Monday, 31 August 2009

Ooh, what does this button do?

"Staring blankly into my hangar, two great - if not shiney - behemoths sat floating there. A mixture of magnetic clamping and zero gravity keeping them in place.
What was I doing? For that matter what were the ship designers taking when they dreamt up these monstrosities?
First monstrousity is my Raven class Battleship '大鹏' I couldn't think of a name so I named it after and ancient myth my father recited to me of a giant fire-breathing bird. Visually - I have no idea... Was the port designed by a different designer to the starboard? Or was he hallucinating and thought it was symetrical? It perplexes me. A mystery maybe to be solved.
The second is a joke pod pilots may get if they remeber watching a certain holoscreen series, a Dominix class Battleship called 'Ms. Anderson'.
What? It looks like a giant mishaped breast to me.

I order the Raven to be made ready, I wanted to test its limits. I point my Neocomm to my new agent in Gicodel, a short order to clear several Serpentis locations in the nearby system of Korsiki.
The first two locations saved on my Neocomm journal went by in a flash. Combatting all these Serpentis Battleships would've taken forever and a day in my Drake class Battlecruiser with the added bonus of bigger explosions from the cruise missile batteries.
I still prefer torpedoes, theres something about the 10km shockwave that gets me all gooey inside my panties. Oh, did I just record that? Damn, umm. Yes.
How do you erase this? *A momentary pause...* Oh, Feth take it, I'll ne[bzzzt]t ou[bzzzt...]

---- Error code 4 ----
>Press [R]ecover personal log system.
>Error recovery complete.
>System shutting down......

>System start.

Okay... Umm, I think I broke it.
Oh there it is. Where was I? Umm, nevermind.
Crew's quarters, this is your captain speaking, please prepare my Manticore to leave, we're going to destroy this Gods forsaken outpost, nothing ever works here."

A Manticore class Stealth Bomber appears on system scan, call signature '永远龙' and a brief message on the system's local Neocomm channel "cleanup on aisle seven."
The vessel fires 3 volleys of torpedoes at a lone habitation module. A bright flash, a dusty yellow shockwave and a shudder as the hab explodes in a firey carona, the Manticore leaves visibility. A residual energy pattern left when she cloaked.
Inside the vessel the commander sighs and slumps in her command chair. "Ladies and gentlemen this is your captain speaking. Set destination to home, I think we've exhausted all possibilities here, and I want to see my partner. I'm sure you all do too."

Friday, 28 August 2009

Sex, sex, sex, that's all you think about...

Moaning as she sucks on my nipples, I hold her close, a fire within me burns. Lust and love intermingle as we make love.
My hand reaching down and deftly caressing her familiar nether regions. Warm, moist and fleshy. How I've longed to touch her. Her fingers thrusting and curling inside me as I arch and moan, so close... So close to my climax when the doors to our chamber bust open. "Fuck!" we exclaim in unison. Those filthy State dogs, how dare they interrupt us.
reaching for my blade and side-arm I hear the distinct click-clack as Jesia cocks her assault rifle.
Ducking beneath a hail of firey fury spewed forth from the muzzle of her weapon, I glance back and admire her beauty for a split second before gutting the nearest State trooper.
I'm a lucky girl, and a pirate like myself could do much worse.
A shot fired, missing me by bare milimeters, a blood curdling scream on my lips "you bastard, I'm not losing my Crystal implants!" I hear Jesia laughing, the scent of sex, blood, adrenaline and cordite...

The red heat and blood lust subsided. Standing there - both bloodied and nude - we surveyed the scene. Twelve State troopers sent to kill us. Twelve mangled corpses on the floor. I laughed and looked at my love, a wolfish grin creeping across my face. We moved as one and embraced, glad to be alive and celebrated - making mad, passionate love amongst the wreckage and gore.

Holding her in my arms, feeling her warm smooth flesh against mine, I smile, "something tells me we may just need to clean up." She giggles and smiles, dragging me to our washroom "come on."

