Possible character origins

Eucleides:

Male

Amarrian

21 years of age

Capsuleer: 3.5 years; May, 2008

Became capsuleer after talked into it by old friend, Tulkikis. Started as mission runner, left the pod to travel for 2 months after mission-running corp war-dec'd. Came back

to old corp, continued mission-running. No reason to mission other than financial. Dabbled in null-sec wars and faction warfare. Returned to missioning. Tired of killing invaders, ventured to low-sec to join a pirate Alliance. While not all that lucrative, the pirate life ended up being enjoyable. Currently stuck in Brin system with -7.42 security status.

Ligand Nital:

Female

Minmatar

20 years of age

Capsuleer: 10 years; Eve year: current-10

Industrialist, mining orientation. Currently inactive, but can use tier 3 exhumers(maybe T2 Exhumers, ex. Hulk). Near perfect refining, can make a fair amount given enough time. Capsuleer because it's tradition for her family. The Nitals become capsuleers at age 10 and usually join the war effort against the Amarrians. Was not interested in fighting, traveled New Eden looking for work as a miner. Met Eucleides during her travels, became good friends, benefiting each other, esp during Euc's time in piracy.

Abby Baxter:

Female

Caldari

19 years of age

Capsuleer: 10 months

While her parents were away in Amarr space, one of the first Incursions happened above the planet her parents were supposed to be on. After not hearing from them for over a month, Abby became a capsuleer in order to search for them and to fight the wretched Sansha. Because of Amarr inaction in the area to defend against the Sansha, Abby blames them for the kidnapping and possible death of her parents. Biased against Amarrians, and taught from birth the hardships Caldarians faced from the Gallente, Abby is Caldari to the bone, choosing to fly ships of the state only. While traveling through Caldari space, Abby helped a Minmatar industrialist being attacked by Sansha frigates. Though the Mammoth was in no real danger, as the damage was not enough to penetrate its shields, the pilot was grateful and started a conversation through the neocom system. This is how Abby and Ligand met. Through Ligand, Abby was introduced to Eucleides. Abby was wary of Eucleides at first, considering her past history. Though Euc was not near them, as he was stuck in low-sec, the three kept in touch.

Goals: Abby is training to be useful as a member of an anti-Incursion force within Caldari space. Always on the lookout for any sign of her parents, she does not think twice about engaging enemy Sansha fleets in missions, even despite unfavorable odds. She hopes that one day she will find a Sansha willing to talk, and find out what happened to the two important persons taken from her so abruptly. On the other hand, Abby has also become fond of the aspect of capsuleer fighting, after hearing stories from Euc. She has especially taken a liking to the aspect of mercenary work and hopes to one day join the Noir. Mercenary Group, if they'll take her.

The Longing

Abby looked out the station window as she sat at her desk. It didn't matter that there was nothing but cold, unforgiving darkness out there. It called to her. However, because she had become a capsuleer at a young age, without the necessary need for parental consent, her contract with the cloning facilities mandated that she take classes for a few months at a time before she would be allowed to fly again.

“Miss Baxter, would you care to explain what it is you find so fascinating out that window,” the middle-aged teacher at the front of the room asked.

“N-nothing, actually, ma'am,”Abby stammered, “it's just...calling out to me.”

The room filled with murmurs and snickering.

“What?! It's true! Geez, you all have no imagination, huh?”

“Imagination is not what we're here for,” came a voice from the back of the room.

“Yeah, well it's not like I chose to be here, either way,” Abby replied.

“Enough! Miss Baxter, you are the only capsuleer in this class, and while we welcome you, please restrain yourself from being a nuisance.”

“Yes ma'am.”

“Now, we will continue on page 36 of the text, 'Caldari Foreign policy during peacetime'.”

“You should really stop daydreaming in class, Abs,” chided her good friend Vel. Vel was a mortal. A station dweller on his way toward a promising career under the Caldari Ambassador for the Minmatar. 'Though brutish and violent, they have a way of making the other races-even us Caldari-look like primitives,' Vel had told her, once. He was stout, atypical of a man of his character. Although he was shorter and a little pudgier than most Ashura his age, he made up for it in strength, wisdom and kind attitude.

“Well, it's not my fault they put me in the only class that goes to rooms all on the OUTSIDE of the station. It's just cruel. And I thought I told you to stop calling me 'Abs'!”

“Psh, I will never stop calling you that, you know it. And I seriously doubt they put us in those rooms purposely because you're in the class. It's gotta just be coincidence.”

Vel gestured at the window in front of them. “At least none of the windows let you see this. It would drive you insane.”

