I guess I am just jumping on the bandwagon here; I have never had any dealings with GoonSwarm other then popping a few of their ships when they ventured into Low Sec space.
However I am looking forward to reading the interesting blog posts that will undoubtedly come from this and to getting home and reading up on the EvE-O forums. (Not accessible from work, evil net police!)
I’m not going to give any reasons to what has happened to GoonSwarm as a number of other blog writers have done it quite nicely.
Jump on contact
Newbation
In other news, while the Rabbits were watching a Low Sec/High Sec gate in one of our surrounding systems last night, a fleet of anti-pirates decided to try and engage us.
They had us outnumbered in ships and had both ECM and Logistical support. Our excellent FC weighed up the options and decided not to engage and to quit the field. They had the tactical advantage over our own fleet. Due to this withdrawal an amount of one way smack talk ensued in the systems local channel.
My one and only response was our alliance motto ‘All for the good of money’
Fly dangerous o/
Showing posts with label TGA. Show all posts
Showing posts with label TGA. Show all posts
Wednesday, 27 January 2010
Thursday, 21 January 2010
Mail Lite's Back Story Continued
Once in Ishomilken I rented a small apartment close to the hanger where my ships were stored and kept functioning by the repair crews. After unpacking I decided to try the local bar. On arrival the place was empty, not surprising for the early morning, most of the patrons would either be nursing a hang over in their bunks or started out early to make some ISK. No one was in sight to serve me so I sat on one of the stools and started pursuing some logs I had downloaded.
The information I had downloaded were the new list of ships destroyed by The Guristas Associates over the last 24 hours. I started with the most recent and looked and the list of people and ships that were involved in each engagement. Most of the Alliance seemed to favour larger ships. They seemed to use large numbers of Battle Cruisers, Heavy Interdictors and even the awesome Battleships. I clicked my screen over to show the ships available for sale in the region. I had had experience flying Gallente ships in the past, the Vexor being among them, after scribbling down some details I decided to see about getting myself something to eat.
As no one had yet appeared to serve me I clicked into the station database to see if there were any other establishments around where I could find some food. There was one other. The Pirates Warren. On the other side of the station. I decided to give it a try. I pocketed the datapad I had been reading and patted my pistol holder to assure myself that I was there and left the deserted bar. Walking for about 10 minutes to the other side of the station I saw barley a soul. The station seemed deserted. I had looked through the details of the station before arriving and knew that there was not a lot of money to be made in this system. Not from legitimate sources anyway.
Upon arriving at The Pirates Warren I almost ran head long into a young woman as she left. She had the look of a Caldari, high cheek bones, small mouth, large blue eyes, and her long black hair was scooped back into ponytail. She wore the overalls of a ship mechanic. She glanced at me and smiled before hurrying towards one of the stations many ship hangers. I entered the bar to find it a lot more active than the last. I placed my order with the rough looking bar assistant. Lighting a cigarette I took a look around the bar. Focusing on each patron for a second to commit there features to my cortical implant and assessing any threat levels.
There were a few men in one of the booths that lined the walls of the bar. They were wearing long tatty brown leather coats over black overalls. Some adorned with decoration or armour plating, some not. All had holstered pistols at there waists. They were talking in hushed voices and pursuing a datapad and a number of parchments. Even with a hearing implant I could not hear their discussion.
I moved on to the next patron. He was also wearing a brown leather jacket but this one had yet to lose it’s new shine. He wore black denim trousers and black boots. A silver chain hung from his left wrist. He has no visbale weapons and was reading a news sheet while sipping a coffee. The last two customers were female. They seemed to be mechanics of some sort. Tool belts at there waists and grey overalls. Not ship mechanics as they normally wore black overalls and didn’t carry their tools with them, station maintenance probably.
The bar assistant arrived with refined bacon, genetic eggs and wheat toast all washed down with some coffee. It wasn’t bad, well worth the 20ISK paid. I ordered another coffee and started reading a news sheet which had been left on the table next to mine. I started with the sport pages as normal the Minmitar league had started the previous evening with all 40 teams in action. My money was on the Ualkin Dogs this season. There starting line up was one of the best in years. I thought I better try and find a betting shop sooner rather than later to make sure I got in while the odds were still high. The Ualkin Dogs had one there first game 23-0 with no disqualification or losses of life. Not a bad start at all!
