End of an Era

I've been so busy station-side that I missed the fact that I've now been a fully qualified capsuleer captain for two years now.

Most of my classmates are commanding Carriers and other Capital class ships now with thousands if not tens of thousands of crew. It amuses them, the fact that even now I still prefer frigates. If I really wanted to I could dedicate some time getting up to speed on how to pilot the larger ships and operate Capital-class modules but I've certainly not been slacking on perfecting my piloting and engineering skills so the only edge they might have is experience.

But I digress, I have no intention of commanding a Carrier or similar.

I also found out today that Orber Letava, my graduate tutor back at PTS, has retired! He's been replaced by some green-gilled newcomer Rian Sumana. And I wasn't even invited to the retirement party. Hmph.

Midnight Conversations

Last night I couldn't really sleep, so I went for a stroll through the station. I found myself in the bar, but it was very quiet for some reason and so I ended up chatting to the owner.
Apparently he's seen me and my ships around and seemed to be aware of my... Ammatar removal work. Intrigued at why he would pay so much attention to this, I asked him what his story was and this is what he said to me:

---

I hate the Ammatar.

My ancestors were lucky, back when we ruled our stars. In the Uka'a Mountains of Huggar, one of the greatest forges of our ancient wonders was situated. Producing the grand stations, the acceleration gates that survive to this day and of course the pride of the tribal fleets, it was served by the best engineers and like the other grand shipyards of Pator, was held in the highest regard throughout the tribes.
The day the Amarr came to Matar and destroyed much of our civilisation, the few warnings that could be sent were heeded in Uka'a and it was evacuated with every other colony. Of the 18 Star Voyagers that launched, only 3 made it past the blockade of Amarr ships and on to Onga. They were the fortunates: other colonies lost everyone. The Uka'a engineers settled a hidden corner of the second planet and rebuilt from nothing, always keeping the tradition of mechanics strong even when much of the knowledge had been destroyed. Grounded, the community kept its spirit and harboured dreams of rebuilding the fleets to go and reclaim their enslaved families.

My family had been mechanics and mining engineers. My father was the head technician in the main robotics facility and my mother was a freelance refinery efficiency expert. They died in an earthquake when I was in my tenth year and my grandfather, a retired farmer, took me in. On the day the monsoon season ended in my twelfth year, a small starship descended through the clouds and landed in the field behind my grandfather's smallholdings. From inside came a Matari man of a tribe I could not place. We were mostly Sebiestor and Brutor here; some Vherokior and an insular community of Thukker was not cosmopolitan enough. He was dressed in strange clothing made of good quality materials I had not seen before and wanted to speak to my grandfather and myself. He claimed to be a half-Krusual infiltrator of the Nefantar - the tribe who sided with the Amarr and traded away our families and freedom of the mind for expensive trinkets. He wished to reform the Ammatar from within and to do that he would require young, fresh minds from outside the Amarr influence that could become pod pilots and carry sway. He said I seemed to be ideal and that he wanted to speak to the rest of the community to see if there were others who would be interested. My grandfather was guaranteed I would be given the best education and become a licensed pilot: that I could make a difference and help return the wayward Nefantar tribe to their senses striking a blow against the Amarr. Others in the community agreed and 8 other children came with me back to the man's ship. As our families cheered and waved us off, the man lead us into the hold of his ship and we lifted off. Excited, we scrambled around an observation porthole to catch our first glimpses of the stars from space. It was a dream come true for us...

