Announcement to action

Esna walked through the halls of his Archon, studying the datapad in his arms. A list of things to do was in order - really, a list of things that were out of the way, things that were being dealt with, and things that needed to be done.

Discuss working with Ithrira with Angelina. Status: Done. Angelina'd agreed, albeit more happily once I'd had informed her Bethany would be working with her. It helped more that Ithiria was being reasonable as well - no chance of her doing something that accidentally might turn Angelina angry again. I've seen plenty enough of her anger the last time.

Find out what Zophia will be doing. Status: Needs to be done. Delayed 'cause the girl sleeps so much I'm considering having her tested for residual drugs in her system. When she is up, though, she's rather condusive to listening to me. Good girl, that one. I'd love to have her on board, and not just so I could have use of her skills...

Talk to Ithiria. About a lot of things. Status: Doing. Doable. Not quite done. Probably easy, just need to grab hold of her for a few hours. She's also pretty condusive to being reasonable... though it does help we agree on so many things. Still, I have to find her and figure out what she's doing about... well, hell. Everything.

Give Red Alliance a kick in the face for that stunt last night. Status: Needs to be done. Probably going to put this one off to the last, as it'd be harder than getting Evanda Char to sell herself into my service. Speaking of which...

Get Insorum. Status: Needs to be done.Well, here's a running competitor with fighting Red Alliance for 'hardest task.' Hell, if the Republic isn't even willing to give EM some, how the hell am I supposed to get some. I do need, it though. Badly.

Engage terrorists operating within Imperial borders. Status: Ongoing. Difficulty: Ranges from harder than disarming a torpedo lodged in my hull to easier than chucking said torpedo back at the enemy once it's been yanked out. Fortunately, the majority tend to be the easier than-

"Sir! Sir!" A crewmember came running down the hall, a datapad clutched beneath his arm. "Sir, message for you! Urgent, came in on a secure channel!"

Esna accepts the datapad and reads over the few lines scrawled across the screen. He pales, and reads them again, rapidly darkening past his normal skin tone to a highly unhealthy red. Dropping the datapad uncaringly, he takes off toward the bridge as fast as he can, screaming into the microphone in his collar, his enraged voice echoing through the entire ship's PA system. "Mitatfa, Urbales, Nimaedes. Meet me in the bridge briefing room in five. Sadasto, begin refueling NOW. Tes'rata, do a combat readiness check on all drones and fighters. Everyone else, get to actions stations!"

Somewhere on the bridge, the officer of the watch heard the call. He knew what it meant. Hell, he'd heard it last night, minutes before they'd jumped into the middle of a collosal firefight. He grabbed his collar and roared into it, even as his hands went to the alarm controls in front of him. "ALL HANDS TO ACTION STATIONS!"

Acting on intelligence

If undescript could have a mascot, the Prorator would be it. Barely different from its hull base, the pervasive Sigil-class cargo hauler, the Prorator could be - and was - often mistaken for is simpler cousin. But to Esna Pitoojee, as his Prorator slid into the dock, it was the greatest thing since the Bestower hull. Specifically, it allowed him to pull his first trick off.



Esna stepped you of the changing areas, drying his hair of the last of the water from the capsuleer showers. As he stepped out onto the floor of the hangar, he was met by an older True Amarr bearing a huge smile.

"Lord Pitoojee, I did not expect to see you again so soon! Although it is certainly to see you back again, God bless you."

Esna grinned back. "Amatos. Good to see you again as well, friend."

Benashut Amatos, the foreman for that docking bay, nodded as he pumped Esna's hand enthusiastically. "Though, you current choice of transport is a little underwhelming? Not as great as the Archon you had built here, Sir."

Esna grimaces, as if remembering something, then grins. "The Archon is... elsewhere. Still instact, mind you, and still bearing the graffiti someone sprayed on the third engine housing. But I'm not here to relax, and this ship has its uses to. For instance..." Esna waves back up to the Prorator, where, the hull subsections of a Pilgrim-class force recon were rapidly emerging from the cargo bay. "And she's got room to spare."

Amatos blinked once, pulled out a pair of thick-rimmed glasses, and blinked again. "Impressive, but why?"

"I need a combat-capable ship. And I need a transport. They both fit."

Amatos look back down. "So they do. But why here?"

Esna started to walk, Amatos following close behind him. A slave fell in behind them both, handing a datapad bearing the profile of a Sebiestor woman to Amatos. "Have you heard of this person, Amatos?"
Amatos pulled his glasses off again to look at the datapad. "Angelina Ballentyne? No, why?"

Esna grimaced. "Nevermind. Amatos, I need a huge favor from you. A Carthum Net uplink, inside your system. Not Galnet."
Amatos glances at Esna, his face neutral. "I could get fired for that. You aren't even affiliated with that Loyalist bunch anymore."
"So just tell me how to get to find and get into one. Where I won't be disturbed. Nobody can link it to you."

