gather myself before heading to the quarters I'd been assigned.
As I left the temple, a whisper brushed my mind.
"Revenge has never tasted so sweet, has it, Sanguis Sicarius?"
The only taste I could remember was that of iron and blood.
Computer: terminate recording
Even as murderous as my life has been to this point, I was not prepared in any way for this. Especially for this. Up till now, every life I had taken had been cold, impersonal, distanced. This was everything that wasn't.
The heat from the priest's blood was practically visible in my shaken state of mind, the air shimmering with the rage boiling from out of his skin. My skin felt on fire where his blood met my flesh.
Deep breaths..."woo-sa"..."woo-sa".
"Traitor!" he seethed through clenched teeth. His eyes wild, searching, panicked yet filled with hate on a level far beyond human. To be quite honest, it was more than a little disturbing. "After all the good work you've done for Nation, all those you helped convert, all that we tolerated because of your service, you turn on us now?"
I shit you not, he lunged at me and tried to bite me. My all too human instincts made me flinch away. There's something strictly primal when someone lunges at you for a bite, something unsettling that drives you back on a level so deep you can't comprehend it.
It pissed me off.
I'm a Capsuleer, meant for things beyond mere humanity, and it pissed me off so much to be reminded of my "humanity", after all the inhumanity I'd come to encompass since that first day.
Plus, the deranged bastard made me flinch.
My anger drove me at that point, and I remember little except an unending feeling of rage. I remember I grabbed the dagger, still embedded in the stone through his arm, and wrenched it. His screams nearly broke my eardrums, piece of shit that he was. I pulled the blade free, and sliced his body apart, slow, dragging, ripping strokes meant for pain and not death.
At some point, his voice broke. I didn't stop, his eyes still screaming for him. I kept going, dragging the knife along his bones, letting him bleed out on the altar, the blood itself collected by a pool at the base of the altar.
At some point past that, exhaustion hit me strong enough to dissipate my rage. His stomach was a mess of pale grey meat covered in red sticky fluid. His legs were mangled beyond recognition, the bones themselves protruding in awkward places through the cuts I'd given him.
The dagger was still clean, however, shining with a red brilliance.
I felt a compulsion, something so wrong that I tried to resist even though I had no choice. I held the dagger high over my head, tipping my head back and opening my mouth wide. Something nudged me inside, and I triggered a catch on the hilt. Something happened...
Blood from the pool swirled into the air lazily, forming a stream towards the point of the dagger, and once established, rushed from the point into my mouth. Blood overflowed from my mouth, into and out of my nostrils.
"Drink his lifeblood, or die," a voice spoke to me, a voice penetrating my mind. Sound had no relevance in this matter.
I swallowed, and the blood in my nostrils cleared. Rust, iron, red fluid, a sickening combination overflowing with power suffused into me after each swallow. I kept swallowing the blood, as fast as I could to make sure I could breathe.
My body tried to throw the blood up, but the blood was having none of it, pushing deeper and deeper into me, penetrating the simple walls of internal organs and merging with my own blood. My heart pounded, more powerful, yet under more stress.
At last the ritual finished. The pool was clear of every drop of blood, the priest's corpse a dried husk crumbling before my eyes.
No one was there to see how shaken I was. I took some time to gather myself before heading to the quarters I'd been assigned.
As I left the temple, a whisper brushed my mind.
"Revenge has never tasted so sweet, has it, Sanguis Sicarius?"
The only taste I could remember was that of iron and blood.
Computer: terminate recording
Pax Sanguis Sicarius: Pars Altera
Entry: six hundred twenty-five.
I've been laid up recently. The move to Blood Raider space was not kind.
Since moving here to 1DH-, Cascade has had to form another Peace Treaty, this time with the Blood Raiders. From what we were told, the Sansha were no friends to the Blood Raiders, especially given the recent Incursions where the Blood Raiders operate.
A critical part of our pact with the Raiders was to engage in human sacrifice, and while any enemy of the Raiders would do, a Sansha would "go a long ways towards mending relations".