Abby scoffed. Their view through the window was of the undock area of the station. All the ships coming and going, idling or zooming around. It put her back in her drake, taking orders from her various agents, going and destroying enemy ships. She did not like to think of the people inside. Most of those ships were not capsuleer ships, and had a full crew, which ranged in number from 100-1000+ depending on the ship size. Abby had chosen not to run with a crew, as she tended to be somewhat reckless in the field and would feel guilty about any unnecessary deaths. It also doesn't help that she's only nineteen and most crew personnel would never work under such a young captain, not if they didn't have to.

“So when do you go back out,” Vel asked.

“Another couple of months, during our 'winter' break. We get a month or so off, right? So I'm going to take that time to make some contacts. Try to get some information about my parents. There's this new news group, Tech 4 News, they did a piece on wormholes and those 'Sleepers', and I figured if they're really into wormholes, they must have information on the Sansh-”

“SHHH Shhh Shh shh!! People are already jumpy, they don't need to see-slash-hear a capsuleer,” Vel motioned at Abby, “getting all worked up about them.”

“Oh please, like hearing a name is going to incite a riot.”

“If you wish to start the Caldari/Gallente war again, you only need say two names to the right groups of people,” Vel stated matter-of-factly.

“Okay okay...but the hive, and their leader won't do that. Hell, the worst that could happen is that people start spreading rumors of another, nearby attack. Which, yeah I could get in trouble for, but people aren't going to flee the station. You all will sit in here nice and cozy unless a 'Mom' shows up-”

“Oh good lord! Have you no tact, woman!?”

“Veliander Caroose, love ya and all, but even for a politically correct fool as yourself, you've got an extra-rigid stick up your ass today. What's bothering you?”

“L-love? Wait, no, not the point. The 'stick up my ass' is that...well, I don't know. You just don't seem to care about what anyone thinks of you. You daydream all day, speak out of turn, speak about things that you really shouldn't, considering you basically work for the State, and if you get caught speaking like that...there will be dire consequences. And just think what will happen to me if I'm near you when that happens!”

“You'd probably lose your chance with the Caldari ambassadorship, but I would expect the Matari would love you,” Abby stuck her tongue out at Vel just to make sure he knew she was joking.

Abby awoke to the blaring alarms within the station and the garbled station comms yelling something monotone at the inhabitants. Abby wasn't too worried. The mortals had the safety of the station, and she was immortal, practically. So everyone SHOULD be safe from it, whatever 'it' was. After clearing her mind and waking up a little more, Abby heard the announcement much more clearly.

“Attention, attention. An artificial wormhole has been reported in the Region.”

“Well...FUCK,” Abby exclaimed as her doorbell sounded under the din of the announcement. “Well, c'mon in, this can't get any worse of a morning.”

“Abby,” Vel's voice was weak and full of fear, “Abby where are you?”

“On the couch, come sit here next to me!”

Vel entered from the front hall by the door and planted himself between Abby, on the couch, and the holographic screens on the wall. “How can you just sit there so calm? There are Sansha in the region! God, what am I going to do?!”

“Vel, a couple of things. One, you have never been religious, so don't ask 'God', he'll never answer. Two, you need to calm your shit, or explain to me why you're a nervous wreck all of a sudden. They aren't in this system so even if they attacked stations, we'd be okay.”

“They're reportedly in my home system! I know my family are all in stations, but...if I ever lost my sister, I don't know what I'd do. How do you cope so well? Would have thought you would be one to go defend...why aren't you?!”

“Alright, now you're just being an ass. Cope?! Who the fuck can cope with family just up and disappearing, eh? You don't...and I never will. And as you already fucking know, my hangar is locked off from me because I'm not licensed. I would love to go out there, shoot any and all Sansha I can find, but I can't. So I shall sit here, brood on this fact, and rely on the other capsuleers to do the right thing.”

Ninja and her friend WIP

“Alright Abby, you all set?” Tulkikis messaged in the private channel.

“Yep, it's all on you now, mate.” She replied.

“Okay, well, here goes nothing, then.”

'Hey, I just accepted a level 4 class mission, but all I have is a Battlecruiser, my tank should do just fine, but could some one help a bit with the damage side of things?' Appeared in the System messaging box.

Silence. Absolute silence. During the intense wait, Abby could feel the anxiety building, this plan would work, and it would work well, they just needed a person or two to respond.

Please, dammit! Just answer the man! Someone here has got to be enough of an idiot! C'mon c'mon c'mon c'mon! C'MON!!

Abby stirred in her pod, in her Heron frigate, waiting impatiently to hear from Tulk about someone contacting him to help.

“Anything, Tulk?”

“Hold on, got a private message going, it's looking promising.”