Amatos finally relented with a sigh. "Alright. For you, friend."
A wide smile split Esna's face. "Thank you. You have no idea how much this helps me."
Amatos grunted, writing out some notes on the datapad, then handing it over to Esna. "There. And if I get fired, you're paying my pension."
"If you you get fired, I will hire you to keep my hangars in shape."







"How the hell-"

Esna's hologram raised a finger to its lips. "Shh. Discuss later, buisness first."
"This is a secure-"

"And I have friends. You know this."

"I have a reputation-"

"You also have my assurance this line is secure."

Mesghoh Huchmib sighed. "Fine. What? And how did you get on the this net?"
Esna grinned widely. "I need a favor. A certain file within your legal net. About an upcoming event."
"That is a severe breach of security! If it ever got out that I'd done this, I could be made a rank two, even rank one agent!"
"You know I won't do that. I worked for you long enough to prove that."

"..."
Esna glanced away from the holocam and tapped a few buttons. Moments later, Mesghoh's mail service was flashing. "That's the profile on a person I believe to be held in a specific Carthum station. I need to know for sure. And then where."
Mesghoh examined the file, and for a brief second surprise flickered over his face. "A criminal?"
"Yes. I have an interest in her."
"Let me see... yes, she's to be sentenced in two days. To death, barring personal intervention of the Magistrate-"
"I need an invitation to the sentencing."
There was a long silence, during which Esna watched Mesghoh's chin tremble with increasing furiosity. Finally, the man broke it. "That is really- really- that is far to much!"
"Oh, do stop worrying. There's actually nothing wrong with suggesting my name be added to the roster. It's probably the most legal bit of this little endeavor."
Mesghoh considered this. Esna turned the screws a little more. "And besdies... I happen to know someone looking for a rank three agent in the area."
Mesghoh looked interested. "How long would this person be around?"
"Long enough to make it worth it for you. Another feather in your cap, for a relatively small favor."
"Fine. Empress damn you, Pitoojee, but you've got your invitation."
Esna smiled and faded out, the grin and salute he gave Mesghoh the last thing visible before he dissapeared.

Acting on instinct

Bloody hell. She had to do it. At a time like this.

I suppose I could be called a coward. I have a tremendous urge not to do some things that might need to be done. Not to speak words that have to be said. To stand back and be analytical to a fault. And sometimes, I realise that this prevents me from getting things done.

But sometimes, someone does something so spectacularly foolish that I look up and thank God that he has given me the patience to think before dashing off. I'm thankful I don't go charging into the dens of those who hate me, hoping to earn some sort of... redemption when there's no chance of any such thing.

In short, I'm thankful I didn't do what Carmilla's foolish sister did, running right into the center of the storm she started without any method of getting out, without any chance of them seeing reason, and without any hope of escaping.

I mean, I can't fault those poor people for not seeing reason. She did slaughter a monestary. But to give herself up without any chance of escape? Does she have any idea of how much this is going to hurt Carmilla?

I'd better be getting over there. Find what I can.

Paradoxes of the faithful

Why is it that our people, those chosen to serve God, the only in the cluster to base our entire government on His edicts, are so prone to such flagrant and terrible abuses of his word?

I've been contacted by Ciarente, of all people.

Someone using Amarr-built power armors has kidnapped one of her crew along with a number of ex-slaves they were transporting. Within the Empire's borders, too. In the middle of high-sec, for that matter. How much more blatantly defy the laws of the Empire?

M'ser, you and I disagree on some things. But you've never been dishonest with me.

I suppose I should be thankful that she trusts me... but lately, between Tavrook, Mehatek, and whoever is responsible for this... It seems lately no one cares about slaves besides getting more of them and using them for personal gain.

No one cares about them being slaves, not mindless automatons. Slaves, but still human slaves.

And if my worst fears are true, no one cares what happens to them or where they go. Given the information Ciarente has provided me, I've assembled enought to trace the transport her crewmember was last seen on to Avair. Avair... Liela constellation. Asoutar, Avair, Clarelam, Ebo, Porsharrah, Rayl and Tastella. Every low-sec system in there has its moons full, and for a damn good reason.

I need to move fast. If she was taken to Avair, she could be gone quite quickly. And for he same reason we used to - I used to - deploy out of Liela, tracing exactly where she'd gone would be difficult in the extreme. Tracking down and cornering her would be... hell, near impossible if they're as smart as I am. Which, given who we're likely to be dealing with here, is quite likely.

And if it's Providence, or CVA... I don't care to have dealings with them again. Not until they pull their act together and deal with the abuses and rot in their core. Hell, at the moment Providence would be easier to slip into. I might even... *Esna chuckles softly.* I might even end up working with the 'Khan. Or at least Eliza. She's probably the only one willing to listen to me.

Anyhow, I need to move out now.

A Difference of Opinion

Why is it that the change of a single word can make such an incredible difference?



"Jump" becomes "Hold!" and it is to late, your ship is rematerializing amidst the enemy fleet.