I was just finishing reading about the destruction of one of the other teams when the lone customer finished his coffee and stood up. He glanced around the room, nodded to the bar assistant and started toward the door. His path took him past the group of three men, they stopped talking as he approached and their hand started to lower towards their weapons. ‘Guristas Scum’ one of them muttered as he passed. The man carried on walking but I did notice his eye’s flash. He must of heard the insult but decided not to react.
‘Did you here me you pirate scum?’ asked the man who had already spoken.
‘I did, whats you problem?’ asked the pirate.
‘One of your fucking pirate friends destroyed my Hoarder last night. It had over 20 million ISK worth of cargo! You owe me that money!’
‘I’m sorry but that’s the law of space. If you were stupid enough to lose it then you don’t deserve to be flying out there. I don’t owe you a penny. Take it up with the station officials.’
‘You…’ The man who had lost his ship and his two friends shot out of there seats and un-holstered their weapons.
‘You fucking will give me back my money you piece of shit.’
The pirate gave a sigh but stayed completely still ‘Trust me you do not want to do this. You will not win’
I had seen enough. I started to rise from my seat; my hand on my weapon but the pirate gave me a look that plainly told me to stay where I was. Winked and then, with a flick of each wrist a knife appeared in the throats of 2 of the men. The third man, the one who had lost his ship and cargo, raised his pistol to fire but the bar assistant was quicker. Lifting a projectile shotgun from under the counter he shot the pilot in the chest, lifting him up and slamming him against the wall.
‘Cheers Reciter, I wasn’t sure if I could get that last one before he got me. He was quicker than I thought he would be.’
‘Not a problem dude, they picked the wrong bar to threaten a pirate in. you would think the name would give it away wouldn’t you?’ said Recieter, the bar assistant with a laugh and while putting the shotgun back under the counter.
The pirate was leaning over the corpses of the dead men, withdrawing his knives from the throats of the two he had killed. Wiping the blood off the knives on the trousers of the dead men ‘Yeah, you would think so wouldn’t you’
The pirate stood up and looked over at me. ‘Reciter, can you drag these guys out to the refuse shoot. I think we’ll get rid of them without inviting the autorities in this time. Also make sure you get their tags and codes if you can. Might as well have a look who they were and what they fly’.
‘Sure, no problem’ Reciter agreed and started to get large black bags from under the counter to wrap the bodies in.
Meanwhile the piarte had started towards me. I lowered my hand to my holster, just in case it was ‘get rid of the witness’ time. The two female mechanics had barely looked up during the fight, used to it I guessed, maybe they were friends or family. The pirate sat opposite me.
‘Mail Lite right?’
‘Might be, who’s asking?’
‘My name is Lacham, I fly with The Black Rabbits Academy and I read the application you made to join us. I noticed you as soon as you came in. You can take your hand away from your weapon now.’
I did, I had read of this pilot whilst researching the corporation and alliance. He had a long list of kills, longer than most within the academy.
'How did you know it was me? I didn't provide a description or holopic.'
'You think we don't have ways of screening pilots who have applied? Just take it all at face value and bleieve everything you say on your data pad? You think we're that lax about security?'
I guess that made sense.
'Did you go all the way back?'
'Yes' Lacham confirmed, looking me directly in the eye.
'So you know...' I hesitated.
'Yes we know, but we will discuss that later' Lacham looked at the datapad he had just taken from his pocket.
‘Why do you want to fly with us, and more importantly why would I want to fly with you?’ Lacham asked. In the background I could see the bodies of the three men being wrapped in black plastic by the bar assistant.
‘Because I want to learn this way of life. I want to prove myself in combat against the biggest ships, show that strategy overwhelms might. You will get a dedicated, hardworking wingman in me. You will get support and loyalty. And if everything works out. You will get a pirate’
‘Come with me’ said Lacham.
I stood up, left a few ISK on the table as a tip, and followed Lacham out of the bar, stepping over the last of the bodies on the way out.
The information I had downloaded were the new list of ships destroyed by The Guristas Associates over the last 24 hours. I started with the most recent and looked and the list of people and ships that were involved in each engagement. Most of the Alliance seemed to favour larger ships. They seemed to use large numbers of Battle Cruisers, Heavy Interdictors and even the awesome Battleships. I clicked my screen over to show the ships available for sale in the region. I had had experience flying Gallente ships in the past, the Vexor being among them, after scribbling down some details I decided to see about getting myself something to eat.