Before leaving LGK- in the Cyclone, I invited a Sansha Priest over for 'talks concerning my conversion'. We had a meal together while he explained the better part of the roles and responsibilities I would take on as a Collaborator. After listening to his preaching for a few hours, and playing the part of someone not yet sure at first but finally convinced to join the ranks, we made our way through the station towards the Medical Bay.
It was a well thought out plan on my part, I thought.
As we crossed the Hangar to the Medical Bay, I stunned the Priest with a blow to the back of his head. As he began to fall, I caught him, pretending in pretend conversation that he just needed some rest, and played out a scene where he could take a breather aboard my Cyclone while he recovered.
We made into my ship without a hint of trouble.
I clubbed him again, to be certain he was knocked out and then tied him to the metal grating that sufficed for a floor on Matari vessels. With him restrained, I entered the pod, still seated deep in the Cyclone, and jacked in.
"Capsuleer, why are you undocking with a Priest on board?" came a harsh female voice over a communication link.
"Father Hedekai requires transport to the planet three True Power station in TG-, and has asked me to provide this while he talks to me about becoming a Collaborator."
"Capsuleer, power down your ship and prepare to be boarded. An inspection will be carried out immediately."
Shit.
I didn't power down. I powered up the ship completely, and used the fitted autocannons, already warm from power-up and spinning in anticipation, to shred the docking clamps. Freed from the shackles of the dock, I engaged the microwarpdrive and navigated out of the station, entering warp towards MB4D- immediately.
My ceo was waiting me for me, one jump ahead in his Rapier. I had no doubts that his captive was aboard his ship as well.
We had a thirty-six jump trip to make through two portions of 'hot' space. With my fingers crossed, I began the perilous journey.
We had encountered no resistance all the way into FWST-. CZK- had been taken over by Jagged Alliance, and they were already at work killing off the local Sansha while ignoring us. No one stood in our way, nor made any moves to do so.
I set up my medical clone in FWST-. The Sansha would surely not treat me well were I to wake up in their medical bay. Implants being drilled into my brain would be the least of my worries.
After the change in medical clone locations, I made the final two jumps into 1DH- and docked. A Blood Raider entourage waited for me at the dock, already notified of my presence. The leader of the entourage gave me a hard look, one that turned to muted glee and back as his eyes flickered down to the lethargic priest and back to me.
A terse gesture, and the lackeys filled in behind me, the leader setting the pace at my side towards what looked like a temple in the background.
No words were shared between us.
The priest had struggled valiantly, but in vain. No one person, even a Capsuleer or hyper-augmented Sansha priest can hold his ground against a group of sickeningly eager Blood Raiders.
He had been strapped down to an altar, the old fashioned way. Genuine rope circled his wrists, shoulders, thighs, neck, and ankles. There was enough give in the ropes to let him struggle, but not near enough to allow him to escape. His blood had already caked into the ropes, the bonds tearing at his skin.
The leader cast a look at me, his words writhing past his lips towards me. I was quite certain the man was mad, multiple expressions and emotions flickering across his face faster than I could track. Sane people couldn't hope to mimic such a display.
"Take your time with this one, Capsuleer. Savor his life, his energy, his strength, and devour it. Take his essence and make it your own." His fingernails dragged against the priest's chest, gouging out a section of skin and letting blood spill from the wound. He gently mashed a finger into the priest's wound, getting his finger bloody before raising the finger to his lips to suck the blood off.
"But don't take too long, or I might come for him myself." He pulled out a dagger, blade simple but with an ornate handle, with a groove for collecting blood on the blade. He smirked slightly, raising the dagger above his head, then his face contorted into an expression of righteous anger as he slammed the blade through the left forearm of the sacrifice. Confusion crossed the leader's face for a split second, the priest giving out a scream of pain, and then malicious glee returned to those cruel Blood Raider features.
The leader looked back at me, then walked out of the temple while mumbling vehemently to himself.
Computer: pause, no, terminate recording.
I've been laid up recently. The move to Blood Raider space was not kind.