"Murder" is what they call it if you attack a man without provocation. "A kill" is what they call it when you destroy a ship with hundreds aboard.



And a "slave" is somehow different than a "free man", despite both wishing to remain in service, recieving the same treatment, quality of life, and being killed with the same impunity when enemy fire tears your ship apart.

I just don't understand some people.


Let me explain fully. During our month-long operations in the Great Wildlands, we raided numerous Angel Cartel prison complexes. The poor men and women unfortunate enough to be caught in the clutches of the Cartel are taken here to be "processed" that is, stripped of any money or valuables, tortured for any valuable information, and then ransomed. Or enslaved if a ransom is unlikely or not proceeding smoothly.
And so it is when we, in our rampaging machines of death, come crashing into these complexes that these people are able to make it to industrial-grade cargo containers capable of withstanding the damage we create, and are from there taken into my cargo bay.

Really, looking at these people after we returned from the raid, I can see why so many hate the idea of slavery. They are ragged, many broken internally from the shock of it all or the beatings used to force them into compliance. Others still have open wounds from abuse - or yet worse, use - by the guards. Almost universally, however, they wish to go home. Back to the Wildlands. Seeing as how they wished to leave, and I could not remotely blame any form of crime comitted within the Empire's territory on any of them, I had no right - morally or legally - to keep them.

This proved to be tricky in the extreme. Because of my heritage, all I need to do is approach anyone in the Thukker Tribe stations, speak the word "slave" and promptly be met by a wall of stony silence. So I was forced to go to the only person I knew with Thukker affiliations who would listen to me.

Zuzanna Alondra. Again. And initially, it went surprisingly well with her. She didn't cut the line the instant I said I still had (willing) slaves, and I humbly sat through the generic lecture on how slavery is bad. And frankly, I think we would have both come out better for it, except that she just had to pass it by her CEO.

Who promptly refused to have anything to do with a slaveholding Amarrian. Even if it involved slaves being freed.

Because somehow, even if they wish to remain as such, to have a slave is wrong.

As I said, I just do not understand some people. If one brother wants nothing to do with an older sibling and fights to be free of him, is it right for the older sibling to refuse the friendlyness of another younger brother? For the older sibling to say "I am sorry, we cannot be siblings anymore. I can help and tutor you, but I am no longer the older sibling you looked up to and who protected you." ? If someone did that, the older sibling would be called a jerk.

Zuzanna is not an inherently bad person. She obviously wants the very best for people. But really, the words "naieve" and "narrowminded" do come to mind.

Reformation

...otherwise known as "We got BoB'ed."

Or at least that is how some of the other members of the alliance have termed it. Either way, the facts remain the same - on the sixteenth of February, a disgruntled ex-CEO of one of the corporations in our alliance somehow managed to gain control of the NeoCom account of a director within the executor corporation, and, in the next few hours, stole billions of ISK in assets and the proceeded to remove nearly all the corps from the alliance. He would have succeeded in completely disbanding the alliance and around twenty billion more in assets if not for the quick thinking of the CEO of the executor corporation.

His reason for perpetrating this? One of the other corporations in the alliance had accepted pilots previously in Goonswarm. He then proceeds to use a tactic Goonswarm is credited with pioneering to take his 'revenge'.

Oh, the irony.



Regardless, we persevere. Sovereignty was maintained, and the station in the constellation is now back in our hands.

Which means I still have a host through which I can - with or without their knowledge - continue to further the Empire's interests. With the situation in Providence rapidly deteriorating, I am being forced to move some of my more delicate assets out of the area.

My packup softclones, for instance.


It seems everyone is going through changes and reformations lately.
Aldrith Shutaq has started an organization, "Knighthood of the Merciful Crown," which seeks to redeem capsuleers looking for redemption but who would be rejected by some of the 'harder' loyalist organizations, such as PIE. He's been joined by a Feinlyn, a Gallente who was apparently pulled out a life of alcohol and listlessness (he credits the Knighthood for giving him new direction in life - good for both of them) and Shalee Lianne, who I had the pleasure of talking to in an out-of-the way place on Amarr. Nice girl... and a lot different than I had believed her to be. Much more open and free-willed. By the same token, she also had me pegged as a hard-core conservative, so perhaps it's better we got to know each other better. The less misunderstandings in this universe, the better.
Then there is the whole situation in Providence. Regardless of how it ends, the region will not be the same.
And lastly...

No. She asked me not to discuss that openly. Even here there is to much risk.

Maybe when all this change is done with, I will be able to speak openly. It pains me that I have to remain silent on some things, even if it is for the sake of a close friend retaining her peace of mind.

Moving up, falling away.

Twenty-four jumps.

Twelve trips.

Six rounds trips.

Eleven million cubic meters of ships hauled.

Sixty thousand cubic meters of other assorted cargo hauled.

Nine hours in transit.

Approximately 255 light years traversed.

180,000 standard units of isotopes consumed.

Approximate cost of fuel - seventy two million.