As no one had yet appeared to serve me I clicked into the station database to see if there were any other establishments around where I could find some food. There was one other. The Pirates Warren. On the other side of the station. I decided to give it a try. I pocketed the datapad I had been reading and patted my pistol holder to assure myself that I was there and left the deserted bar. Walking for about 10 minutes to the other side of the station I saw barley a soul. The station seemed deserted. I had looked through the details of the station before arriving and knew that there was not a lot of money to be made in this system. Not from legitimate sources anyway.
Upon arriving at The Pirates Warren I almost ran head long into a young woman as she left. She had the look of a Caldari, high cheek bones, small mouth, large blue eyes, and her long black hair was scooped back into ponytail. She wore the overalls of a ship mechanic. She glanced at me and smiled before hurrying towards one of the stations many ship hangers. I entered the bar to find it a lot more active than the last. I placed my order with the rough looking bar assistant. Lighting a cigarette I took a look around the bar. Focusing on each patron for a second to commit there features to my cortical implant and assessing any threat levels.
There were a few men in one of the booths that lined the walls of the bar. They were wearing long tatty brown leather coats over black overalls. Some adorned with decoration or armour plating, some not. All had holstered pistols at there waists. They were talking in hushed voices and pursuing a datapad and a number of parchments. Even with a hearing implant I could not hear their discussion.
I moved on to the next patron. He was also wearing a brown leather jacket but this one had yet to lose it’s new shine. He wore black denim trousers and black boots. A silver chain hung from his left wrist. He has no visbale weapons and was reading a news sheet while sipping a coffee. The last two customers were female. They seemed to be mechanics of some sort. Tool belts at there waists and grey overalls. Not ship mechanics as they normally wore black overalls and didn’t carry their tools with them, station maintenance probably.
The bar assistant arrived with refined bacon, genetic eggs and wheat toast all washed down with some coffee. It wasn’t bad, well worth the 20ISK paid. I ordered another coffee and started reading a news sheet which had been left on the table next to mine. I started with the sport pages as normal the Minmitar league had started the previous evening with all 40 teams in action. My money was on the Ualkin Dogs this season. There starting line up was one of the best in years. I thought I better try and find a betting shop sooner rather than later to make sure I got in while the odds were still high. The Ualkin Dogs had one there first game 23-0 with no disqualification or losses of life. Not a bad start at all!
I was just finishing reading about the destruction of one of the other teams when the lone customer finished his coffee and stood up. He glanced around the room, nodded to the bar assistant and started toward the door. His path took him past the group of three men, they stopped talking as he approached and their hand started to lower towards their weapons. ‘Guristas Scum’ one of them muttered as he passed. The man carried on walking but I did notice his eye’s flash. He must of heard the insult but decided not to react.
‘Did you here me you pirate scum?’ asked the man who had already spoken.
‘I did, whats you problem?’ asked the pirate.
‘One of your fucking pirate friends destroyed my Hoarder last night. It had over 20 million ISK worth of cargo! You owe me that money!’
‘I’m sorry but that’s the law of space. If you were stupid enough to lose it then you don’t deserve to be flying out there. I don’t owe you a penny. Take it up with the station officials.’
‘You…’ The man who had lost his ship and his two friends shot out of there seats and un-holstered their weapons.
‘You fucking will give me back my money you piece of shit.’
The pirate gave a sigh but stayed completely still ‘Trust me you do not want to do this. You will not win’
I had seen enough. I started to rise from my seat; my hand on my weapon but the pirate gave me a look that plainly told me to stay where I was. Winked and then, with a flick of each wrist a knife appeared in the throats of 2 of the men. The third man, the one who had lost his ship and cargo, raised his pistol to fire but the bar assistant was quicker. Lifting a projectile shotgun from under the counter he shot the pilot in the chest, lifting him up and slamming him against the wall.
‘Cheers Reciter, I wasn’t sure if I could get that last one before he got me. He was quicker than I thought he would be.’
‘Not a problem dude, they picked the wrong bar to threaten a pirate in. you would think the name would give it away wouldn’t you?’ said Recieter, the bar assistant with a laugh and while putting the shotgun back under the counter.
The pirate was leaning over the corpses of the dead men, withdrawing his knives from the throats of the two he had killed. Wiping the blood off the knives on the trousers of the dead men ‘Yeah, you would think so wouldn’t you’
The pirate stood up and looked over at me. ‘Reciter, can you drag these guys out to the refuse shoot. I think we’ll get rid of them without inviting the autorities in this time. Also make sure you get their tags and codes if you can. Might as well have a look who they were and what they fly’.