What we saw was beams of red flame carve through our people and within moments a charred, gashed mess was all that remained of the centuries-old Uka'a descendant settlement. The younger children thought it was a joke or a holoreel. Some sat in shock and began to wail. I was the oldest and I hammered on the doors screaming my lungs out at the man who had betrayed us. There was a cloud of blue gas and we all fell into unconsciousness.
The next day we woke feeling terrible and found ourselves in chains in a slave market somewhere in Ammatar space. The man was there, talking to some tall figures in hoods and one by one we were dragged off by more like him. He was not half-Krusual at all. He looked like the ones dragging us off to our new masters - the 'Ammatars', once Nefantar. He looked at us with contempt as if we were dogs and not his own people. I spat in his face as I was manhandled off after some haughty Amarr woman, and earned a broken jaw for my troubles.
I endured seven years of slavery: whips, vitoc, starving, reciting the Pax Amarria... all for some Amarr woman I was never even allowed to know the name of. I was a cleaner in her holiday retreat somewhere in Tanoo and I never saw any of my fellow captives of Uka'a again.
My release came at the cost of another slave. He was much, much older and his sight was failing: a Brutor man with education he had been caught when a passing slaver ship had found his trading vessel on fire after an attack by Blood Raiders. He told me about the space faring community and that there were freedom fighters who would try and rescue us.
It was my mistake - I grabbed the first opportunity I could to transmit a broadcast aimed at the Republic for help. It alerted the Amarr Navy and the older slave took the blame for it to spare me. He was executed as the rest of us were assembled and forced to watch. An injection of a viral accelerant meant he suffered the vitoc death in but an hour of magnified agony.
It was only a few hours later as I sat on my bunk crying that the palace was rocked with explosions. A small cell of Matari freedom fighters had come for us after some friends of theirs had created a distraction for the Navy. We were finally free.
Two years later and I am here now, running a bar on this station. I am saving up to go to Pator Tech School and become a ship engineer because I want to build the ships that will blow the traitors apart. I want to join the fight to free my brothers and sisters... but because I am still dependent on vitoc I do not think I will be granted a pilot's licence. That does not matter, there is still much I can do to help.
I remember Uka'a and the stories of my ancestors. I will be there when the Empire falls.
Above all, I hate the Ammatar.

Traffic Jams

I note that there is more than a passing resemblnce between trying to undock from Brutor Tribe Treasury statin in Rens and playing that game where you roll everything up in a tight ball. Hundreds of ships stuck in a ball because the undocking ramps don't know when to hold up.

MatariBando

Seems I may have gained myself a student to instruct in the ways of Hei'Tar form MatariBando. This could be fun, especially because said student is Evanda Char!

Hei'Tar paied blades are idea for close-quarters work, able to disarm, stab, slash and parry with ease. Need good strength in the fingers, especially the upper joints though.

I'm ready to begin whenever you are, Eva.

Cousins, ships and other animals

I think Nyneve enjoyed her introduction into the every day life of a capsuleer pilot, even if she did end up somewhat shellshocked.

Anyway, I find myself once again drawn towards my Ares-class Interceptor. It really is a stunning vessel and flies so well. It's power grid is a little lacking, since the missile bay upgrades, but apart from that its a formidable machine. It's just a pity that everyone considers it to be useless because the Taranis is better. Personally I think the Taranis and the Crow are by far the most superior interceptors developed yet but that does not mean the Ares is poor on its own merit.

Now the tricky part... do I fit a damage control system to capitalise on it's extremely solid structure, or the latest in adaptive nanomembrane armour technology to assist in armour maintenance?

[Ysolde demonstrates combat (finale)]

The ship had begun to undock before Nyneve even noticed. The docking ramps were free and the Adamant coasted out a few kilometres, slowing to a halt.
“They’ll see us the moment we arrive – deadspace dumps the warp tunnel out at the beacon and I can’t get a better approach I’m afraid. Still, I’m good for close range dogfights. Just remember to hang on, OK?” Ysolde explained to Nyneve as the ship abruptly spun around to face the station.
“Where are we-” Nyneve’s query was cut off by the ship suddenly powering forwards at full acceleration heading right towards the side of the docking array. “WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!”
At the last moment before the ship slammed head-on with a bulkhead, the space around them distorted and the warp tunnel opened. Nyneve was silenced by the sight as they warped right through the station, then through the planet of Huggar. Matar zoomed into view and they passed right through it again before the distortion began to wind down and they dropped out of warp.

Ysolde relayed her HUD overlay down to one of the holopanels Nyneve could see. “Get used to the interface.” The overview was full of red icons all bearing the name ‘Angel’ as the ship slowed to a stop. Suddenly, they all flashed with a yellow square, a warning sound accompanying through the speaker panels, then the yellow became red. “They see us. We’re locked. Into the breach!”