Thank God it is nearly over. In my years of piloting, I do not think I have ever moved so much equipment so far in such a short time. But I guess that it why they call them carriers.

Besides, the engineering crew is reporting that the jump drives will need recalibration and possibly some replacement soon.

So why did I do it? Why did I leave the corp that I had - as I mentioned in my goodbye mail - worked for and been supported by for two days short of a year?

The answer is simple. Change. Or in this case, the decided lack of it.

Without change, we simply could not grow. We were doomed to fall behind, and from there into failure, never really providing the support and capabilities that are needed to survive in this world.

So I advanced.

Am I happy this occured? No. Not at all

This is not what I wanted. It is not what I wanted to happen at all. There are men and women in that corp I would gladly have worked with for years to come. But so it has occured, and so here I am.

Moving up towards success, but falling away from the ones who brought me here.

Free in mind and body

She sold herself to me.

Well, not sold. She didn't even get any monetary compensation for it. She signed herself over to be my slave.

Poor girl. She was openly sobbing about it right there as they took the fingerprint and DNA swab. To be a slave again, after what horrors she suffered before gaining her freedom... that she was willing to do this speaks of more courage to face her past then I had attributed to her, and that she was willing to rely on me to do this speaks of a deeper trust than I had realised she had for me. Hell, she even offered to wear chains if it was needed - I told her no, under any circunstances; she doesn't need the extra put-down of being chained as well as being a slave - but the awesome trust she has in me to even offer to do that...

But Seraphim is determined to take that Sani Sabik bastard down a notch. The tournament is likely to be the only time she is likely to be out of her quarters to mingle with us "inferiors." And to get into the tournament, Seraphim needs to be a slave.

So she sold herself to me. She's been moping around for past two days, and frankly I'm starting to get worried. Sleeping on the floor because 'that's what slaves do' can't be doing her any good either.

She needs to stop this soon, or she'll be in no place to compete.

And on top of all of this, I've been elected diplomat for our new nullsec wing, which means I spend much of my time dealing with people spewing more doublespeak and generally making my life as difficult as possible than I care to. Frankly, Seraphim is easy to deal with after that; at least I understand where she is coming from.

Seeing the other side

I won't deny that I disagree with the perception that all those who might be part of organizations which claim to oppose the Empire or the Empire's policies are all psychotic monsters hellbent on murdering every believing man, woman and child. I aso don't think that all those poor people should be left to try and feel their way about on their own devices, without any guidance or place to ask questions they might have...








...but lately I am running into an aweful lot of them.





For starters, there's Marius. Crossed paths with him a while back at the Skyhook, and he finally got around to saying Thank You for my saving his sorry corpse. Poor man, I don't even think he considers himself Amarrian anymore... at least when he was just an angry Amarrian, I hoped I could convince him...


But if he is... apathetic about it... I mean, what can one do to make someone care? Get him angry? That would be kind of counterintuitive compared to my final objective.






Then there is Zuzanna Alondra... I keep running into her. Once was fate - the incident with Marius outside the bar - once kind of my fault - I found my way to a Fraction-owned bar where she was; the place turned out to be some sort of filthy "house of pleasures." Nearly a whorehouse, and the girl was drunk... But the last... Well, I can't say it was my fault, since it was deliberate, but I called her up. Wondered how she was doing, but then I asked her about my project. The one with the Insorum. It didn't go so well - she's thoroughly behind the damn fractionists in her views. But I managed to convince her in the end. Just to help.

Why do I feel that is going to come back and bite me in the rear?

Oh, and then there's Zophia... nice young Matari girl, apparently thought it was a good idea to dive into combat in an expensive ship in her first day of combat, in Amarr space no less. Now she's trapped in Amarr until she can get some new money to fix her boat, and is discovering first hand how damn thickheaded our people can be when it comes to Matari...

She does not yet hate us, but every humiliation she experiences - being overcharged for her repairs, being forced to wait last for a place on the transport, they charged looks everyone throws at her - each one brings her closer, makes her angrier... Perhaps I will be able to mitigate this? I do not know...

Finally, there is Seraphim. Poor woman... she's another Amaterasu. Scarred physically by a whip, and scarred emotionally by that and more. She cannot even sleep well without having nightmares of her time; if someone is with her, it helps some...

As I said to her, everyone seems intent on taking what the Empire represents and push it one step further than it should be? One step beyond the law? I wish I knew...

Entrapping the Beast (Re-publish)

[Author's note: Blogspot seems to be having some comp trouble lately. Due to this, two blog posts got posted out of order, one much later than it should have, and a couple other seem to have vanished. Because I'm to damn lazy to rewrite everything (and I want to move on to new stuffs) it's all been compacted down into this one post, which, if everything had been done right, would have been posted on about thr 5th.]

Day C-1

I am sure of it...



I know who killed me. I also know how, and know why.



Her name is Cruenta Orexis. She is a capsuleer nominally in the service of the 24th Imperial Crusade. She is also a member of the Blood Raider Covenant.