“You bastard, could have told me sooner, I'm over here freaking the fuck out!
“Yeah yeah yeah...”

“Yeah what?”

“...1 sec”

“What? What the hell is going on over there?”

After a minute of so without a response, Abby got even more restless. She wanted to do this, she was waiting for the chance to use her skills for something new. What Tulk, Ligand, and Abby and come up with was an elaborate way to essentially scam people. Ligand had had a conversation with some other capsuleers about something called ninja salvaging. The basis was that you probe down mission runners, hopefully doing level 4's, and then run in and salvage the wrecks and get out as fast as possible. However, with the tactic Abby and Tulk were using, they would get some one to “help” Tulkikis on a level 4 mission. After a while, Abby would try to find Tulk ASAP using her little probing frigate. Once Abby had found and gone to Tulk, running missions, she would use her ship, be it frigate, destroyer, or cruiser, to salvage the wrecks in the mission. If the helper was deemed enough of an idiot, Tulk might be able to get them to shoot at Abby-she chuckled at the thought-if she did ever get shot at, well then CONCORD would have a few words about NOT shooting random neutrals in space with a .5 security status or higher system.

Oh fuck it, I'll at least start getting ready. Abby thought to herself. And with a quick thought began launching a group of four combat probes. Tulk's in a BattleCruiser, I'll see if I can find him real quick before I need to get focused. Abby went through the process of setting her probes and scanning around.

After a minute or two she had found a few Battlecruiser signatures. She refined her searches and pinned down each one til she found a signature that was by the station Tulkikis was supposed to be by.

“Hey Tulk, it's been a while. Any good news?”

“Yeah, we got one. He's only a cruiser, so we're waiting for a Gunnery support skill to finish its first level real quick. Should be only another couple of minutes. Anything on your end to report?”

“Pretty sure I found you, you ARE outside of Penirgman IX Internal Order station, right? I'm getting a Harbinger reading near that station, and if that isn't you, then that's going to be a slight problem.”

“Should be me. I'm not seeing any others on my overview. It's actually kind of creepy how fast you're doing that nowadays.”

“Psh, it really isn't that hard. And I especially don't see why people need 5 or 6 probes, I use 4 and can usually get 100% signals in a minute or 2.”

“Exactly, creepy fast!”

“Hahaha, I suppose. So this guy is in a Cruiser class, what kind?”

“Omen, guy's name is...”

“I don't care for names, long as we get the salvage, and maybe a little loot :D,” Abby thought out the text for the neocom chat with Tulk.

“Yeah yeah yeah, well you don't have to deal with these little dumb-asses.”

“Neither do you, really. Just tell them go for anything destroyer or below, maybe a cruiser if they can handle it, and just make sure they don't start looting til the mission is over.” Abby recalled a situation a day or two ago where the “mark” had started looking in the middle of the mission. Started grabbing all the best-named stuff he could find. Tulk noticed that wrecks were starting to go empty, and mentioned it to the guy. No reply. So Tulk effortlessly dropped him from fleet. Without noticing that he had been de-fleeted, the idiot took loot from the closest wreck, which would not have been his, so he became flashy red to Tulk. They brought in Ligand as support, her first combat kill.

Abby kind of wished she could be in Tulk and Ligand's Corporation, but to continue the illusion of a ninja salvager, she couldn't. One of these days soon the three of them would have a small meeting and see if they couldn't come up with a way to get away with ninja salvaging-with a likelihood of getting shot at- while in the same corp. The only thing Abby could think of is to start going around, and take, while not in fleet, from one of the wrecks they know is the “mark's” in the hopes that it makes her flashy red to him/her. If it does and she gets shot at, then Tulk would turn his attention straight to the guy, de-fleeting and hopefully popping him. It's just unfortunate how many new capsuleers are coming out of the academy less stupid than they used to.

“Alright, we're on our way off,” Tulk let Abby know, “going just right of the sun...20k au. Will let you know distance from the sun when we land.”

“Cool, I'll have to wait for you to land to start the probing. Is there an acceleration gate?” Abby replied.

“Yeah, there is, not sure if you'll have to deal with it or not if you come here. No rats out there, plenty in here though. And we're actually only about 15K au from the sun now.”

