Ecliptic Rift

The lounge didn’t have a lot of lighting. A bit of ambient brightness in a few places, more to create shadows than to actually illuminate anything. Here and there, odd geometric shapes decorated the walls. If you looked slightly away, after a few moments you might get that sensation that something moved or appeared or went away. If you watched very carefully, you might notice that the shapes changed slightly over time in some sort of pattern.

In the middle of the lounge stood a small floor-to-ceiling partition. Water cascaded quietly down its ridges, producing a bit of quiet white noise.

A petite woman with short white hair stood in front of the water display. She didn’t move, but her stance indicated a sort of unpredictable dynamism about her.

Softly, a chime sounded from an indistinct direction. The woman formed her hands into a symbolic shape, what some Intaki called a mudra, and the chime repeated itself an octave higher. She altered her hand formation slightly and a door behind her opened.

Two men entered the room, a wiry Krusual and a solid Brutor. She kept focused on the water display. But as they drew closer, she turned slightly, though not entirely all the way around.

“No one saw you?”

Brutor grimaced before Krusual spoke. “Don’t insult us.”

She inclined her head a notch, acknowledging his point. “So you must have a good reason to visit me.”

Brutor glanced sidelong at Krusual before grunting and removing a datachip from his pocket. He held it in the light for a moment. Interface crystals sparkled where the dim light caught them.

Her hands twisted again and a small drone came around a corner. Inaudible except for the sound of small air jets used to navigate, it darted over to Brutor. A tiny manipulator took hold of the datachip and the drone flew off.

She clucked with disapproval. “You could have transmitted it. Or sent it somehow.”

Krusual lifted his chin. “If we didn’t have another reason to visit you, we would have done just that. But we have something a bit more sensitive to ask.”

She arched her eyebrows and took half a step back.

Krusual looked over at Brutor, saw what he wanted to see, then looked back at her. “We want you to visit our friends in Curse. We want them to be your friends, too.”

The woman looked back and forth between the two men, searching for understanding. “After everything else I’ve done, you ask me to do this? That doesn’t seem like part of our deal.”

“We know. If it was, we wouldn’t have had to come out here.”

“You have to tell me why.”

“We’ll tell you why you will want to do it. Partly because not doing it could cause you a lot of trouble. That means less ISK for you. It could cause trouble for other people, too.”

At this, Brutor furrowed his brow down slightly and grinned. Krusual continued.

“Partly, too, because we can help you with some problems. We know people in Ezzara. People that owe us favors.”

The woman set her mouth in a thin, taut line. Muscles in her neck flexed and throbbed.

Before she could say anything, he spoke again, this time in a much lower tone. “And because they have what we know you really want.”

The woman stood very still for several beats. Her eyes blinked and her hands moved rapidly in a series of gestures and signs, but she didn’t shift on her feet at all.

“When should I leave?”

“We prefer soon, but the specifics will remain up to you. As usual. Once you’ve gotten set up, you’ll receive more instructions.”

An angry red symbol started to appear on the outside of her right shoulder: jagged lines with the faintest hit of purple shadowing.

Brutor’s eyes fell to the symbol as it faded into sight on her skin. Without another word, he turned to leave.

Krusual leaned in to whisper. “Watch your back, egger.”

The two men exited. She turned back to the water display for a long while.

A video feed fades in. Casiella appears to sit perched on the edge of a cloud. She tries to smile but with little success.

Hi. I know we haven’t talked in a while. I, um… well, that’s my fault. I should have come say hello, at least, or let you know how or even where I was. Things just got, erm, complicated.

So, uh, where to begin. Right, well, I’m back in Republic space for now. I’ve been moving around a lot lately. Heimatar, Derelik, Curse… you probably won’t like hearing that, but I don’t really think we have much else to lose, right?

She takes in a deep breath as she closes her eyes. After holding it for a moment, she exhales and looks directly into the camera again.

You were right. Those bastards didn’t intend anything like I did. They weren’t my friends and they hadn’t really changed. After I got the hell out of there, maybe I got a little crazy. I did some things.

It doesn’t matter now. I can’t change all that and I’m not sure I should… because I don’t think I knew everything then that I know now. Damn sure I don’t know as much now as what I need to.

And that means, yes, I’m still working with people you won’t like. You can already guess who they are, but I don’t want to make you more upset. You just deserve to know, that’s all.

I swear to you, though, it’s all for good reasons. When I’m done, the world will be different. Better. Stronger.

Casiella pauses for a long time, sitting very still with slightly wet eyes.

