Tuesday, 27 October 2009

The beginnings

Guristas. A name that strikes fear into the heart of young and old Eveians. I am Mail Lite of The Guristas Associates. I am a Pirate.

This is my ongoing story from a Pirate hunter, to becoming one of those I despised.

Flying my trusted Rifter I engaged Guristas pirates on a daily basis out of my home system of Malkalen, on behalf of the Mercentile Bank. I was entrusted with the security and protection of those assets. I would fly my trusty little ship into battle again and again to take down those that threatened my masters lively hood.

I had no good reason for becoming a Pirate Hunter. The ISK from these small ships sometimes barely covered the ammunition and repair costs. And the prizes I received from my hirers were meagre to say the least. After a while my trusty Rifter became a rusty Rifter so it was time for an upgrade. I had kept some ISK safe for a while and it was time to spend it. A Thrasher was my next boat, one of the Destroyer class of vessels. I reported for duty and was assigned to investigate the never regions of my system. I scanned. I hunted, and finally I came across a small pocket of resistance. I had them. I flew in close. Ripping them to shreds with missile and ammo alike. This was good. This was what I wanted. The destruction of others.

I then happened to meet an acquaintance of mine in a bar. He had become rich beyond my wildest dreams. He flew a beautiful ship. Small and fast but easily a match for ships a lot larger. The Taranis.

He became a regular drinking buddy. He flew in the lawless space regions and would destroy no only the wrong doers of that system. He would destroy any ship he could. He did what I craved. He pushed himself to the limit of everything and made his isk while doing it. He told me what to do to become one of his fleet. ‘Become a better pilot’ he said. And he left. I haven’t seen him for a while now. However I did get a present. 20 million ISK and a logbook. The 20 million ISK came attached with a single word… VEXOR.

The logbook, when downloaded, showed the skills I needed to become the pilot of the Cruiser class ship. Drones, it said, will be your biggest ally in the times to come.

So I trained. I used my skills to acquire what I needed and wanted. I became a modest Vexor pilot. But still something was wrong. I was doing what I was told to do by my employers, my battle record against the pirate organisations became great and I was given new and even more dangerous assignments. But something was missing…

During one engagement I hacked into the Pirate log of Spectre5535. He was not in the area at the time. I am certain that it did not come from one of the Guristas Pirates I was currently destroying. Maybe it was a rogue signal? Who knows.

What I do know is that I was hooked. I read and re read that log. Each day checking for new entries. This person was leading the life of a Pirate and, in doing so, was making himself infamous. I read about his engagements, his partners in crime and his advice to people who decide to follow this way of life.

I had spent months, since first buying and fitting my freshly assembled Rifter in trying playing the ‘good guy’. In amassing ISK. Buy larger vessels to take on larger enemies of the state. And yet here I was. A ‘good guy’ reading the tales of the enemy and, in doing so, finding a life that appealed to me.

So I went back to Malkalen. I handed in my resignation, I sold my ships, I sold my modules. I sold all my earthly possessions. Except one…

The first ship. My rusty Rifter. I fit it to a specification I had found while trawling the logs of Spectre. I then headed to a system known not to be policed by Concord.


By this time I had managed to hack myself into the communications used by a feared pirate corporation called The Python Cartel. In this channel I met some of the people I had been reading reports about. Feared and deadly people.

In Aurohen I set up some deadspace spots. Places I could look for targets in my thirst for combat without being vulnerable to others. I used my directional scanner to see if there were any other pilots around. Yes, but they were in far larger vessels. There were Cruisers with their drones out and Battlecruisers with guns larger than my entire ship! No way was I intending to engage one of those. Then I saw it… A Procurer mining barge in an asteroid belt. Alone.

I pounced. Warping to the belt I felt my heart begin to beat faster, and the closer I got the faster it beat. I arrived. The Procurer wasn’t more than 9000km away from me! I’m not to sure what happened next. It is all a bit of an adrenalin rush blur. I targeted the Procurer, I engaged my engines and my warp disruptor within seconds. He was now pinned down and couldn’t get away. Success. I kept an eye on the readout from my directional scanner. Noone within 10au other than this procurer pilot. I activated my threes 200mm Autocannons when I was 1000km away. I watched his shield drop down. No return fire. No activity within 10au still. My radio channel with all local pilots listed stayed at a constant. Armor. Still no response from the Procurer. Was its pilot asleep? Or drunk? Who could say? Structure. Nothing on scan, no-one was coming to help this pilot. Finally movement from the Procurer. He targeted me. Locked. His engines go critical, igniting the combustible fuel cells stored in his cargo bay. I see the Pilot shaking his fist at me through his pod window as he waprs away to safety.

I don’t hang around to look at the wreck. I warp back to a deadspace area that is safe and think about what just took place. I just attacked a harmless pilot. No reason or rhyme to this. Just because he happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, within the same system as someone who is starting his decent toward piracy and becoming a wanted outlaw.

To Be Continued...

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