“Okay, thanks, I'll start my side now.” Abby made a mental note, I'm looking for a cruiser and battlecruiser in close proximity to each other, not all that far off from the sun. She fired off the next salvo of probes and began the fun, quick task of finding her friend. Cruiser, Battlecruiser selected. System scan, okay. Localize it. Got the two signatures close to each other. Get the battlecruiser first...done, bookmarked, now onto the cruiser. La la la la...oh sweet, right on top of each other. Should be them...HOPE it's them. Abby finished the scanning process, started her warp to station to get her cruiser, returned her probes. She thought about how silly the fitting on her Caracal was. Two Salvagers and three Heavy Missile Launchers in the highs, a fairly nice local shield tank in the mids, and some supporting mods for the lows. As well as a cap rig and a couple shield rigs. But really, who puts more than one salvager on a cruiser? Destroyers, of course, they were made for salvaging, but cruisers? Heh. This should catch our guy off balance.

Abby undocked in the ship, named “Loki”, after the old world's Norse god, who caused much mischief. She quickly warped to the bookmark she had for the Battlecruiser, letting Tulk know with a quick “On my way in, I think.”

“Good, there is plenty for you to grab, we're about 2/3 to half way through. Be wary though, there might be another wave or two,” warned Tulkikis.

“That's cool, this should be able to tank enough for me to get out in time. Even if I am in structure or something.”

Abby landed on the acceleration gate Tulk had told her about. She activated it, and all the shield mods in her mids, just in case. Inside the mission area, dozens of little yellow wrecks appeared on her HUD and Overview. She cracked her knuckles and neck inside her Pod, let's do this. She began the slow, arduous task of flying from wreck to wreck, doing what she could to get some good salvage and checking to see what loot the wrecks had, if any. Suddenly she heard the ever-threatening noise of the auto-targeting system. Her mark had just locked onto her. So he isn't THAT stupid, eh? Or maybe he IS, but he got the Concord warning about not shooting others lest you get punished? She was about to ask Tulkikis if he knew anything when a salvo of lasers hit her shields. He fired? Did he really? She checked her HUD to be sure. The guy had indeed fired at her, she was guessing as a warning shot, and now he was facing the wrath of those almighty “Cops of the Stars,” Concord.

“Permission to troll in local?” She questioned her older Amarrian friend.

“Duh! I can't believe you haven't already! Seriously can't believe he did that. His Pod is sill here; is he still red to you?”

“Yeah, I think so? I'm going to pod him if I can.”

The Future is now!

Actually, no it isn't. So, I was able to get online for a few days thanks to some promotion for 5 days free, that was good, got Abby nicely along for going into exploration and such. Which brings me to the point of the title. My RL buddy who got me into Eve and has been on hiatus for quite a while now, really wants to get back in the game. We've been attempting to figure out what our course of action will be once it gets to be a time that we can sub without repercussions (after school is out and final exams are over). Neither of us have ever put a concerted effort towards trade and manufacturing, nor have we done any actual exploration within New Eden. So the preliminary plan is to spend the first 1-3 weeks just mining the hell out of everything. During this time, we'll be watching the prices of different things to figure out what to manufacture, and then sell sell sell. Won't be that simple, I know, but again it's just preliminary planning. All the while, skills will be learned, bought, learned, and so on. Onward and upward towards...whatever we decide. For me, the first thing I'm doing when I get back in is either buying the exhumers skill and training that to 3 on Ligand, or I'm getting Abby into a cruiser with T2/best-named fits. Cruiser TBA, but the Navy Caracal looks nice (and it goes along with my friends exploration-based Omen Navy Issue), though a blackbird wouldn't be too bad an idea. I just can't ever remember if you can jam NPC's in anomolies, DED spaces, etc.

Oh, I should explain who Abby is and what-not. Abby is my to-be main. Eucleides is my almost 3yr ex-main, who I had do piracy and now has a -7.42 sec status(kind of useless in long run, now). Ligand is the second oldest. She's an industrial/hauler-based pilot. And Abby is now...3 months young and will be PvE oriented. I look forward to using Abby, as I'm trying something different with her, I'm going to see how RP works. Will probably be talking to Angus, the filthy role-player, from Fly Reckless podcast about how he got into RP and how he's able to keep it up. *snicker snicker...w/e*
I am setting some boundaries to the RP, though. I will probably not be speaking in character to my RL buddy while we are doing our whole thing. And this blog will be for both RP and not. Public chats that #tweetfleet members will be in...are up in the air about the RP, imo.

I have a couple of posts coming eventually. One is on how unsubbed people can be involved in the community without having an actual character. The other is a short story on the origins of Eucleides and my RL friend's toon, who will remain anonymous for the time being.

Well, that's the sitch at the moment. I'll attempt to keep you all up-to-date...ish.

Eucleides aka Ligand Nital aka Abby Baxter

How long has it been?