Daddy would be proud if he knew what we were working on. I hope you’ll believe that.

I love you, Mom.

Welcome to the eighteenth installment of the EVE Blog Banter, the monthly EVE Online blogging extravaganza created by CrazyKinux. The EVE Blog Banter involves an enthusiastic group of gaming bloggers, a common topic within the realm of EVE Online, and a week to post articles pertaining to the said topic. The resulting articles can either be short or quite extensive, either funny or dead serious, but are always a great fun to read! Any questions about the EVE Blog Banter should be directed to crazykinux@gmail.com. Check out other EVE Blog Banter articles at the bottom of this post!

On May 6th 2010, EVE Online celebrated its 7th Anniversary. Quite a milestone in MMO history, especially considering that it is one of the few virtual worlds out there to see its population continually grow year after year. For some of you who’ve been here since the very beginning, EVE has evolved quite a lot since its creation. With the expansion rolling out roughly twice a year, New Eden gets renewed and improved regularly. But, how about you the player? How has you gaming style evolved through the years or months since you’ve started playing? Have you always been a carebear, or roleplayer? Have you only focused on PvP or have you given other aspects of the game a chance – say manufacturing. Let’s hear your story!

Like most everybody, I’ve evolved my playstyle over time. In fact, I haven’t stopped evolving my playstyle.

Read more »

I worked out a deal with the Angels. They will sort of look the other way while I start up some planetside development in the redacted system, with the understanding that my efforts for the Archangels will continue for now. I’ve started to build a bit of a rapport with them. They have lots of lab space available out here, but I still haven’t gotten access to the tech that really interests me. All in time.

On the other hand, they have some weird agents. Seems one of them had a bad experience with dolls as a child, lost a bet, ended up ranting about wearing a meat costume, and eventually I brought him a frozen corpse. Creepy stuff, but I think he had come off some boosters. Hell, with the Angels, who am I to tell them “no”? So I did it, and now he’s all upset and having me try to cover for him. At least I’ve got something on him now. Heh.

Also, if the Guardian Angel keeping an eye over my “rehabilitation” sends me for another load of veldspar, I may have to kick him in the gonads. That’s the best he can do for me? Get 100 m³ of veldspar? Damnit.

A former associate, Joron Darkdust, has gotten back in touch recently. He pulled himself out of whatever hellhole had swallowed him up and seems to have fallen in with some interesting folks. I hope it works out for him.

On my end of the cluster, however, I have continued my mission running for the Angel Cartel. While Curse has quite a few podders floating around, by the time I get moving, they’ve all docked up. I frequently have no other pilots in Local, and even when I do, they’ve yet to try to probe me out. Living in W-space taught me to live off the directional scanner, and so I keep a close eye on it despite the fact that it hasn’t happened yet. I believe it will soon enough, though.

Interestingly, the Cartel hasn’t had me dealing with any Republic forces out here. I suspect that the RSS has some sort of arrangement with them, because I haven’t heard of so much as a surveillance outpost. On the other hand, in addition to the expected Sansha elements, CONCORD recon forces, and occasional independent mercenaries, the Gallente Federation has quite a bit of activity out here. They like me a lot less these days.

But we all make choices, don’t we? I mean, the Cartel has sort of started to warm up. The Dominations don’t, of course, but the Archangels have, so hopefully they’ll start to have interest in working out some deals. They have things I want, I can do things they can’t, and it might even turn out that I can help with, erm, publicity.

So I went back out to Curse to try to patch things up with the Cartel. I’m hearing some interesting rumors about some of their research results, and just raiding their Metropolis data centers hasn’t gotten me what I want. Playing nice with the Dominations should help, right?

Not so much. The agent who’d finally worked with me promised to kick me up to a Domination, but didn’t actually get me connected to him. Now she suddenly won’t talk to me herself, either. Fine, I thought, I’ll work with one of the lower-order agents.

Either they have some internal issues, or I got suckered, because after doing a bunch of work to eliminate mercs who’d threatened SoE hospitals, they sent me into one of their own heavy fleets… while I flew a Wolf. That didn’t go as well as I’d hoped, really, so now I’m down one assault frigate (and a pod from trying to fly back to Derelik, but that didn’t matter much).

I did make it back to Derelik after all, which got interesting on its own. But I’ll have to recount that bit later. And I still need to get things sorted with the Cartel.

Not only have the Sansha threatened the world, but other capsuleers have evidently lost their minds. I don’t want to get in the middle of the fighting, as I can think of lots of other ways to do well by doing good.