The evidence lines up well enough. She can't even keep her own story straight.

And, even as I write this message, I am preparing to take this to the next level. Cruenta is returning from a "vacation in the Federation" - although given her newly revealed allegiances, I am not sure how true that statement is... Anyhow, she will soon be back in Empire space. Once she is there I will offer to assist her on working on defensive complexes...

Here is the tricky part: I need to lead her into a station in the area. One of the forward logistical stations will probably do, but I need to get her to away from a public area. I can bring someone with me who is more skilled in that sort of thing; the point is that once she is alone a quick shot with a hypodermic round or a stun shock will take her out. After that, they only need to stuff her into a container and leave quickly. The cargo scan will only pick up a biomass, and there shouldn't be an issue with a group of slaves "transporting the remain of one of their fallen back to the holy territory of the Empire."

Then I can dig to the bottom of this.

Day C-0

The capture went off easily enough.


Cruenta is currently sleeping; something they put in her food. She's acquiesced to the torture for now... but I doubt it will be that easy. I will have to work on her again tomorrow.

In some ways, I am not sure I can do this. She does not appear to be evil; indeed, in some over her more... agreeable moments, she can be quite agreeable to talk to. But whenever she opens her mouth as a Blooder, the most disgusting filth comes spewing out. I pray that I will be able to break her without causing to much further pain... I do not enjoy tortuing her. I do not enjoy torture in general. But I must break her, and return her as something new.



Bah, I should just say it outright. I am a young man, and she is a young woman... If I had not seen her last strapped screaming to a table, I might be courting her. All at once, I know that I do not and could not ever desire something as twisted as a Blood Raider... yet, a part of my mind continues to tell me that I am not working hr as hard as I could be, because of this one fact. Maybe I will put on of my other interrogators on her. To continue working her until I can come to terms with my actions.



Day C+1

Well, I did it. I put on one of my most trusted associates, and it ended with her going berserk and nearly killing Cruenta, then releasing Cruenta's restraints of all things, only to be tortured by Cruenta herself to the point of falling into a coma. Damn woman couldn't keep her self control in place, and now I have a problem, because Cruenta feels she can still fight... it will slow the process. I already worked her again once earlier; I think I may go do it again...



Oh, Lord... I am enjoying it. The feeling of revenge, of being victorious over the one who caused me such trouble... It is wrong, I know, but.. I cannot say "it feels so good." That is the way to complete hedonism. I will not fall that way.



Day C+2

Work is progressing. I believe I've broken her; now I must rebuild her. This will be easier... it is less... despicable.

What else can be said? Alliance matters are keepping me busy - much planning; to much planning and not enough acting, really.



Day C+3

Things are definitely proceeding. She is coming to accept her new place, slowly... I believe tomorrow I might be able to take her out in public.




Day C+5

I haven't had the heart to post in the last day. Two things went the worst possible ways they could have.

First, a group of slaves... acted out of line yesterday. Closest thing I've had to open rebellion. Took Cruenta from the quarters where she was recovering and took it upon themselves to torture her... they felt she was lying about her abandoning the Blooders.

They were right.

Early today, I allowed Cruenta into a ship of her own to go to Amarr with me... and she flew off right back to her home lands. The Bleak Lands. I had never turned her.




The next time I see her, I will skip the "rebuild into something new" part. I'll just go with breaking her.

Pointing the hounds, Round II

[Author's note: This was written and should have been published around November 27th, but due to an unfortunate loss of internet, it was not then and I forgot to come back to re-publish it until I went to write my next post (coming toon, BTW). ]



So much has gone on since the last time.... Considering what the last record was about, I really do this more often.

We are reforming as an alliance. Not disbanding and rejoining, but completely altering our plans, both present and future.

I feel terrible that we had to abandon our future, bright as it was, especially since this is, in a wierd sort of way, my fault. "That which does not kill you, makes you stronger," they say. I pray we can become stronger through this ordeal. Aside from that, not deploying with the usual combat fleets in Providence is also driving me absolutely insane - you don't realise how much you love the feeling of soaring into combat between the burning lasers, humming railguns, and curiously beautiful explosions until you don't have it anymore.

It really is addictive.

In more galactic matters, the 24th has lost a system. In Amarr territory. I'm no fan of some of the jingoistic bigots in their ranks, but I have begun flying patrols in the area to assist them. Because I think I'd like the jingoistic bigots on the other side even less.

And, to be honest, because it gives myself and the other combat pilots something to shoot at.

But that is not the most important bit... even with all that happening, I haven't called off my quest to find whoever killed me. I have my suspicions, but now I am almost certain that I know who is responsible - an unfortunate little slip-up on the part of someone I was discussing this with, along with some solid witnesses of what I did in the time lost... All I need now is final confirmation. No need to further the perception of Amarrian justice as a "witch hunt" affair, and to be honest I don't want to hurt he- the person in question if I am wrong. I am reluctant to the name here only because this one may also be responsible for the previous... situations. And I don't need my prey to find out the hunter has noticed it.