So, I realise that I've kind of let this blog get all cobwebby and what not, but since I don't have a sub during my time at school, there's not really a use for keeping this up. However, after talking with a member of #tweetfleet-Asheyna-I've decided that I need to at least TRY to keep this updated. I will prolli be doing mostly origin fiction for my Eve characters, Euc, Ligand, and newest member Abby. Euc is, of course, a pirate, and (was) my main. Ligand is a miner/hauler right on the verge of finally getting a Hulk. Abby is going to be my misc alt. I'm hoping to get her to either do Incursions, WH exploration, or maybe-and this is a BIG maybe-get her in Noir. Academy and eventually in Noir. for merc work. She'll do a lot of combat, whether that turns into PvE or PvP, remains to be seen.

Later folks,
Euc

A little bit of Fiction

Abby looked out into the empty darkness, willing herself to be out there. But that was quite the impossibility as her only ship in the station was being upgraded with some good armour rigs. To the civilians passing behind her, she must seem so lost, so out of place. The station is not a place for a capsuleer, the pilots of New Eden, it was for the norms. She felt at the base of her skull, just under her flaming red pony tail. The small indents in the skin and the cold metallic disc protruding slightly out of her head only seemed to make her more self-conscious of how different she was from the people around her.

She hadn't always been that way. Not all that long ago she also had been a “civie”. The hustle and bustle of station life in those days were what she knew, what she had come to love about her life off the planet.

“You're new to coming into station, aren't you?” came a voice from beside her. Startled, she took a half step away from the man who had suddenly appeared. “Oh please, I don't bite, honest. Well, at least not in here. Out there,” the man nodded out the glass window before them toward the blackness, “out there is a different story.” The man finished his sentence with a little wink at Abby.

“And who might you be, sir?” Abby asked the man.

“Lord, I'm not that old, no need to be so formal. But to answer your question, my name-or I should say, what my friends call me- is Euc. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Baxter.”

“Say what now?! How in the name of Jove do you know my name!?” Abby was more uncomfortable than she was angry, but she still wanted an answer.

“Whoops, well, cats out of the bag it would seem. Now, this will more than likely not make things any better, but the truth is that I've been watching you, Miss Baxter.”

“No, that really doesn't make this sound any better. In fact, I'd say it's a bit worse now. Do you REALLY know who I am?” Abby had gone from uncomfortable and slightly angry to scared and really pissed. It wasn't that he had suddenly shown up, she'd already waved that off as just a coincidence, it wasn't that he knew her name, he could have easily found it on the roster and looked up her information in the Concord database. What pissed her off and scared her was that in a station like this, out of her ship, she was completely defenceless, and she'd left herself completely vulnerable during her daydreaming.

The man turned to her, completely calm and even with a slight smile on his face. He lost a few more points in Abby's mind for that smile.

“You are Abby Baxter, 29 years of age, home planet Jita 4, capsuleer license JR-49-E3-3. Jita registered, 49^th in the the academy-out of what I can only assume to be 500, or so-signed for Et al., and this is your third month out. 15 kills (5 of which are pods), 3 losses, no pod deaths. Security status, well, it WAS -7.36, currently at .043.” the man leaned in slightly, motioning for Abby to do the same. “I also know that you have a 35 million ISK bounty on your head.” The pair straightened back up. The man, who called himself Euc, checked over his shoulder at the security office up the walkway. That's when she noticed the circular metal sticking off the back of his neck.

“You're a cap-!”

“SHH, not so loud!”

“You're a capsuleer too?”

“Indeed. But unlike you, I have a few...complications.”
“Compli-...like what?”

“Well, unlike you, my security status is still quite negative, enough so to make me a supposed hazard to the people of the station. I'm technically restricted to my pod.”

“How did you get here in the first place, you couldn't have made it here through Empire space.”

“Oh, no, clearly that would cause an unnecessary risk to me. I jump cloned, of course. But once I got here, I was 'Confined to my room during my stay, to ensure the safety of the people. Please pardon the inconvenience.'”

“Okay...so, I really shouldn't be talking to you, then. I mean, if they see us together when you get caught, I could be in serious trouble.”
“Well I'm hoping that this will not take so long as to allow me to be found missing.”

“And what, exactly, is 'this'?”

“'This' is a job offer.”

“Look, Euc, as you probably saw from my kill-mails, I work alone.”

“Yes yes, preying on week old capsuleers and the occasional hauler or mining barge whose pilot seems to have fallen asleep. But would you not like more? Would you not like to work towards bigger and better prey. And a seventy-five percent chance of popping something cruiser sized or bigger?”

“Yeah, but no one can guarantee those kind of odds. I mean, not every system has the idiots to allow something like that. How can you make such a claim?” Abby was intrigued but confused. During her time outside of Empire space, she'd only been able to kill anyone that was unlucky, or just plain stupid. To think about getting on multiple kills a day was just a little too much.