Later, official enquiry:
I walk in still wet from my shower, Jesia right beside me. Officials stepping out of our way, it seems reports of our fight has gotten out.
Not bothering to salute any ranking officers - we storm into a meeting in progress. The station manager and head of security jump and stare at us. "I want to know how those troops got through security and where they came from," I demanded. The two men look at eachother then to us. Jesia's hand on her hip just above her pistol grip, a light and battle trained stance, the cold steel in her eyes saying more then actions. My hand resting on the hilt of my blade, Guristas emblems glinting in burnished gold on the sheath.
I nod and she smiles, walking slowly with feline grace towards the chair the head of security is sat. With a look of sheer terror he speaks "they came on a transport from Nuvoulainen late last night. We don't know who they are, or where they originated from, but those weren't real State troopers. They have been looking through our station logs of pilots, ship types and cargo." He fell to his knees and whimpered, jumping at the quiet chuckle coming from me. I look at Jesia and smile, turning around and walking out, shortly followed by my love.
I look at her from the corner of my eye. "I know, something isn't right to me either," she says, taking my hand and grinning, "we can always take a vacation, and I know how much you've been wanting to break in the command chair of my Kronos." We laugh and walk hand-in-hand to our new quarters.

That night:
Burying myself in her arms, I look up and kiss her gently. We lie like that for awhile, watching the lights of the ships docking and undocking, the dancing lights of many ships. She holds me close and kisses me back, "how long do you think they'll take cleaning up? I miss our own quarters." She sighs and rests her cheek against my head. Burying myself deeper into her arms, I look up at her and smile "that shouldn't be a problem. They should be finished by the time we get back from our vacation."

Wednesday, 26 August 2009

Ooh, what a pretty explosion.

0430, home station:
Recovering from my sleep cycle, I look over to the beautiful woman beside me. Slipping out of our shared sleeping bay, stalking across the floor like a spectre, I look out of the viewport.
My small collection of ships - Frigates, Cruisers, Battlecruisers and two industrials docked next to the majesty of a Kronos class Marauder belonging to Jesia, my love.
Amazing to see her in the heat of battle. The cool, level headed commander, such beauty in her physical form yet a mind as sharp as a well honed Sansha blade. Sometimes I wonder why I could never encourage her to feed upon that bloodlust and turn to the dark side of piracey - but it'll never happen.
Sitting on the edge of the sleeping bay, I caress her soft, smooth skin and smile as she stirs and blinks up at me. "Goodmorning my love," as I kiss her forehead tenderly. She giggles and holds me close. For a moment - only an instant - I wonder if this life of death and destruction is worth it. Then I remember my childhood. The death, destruction and suffering that Caldari State troopers caused to my family.
I shake my head clearing the thought and before I know it, she pulls me into a close embrace. A kiss from those tender lips. All thoughts, memories and worries melting away.
I kiss her again, goodmorning and goodbye as I call my crew quarters, "I want my Drake prepared and ready for launch." The acknowledgement grumbled through the comm link, I turn back to Jesia with a grin...

1741, a short dressing down:
Staring blankly at my Myrmidon class Battlecruiser through the station viewport, balacing my books. My CEO has ordered me to replace some of the modules from Canyew's lost ship. I would hate to replace every ship I destroyed.

As boredom steps in, I call the crew "prep the Myrmidon for flight, we'll earn some money."
My agent - like an insidious parasite - thought it was a good time to bore me with courier jobs. Ferrying one's own assets around the void of space is fine, but it's another to move the assets of some self-centered egomanic bitch where so ever her whims dictate.
A total of 28 jumps and a meagre 8 million earnt. I would've earnt more moving other capsuleer's trash around New Eden. Maybe I'll try that some time, but at the moment, I'm earning more money and having much more fun sewing chaos destruction.

As I was losing the will to continue this existance, I got a message from a friend simply stating "graveyard shift." Those two words lightened an otherwise slow and tedious day - or is it three, I'm never sure.
The chronometer on the console stated 2056, only a few hours.

0450, zero hour:
I arrived late, the neutral station having already been besieged by a mix of a Moros class Dreadnaught, a Megathron and Abaddon class Battleships and a Harbinger class Battlecruiser for 50 minutes. The familiar voice of 'Dame Death' coming over the neocomm as I decloak and order a sustained volley at the tower, "so nice of you to join us, Dossie. I even managed to drag Mei away from her planet-side hobbies." A chuckle from Mei as she grins wolfishly into the Neocomm video display, her Gallentean accent colored by that of the local Guristas "what would it take for me to get you out of that little Manticore of yours?" Sitting back, I smile benignly and close my eyes, "I seem to remember your favourite ship to fly is an Incursus or some variant of that hull if I recall."
A slight cough and a curt nod from Naut as Dame relays the current situation.
Station seiges were never my idea of fun, but my Gurista friends always make the most boring things interesting. Shared stories and the friendly banter that comes from shared dangers and experiences.
A great end to a day, the explosion was quite impressive, but I just love to watch things go boom.

