The Prisoner

“Procurer scrambled. Drones deployed. Webs applied. No enemy drones detected. All systems working and so far no need for overheating. Standing by for new orders.”

Bleak Sins was no longer the puking nervous wreck of a mechanic. He had participated in more than 50 kills now. And never experienced one of my inevitable losses. He was certainly a prime candidate for complacency.

“Alright, invite the capsuleer to our negotiations channel and transmit our initial demands.”

The orbit was established and system intelligence reports were favorable for negotiations.

“Mr. Todorov, would you please consider to make me an offer?”

I try to keep business meetings polite and formal, but in a friendly manner.

“I don’t know, how much do you want?”

I was about to explain my business model of customer initiative when it comes to suggesting the monetary size of a ransom, but then, out of the blue, my customer turned all sour and started screaming!

“At least stop shooting me when we negotiate! For fucks sake!”

What is it with customers these days? They always want me to stop the treatment while discussing business. The really do not value my time very much! I do not work for free and certainly not without risk! Well, I ordered my drones to chill a bit, and tried to get negotiations on track again. It is risky to let the damage application rest, but the system was still calm, and I had already dealt a decent amount of damage.

“OK, let me make an exception and suggest for you that you pay me 25 million ISK to keep your ship in one piece?”

“If you don’t stop shooting me now you get zero!”

He clearly was stressed as I had already ordered my drones to stand down.

“I have already stopped shooting and you have 10 seconds to comply, sir.”

He returned a condescending hiss.

“Who do you think you are?”

I relaunched my drones.

“I get more money from insurance.”

I sighed and shouted to Sins in the cargo hold: “You hear this guy? He really has a lot of nerves while being punched in the face by hobgoblins, eh?”

“Or he has friends behind the nearest gate” Sins replied.

I was probably wrong about my earlier analysis of Sins potential for complacency. That conclusion should have been reserved for me. He was right. We were running a huge risk here.

Our customer interrupted us with a teasing chant:

“Looser! Looser! You have a small dick!”

I was a bit perplexed. Was this someone I had had intimate relations with? What did he know about my private parts? Was there a hacked camera drone inside my pod? A hacked camera drone lacking the warning text “Objects may appear smaller than they are”?

“Looser! Looser! Looo-oo-oo-oo-oser! You get zero! Better kill me fast, bro!”

Maybe Sins was very right. Maybe there was a hot drop incoming? A cloaky Falcon emerging from the space dust? I was actually attacking as hard as I could, but the Procurer-class mining vessels are known to be slow to explode.

“People are coming” my customer proclaimed and followed up with an evil and mad laughter. “You are so weak, dude! You can’t even kill a defenseless miner! Looser!”

More laughter. His armor was almost gone now.

“Is that all you got?”

He started to remind me of some ancient terran holoreel about some knights and a grail and something. “Hey, Bleak, you getting this? He is starting to become really entertaining!”

“You did hear the part about people coming?”

“Yeah, yeah, Bleak, I heard, but he is bluffing. Trust me.”

“As I might have mentioned for you before, Saftsuze, it is a tiny bit harder for us without instant cloning services to take such information lightly…”

The miner was laughing again. A hollow and eerie laughter.

“How much time is this gonna take you, bro? This is just boring, dude!”

“No, no, no!” I chuckled to myself. “Keep it coming!”

I could see bits of the Procurer falling off now. The drones blasters eating away at the inner workings of his hull. And just as the Procurer exploded I swear I could hear him scream with his twisted voice: “What a moron!”

And then there was just a wreck and a frozen corpse in the asteroid field. And quiet. The beautiful quietness after a battle.

“Look behind you, douche!”

Ouch. My customer had been transferred to a new clone but still connected to the negotiations channel. Dammit.

“Did your dick get bigger?”

I tried to feel it. Not really. About the same.

“No, sir, but it sounds like your did?”

“You are so good at killing miners. A real professional combat capsuleer! Just another looser with issues…”

Ah, my customer was a psychiatrist.

“I must admit I do have my issues. The lack of white clothing in the NES store is one example. It is driving me mad!”

He laughed his evil hollow laugh again. Although it was more like a hiss now.

“No, man, you are just low. You can’t fight real combat capsuleers, so you hunt miners instead. If you had any dignity you would go fight combat capsuleers and not miners. You better use the time here while you can because soon you won’t be so lucky.”

I am always amazed how many of my customers that expect my profession to be so honorable and just.

“But, sir, you must understand I have no dignity. Only freedom.”

“No, sir, you don't have freedom you are a prisoner to your low mind.”