Since moving here to 1DH-, Cascade has had to form another Peace Treaty, this time with the Blood Raiders. From what we were told, the Sansha were no friends to the Blood Raiders, especially given the recent Incursions where the Blood Raiders operate.
A critical part of our pact with the Raiders was to engage in human sacrifice, and while any enemy of the Raiders would do, a Sansha would "go a long ways towards mending relations".
Before leaving LGK- in the Cyclone, I invited a Sansha Priest over for 'talks concerning my conversion'. We had a meal together while he explained the better part of the roles and responsibilities I would take on as a Collaborator. After listening to his preaching for a few hours, and playing the part of someone not yet sure at first but finally convinced to join the ranks, we made our way through the station towards the Medical Bay.
It was a well thought out plan on my part, I thought.
As we crossed the Hangar to the Medical Bay, I stunned the Priest with a blow to the back of his head. As he began to fall, I caught him, pretending in pretend conversation that he just needed some rest, and played out a scene where he could take a breather aboard my Cyclone while he recovered.
We made into my ship without a hint of trouble.
I clubbed him again, to be certain he was knocked out and then tied him to the metal grating that sufficed for a floor on Matari vessels. With him restrained, I entered the pod, still seated deep in the Cyclone, and jacked in.
"Capsuleer, why are you undocking with a Priest on board?" came a harsh female voice over a communication link.
"Father Hedekai requires transport to the planet three True Power station in TG-, and has asked me to provide this while he talks to me about becoming a Collaborator."
"Capsuleer, power down your ship and prepare to be boarded. An inspection will be carried out immediately."
Shit.
I didn't power down. I powered up the ship completely, and used the fitted autocannons, already warm from power-up and spinning in anticipation, to shred the docking clamps. Freed from the shackles of the dock, I engaged the microwarpdrive and navigated out of the station, entering warp towards MB4D- immediately.
My ceo was waiting me for me, one jump ahead in his Rapier. I had no doubts that his captive was aboard his ship as well.
We had a thirty-six jump trip to make through two portions of 'hot' space. With my fingers crossed, I began the perilous journey.
*****
We had encountered no resistance all the way into FWST-. CZK- had been taken over by Jagged Alliance, and they were already at work killing off the local Sansha while ignoring us. No one stood in our way, nor made any moves to do so.
I set up my medical clone in FWST-. The Sansha would surely not treat me well were I to wake up in their medical bay. Implants being drilled into my brain would be the least of my worries.
After the change in medical clone locations, I made the final two jumps into 1DH- and docked. A Blood Raider entourage waited for me at the dock, already notified of my presence. The leader of the entourage gave me a hard look, one that turned to muted glee and back as his eyes flickered down to the lethargic priest and back to me.
A terse gesture, and the lackeys filled in behind me, the leader setting the pace at my side towards what looked like a temple in the background.
No words were shared between us.
*****
The priest had struggled valiantly, but in vain. No one person, even a Capsuleer or hyper-augmented Sansha priest can hold his ground against a group of sickeningly eager Blood Raiders.
He had been strapped down to an altar, the old fashioned way. Genuine rope circled his wrists, shoulders, thighs, neck, and ankles. There was enough give in the ropes to let him struggle, but not near enough to allow him to escape. His blood had already caked into the ropes, the bonds tearing at his skin.
The leader cast a look at me, his words writhing past his lips towards me. I was quite certain the man was mad, multiple expressions and emotions flickering across his face faster than I could track. Sane people couldn't hope to mimic such a display.
"Take your time with this one, Capsuleer. Savor his life, his energy, his strength, and devour it. Take his essence and make it your own." His fingernails dragged against the priest's chest, gouging out a section of skin and letting blood spill from the wound. He gently mashed a finger into the priest's wound, getting his finger bloody before raising the finger to his lips to suck the blood off.
"But don't take too long, or I might come for him myself." He pulled out a dagger, blade simple but with an ornate handle, with a groove for collecting blood on the blade. He smirked slightly, raising the dagger above his head, then his face contorted into an expression of righteous anger as he slammed the blade through the left forearm of the sacrifice. Confusion crossed the leader's face for a split second, the priest giving out a scream of pain, and then malicious glee returned to those cruel Blood Raider features.