‘Sure, no problem’ Reciter agreed and started to get large black bags from under the counter to wrap the bodies in.
Meanwhile the piarte had started towards me. I lowered my hand to my holster, just in case it was ‘get rid of the witness’ time. The two female mechanics had barely looked up during the fight, used to it I guessed, maybe they were friends or family. The pirate sat opposite me.
‘Mail Lite right?’
‘Might be, who’s asking?’
‘My name is Lacham, I fly with The Black Rabbits Academy and I read the application you made to join us. I noticed you as soon as you came in. You can take your hand away from your weapon now.’
I did, I had read of this pilot whilst researching the corporation and alliance. He had a long list of kills, longer than most within the academy.
'How did you know it was me? I didn't provide a description or holopic.'
'You think we don't have ways of screening pilots who have applied? Just take it all at face value and bleieve everything you say on your data pad? You think we're that lax about security?'
I guess that made sense.
'Did you go all the way back?'
'Yes' Lacham confirmed, looking me directly in the eye.
'So you know...' I hesitated.
'Yes we know, but we will discuss that later' Lacham looked at the datapad he had just taken from his pocket.
‘Why do you want to fly with us, and more importantly why would I want to fly with you?’ Lacham asked. In the background I could see the bodies of the three men being wrapped in black plastic by the bar assistant.
‘Because I want to learn this way of life. I want to prove myself in combat against the biggest ships, show that strategy overwhelms might. You will get a dedicated, hardworking wingman in me. You will get support and loyalty. And if everything works out. You will get a pirate’
‘Come with me’ said Lacham.
I stood up, left a few ISK on the table as a tip, and followed Lacham out of the bar, stepping over the last of the bodies on the way out.
Mail Lite's Back Story Continued
The travel distance to The Citadel should of taken years, if not centuries. However the Stargates which now connect all the occupied regions of space have made what was once a life journey, into something that takes mere hours.
I had a severe hangover that morning due to the 2 bottles of Rum last night. I reread my application to The Black Rabbits Academy. And decided I probably couldn’t do any better sober than I could drunk so left it as it was. After a quick Bio Shower and a cup of hosgage tea to help ease the hang over, I packed my case, loaded my Rifter, Riffy I and set of for Ishomilken, a system in the Citadel Region . Home system of The Guristas Associates.
The Journey was uneventful until a system only one jump out of my destination. Nikkishina. After almost a year behind the controls I have become accustomed to activating my directional scanner on a regular basis, just to keep an eye on who, and what, is around me, assessing threat levels automatically and keeping my eye’s open for targets or signs of aggression.
My system wide broadcast receiver showed only one pilot other than myself was currently in the system. All ships automatically join this channel upon entry to new systems. You can not get around this so it is a very useful tool, especially if you know how to access a pilots personal information using this link, as I do. I set my destination for the Nikkishina – Ishomilken stargate and engage my warp drives. At the same time I activate my directional scanner. I have another Rifter on scan within 14AU of my current position. Interesting. I decided to investigate this further. I cancel my warp drive activation and adjust my scan range. He’s out that way. Excellent. Towards planet three. Yes. I can’t scan him down to any one astral body as they are all aligned from where I am. It was time for a new plan. I engaged my warp engines and set heading for one of the moons around Planet Three. From there I was able to can the individual orbital bodies of Plant Three, looking for this Rifter pilot. I decided to take a second and check this pilot’s file.
I selected his file. Not a member of The Guristas Associates. That was good. A member of Empire Assault Corp. That was bad. I had heard of this corporation, they had the reputation of putting one ship in a sytem to be engaged by pirates, then jumping through with a number of other ships. He had been a pilot for three months. That wasn’t too bad.
Asteroid belt one.