Tuesday, 25 August 2009

Dirty pirate bitch.

Pastures new, and some close friends in need.
I bid farewell to Amoredcore - Armed Forces and join my carebear friend in her Corporation. I use the term 'carebear' in the most loving terms this time - as opposed to it being an insult. This Corporation has three of the cutest female capsuleers I have met, and one of the most irritating paranoid fools, too.

A short farewell as I salute my former boss in AC-AF with no fanfare, nor ceremony. I am on a mission. No one harms my friends and gets away with it.

An interesting welcome to this new group. I was expecting an order to stand down, dismebark and watch my ship get blown into firey oblivion, but mining Corps do things differently.
There I was in an unfamiliar ship, a Retriever class mining barge staring blankly at the archaic mining technology. Why I trained for that ship escapes me, but it could be due to the fact that I would love to fly every ship in the known Universe. At least once. But still, I'm a combat pilot and not used to the controls or handling.
Let me just say, I've known wrecks move faster then this ship - and under their own power - but that's not the worst thing.
It's defensive capabilities are worse then and undefended station, and offensive? The only weapons you can fit are Drones and my skills in Drone control are tentative at best.
Anyway, back to my welcome party - or should I say mining op. It was fun to sit back and float in space and take some time to just talk to friends. What am I saying? I must be going soft. But bare with me.
Some time after the fleet disbanded, I went back into my Manticore. This is my new favourite ship, who doesn't enjoy the ability to warp under cloak? So, I was flying around, exploring my new home system and spied two Corp members; Aani, one of the afforementioned cutest female capsuleers I know, and Canyew. What an idiot, I don't like him and didn't from the moment I saw him. There is something about that leering grin and and dim radiance in his eyes that makes me think 'beware the snake.'

Here is what happened upon our first meeting in the same system:
From Neocomm logs
---- Channel ID: 2141317198 ----
Dossie Kielle > should I? *She looks into her Neocomm innocently and shrugs.*
Zack Kheolis > heh
Aani Lanaii > hehe
Canyew > Dossie, stop!If I lose this fucking hulk, I will murder you!
Dossie Kielle > *Sighs drmatically ad tries not to giggles.*
Zack Kheolis > *Grins and stifles a chuckle.*
Aani Lanaii > She just likes to play.
Canyew > It isn't fucking funny.
Dossie Kielle > I... I... *Sighs in exasperation.*
Bartul > Canyew, she's not going to blow up your hulk.
Aani Lanaii > He didn't know.
Dossie Kielle > I could've. *Giggles*
Zack Kheolis > Uuh I so want to be evil, but I can't.
Canyew > Fucking do it again and I will shove a Hyperion up your ass.
Zack Kheolis > *Chuckles* Chill Canyew. Ease up.
Aani Lanaii > What's a Hyperion?
Zack Kheolis > Hyperion class Battleship. *He said linking the ship type to Aani.*
Zack Kheolis > Yep, I like it.
Bartul > Ouch. *Chuckling quietly to himself.*
Canyew > I am not in this corp to be fucking target practice.
Dossie Kielle > They were missile hugs... *I said, sighing again*
Bartul > Where be Concord?
Dossie Kielle > Scared?
Aani Lanaii > They went to get donuts. *Trying to keep a straight face.*
Canyew > They just made me paranoid of my own Corp members, stay the fuck away from me.
Dossie Kielle > You can't keep a good pirate down. *I touch myself and giggle, blowing a kiss over the viewer.*
Bartul > Canyew, seriously, drop the language please.
Canyew > I don't need a trigger happy person to fire at me becuase they won't get Concorded. Get another person to do that.
Dossie Kielle > ONE volley. *I cried in dismay, wondering why he took it so seriously.*
Canyew > You didn't even ask, thats the point. I came out here to mine with Aani, I don't need you to shoot me without a reason.
Dossie Kielle > If you want, I can get my heavy combat fit Drake? *I ask with a glint in her eye.*
Aani Lanaii > Canyew, I need to haul my stuff.
Canyew > If you want I can just leave the Corp and you can fight Concord.
Aani Lanaii > Dossie stop egging him on.
Dossie Kielle > I'll shoot Aani, but don't know if her shield systems have a big enough buffer to take a direct hit.
Canyew > Leave me alone.
Dossie Kielle > But... You... Bit... *I sigh again, exasperated.*
Zack Kheolis > *Giggles and looks away for a moment.*
Canyew > Unless you want to pay about 70 - 80 million to replace my Iterion Mk 5 and the ore in, unlock and leave me alone.
Canyew > That is it. *As he disembarks into his escape pod*
Dossie Kielle > There's an Iteron in this belt with no owner... *I grin maniacally.* And the only pilot I have know can fly that is a very bad girl and about 30some jumps away. *Sighs*
Are you going to grab your Hyperion? *I idley fire a volley of torpedoes at the abandoned industrial class ship, taking most of it's armor.* Is the hold full?
Canyew > With Aani's ore...
Dossie Kielle > I can replace that. Fireworks! *I cry as I order a second volley to be fired, sitting back as I watch the beauty and chaos of the explosion out of the view port.*
Aani Lanaii > I needed the ore...
Dossie Kielle > I'll replace the ore Aani, it's no problem.
Canyew > I will make sure I will post that to Vestri you fucking bitch. I stood in the fucking corp to help Vestri move ore and mine for her, I could of stayed in wormhole spacve with one of the Compass Corps. I don't fucking need this shit. Come out you worthless bitch. *He screamed over the neocomm.*
Aani Lanaii > I'm sorry doss, I love you, but that was uncalled for. He just came out to mine with me.
Dossie Kielle > I can replace the ore, and he started complaining when I shot once.
Aani Lanaii > I know, but that means you shouldn't have harassed him further then... you could have just shot at me.
Dossie Kielle > Don't encourage the encourageable.
Aani Lanaii > I had 2 cans in there, not to mention his own stuff.
Canyew > She doesn't care, if I am going to be a target for the corp pirate bitch I am going to leave.
Ryo Kheolis > Don't be so touchy.
Dossie Kielle > Yes, I am a pirate bitch, and if you appologise for calling me that and not taking a simple wave of hello missiles as they were, then I will just be a thorn in your side. *I smiled sweetly.*
Canyew > I am leaving the corp, I am not here to be target pratice.
Ryo Kheolis > Oh come on.
Dossie Kielle > Touchey. Come to meet all of my pirate friends. *I link a system in the neocomm with an open pass into Guristas territory.*
Canyew > Chat logs have been saved and I have mailed Vestri.
Dossie Kielle > Killmail should've gone to my Killboard, I'll link it for you if you want.
Canyew > You, are a nasty bitch.
Dossie Kielle > *I bow low, grinning like the fabled Cheshire cat.*