“I work for a Corporation run by pirate capsuleers. I'm sure you've heard of New Eden Renegades.” After providing the corporation name, Euc gave a smile from ear to ear.

Abby perked at the name of the corporation. New Eden Renegades, a rag-tag group of pilots who had too much fun doing what they love. They're philosophy was 'This can only end well'. Frigates, cruisers, the occasional battlecruiser, and skill. This comprised the NER. Most of the pilots had at one point been a member of Hellfleet, another pirate group. NER was supposed to be the best of Hellfleet, and while it was fairly new in existence, had already achieved a fantastic amount of kills.

“You work for them? Like, seriously?”

“Indeed. Also, sorry about your Moa, I'm willing to partially compensate the loss.”

“What are you...” Abby thought back to the day she lost her Caldari cruiser class Moa. Thought back to the kill-mail she got from the fight. Tried to remember the name of the pilot. 'E..Eu...Eucleides!' “Holy shit, that was you!?”

“Indeed. Now, if you can walk, I can talk, seeing as how I should probably get back to my quarters.”

“Uh, yeah, I've nothing better to do until the rigs are installed.”

“Good! Shall we,” he motioned toward an elevator down the walkway, in the opposite direction of the security station.

Abby took the time to finally look at the man she had just met. He was tall, bald and wrinkly, like her grandfather had been last she saw him on Jita 4. But unlike her grandfather, this man, as old as he might look, carried himself upright, was quite muscular for his apparent age, and spoke with a hidden dignity, a sense of self higher than many of the civilians on the station would dare to dream of. He was Amarrian, but acted nothing like one. He was polite, humble, and his gesture of compensation for her loss had caught her completely off-guard. Amarrians were known to be, well, to put it simply, dicks. They were stand-offish, prissy, money hoarding bastards with a God complex. Everything they did was for the faith. Civil rights was unheard of within the Amarr Empire, as was seen when they enslaved the Minmatar for years. This man, this pirate, had none of that. He was friendly, too polite for his own good, and Abby doubted that anything he did was by the will of any God. But the tricky thing about the situation, Amarrians, by nature, hated everyone, and this concerned Abby as to how Euc could be as he is, considering his background.

“So, shouldn't you be detailing how God chose me or that I'm a sinner and should be punished or something?”

“Hahaha, no no no. I lost my faith when I became a capsuleer. You become such an independent that you realise that you really don't need the Empire anymore. And no, I don't hate Minmatar. In fact, I have a good friend who is a Brutor. She's a capsuleer as well, but she mines, makes ISK and will give me a portion from time to time. Heh, I've even got a nice ol' Minny battlecruiser waiting for me at home once we're done.”

“Okay, say for a minute I believe you and say yes to your offer, what do I get?”

“The satisfaction of blowing ships up and the respect of your mates, like me.”

“That's it,” Abby asked, a little disappointed, and it came out that way.

“If you want a steady salary for your combat, go join a mercenary corporation. All of us at NER are self-sufficient. We all have industrial friends that help us out with ISK. Maybe it's time for you to make friends too, or get one of your friends from home to come join you up here.”

“No, no, my friends and family kind of hate me for leaving them. Capsuleers are looked down on in my city. Hell, we're in space and we're looked down on by all these people.”
“True, true. Well, then I suggest that if you DO accept the offer, you make friends with some of those sweet, innocent, high security industrialists. Anyway, this is my stop, I look forward to your answer, I will give you some time to think about it.”

As Euc disappeared into a dark, narrow passageway, Abby looked around confused. She had been so lost in conversation that she hadn't been paying attention to where she had gone. Suddenly a disembodied head appeared out of the dark passageway, “You'll want to go back that way,” he nodded back down the hall to Abby's right, “take care now. Hope to see you soon. Oh, and try to message me before you leave here, we'll let you know where we're at, and you can go straight there if you feel like it.” With that, he put on his big, cheesy grin-which looked quite awkward on an Amarrian-and disappeared back into the darkness in front of her. Abby doubted that the gap housed any quarters, it was probably vents and machinery of some sort.

“Well now what do I do,” Abby posed to herself. She had been planning on going back to the system she was based out of for her piracy and going back to sitting around, waiting for those few who were unfortunate enough to get caught. But now she wasn't so sure, would she give up her lone wolf reputation at 'home' and go meet people and have more fun killing many a ship, or would she stay, keep her rep and stay the unfriendly pirate she had been for the past month? She decided to go back to the docking area and think about it over night. By that time, the rig modifications would be complete and she would be able to leave at a moments notice. She came out of the cold, dank hallway into the main thoroughfare. She was getting hungry but her only ISK was digital, and since she was a capsuleer, she was not allotted a credit disc due to her temporary time on the station.