Ouch. That was a bullseye. I think I heard Sins laughing in the cargo hold.

“Ah. You may have a point there, actually.”

I must admit it. I am a prisoner of my low mind. And I love it.

Epilogue OOC:

The above dialogue has been edited for your reading pleasure, but is as accurate as possible in regards to content and meaning in the original chat logs (and my added roleplay with my mechanic aboard my Astero). A few hours later I received a convo when Fox Todorov warped through a system I had parked in, this is the unedited content of that conversation:

Fox Todorov > hey sorry for beeing rude today when you killed me
Fox Todorov > accept my apoligies
Saftsuze > no worries, it provided me some good content for my blog :D
Fox Todorov > hehehe
Fox Todorov > well happy that i helped you in some way then
Fox Todorov > again sorry for beeing rude i just let emotions get the better of me
Fox Todorov > since that was my last ship left :P
Saftsuze > Totally fine. Thats eve. It is about emotions. The sense of loss.
Fox Todorov > well i hope i find a way to get into a new ship since i'm dont to a 100 isk
Fox Todorov > guess i need to buy a vantrue or smth
Fox Todorov > it was stupid of me to forget to insure that proc

HA! I knew it!

Fox Todorov > did you actually get any money out of killing me ?
Fox Todorov > i'm just curius
Saftsuze > a mill or something
Fox Todorov > hah i'm pathetic :D
Saftsuze > nah, youll get the hang of it
Fox Todorov > sry for loosing your time sir
Fox Todorov > and thanks for beeing a good sprot and killing me it helps me in more ways than it looses me isk
Saftsuze > no waste of time for me, this is my job!
Fox Todorov > i guess you are pritty good at it
Fox Todorov > ^ ^
Saftsuze > Well, Ive been doing it my own way for about four years, so im getting the hang of it, yes :)
Fox Todorov > ah i was just stupid enough to let my guard down
Saftsuze > number one: never fly something you cant replace instantly
Fox Todorov > yeah i know that but i didnt had much choise
Fox Todorov > since i was still learning and all that
Fox Todorov > i dicided a few ice could help me get on my feet again
Fox Todorov > but you came and liberated me off of that dream i guess ^ ^
Saftsuze > well, you just gotta get back up on your feet and follow the number one rule
Saftsuze > get help from your corp
Saftsuze > do stuff together with them
Saftsuze > help each other out
Fox Todorov > will do
Todorov > thanks for sharing wisdom with me
Saftsuze > make sure you know about the risks vs. rewards on your activity - take risks, but with insurance of a backuo
Saftsuze > *bakcup
Fox Todorov > yup i just forgot to insure that ship
Fox Todorov > very stupid move by me
Saftsuze > insurance is good, but a backup ship or five is more important
Fox Todorov > will remember that
Fox Todorov > and pls dont write too bad stuff about me in your blog :P
Saftsuze > Nope. It will be funny. And I'll be nice as well :)
Fox Todorov > funny is great
Fox Todorov > i love self irony so i'll just have a cool story for my corp bros
Saftsuze > dont worry, you'll get the chance to be self ironic, theres some material in the chat logs :)

Home System Hellcamped

Just a quick note OOC:

Yup, it is that time of year when family comes first first and this year they all invade my home system as well. That means I am camped in planetside from now and until the beginning of January. Very little flying in space from now and until then. See you later!

Feel free to browse my old posts: They are all personal tales of adventure and very few has an expiry date stamped on them.

o7 Saftsuze

WE WANT WHITE WEARABLES!

So, I bought some white pants. Gold and white actually, from some odd Amarrian mysticist that had been cloaked in enemy space for five years practicing the ancient art known to the connoisseurs as “AFK Cloaking”. But, I digress, this odd space Buddha sold me his fancy pants and I also found a white tank top from some hipster shop in Jita 4-4. Yeah, not the 4-4 all mainstreamers go to, no, the other 4-4. Anyway, not really important where I got these clothes from, the important thing is that finally I had an all white outfit! I tried them on, and damn if I wasn’t the most handsome MF this side of Jove-space! Time to find some white sandals to go with this outfit. No luck. No sandals. And no white shoes at all? No. Nothing. Well, I’ll go for the yoga style barefoot look, then. No problem.

Mr. Fancypants and his sexy bare arms.
And look at those toes! Rrrrr!

Not sure about those non-functional hipster glasses,
but the top is just perfect I think.

