Tuesday, November 8, 2011

The Impossible Project

I was standing in front of yet another scratchy and badly lit Minmatar mirror in yet another station somewhere in Molden Heath. I was getting ready to jump to another clone in another region where I had a stack of Rifters. This station is also close to where the Black Guards of Mr. Nash Kadavr are running their operations. Now, this is a bunch of pilots to be respected, but after the wrong pronunciation of R1FTA’s full name in an audio broadcast to the community of capsuleers, my fellow R1FTA director, Kaeda Maxwell, had decided it was necessary to punish them. So we were at war at the time. And I figured I ought to make an effort in this war. Hence the forthcoming clone jump. But I hesitated.

I hate clone jumping. It’s messy and you get kind of confused and unconsentrated. And I am already that by default.

My mind was wandering. I looked around. Damn, I wish those Gallente architects and interior designers would get some better quarters ready soon, I’m getting sick of the pointy scrap metal all over the place. When spending a lot of time inside overheated Rifters, entering a Minmatar quarter isn’t exactly what you would call a good and healthy change of scenery. It doesn’t exactly sooth your mind. I need some fresh, posh and good looking Gallente quarters soon. To cool down my head.

I need that. When am I gonna manage to keep my head cool? Project Love Boat isn’t exactly going as panned. I have been pushing my love boats into impossible situations whenever I’ve had the chance. I thought the special and sometimes expensive fittings would put me off risking too much. But no. I am still throwing my ships up against the unknown. And even the known. Engaging Alex ‘Jaguar God’ Medvedov’s Jaguar – with my Federation Navy Comet (Cassiel)... was, well, not so wise. Too long since I’ve been managing drones, so that small flight of ECM-drones didn’t help me escape either.

So. Project Love Boat is not going too well. I have updated the statistics for it. It is grim reading. My fellow rebel Tomba’s words of wisdom are still ringing in my ears: “This project is against your nature, Saftsuze. It’s as if you were going to live in a monastery as monk.”

He is right. I am not the cool and clean killer I’d like to be. I am an adrenaline junkie that hungers for destruction. That’s why I fly. That’s why I only dock when I need to repair my ship, my moustache - or get a new one. A ship, that is, not a new moustache! But, I want to become better. I want to loose less ships, and I want the others to loose more.

But I need that rush. I need fresh bodies in my cargohold. I need stolen modules in my hanger. I need screaming ships on fire and sweat dripping from my moustache.

Better get that clone jump done with. I feel a strong urge to undock. Careful Consideration, level 5, has been pushed further back in the queue.

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