The leader looked back at me, then walked out of the temple while mumbling vehemently to himself.
Computer: pause, no, terminate recording.
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
My First Fight
Entry: six hundred twenty one.
Since moving I haven't time for anything but reading. While reading to some of the public logs I follow though, a memory surfaced regarding my first combat experience. Not first gank experience, first combat experience.
I was still a wide-eyed pilot, the asteroids in space looking like a wallet ever increasing. I was still limited to my first Stabber, however, and mining was the way to make money. Level one missions sure don't pay much.
I remember mining into a jetcan, minding my own business, and someone flips my can, and starts orbiting me. I'm very poorly fit, and I know better to engage in combat fit like that, but there he is orbiting me. I have a hard time remembering what he was in, I think perhaps a Merlin.
I opened convo with him and asked him if he wanted to fight. His replies are at first terse, and mostly in the little bit of Gallente that I can understand. We shortly come to an agreement for an equal battle, or at least what I thought was one at the time.
He made a trip to buy and fit out a Cormorant, to Jita looking back on it. I made a trip to Eystur, fitted out an autocannon armor Thrasher. When he came back, we agreed to stop at structure and warped to an asteroid belt. Thirty seconds later, we landed within twenty kilometers of each other.
As we closed the distance, afterburners on, my heart began to hammer. All sound was drowned out by the blood pumping through my ears. We exchanged webs and scrams, my autocannons pouring bullets at him, his missile launchers assaulting my armor, concussion after concussion.
I tried to pull range, but couldn't get away. He was only marginally slower than me, so I turned around and barreled at him. It felt like nothing was changing. His damage was coming on just as strong, his shields dropping the same as before.
He entered structure before I did, myself at about a third remaining armor. We called the fight, congratulating each other on a great fight, and happy that neither of us had lost our ship to get it.
Xerophim was about the same age as me. We had roughly the same skill set.
After the fight, my blood still hammering, he was talking to me about him joining a pirate corporation. I had this concept of the wild west, no law enforcement at all, wide open spaces and ruthless bands of pilots just itching for the next kill. On reflection, however, the concept I had was of what low-sec would be like if there was no weaponry on the gates or stations, and if the population was vastly vastly reduced.
It was an awesome thing to imagine. It's a shame that low-sec didn't quite live up to the scene I had imagined. It comes close though. W-space is really what I had imagined, but low-sec isn't that far off the mark.
Computer: terminate recording.
Since moving I haven't time for anything but reading. While reading to some of the public logs I follow though, a memory surfaced regarding my first combat experience. Not first gank experience, first combat experience.
I was still a wide-eyed pilot, the asteroids in space looking like a wallet ever increasing. I was still limited to my first Stabber, however, and mining was the way to make money. Level one missions sure don't pay much.
I remember mining into a jetcan, minding my own business, and someone flips my can, and starts orbiting me. I'm very poorly fit, and I know better to engage in combat fit like that, but there he is orbiting me. I have a hard time remembering what he was in, I think perhaps a Merlin.
I opened convo with him and asked him if he wanted to fight. His replies are at first terse, and mostly in the little bit of Gallente that I can understand. We shortly come to an agreement for an equal battle, or at least what I thought was one at the time.
He made a trip to buy and fit out a Cormorant, to Jita looking back on it. I made a trip to Eystur, fitted out an autocannon armor Thrasher. When he came back, we agreed to stop at structure and warped to an asteroid belt. Thirty seconds later, we landed within twenty kilometers of each other.
As we closed the distance, afterburners on, my heart began to hammer. All sound was drowned out by the blood pumping through my ears. We exchanged webs and scrams, my autocannons pouring bullets at him, his missile launchers assaulting my armor, concussion after concussion.
I tried to pull range, but couldn't get away. He was only marginally slower than me, so I turned around and barreled at him. It felt like nothing was changing. His damage was coming on just as strong, his shields dropping the same as before.