But, when I was leaving the changing room, an alarm sounded and a message was sort of chanted to me in a cold Caldari accent: “Stop! In the name of the Caldari Fashion Police! Stop! You can’t leave the room, without some proper boots! Stop! Go buy some shoes, you don’t wanna look like a poor Minmatar bag lady!” I tried to stop it. I tried remotely accessing the hacking module in my ship's cargo hold to see if I could find a way to bypass the Caldari Fashion Control System. But there was no way. The door would not open unless I put on some shoes. But I refused to add black boots to this relaxed and casual zen-sex outfit. It was just plain wrong.

So I put on the good old outfit again and was finally allowed out of the changing room. 

Seriously, the Council of Stellar Management must take this to their overlords and demand some serious fashion freedom! I am a goddamn Gallente with a free spirit! I must be allowed my bare feet if I so choose to? I am butt naked in the pod anyway! And if bare feet is not allowed, at least give us some white sandals! Some more white stuff! CSM, WE WANT WHITE WEARABLES!

I am going to send this report to Sugar Kyle, a very much respected CSM representative so she can see for herself how my free spirit is being limited by the fascist fashion police forces of New Eden. Something has to be done!

The White Virgin

The mechanic looked rather uncertain. Looking for something on the hangar floor. Just anything to keep his eyes from meeting mine.

“A bit uncomfortable being alone with handsome men, are we?”

He coughed and stuttered:

“No, no, boss, I am just surprised to hear your plans for this vessel. We are just more used to work with less ... ehm—”

“Criminal captains?”

“—uh, well, thats your words, captain."

“Dont worry, ... Sins, was it?”

“Yes, captain. Cins with a C for short. Blique Cins is full name, sir.”

“Bleak Sins, well, we will have to work on that, I guess.”

I paused. I had fired the rest of the crew when I bought this Astero. They were all highly skilled scientists specialized in hacking and archaeology. But I just needed a guy to make sure my mods did not burn out, and to help with refitting and loot scooping. My exploration goals were not cracking up old containers—I wanted to crack open some fresh hulls!

“Well, Sins, we are gonna continue to use this vessel for exploration. Just be ready to explore her capabilities under fire as well. That is why we will bring more than just hacking modules. In those containers over there we have extra drones, excellent Minmatar and Gallente quality light drones. We have tracking disruptors and extra scramblers and drone interfacing modules and a variety of armor hardeners and resist boosters. And that thing over there, that is our Beauty Parlor!

The mechanic blushed. He was not the metrosexual type.

“You know, when our lady in white needs to brush up a bit!”

Of course he knew what the packaged installation was. It was a mobile depot for refitting and short term storage. He tried to get the conversation back to technicalities.

“Have you remembered to order scripts for the disruptor? And sufficient probes?”

“Everything should be there, but it is your job to do the check lists. And do not forget those crates over there, there is some quality non-augmented old fashioned dry Prosecco from Luminaire in there."

I was already looking forward to the out of pod moments in deep space when I could take a shower, and sink into the white leather couch and red velvet pillows with a glass of bubbly white. The gravity system on the Astero really gave you that sink-into-the-couch-feeling. Sins snapped me out of my daydreaming.

“Excellent, I'll get right to it, boss!”

He ran away. Relieved to get started on his work. I turned around and looked at the newly acquired Astero exploration vessel. Anastasia. That was her name. She was a beauty in white. She looked so innocent.


A few days later. In Amoen. Anastasia is cloaked in an asteroid belt:

“Look at that, Sins! Time to explore the hull strength of Anastasia!”

“But... it is a Vexor class cruiser, sir! Do you know how many drones can be stuck inside that drone bay?”

His voice was cracking.

“Oh yes, Sins, but look at the drones he is using. A mixed bag of crap. And look at this report from BattleClinic: This capsuleer has a history of bad choices. That is what matters, Sins, that is what matters! Let's warp to a safe and whip out that Beauty Parlor!”

The time to anchor the damn thing took forever.

“Get the tracking disruptor ready for installation. Remove one of the webs. I want to avoid damage from the blasters so we can fully concentrate on the drones.

“Eh.. Sir, we don't have a disruptor... only the scripts—”

“What! I told you to pack—”

“But it was not on the list—”

“Well, you should have put it on the list, then! Oh, whatever, dump all our cargo in the depot and let's do this the dual web style.

“But can we do that? Will we sur—”

“Shut up and do your job!”

One warp later.

“We are already loosing a lot of armor, captain!”

I was laughing. Almost crying. My hands were shaking. The blood boiling.

“I told you we were going to explore the hull, didn't i? Just make sure everything is working and i'll make sure it is we that warp out and not that fucking Vexor!”

I know I sounded less than sane.