I refunded Aani her ore in liberated minerals and hope she forgives me for any trouble I may have caused.
As to Canyew? As he said: I'm the Corp's pirate bitch. And I refuse to change.

Sunday, 23 August 2009

From Rokh to riches.

Quietly I sat there awaiting the order. My shuttle on a low orbit of the third planet in the Arnon system, a skeleton crew on board.
The order came "Dossie, warp to me at the following co-ordinates and jump through the wormhole." I chuckled, adrenaline surgeing through my body. Calling over the Neocomm "roger that, initiating warp."

Looking through the view port, the magnificence of a wormhole surrounding as as we slowly approach to jump through.
Another moment of waiting. "If you could warp to within 5 kilometers it should be easy for me and my crew to take this boat."
Extending the docking tube I look at my crew and smile. This wasn't a new drill for them, but as the Rokh class Battleship was sat outside the shields of the nearby station, it would be an easy theft.
"Set self destruct on this tub and we'll board the Rokh gents, lets leave this idiot a thank you present."

Plugging myself into the ship systems, sirens began to wail, the station defenses were locking on to the stolen ship, "boys, lets get this ship out of range of these guns - it was an easy job, but I'd rather not lose this to automated defenses." An acknowledgement over the internal comms channels, I switch to the universal communications and send out a message to anyone and everyone listening. "Yoink, thank you for the new ship, have a nice day."
Smiling to myself as we drop out of warp, the wormhole back home coming into visual range. "Thank you gentlemen, that was a good job, lets get back and figure out what to do with this ship."