So I’m moving as much of my staff as I can out of the Republic. Some administrative functions will stay at the Ecliptic Rift corporate headquarters in Larkugei and others handling our remaining trade business in Rens and Hek, but they have strict instructions not to go planetside under any circumstances.

The rest of us will head to lowsec in Derelik. With much lower population levels in the Ammatar Mandate, the threat seems lowered despite the Nation’s extensive activity in the area. In fact, I intend to focus heavily on intel gathering and information warfare operations against their installations out there. This also keeps us close to Curse and the Angel Cartel. Nation won’t tangle with them too much, I expect. The Dominations will react with substantially greater ferocity than the weak CONCORD-affiliated nations, and possibly they can lend a hand with any Sansha tech my research staff can’t handle.

Now I need to go talk to Mom and get her to come with me from Eram. We’ve not spoken in some time, since that White Rose Society mess, so I can just imagine how it will go. Damn it.

In space, it’s always night time, despite the nebulae that set the sky on fire. In the dark little corners of the Metropolis slums, some constellations just don’t see as much traffic as one might expect. Occasionally, a gang of thugs moves through, looking for honest pilots to assault. Or Local will show a small squadron of militia looking for complexes in the shifting tides of war. Even the occasional solo hauler flies through, trying to get through the dangerous rookery as quickly as possible on her way to taking care of business.

So when I spent some time looking for more data centers, I didn’t hesitate to dodge through some of the more dangerous crossroad systems and head right to where I could find the sort of action I wanted. After all, the Angel Cartel swarms all through Republic space. They inhabit the little deadspace crevices where the Fleet doesn’t look. Actually, I have an arrangement with some groups inside the Cartel, but that only goes so far. When I fly out to Curse, I play by their rules, but on my turf, anything can happen.

But a cosmic signature appeared in Arnstur, one that didn’t fit any of the “standard” templates for Cartel facilities. I spent a bit of time with my Cheetah cloaked up in a nice little intermediate safe, and it didn’t take long before the system just reported back “ruins“. I noted the exact location in my navigational systems and flew back to a nearby station where I’d stashed Asymptotic Security, a decent Drake battlecruiser that had served me well.

The crew moved my pod over to Asymptotic quickly. After a quick preflight check of all core systems and fitting, we undocked and headed back. A Hurricane on the Todifrauan gate in Evati didn’t bother us any, nor even hail us on local comms, so we pressed on. Once there, we warped quickly to the deadspace pocket and found an ancient Amarrian station, almost certainly pre-Rebellion.

Vented gas surrounded the site and debris floated nearby. I immediately noticed that we had company in the pocket, though: rogue drones swarmed everywhere, ranging from tiny frigate-sized creatures to behemoths that had captured and infested Dominix-class battleships.

Threat management systems didn’t detect any sort of sentience at all among this hive, so when they engaged us, I turned on the hardeners and set to work with my Scourge heavy missiles for the larger enemies and a flight of Hobgoblin II light drones for the smaller ones. At the same time, though, the local open communications channel would occasionally show the presence of other pilots coming through. I kept a close eye on the directional scanner, and when one of the other podders finally deployed some combat probes and got within 4 AU, I recalled my own drones and warped out. At the time, only my hunter and I showed up on Local, so I couldn’t have any doubts as to his quarry (not that I would have stuck around much longer to find out). This breather gave me the chance to go fetch the Cheetah back, and when I got back into Arnstur, I noticed he had a corpmate in system. The corpmate disappeared a few moments later and my hunter returned. Cat-and-mouse games only entertain me for a short bit, so after a few minutes I headed back to Helgatild where I’d left my crew and the battlecruiser.

The Republic Fleet stationmaster feigned an obsequious sort of politeness, but his charade didn’t really matter. As far as I care, the Fleet can go hang, for all that they’ve done (or not done, truth be told) over the last several years. Even after the Elder War, I don’t believe for a moment that the corruptive poison has left the Republic, and the Fleet represents some of the worst of it. So after a bit to recheck everything and attend to a few minor business matters, we launched back out and headed into Arnstur. No other podders showed up, so we finished off what remained of the drones.

One wrecked part of the station drew particular attention. My systems detected light activity inside. I couldn’t tell whether the drones had a hive inside, or whether some sort of devolved human society inhabited it, or something else entirely.

After pondering this for a few minutes (and salvaging what remained of the twisted wreckage from the drones themselves), I decided to obliterate this active section and let whatever souls might have breathed their last in this ancient graveyard rest.