Minding the past

At 03:00 last night, I woke up in a cloning vat.



A softclone. With absolutely no memory of what I had done that day.



I wonder if this is what it feels like to wake up in after a hard-scan in a substandard clone?





Fortunately, I only lost one day, but constructing what I'd done was still...



Judging from the locations of my ships, I spent some time moving ship around Providence - reconcentrating them at strongpoints.

My wallet indicates I spent some time hunting the Sansha battleships in Providence, and at some point bought some modules for one of my ships.


I also brought some more drones for In Justice Bound - either that, or eight flights of sentries mysteriously appeared in her dronebay.

What happened after that is unclear: I went to the Skyhook, and must have walked out right as Scynnis was walking in - she mailed me asking "who the woman I walked out with was," but I, of course, do not know who it was... I will have to see if she saved my reply. But if I left Skyhook, what happened between then and my quarters in Goram VIII - Moon IV Kaalakiota station, where traces of my blood were found on furniture...

Was it whoever doesn't want me to get the Insorum? Or something relating to my defence of Providence? Had I found something critical in the Skyhook that night, or am I missing the point completely...


I do hope Scynnis saved that reply. It may be the only lead I have.

All ahead full

So much has happened, so long since I last recorded here...

Eh, where to start?

How 'bout with the good: Amaterasu is back. Dunno who recovered her, but she's coherent enough to talk and hold a meaningful conversation. Suppose when you are talking about coming out of a Blooder camp, that's coming out two steps ahead.

It did destroy everything I'd worked toward, though. Everything...

Then there was the HED raid. Getting bored of constantly being on the defensive, we made an unusual large-scale raid into the triple-A chokepoint of HED-GP. We fully expected to have to deal with hostile Titans - there are no less than four Titan-class vessels in that system, dedicated purely to defending it - and sure enough, after the first few haulers went down an Avatar-class warped in at range and fired its 'Judgement' weapon.

Here's where things get fun: -A- had attempted to drag us off the gate using a battleship at range as bait, so we could not jump through. The volume of fire, however, forced the battleship pilot to warp off sooner than he had expected, and so when the Avatar warped in, all but the lightest ships were still on the gate. We simply jumped through, avoiding the doomsday device, and then quickly returned - in time to join the battle against the -A- subcapital fleet warping in on the gate. The hostile fleet, however, had evidently been put together with the idea that we would have lost several core ships and those remaining would have taken severe damage from the doomsday - not so. Our logistics were running, 'dictors dropping bubbles, and the battle quickly turned in our favor. Spoils weren't bad, but the real prize was the pride we could take in this victory.

Going on, In Justice Bound is finally fully operational. I know, the launch celebration was so many weeks ago, but it was missing many critical items - three full flights of fighters, capital-class remote repair systems, assorted back-up and secondary drones - that it could only be used for long-range support.

And then there is Star Fraction. Apparently the 24th and associated corps have finally gotten tired of SF fighting them, and have handed out a series of large-scale defeats to the Fraction, including an unusually high number of capital kills. The latest one was no different, although the total loss values were a little closer thanks to a suprising number of previously-neutral reinforcements showing up to engage the 24th. I won't claim I'm a fan of this silly little "war," but the sooner SF is ripped to shreds and their pilots scattered among the stars, the better.

Now, the bad...

The Ordo Magna is apparently seeing some internal troubles - one of its members fell the vices of heresy, and now they are on a massive internal witch-hunt. I would warn them about the dangers of such a hunt - God knows, I've seen what it can lead to - but I doubt my voice would be taken with much consideration. I, after all, am an outsider. It still seems sad, however, to see such good people torn apart by one man's vices.

Then I went to the Skyhook to try and relax, and got there in time to see Ms. Ciarente Roth go through a nervous breakdown as Vikarion arrived to return one of her previous bodies he had recovered - while inside that body. Poor woman didn't take it to well, seemed to think that because the body was still capable of supporting life (and thus not 'dead') it was actually her, and the body she currently inhabited was... I don't know, not her?

I did get to meet a nice woman named Cruenta in the 24th - I asked her about the big fight, but she had apparently literally just joined, and hadn't even been around for the battle.


Other than all that, what can I say? My wallet is full, my ships are ready, and the fights keep coming. There is nothing else I can do but keep on working...

No stone unturned

Around four hours after my last log, I recieved confirmation that they had indeed arrived in NOL-M9, although actual entry into Blood Raider territory had been delayed by a temporary lack of active light transports, due to a recent conflicts in the area.

So, they finally got there, and...
Oh, what in God's name did I expect? A giant "Hi searchers, Izanami THIS way!" sign? An easily detectable path of ships signed in her name? Hell, is Izanami even her real name?
Anyway, they've found basically nothing so far. Or rather, they've found so much that its impossible to tell where she is; the whole place is riddled with deadspace production complexes, dark temples, and blood farms. She could be anywhere.