He entered structure before I did, myself at about a third remaining armor. We called the fight, congratulating each other on a great fight, and happy that neither of us had lost our ship to get it.
Xerophim was about the same age as me. We had roughly the same skill set.
After the fight, my blood still hammering, he was talking to me about him joining a pirate corporation. I had this concept of the wild west, no law enforcement at all, wide open spaces and ruthless bands of pilots just itching for the next kill. On reflection, however, the concept I had was of what low-sec would be like if there was no weaponry on the gates or stations, and if the population was vastly vastly reduced.
It was an awesome thing to imagine. It's a shame that low-sec didn't quite live up to the scene I had imagined. It comes close though. W-space is really what I had imagined, but low-sec isn't that far off the mark.
Computer: terminate recording.
Monday, September 19, 2011
Entry: six hundred nineteen.
I do realize that this log is public, and some of the comments I've gotten make me think that perhaps I am viewed as whining.
I'll be honest, I was a little bit, but not as much as I'm getting the impression that I have been. Largely, my goal is to provide an accurate recounting on what occurs wherever I am, but to completely accurate about it, I have to include the subjective as well as the objective. Facts may be facts, but without a subjective context they can be...lost in translation is perhaps the best way to put it. Without context, facts don't have an impact.
Am I wrong?
Shortly after my last entry, I managed to catch the trailing edge of the logistics train from LGK- to 1DH-. One kind and very capable carrier pilot took on three of my battlecruisers, my remaining Guardian, and six of my frigates, and shuttled them out to 1DH- for me. The insurance may or may not have been voided, Pend Insurance sends me notices all the time to re-insure ships they've already paid out for, so I don't honestly know without checking the ship logs myself.
All that remains in Stain, in terms of ships actually worth taking to 1DH-, are my Cyclone, and a Malediction I have yet to even assemble five jumps down the pipe in TG-. Hopefully soon, when things cool down in Catch, I and two corpmates will make the trip. Jumpbridges have been taken out everywhere, so worst case, we're looking at a thirty-six jump trip.
"It's thirty-six jumps to 1DH, we've got half a pack of cigarettes, it's dark, and I'm wearing sunglasses. Hit it!"
Computer: terminate recording.
I do realize that this log is public, and some of the comments I've gotten make me think that perhaps I am viewed as whining.
I'll be honest, I was a little bit, but not as much as I'm getting the impression that I have been. Largely, my goal is to provide an accurate recounting on what occurs wherever I am, but to completely accurate about it, I have to include the subjective as well as the objective. Facts may be facts, but without a subjective context they can be...lost in translation is perhaps the best way to put it. Without context, facts don't have an impact.
Am I wrong?
Shortly after my last entry, I managed to catch the trailing edge of the logistics train from LGK- to 1DH-. One kind and very capable carrier pilot took on three of my battlecruisers, my remaining Guardian, and six of my frigates, and shuttled them out to 1DH- for me. The insurance may or may not have been voided, Pend Insurance sends me notices all the time to re-insure ships they've already paid out for, so I don't honestly know without checking the ship logs myself.
All that remains in Stain, in terms of ships actually worth taking to 1DH-, are my Cyclone, and a Malediction I have yet to even assemble five jumps down the pipe in TG-. Hopefully soon, when things cool down in Catch, I and two corpmates will make the trip. Jumpbridges have been taken out everywhere, so worst case, we're looking at a thirty-six jump trip.
"It's thirty-six jumps to 1DH, we've got half a pack of cigarettes, it's dark, and I'm wearing sunglasses. Hit it!"
Computer: terminate recording.
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Re-Deployment Number Four
Entry: six hundred sixteen.
Computer: play back mail.
"Playing back redacted Alliance mail."
From: ----------------
Sent: 2011.09.18 00:39 ----------------, --------, --------------, ---------
To: Cascade Imminent, ----------------, --------, --------------, ---------
So, I'm extremely sorry but also happy to say, as of right now, we are not going to be living out of Stain.