“Easy for you to say, you have a hydrostatic capsule wrapped around you.”

Armor warnings were screaming and I was concentrating hard on targeting the drones.

“What was that, Sins?”

“Nothing, sir. Nothing.”

It was quiet. And beautiful. Just the distant sound of drones hitting the mobile tractor unit. The sunlight gleaming around the silhouettes of the asteroids. Anastasia in her coat of white nano membrane.

“I thought… I was sure we—uh, I—was gonna die.”

Cins was sitting on a crate in the cargo hold. He was sweaty. Still shaking.

“That is a great feeling, isn’t it!”

He threw up on the container wall next to him.

“I love exploration! Now, clean up that mess and get ready to organize the loot from the Vexor. That damned tractor unit scooped it all. And, yeah, leave the corpse in space, I am not collecting anymore.”

He threw up again.

Anastasia's innocence was lost.

Hey, look, she even matches my jacket!

The New Star of New Eden

There is a new bright star in New Eden. I found this story in a big black skill book from the Gideon Corporation that was laying in my Captain's Quarter:

The Third Account

In those days Caesar Mittani issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire New Eden Cluster. This was the first census that took place while a Goon was governor of Deklein. And everyone went to their own starting system to register.

So Joseph Capbuilder also jumped up from the system of Nazhgete in Derelik to Tash-Murkon Prime, because he belonged to the house and line of Tash-Murkon. He went there to register with Mary Hauler, who was pledged to be his alt and was expecting a noob. While they were there, the time came for the noob to leave the clone vat, and she gave 10 million ISK to the third alt, a son. She installed some learning implants in him and placed him in a separate Captain’s Quarter, because there was no room available for more than one capsuleer in each Captain’s Quarter.

And there were some miners living out in the asteroid fields nearby, keeping watch over their precious rocks all night. An Angel of the Cartel appeared to them, and the glory of the Cartel shone around them, and they were terrified. But the Angel Cartel Commander said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the capsuleers. Today in the star system of Tash-Murkon Prime a Noob has been born to you; he is The Third Account, a saviour of CCP. This will be a sign to you: You will find a noob boarded in his noobship and ship spinning in a hangar.”

Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the Angel Cartel Commander, praising CCP and saying,

“Glory to CCP in the highest north, and in New Eden peace to those on whom their favor rests.”

When the Angels had left them and warped into space, the miners said to one another, “Let’s go to Tash-Murkon Prime and see this thing that has happened, which CCP has told us about.”

So they hurried off and found Mary Hauler and Joseph Capbuilder, and The Third Acount, a noob, who was ship spining in the hangar. When they had seen him, they spammed all open chat channels concerning what had been told them about this child, and all who read it LOLed and WTFed at what the miners said to them. But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in one of her jumpclones. The miners returned, glorifying and praising CCP for all the things they had heard and seen, which were just as they had been told.

The Men Who Stare at Boats

The Upper Lip Finesse new elite group of New Age Warriors has been formed. They, well, I, spend an enormous amount of time just meditating in deep wormhole space. I am trying to focus all the energy in the universe to create that perfect moment in space and time where a stealth bomber gets to uncloak and launch it’s torpedoes at a viable target. In order to do this, a lot of time has to be spent levitating above enemy starbases staring at other space ships. Sometimes I feel they can feel me being there.

My mental powers trying to slip through the POS shields.

And this transcendental strategy is paying off. The first wreckages from mental and torpedo power have already (well, “already” is of course a relative term in transcendental practice) been achieved. Although I have yet to make the enemy explode from my thoughts alone, I am certain I will reach that point one day. Because, as I said, I feel that they can feel me staring at them. And when you feel something strong enough it will start to hurt.

Today Upper Lip Finesse awarded me the Bad Boy Space Buddha medal for excellence in the New Age Warrior service: “Awarded for extensive period of cloaked meditation in deep transcendental wormhole space resulting in glorious and explosive enlightenment of other ship.”

OK, I admit it, I took some time off from the meditation to create a medal. 

Hm. Maybe I’ll make another one as well? Then get back to meditation? 

Yeah, just one more.

Space Buddha out.

Sneaking Pirate, Hidden Moustache

All that we are is the result of what we have thought.
The mind is everything.
What we think we become.

a terran thinker called Buddha

It is something I have tried to do a lot of times. But my patience was never there. The adrenaline junkie always craving action. Always warping to the next possible kill. Always roaming. Constant movement.

Now I am still. I am quiet. I am contemplating and observing. I am learning. I am chasing while sitting still, I am moving without effort.

Among Sleepers I shall be the awaken one.