Oh, and did I mention that two of the six are completely out of action? One of the former blooders decided to attack on of the others an attempt to get Vitoc so he could flee... He broke quite a few bones before he was restrained. So now I've got one man who had to be sent back to Goon territory to recover, and the other I have half a mind to order killed immediately.
However, I still need these men. Every day, every hour we do not find another hint of Amaterasu is another day that she does through unimaginable torture. I pray she will be totally alive, let alone sane, when we find her.

So I sent three more men to join those already in Blooder territory, and another three who'll meet with the injured man and then begin a search of Goon space when he recovers - there's always a chance she's hiding in the outskirts rather than the fortress...

Finally, myself. HIMS Predator is fitted and ready, having already proved herself in combat twice. I haven't heard from Hitome or Aldrith, so I'm not sure if and when they will be moving.

One other thing has been troubling me - ever since I was diverted off my quest for Vitoc by this little escapade, the attacks on my property have ceased. Are they unaware that it is still an objective of mine? Or have I inadvertantly rooted out the agent and sent him or her to Delve?

Pointing the hounds

Delve is... well, easier than I had thought.

Of course, I have absolutely no fucking right to say that myself, seeing as how I am actually deploying tomorrow.

Accessing system file:
Memo: Experience in Delve
To: All slave section leaders
Please ask all those in your sections if they have any experience with the Delve region.
Experience with combat operations preferred. Forward results to my NeoCom.
Esna

Well, aren't I lucky. No less than six slaves respond - two turret gunners formerly employed by Band of Brothers, a clone technician who quit after Goonswarm forcibly relocated him to Delve, and... and three Sani Sabik who ventured into Imperial space and were caught by the MIO. I'm extremely hesitent about sending these poor men and women in, especially with the last lot - one of them shows signs of being turned back to God, but the other two... they're just smart enough not to make their views widely know, at least among the more religious staff. Giving all their vitoc doses the other three seemed to be the safest bet - they try anything, they die a painful death. Point of Vitoc, I guess.

But I have no option. I need information, lest I go blindly charging into a fool's mission. So off they went. They should be arriving in the legendary NOL-M9 in about three hours, after which they will break off and purchase a shuttle ride into Sani Sabik territory.

Where they will begin reporting back to me.






When I do go, I will have at least two compatriots - Hitome Kei, and surprisingly, Aldrith Shutaq.

Aldrith... I pity him. The befate that befell him is something no one deserves - to be tricked into betraying his friends by the Betrayer incarnate. She will burn for the pain she has caused.

Failure

Well, she had me fucking fooled.


Let me run back a bit: I've been putting off thinking about this, because frankly, I don't want to think about it. About the collosal failure of myself, my friends, everyone..









Amaterasu has been captured.
It's funny. Only a few weeks ago she moved in to Ghost Festival, an angel finally spreading its wings.
Took some investigation, and a lot of guesswork, to figure out what was going on. Eventually, I overhear Verone, Reimei, Morwen, and some guy from Ghost Festival discussing it. Thank God for less-than-obvious robes - I was able to get within hearing range and, surprise, guess who decided to take Ama?
Izanami Mikoto I. Guess I should have warned her off trying to reclaim Ama a bit more forcefully, huh?
Anyway, its not looking good. Izanami has been hiding out somewhere, apparently torturing Ama. (So much for the kind, if strict, old lady persona.) I've been catching a few references to Delve, which means that they think she's thigh deep in Blooder stuff.

Fucking great. I'll need a covops frigate or force-recon cruiser if I'm headed out that way - no damn way I'm going to just slip in if they can see me.

Or a carrier. Maybe we can slip into one of the bits that isn't cynojammed, cloak up, and get a base of operations running there.
I'd like to drop a fucking carrier on Izanami's head. And the rest of her damned corpse.

And make no mistake, I am going to come down on Izanami's head, even if I have to track down, probe out, and tackle her myself. She may hide behind her false persona, and her... allies may break their oaths, but I am not going to. I am not going to abandon Amaterasu.

Shifting

I have just passed the golden oportunity.

Bit of story here - seems Reppy, that wayward little Khanid, has a mother. A mother, as it is, who is apparently highly religious. So, long story short, she had come to The Last Gate, looking for Reppy. And guess who else decided to walk in - that damned traitor, Marius. "Lord" Maximullis. Well, after the local color drove her out, Marius apparently decided to follow her out and pick a fight with her.

In a typical display of his nature, Marius tried to pull a gun on her, despite the presence of several well-trained bodyguards. They were a tad faster, and when I got out there in response to the shooting, Marius was lying in a pool of blood. Even so, I nearly had to shoot the bastard again to keep him from trying to kill her guards.

About the time Reppy's mother - Rara? Cara? I've forgotten her name in all of this - left, one of Marius' little compatriots showed up. Zuzanna, a little Intaki girl...