After many talks and the recent --------- ------------- and ---- -- -------, we (the leadership) have decided that it is in our best interest to move the alliance ---- -- ----- --- system ---. Whilst there we will be "modifying" the -- ------ so that you guys can have quick access to the --- ------ to carebear,
Yes this means that our resident neutral friends will no longer be so neutral.
Those of you that need help moving ships, etc, speak to corp leadership, as much of the fuel cost will be covered by alliance by fuel given/paid for by your corps.
I recommend that you sell/self destruct remaining battleships, sell spare mods, etc. Travel as light as possible. Once there we will be using ------ --, specifically the --------- ----- fit which will be posted on the forums shortly.
Please note, Blue standings will be sorted by 18:00 tomorrow, so don't jump into --- just yet. If you have any further questions about why, etc, please go to either you corp leadership or myself, -----, or ------ directly and we will be happy to explain the reasoning.
Again I'm sorry to make you guys move again, but I promise this will be the last I will be moving my shit for the next forever. At least until the Q and D sov is secure and we can relocate to a new system to call home.
-------
P.S.: Guys, please understand that it isn't lightly we make the decision, we want what is best for this alliance and although we all hate moving including me, once this is over and done with we can settle down and get back to business, which after all is what we're here for, I'm afraid I couldn't sit around any longer and watch my friends leaving this alliance because they didn't want to be in Stain. ---- ----- we will build on what we have and grow again like we were before.
P.P.S.: Please don't hate me.
Suffice to say, it's annoying as hell what the current situation is. Still, since I don't want to change alliances/corporations, I made an effort to move my stuff down to the new staging system. I took my Claw around the back route, and about halfway through I ran into a Dramiel gatecamp with a cloaky Eris. Obviously I didn't make it and got sent back to FV-.
I took the back route because the other day the DRF took CZK-, and there's a timer today for 4-07, which is camped pretty heavily by the DRF as well for the next few hours at minimum.
Doesn't matter what alliance orders are. You can't redeploy if you can't get to the redeployment system.
Computer: terminate recording.
Computer: play back mail.
"Playing back redacted Alliance mail."
*****
Sent: 2011.09.18 00:39 ----------------, --------, --------------, ---------
To: Cascade Imminent, ----------------, --------, --------------, ---------
So, I'm extremely sorry but also happy to say, as of right now, we are not going to be living out of Stain.
After many talks and the recent --------- ------------- and ---- -- -------, we (the leadership) have decided that it is in our best interest to move the alliance ---- -- ----- --- system ---. Whilst there we will be "modifying" the -- ------ so that you guys can have quick access to the --- ------ to carebear,
Yes this means that our resident neutral friends will no longer be so neutral.
Those of you that need help moving ships, etc, speak to corp leadership, as much of the fuel cost will be covered by alliance by fuel given/paid for by your corps.
I recommend that you sell/self destruct remaining battleships, sell spare mods, etc. Travel as light as possible. Once there we will be using ------ --, specifically the --------- ----- fit which will be posted on the forums shortly.
Please note, Blue standings will be sorted by 18:00 tomorrow, so don't jump into --- just yet. If you have any further questions about why, etc, please go to either you corp leadership or myself, -----, or ------ directly and we will be happy to explain the reasoning.
Again I'm sorry to make you guys move again, but I promise this will be the last I will be moving my shit for the next forever. At least until the Q and D sov is secure and we can relocate to a new system to call home.
-------
P.S.: Guys, please understand that it isn't lightly we make the decision, we want what is best for this alliance and although we all hate moving including me, once this is over and done with we can settle down and get back to business, which after all is what we're here for, I'm afraid I couldn't sit around any longer and watch my friends leaving this alliance because they didn't want to be in Stain. ---- ----- we will build on what we have and grow again like we were before.
P.P.S.: Please don't hate me.
*****
"Playback terminated."
I took the back route because the other day the DRF took CZK-, and there's a timer today for 4-07, which is camped pretty heavily by the DRF as well for the next few hours at minimum.
Doesn't matter what alliance orders are. You can't redeploy if you can't get to the redeployment system.
Computer: terminate recording.
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
The Reality of Life in Stain
Entry: six hundred twelve.