When she got back to her quarters, she laid down on her bed. Her pod casing perched on the wall across from her. She started drifting to sleep as she laid there, thinking about the past few hours. She thought of the mysterious pirate, the offer to join him and his friends. The realisation that these people had also destroyed her ship once before. She'd think more about it as she dreamt. She was certain she'd have an answer in the morning. She looked at the clock on the wall to her left, 02:00. Not a bad bed time for such a strange day.

So, this is just a little something I did for my fiction writing class. I'm hoping to expand it, like, a lot. Next saturday I'll ACTUALLY be in game for a bit, so that'll be fun. Later!

Blog Banter 21: Low Sec and you

The UI told me it would take 5 seconds to target the small craft that had just undocked, not knowing what awaited the newly licensed capsuleer.

“That's not nearly fast enough,” I yelled at the computer. In such a small craft as a frigate/newb ship, the recent undockee could easily warp to a gate and jump out of system before my Battlecruiser class Hurricane could lock it up. However, whether it was due to lag or player error, the frigate just continued to soar away from the undock area lazily. By that time the innocent young character had been locked and scrammed. In a Hurricane, or most Battlecruiser class ships really, it takes but a few volleys to take out a frig. I chose to savour the moment, my first-but not nearly my last-solo kill in low-sec. I waited a moment, the dual webs and the scram humming over the speakers; interspersed with the sound of sentry gun fire gleaming off my ship. My armour was down to about 75% now so I decided to align to a safe and begin the destruction of the little ship in my grasp, a Velator I believe. Aura so nicely informed me, as well as a little pop up notification, that my security status had been lowered. Heh, that wasn't nearly low enough. Surprisingly I got the pod and my Security status fell another fair chunk as the capsuleer was sent home and their frozen corpse was left outside the station. Now at this point I was becoming annoyed with the sentry guns, who were still pelting me for quite a bit and had succeeded in getting me to about 30% armour. I warped off, and proceeded to 'belt-hop' looking for more action, as my GCC ticked down.

I write to you now because a question has been posed, by numerous people, as to what lowsec is good for, and how can we make it better.

I have had my fair share of time within Eve. I've been a missioner, in an Alliance that was allied with Kenny, shot my fair share of Minny militiamen(been blown up by them too, run NPC protection for my industrialt's old corps' Mining ops, and done more missioning.

With missioning, the initial rush when you enter an area and your overview fills with red, begins to die off after you run "Ruin their morale" Level 3 a half dozen times and the closest level 4 is 12 or more jumps away, you start getting bored with life. Though, when I was using my friend's account I almost cost him an Abaddon on a Level 4, damn the little frigs that warp disrupt you >.<.

Null sec alliances are fun, organised(somewhat) and can-in some instances-kick a lot of ass. But during my time in GBC I had no useful skills and even less as far as PvP ships go. I went on corp roams that usually resulted in little to no action or major gank-dom. The major action my corp saw was some of us got to fight for 49-U. There was also the time that the incoming enemy ships warped to the same planet we had randomly chosen only moments before. That was a quick fight and 95% of the fleet was popped. Though we were able to disable the cyno that had been lit, I believe. The downside to nullsec is that it is either too cluttered, or too damn empty. Plus I'm pretty sure that I have membership to half a dozen forums now.

Faction warfare. Interesting, sometimes fun, but for the most part, annoying as hell. My corp stationed in lowsec a little ways from Amarr solar system. Little did we know that, for the most part, lowsec faction warfare consists of meals either running away never to be seen or heard from again, or being blobbed by groups twice our size. Got sick of that real fast.

With the mining, I made, well, my alt made a lot of ISK and I started gathering ships of various types to mission or mine in. But then we got griefed by some members of...either the Minmatar or Amarr militia, and the corp moved way far away. At this point I had to stop playing anyway because I was starting college. I came back 9 months later to mission and be super carebeary again, and made a fair amount passively running missions in my Drake. Again, that got boring kind of quick.

And so, this past summer, I fought alongside a group that know what they're doing and actually like it. This group is Hellfleet. After joining them, I found that I still lacked in the area of good pvp ships, and what larger ships I had were not fit to their best ability. I had fun and killed a lot. I died a few times, yes, but mostly to sentry fire in smaller ships. However, during my time there, I noticed a few things.