And then I passed the opportunity. When I should have fired my sidearm until it was dry, watched the flesh boil off of Marius' skull and his neurons burn into nothingness, when I should have killed him...

When Zuzanna asked... I helped him. Lugged his damned body into the Gate, out of the Gate, into Seriphyn Inhonores' ship, where they managed to get a hardscan on him.

And I don't know fucking why. That, along with the possibility of making a "deal" with Ghost Festival..
Am I slowly falling away from God's path? Am I becoming like the others that have left the Empire's cause? Is this something that dooms all Amarrian podders?

I will not be falling willingly, that is sure. I will consider all my actions, and make sure that they are all good for the Empire's - and the Amarr peoples' - cause... make sure that there is no other way. And I must retain self-control... not allow myself to be swayed by begging girls when there is such an opportunity available.



I do pity Zuzanna, though. I've tallked with her, and she isn't evil or Amarr-hating. That she has fallen in with Marius is unfortunate - he is clearly affecting her.





SYS_EDIT//DOC_EXTENTION;

Still no contact from Ciarente. I am now certain that my request has failed. I suppose I will have to find a PRETA contact within the next couple of days.

Forcing the hand

Well, they finally got to me.



Was on a regular patrol in Providence, and had been running fine all day. After a brief break to reload and refuel, I returned to patrol.



I didn't notice that all external communications had ceased to function. That I wasn't recieving any incoming comms. Including the intelligence channels.



So I didn't know about the large Triumvirate fleet waiting dead ahead.



A new ship, gone. A new clone, inhabited.


I checked later on. Subsace comm relays had ceased to function several minutes beforehand. However, self diagnostics reported that they were functioning. Which means someone was fooling with it.





Whoever this is intends to force my hand. To push me to the point where getting this Insorum would be to great a cost.

I'm not going to let them. Oh, yes, they've forced my hand, but not in the way they expect. Electus Matari has not responded, and I am not going to give this up. I am going to be forced to find another source.

Aside from the Matari, there are only handful of others I know of who might have Insorum. The Jove aren't going to respond to me. The Elders, really the Republic... they would never trust me. Or would demand far to much to gain that trust.

That leaves criminals. Not a group I favor dealing with, except to enforce the law. But then, we are capsuleers, a law unto ourselves.
The Cartel would be my next option. They are the only others who might have a sample of Insorum... and be willing to deal with me.
A few more days, and then I'll have to make a choice I really don't think I'm ready to make.

Obstructions

Someone doesn't look favorably on my actions.

Got a report today that there was an attempt to ruin a good portion of my stored assets - during a routine inventory check it was discovered that a large cache of battleship-class antimatter hybrid rounds I had stored on site had mysteriously been set to active-load settings. That is, not only had the shells been primed for insertion into the turrets' loading mechanisms, but the they had also been set specifically to respond as if they had been loaded into a blaster - that is, the next time a signal reached the shell rack's system - say, from an automated inventory scanner - the shells would have responded by disgorging their load of antimatter into whatever, so that it could be processed and fired by the blaster.
Except in this case, the antimatter would have met atmosphere, and the anhiallation would probably have eventually breached all, oh, ten thousand shells I had stored.

That's a lot of antimatter. Not enough to blow the station apart, but enough to melt or badly irradiate a good portion of what I've got stored at that station. Thank God for automated pre-inventory diagnostics.

Anyhow, to do this requires a fair bit of tinkering, which means experience with shell rack systems. This also means that someone had to override the door locks to gain access to the secured hangar where all of my ammunition is stored. And finally, it also means someone who knew enough to tinker with the station's own systems, because otherwise there would have been an immediate lockdown of the area while someone went in and disabled the shells.


Which means I'm either dealing with one very, very knowledgable enemy, or a lot of very angry enemies. Not sure which I prefer more.

Which

Non-progress

It's about time my luck caught up with me.

Nothing this week is going the way I wanted it to.

First, there's been no progress on the acquiring of Insorum. I know Ciarente said she might not be able to produce results, but at least she could tell me if her requests were denied?
I'm not liking my other options, either way.

Second, I drifted into the Basilica again, and met a quite worried Aldrith. I hope nothing I said to his lady-friend worried her to much - last thing I need is her death on my consciounce. Or what's left of it, anyway.

And third, someone tried to kill me.
Yeah, yeah. I get shot at every day. I get blown up every month, and am podded every couple of months. But it's still not every day that someone goes into the single station where I am staying, attempts to hack into the station's mainframe, reverse the air ventilation system to the specific hab-block I am staying in, and deposit an aerosol neurotoxin into the reversed airflow.
She didn't get me. She got four of my security men, and the doctors say likely five before the week is out. She also wounded - *The rustling of papers can be heard in the background.* - nine station security personel with a projectile weapon, and attempted to shoot herself before being stunned and arrested. Bitch didn't want to go down.

So, I've got no progress on my projects, a possible Khanid woman worried sick over something I said, and a Verokhior who wants my neurons to stop pulsing. Permanently.

Great couple of days, huh?