Many capsuleers make their living fighting off the Sansha hordes, pushing back incursions from high sec, low-sec, even null-sec. Many capsuleers never take into account what happens to the abducted.
They end up here, in Stain.
Stain is controlled by Sansha's Nation, which is to say, by Kuvakei. Those who live here willingly need have no fear of the Sansha, or of the reconditioning given to those abducted during Incursions. All who live here work with and for Kuvakei, by choice or by force.
The exception, in part, are the capsuleers also living in Stain, basing out of Sansha stations. Still, this exception isn't the entirety of the capsuleer population in Stain, as many who live here work willingly for Sansha's Nations, carrying out missions of all security levels for them in exchange for ISK, items, ships, and favors.
Often times, when I venture beyond the sparse quarters provided to me, the screams and wails of those yet to be converted reach my ears. On the rare occassion, one will manage to break free of his captors, only to run into a capsuleer such as myself.
Escapees don't manage to stay free beyond that point. The treaty the capsuleers have with Sansha's Nation demands that we apprehend any escapees and turn them over to Nation alive. I've had to turn over a handful myself, lest I be in violation of the Sansha-Capsuleer Accords and be denied all services at all Sansha stations. At least Nation doesn't seem to mind that I typically break the knees of the escape artist that crosses my path.
Being denied the ability to conduct my own war is a greater evil in my eyes than allowing Sansha to enslave trillions.
For this service to the Sansha, by which I mean making sure I apprehend all nearby conversion escapees, Nation even tolerates me destroying some of their manned vessels when I go out in space to make ISK. I've destroyed somewhere between fifty and one hundred such vessels, ranging from frigate class to battleship class. Nation is apparently pulling in more convertees than we capsuleers are destroying in our effort to fund our own wars, and apparently doesn't mind much as long as their numbers continue to climb.
I wonder when I changed. I used to care about people in general, and now I'm only concerned with myself and the capsuleers I associate with. It doesn't bother me that I am this way, but it does bother me that I can't point to when the change occurred.
Computer: terminate recording.
Many capsuleers make their living fighting off the Sansha hordes, pushing back incursions from high sec, low-sec, even null-sec. Many capsuleers never take into account what happens to the abducted.
They end up here, in Stain.
Stain is controlled by Sansha's Nation, which is to say, by Kuvakei. Those who live here willingly need have no fear of the Sansha, or of the reconditioning given to those abducted during Incursions. All who live here work with and for Kuvakei, by choice or by force.
The exception, in part, are the capsuleers also living in Stain, basing out of Sansha stations. Still, this exception isn't the entirety of the capsuleer population in Stain, as many who live here work willingly for Sansha's Nations, carrying out missions of all security levels for them in exchange for ISK, items, ships, and favors.
Often times, when I venture beyond the sparse quarters provided to me, the screams and wails of those yet to be converted reach my ears. On the rare occassion, one will manage to break free of his captors, only to run into a capsuleer such as myself.
Escapees don't manage to stay free beyond that point. The treaty the capsuleers have with Sansha's Nation demands that we apprehend any escapees and turn them over to Nation alive. I've had to turn over a handful myself, lest I be in violation of the Sansha-Capsuleer Accords and be denied all services at all Sansha stations. At least Nation doesn't seem to mind that I typically break the knees of the escape artist that crosses my path.
Being denied the ability to conduct my own war is a greater evil in my eyes than allowing Sansha to enslave trillions.
For this service to the Sansha, by which I mean making sure I apprehend all nearby conversion escapees, Nation even tolerates me destroying some of their manned vessels when I go out in space to make ISK. I've destroyed somewhere between fifty and one hundred such vessels, ranging from frigate class to battleship class. Nation is apparently pulling in more convertees than we capsuleers are destroying in our effort to fund our own wars, and apparently doesn't mind much as long as their numbers continue to climb.
I wonder when I changed. I used to care about people in general, and now I'm only concerned with myself and the capsuleers I associate with. It doesn't bother me that I am this way, but it does bother me that I can't point to when the change occurred.
Computer: terminate recording.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)