Private communications log:
An angry looking Minmatar came into view, his eyes looking, measuring as he sneers at the young Achura.
------- Channel ID: -1582179 -------
Dossie Kielle > Hello, do you own that station?
Enfoe > Youu were saying in local. We own many stations.
Dossie Kielle > ';..;' Ring any bells? *Linking the ship specifications.*
Enfoe > What the fuck are you doing bitch?
Dossie Kielle > It was outside the station.
Enfoe > You took that boat ?
Dossie Kielle > Would you like it back?
Enfoe > Indeed...
Dossie Kielle > *I smiled* How much are you willing to pay?
Enfoe > You keep it mate, we will just dec the fuck out off your Corp.
Dossie Kielle > That's the wrong answer hunni, I'll just sell it.
Enfoe > No problem, you do so and your Corp will pay for your theft.
Dossie Kielle > It's not theft, I was picking up a discarded asset you left outside of a station shield.
Enfoe > Like I said keep, it give our empire crew something to do.
Dossie Kielle > I would also like to point out that this is just 1 of the many forms of piracey we pilots of New Eden do.
Enfoe > I've been piloting starships for many years, you're not going teach me anything. But some Corporations you don't fuck with, and you will learn this sooner or later.
Dossie Kielle > Oh hunni, I'm so scared.
Enfoe > So keep the boat.
Dossie Kielle > I could sell it back for a nominal price of 400 million.
Enfoe > You're nuts. That boat is not worth more then 230 million, plus I don't want it back now.
Dossie Kielle > I'll be willing to go down to 350.
Enfoe > The owner says to give you 260 million.
Dossie Kielle > Okay, give me 260 million and I'll concider it.
Enfoe > You think I'm a nerd or something?
Dossie Kielle > No my dear, I think you're stupid. But what of it?
Enfoe > What of it? Tell you what, fuck you.
Dossie Kielle > I've had a thought. 275 million and it's yours.
Enfoe > Okay, bring it back to the wormhole. *He frowned.*
Dossie Kielle > How about I just set up a contract, saves me losing my implants and crew. *Smiling as she brushes some hair out of her eyes.*
Enfoe > It's no good to us in empire space.
Dossie Kielle > Gallente Federation are fine with you, it's a contract or no deal. And I was a very silly girl and forgot to bookmark the known space entrance to the wormhole.
Enfoe > Are you stupid? We don't need it outside of the wormhole.
Dossie Kielle > No dear, I'm not stupid enough to walk into a trap.
Enfoe > Then keep the ship and sell it for what ever. 300 million is a drop in the bucket.
Dossie Kielle > I contracted it for 275, there is a wormhole into the system the contract is in.

The screen went blank.I chuckled to myself as I look at the ship in the hangar through the view ports. Another beep and another call, this time it was the owner of the ship. A young and tired looking Caldari.
---- Channel ID: -1582798 ----
Greyfish > Hi. *He sighed.*
Dossie Kielle > Hello.
Greyfish > I thought I'd ask nicely for my ship back. I cannot afford to lose that at the moment.
Dossie Kielle > I'll give you the same offer as I gave your friend. In fact no, I'll be nice and say 280 million.
Greyfish > You are going to still ransom the ship? And be uncool I guess to say. How is your mother?
Dossie Kielle > Quite like me, a complete bitch. Why do you ask?
Greyfish > I've got 280 million... *He sighs again.*
Dossie Kielle > One moment please. Contract is up.

That was a good day of earning.
Smiling to myself as I call my Corpmate and transfer 140 million into his personal wallet, "that is yours for finding the ship, thank you, this was a productive day."

Saturday, 22 August 2009

Tomorrow is another day.

I smile. The past few weeks have been a living nightmare, moving my assets around space. But will it be worth it?

After a sad - but hopefully temporary - farewell to my friends and compatriots of the Guristas, I set out for pastures new. This new Corporation are fresh meat to turn and form however I can.
I have heard the ravings of the old men in my father's business meetings and paid them no heed. "The grass was greener on the other side?" Most of them have never seen grass, let alone seen the other side of anything but the asses they were kissing.

Five weeks ago:
A slight shudder of my Badger II then a fimilliar voice in her comm link "we're dropping out of warp speed, Captain. ETA to our new home in T-minus eighteen minutes." A chuckle escaped me as I imagine the havoc I could cause in my new Manticore class stealth bomber sat in the hold. "Very good crewman. As soon as we dock, I would like my new toy fitted and prepped for launch, we'll show these soft Empire pilots how to fight."

With an interesting new visitor to my favourite haunt - Section 8, I thought it would be a good idea to catch some well deserved rest. After all, tomorrow is another day. What was it my grandfather used to say? Oh yes: deal with the hand you're dealt and always keep a few kings and aces up your sleeve.
I think you were right, grandfather, and I intend on using them.