Lowsec, unless it is a well known/travelled, prosperous area, is typically dead silent. (No duh, it's space, of course there's no noise) You shhh, y'hear? A number of the kills I got in on were newer characters, mostly alts, who shouldn't have been venturing to low sec yet. Our home system had a number of belts, some nice mission agents, and a ship graveyard. The first kill I got with my Sentinel was on a Coercer in the Graveyard. The player was maybe a month old at best. Another time we caught a Domi running a mission, and another time a Megathron mining in a belt. I caught a few guys, even tried a ransom on one, who were ratting the NPCs. But you don't get nearly enough by ratting, and running the Gravesite or a mission has more risk than reward. What can be done to make it so that pirates like myself can get plenty of targets-and maybe make ISK somehow-but at the same time, pull in others but keep them safe, or create the illusion of being safe. Basically, how do we fix lowsec.

Personally, I couldn't tell you specifics. I wasn't down there nearly long enough to give the BEST opinion on the subject, but after reading blogs of corpmates, of former corp members cough Mynxee cough and of other pirates. I think I can give at least AN opinion on the subject.

What can be done? Well, here's what I believe:

GCC and Sentries: We need to fix GCC in some way, shape, or form. It's too long, and far too limiting from a pirate perspective. Once you are rewarded (or punished, depending on your point of view) with GCC, you must either have a God-like tank to be able to continue to hold out for extended periods of time. Or you need to have enough EHP to last another 30 seconds or a minute without engaging some one in order to dock and fix your shit.

Now, what if a Corp or Alliance chose a lowsec station as their Headquarters, and bought offices in said station. Perhaps a benefit of paying for the use of the station could be that members of that Corp or Alliance would be afforded special perks. Such perks could be lowered GCC times and little to no Sentry gun interference. Outside of that stations view, at another station or asteroid belt, your GCC might stay the normal 15 minutes and sentries would still shoot at you; but around that station you call home, engagement would have lessened repercussions. Though your security status might still go down like normal. But what pirate doesn't strive for -10?

Eve Online: Corruption was proposed years back and has features that would work perfectly for a more intricate version of the above. Basically Corruption has the idea of being able to pay off Concord in some way to nullify engagement repercussions. It goes even further with an option of having a teeter-totter system. Teeter-totter in that depending on numbers, bribes, or some way, the engagement would have different effects. If the system were more positive, then pirates would have more problems after engaging some one. If the system were more negative, then carebears could be in more danger.

ISK: Due to the fact that the majority of lowsec inhabitants have security statuses lower than -3, they are fairly restricted in the amount that they can do in Empire, if they can even get in. Of course, a number of them have alts that make the ISK that allows them to continue their PvP habit. But couldn't there be a way for lowsec itself to have some sort of economy? I can't say a lot on this subject since I've never really been into Eve's economics. However, I would say that implementing something limited to lowsec only, that can boost the economy and perhaps help generate ISK for lowsec-ers.

Carebears: How do we pull in more prey-I mean, players-from their “safe zones”. Well, it should be shiny and valuable. Minerals/ore that is typically found in null sec, and have it in random belts? Probable belts? Or probable belts that require a specific key entry acceleration gate-could be done similarly for missions(?)-in order to protect the miners somewhat. To be honest I don't think I can say much as far as this goes. My carebear experience is limited to Empire space mining and missioning. The biggest threats I've faced in that respect are rats and a lack of tank, can flippers, or the ever fun disco-Battleship. Most people would hire protection in this situation, but what if you could hire NPC pirates for protection? Have a bunch of powerful Gurristas Battleships flying around you. Or pay off what Concord might be around to spawn Sentries that follow you around? Plenty of options I can't think of at the moment, others will have their own ideas.

Overall safety/General rules: Basic rule of Eve, no matter where you are, don't fly what you can't afford to lose. If you go to lowsec, be prepared for the worst, hope for the best. If you go there expecting to make ISK, also expect that you could lose more than you make. Lowsec is not a matter of how LONG you've played, but of how WELL you've played. Three years experience means nothing if you can't counter a month old player attacking in a Cruiser or Frigate. If you mine or mission, be aligned to a safe spot, planet or gate. If you pirate, always have safe spots, and I would go so far to suggest playing a little conservatively. If your target is your size or bigger, you may have to use surprise to gain an advantage.

To sum up, there are things that COULD be done to lowsec, but there is a possibility to make a living in lowsec how it is. Stealing from Dane Cook, lowsec is like the friend everyone hates.

If you're a carebear, it's dangerous, but possible to thrive. If you're a pirate, it's harder, but with a little help it is also possible to thrive.

That's all I've got. Fly safe -or don't- and kill lots.

Eucleides

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Will Turner: You cheated.
Jack Sparrow: Pirate.