Excellent, engage warp engines. I landed in the belt 10km from the Rifter. He had renamed his ship in an archaic language, after the fight I found it meant, ‘don’t kill me’. I targeted the Russian Rifter pilot and engaged the warp disruptor. He was locked and he could no longer get away. I approached at full speed. Weaving from side to side to make sure that, if he got a lock he wouldn’t be able to track my small frigate class vessel. At 2000m he finally reacted, turning away from me and trying to make distance. Trying to break my lock and disruptor. Not going to happen, I was faster; I had enough experience with high speed manoeuvres to close the gap to 1000m. My group of 200mm Autocannons engaged and ripped into his shields. He was taking a pounding. He decided to lock and engage his own guns. They did moderate damage but I had enough faith in my Riffy I to shrug and carry on the attack. As he started taking damage to his Armor I noticed another pilot had entered the system. I took a second to bring up his file. Russian. Same corporation as the pilot I was currently engaging. Not good. No ship on directional scanner. Good. The Russian pilot had started taking heavy damage to his structure. His engines were flaming and there was air escaping from the hull of that ship. With a flash, what had once been a majestic Minmitar frigate became scraps of metal littering the number one Asteroid belt at Planet Three in Nikkishina.
I checked my scanner for any incoming ships. Nothing. His back up had decided it was a lost cause and not to get involved. Unfotuantly my little Riffy I was full with my own supplies for my move to Ishomilken so picking through the wreck was not an option. I blew the wreck and anything of worth up and proceeded on my Journey to Ishomilken and the Black Rabbits.
To be continued...
I had a severe hangover that morning due to the 2 bottles of Rum last night. I reread my application to The Black Rabbits Academy. And decided I probably couldn’t do any better sober than I could drunk so left it as it was. After a quick Bio Shower and a cup of hosgage tea to help ease the hang over, I packed my case, loaded my Rifter, Riffy I and set of for Ishomilken, a system in the Citadel Region . Home system of The Guristas Associates.
The Journey was uneventful until a system only one jump out of my destination. Nikkishina. After almost a year behind the controls I have become accustomed to activating my directional scanner on a regular basis, just to keep an eye on who, and what, is around me, assessing threat levels automatically and keeping my eye’s open for targets or signs of aggression.
My system wide broadcast receiver showed only one pilot other than myself was currently in the system. All ships automatically join this channel upon entry to new systems. You can not get around this so it is a very useful tool, especially if you know how to access a pilots personal information using this link, as I do. I set my destination for the Nikkishina – Ishomilken stargate and engage my warp drives. At the same time I activate my directional scanner. I have another Rifter on scan within 14AU of my current position. Interesting. I decided to investigate this further. I cancel my warp drive activation and adjust my scan range. He’s out that way. Excellent. Towards planet three. Yes. I can’t scan him down to any one astral body as they are all aligned from where I am. It was time for a new plan. I engaged my warp engines and set heading for one of the moons around Planet Three. From there I was able to can the individual orbital bodies of Plant Three, looking for this Rifter pilot. I decided to take a second and check this pilot’s file.
I selected his file. Not a member of The Guristas Associates. That was good. A member of Empire Assault Corp. That was bad. I had heard of this corporation, they had the reputation of putting one ship in a sytem to be engaged by pirates, then jumping through with a number of other ships. He had been a pilot for three months. That wasn’t too bad.
Asteroid belt one.
Excellent, engage warp engines. I landed in the belt 10km from the Rifter. He had renamed his ship in an archaic language, after the fight I found it meant, ‘don’t kill me’. I targeted the Russian Rifter pilot and engaged the warp disruptor. He was locked and he could no longer get away. I approached at full speed. Weaving from side to side to make sure that, if he got a lock he wouldn’t be able to track my small frigate class vessel. At 2000m he finally reacted, turning away from me and trying to make distance. Trying to break my lock and disruptor. Not going to happen, I was faster; I had enough experience with high speed manoeuvres to close the gap to 1000m. My group of 200mm Autocannons engaged and ripped into his shields. He was taking a pounding. He decided to lock and engage his own guns. They did moderate damage but I had enough faith in my Riffy I to shrug and carry on the attack. As he started taking damage to his Armor I noticed another pilot had entered the system. I took a second to bring up his file. Russian. Same corporation as the pilot I was currently engaging. Not good. No ship on directional scanner. Good. The Russian pilot had started taking heavy damage to his structure. His engines were flaming and there was air escaping from the hull of that ship. With a flash, what had once been a majestic Minmitar frigate became scraps of metal littering the number one Asteroid belt at Planet Three in Nikkishina.
I checked my scanner for any incoming ships. Nothing. His back up had decided it was a lost cause and not to get involved. Unfotuantly my little Riffy I was full with my own supplies for my move to Ishomilken so picking through the wreck was not an option. I blew the wreck and anything of worth up and proceeded on my Journey to Ishomilken and the Black Rabbits.
To be continued...
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.
Aurohen.
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...
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.
Aurohen.
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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