I’ve rejoined New Eden Research after building up Mundilfari Station in Vorsk, so if anyone needs highly-available research facilities of any sort, we can help. Corporations can join NER (including subsidiary corporations) and use the material research labs for 15k ISK/hour, or production efficiency labs for free. Copying and invention will require other arrangements. Send me a message and we can work them out.

Putting up a large tower, lots of labs, and requisite defense in case of war took a good bit of time and ISK. Fortunately, my trading efforts keep paying off well, and I have a good system in Heimatar so that I don’t have to spend too much time on it. Once NER gets going, I expect that the tower will at least pay for its own fuel costs. As an added benefit, I have copy slots available for my own use at all times, and all the research (including invention) goes a lot faster. Dedicated facilities really make a difference.

I also did a bit more exploration, primarily clearing out a few facilities hidden in cosmic anomalies near Vorsk as well as poking at some Angel Cartel datacenters and such. That actually reminds me, I need to jump back down to Curse so that I can visit with my research staff in the Cartel labs and keep our arrangements down there going. I know I have something of an inconsistent arrangement, so I’ll need to address that soon. Maybe.

The massive battlecruiser finally slid back into its hangar after its return voyage. The magnetic clamps engaged to hold it in place and prevent it from accidentally crushing any of the small maintenance drones that now swarmed over it for inspection and fueling. A gantry lifted out the piloting capsule through a small recess and hauled it to a disembarkation chamber for the captain to exit with at least a small bit of dignity.

Casiella hated this part: gasping for air as her lungs switched back to oxygen from the ambiotic fluid of the pod gave her a brief sensation of drowning. She knew, of course, that she wouldn’t drown and that the systems always worked. But something deep in the reptilian hindbrain just refused to learn the lesson. She didn’t enjoy the sensation of entering the pod and swallowing the fluid, either. Leaving the pod, though, felt much worse because it came accompanied by the disengaging of the neural connection to her ship.

Moments before, she could navigate among the stars as easily as any other human might turn their heads. She could see millions of kilometers to focus on a specific object. With the same effort usually required to gesture with a hand, she could sweep away enemies (or competitors, which amounted to the same thing) via volleys of missiles. Her drones acted to accomplish her whims. That structure there? Demolish it? She just needed to want it to happen, and it did. Back on her own two feet, in her “meatspace body,” all those advantages went away.

But flesh has its own advantages.

She quickly ducked into the nearby shower to rinse off the remaining fluid and don a dry jumpsuit. A light above the door turned green and one of her senior staff assistants entered: a Krusual woman whose splotchy facial birthmarks made her an outcast in most of Minmatar society.

Casiella addressed her assistant while the cosmetibots attended to her hair. “That part of the plan went well, Jorunn. The RSS agent seemed very pleased.”

Jorunn focused on her datapad for a moment before speaking. “Yes, the intel dataflows have already engaged. Nearly all their agents have requested your attention. I suppose those Angel Diamond tags went over well.”

Before responding, Casiella selected a facial tattoo type for the night and the cosmetibots went to work. “He didn’t even ask where I’d got them. I think he just assumed I’d gone out and found them myself. Enough ISK can get you anything, though.”

“These days, that’s true enough. The Republic has warmed to you somewhat since you returned from Syndicate space. By now, they’ve chosen to overlook some of the work we did out there.”

The hint of a cruel smile curled across Casiella’s lips. “So much the better for them. The RSS knows the value of a good informant when it finds one, and they’d rather have me working for them than against them.” Now that the cosmetibots finished their tasks and buzzed rapidly back into their receptacles, she stood and looked up at Jorunn, waiting for the inevitable.

“You’ll have a tough time balancing the internal factions, though. Outwardly, of course, they’ll have nothing for praise for you now that you’ve joined the Tribal Liberation Force, but internally they will prefer that you work with them.” Jorunn turned around the datapad and presented a few dossiers before explaining that her employer would need to choose an agent or two.

Casiella pondered for a few moments before tapping a thin finger against her chin. “So you just assumed I’d go right for contract work rather than patrolling or ‘plex security?”

This time, Jorunn smiled cruelly in an echo of her employer’s expression a few moments ago. “You wanted that starbase in high-security space. I told you that the TLF would put you on the fast track to it, and agent contracts will get you there fastest.”

“Fine, then.” The petite Sebiestor sighed. “But let’s get this done quickly. I’ve better things to do than fight this war on someone else’s terms.”