Gistii-technology fuelled afterburners online, the ship spurted forwards, curving into a tangential approach to the leading Angel Predator vessel, one of the predicted Cynabal class cruisers. A barrage of missiles both standard and heavy rocked the ship as they exploded all around, denting the shields down to 70%. The shield boosting arrays activated as the Adamant turned its guns onto the nearest hostile, a Nomad that began to target paint Ysolde’s ship. The Angel vaporised in a single volley but another Nomad had begun target painting and Nyneve cringed as she watched the readouts show the ship signature radius balloon in size to that of a sitting duck. “Don’t worry. They still cannot track me. We’re moving too fast for cruiser turrets. If anything, the horde of frigates is a greater threat.” Ysolde reassured.

Another Nomad exploded. Guns trained upon the fast-approaching pair of Raiders as the Adamant cut a wide sweep around the leading Predator, under the optimal range for its artillery cannons. The shield booster systems periodically came to life when integrity dipped below 75% but for all the missile explosions around the ship, surprisingly little damage was being done. Ysolde explained how clever Thukker engineering could be to Nyneve.

The ship wove and danced in between the other cruisers, focusing fire on frigate after frigate and blowing them apart with ease. Nyneve was rooted to the tactical overlay display, watching the view from different camera drones and the range, trajectory, velocity and other details calculated by the ship. She watched Ysolde skate on the fine line between her turret optimal range and it’s 50% accuracy falloff distance. She saw calculated comparative velocity used to decide if a missile would have enough fuel to hit the target, and the complexities of minimising the transversal and radial velocities to catch them square in the face was giving her a headache. This battle was half adrenaline-fuelled dogfight and half tactical command intel use. The Adamant’s AI was generating sound to match sensor data and Nyneve could hear missiles being fired and from what direction. Each heavy missile explosion rocked the ship but the engines seemed powerful enough to realign in an instant and orbit was barely broken until one by one the frigate fleet dwindled to nothing leaving the frustrated cruisers.

“OK you wanted to see some cruisers, I’ll show you how damaging these things are...” and the ship suddenly slowed to a halt. Then it was shaken violently as explosions of heavy Havoc missiles and ammunition shells pounded from all sides, the large guns finally able to track the ship. Shields were being stripped at a frightening speed and at full power the shield booster arrays were not able to cope.
“OK OK OK I get it!” Nyneve started to panic. Then she was pressed back into her chair as the ship shot forwards, powering up to a top speed of one kilometre a second as shields hit less than 20%. Suddenly the rate of shield loss dropped, as the guns could no longer find their mark and the missile explosions were half outrun. It wasn’t long before the shield systems had regained total integrity and one cruiser on fire exploded as the last bulkheads of its hull disintegrated under the hail of EMP shells.
Nyneve stopped looking at the telemetry and just watched from the window as the created sounds of battle filled the little bridge. The Cynabal cruisers were several times the size of the Adamant. Impressive ships but flawed inherently. How could a small ship, albeit one with supremely good technology powering it, be so immune? To even be able to toy with a pack of them! Nyneve was sure that the fools in command of the Angel ships didn’t know how to use them properly. There must be ways of hitting smaller ships – slowing them down, a swarm of drones, assault launchers. It only furthered her resolve to become the best damn cruiser pilot RMS had ever produced.

The fight raged on. The Adamant’s guns had to ceasefire to reload often and the valuable seconds bought allowed the damage repair systems of the enemy ships to work. But under the concentrated fire in precisely the right weak spots using ammunition tailored to exploit resistance holes, the Predator could not withstand the assault any better than its Depredator cohorts.
“Woo! I own. Told you.” Ysolde was cheery at the victory as the ship slowed down to investigate whether there was anything worth looting left.
Nyneve was silent a moment before finally speaking up. “Ya know, the fight was really cool but it broke my head with all of that data. And… well I think the Cynabal commanders were crap.”
“Be that as it may, we still kicked their arses and I’ve yet to meet one that isn’t crap. I’m sure in the hands of a capsule fitted captain it’d be more dangerous, but as I like to tell cocky cruiser pilots I’ve never met one I couldn’t blow up.” Ysolde countered. “Anyway, little of worth left here. Still, it’s all recyclable and I like to help keep the universe tidy.”

Nyneve took the opportunity to watch the planet of Matar as the Jaguar scooped up what could be salvaged. They were close enough for it to fill a quarter of the sky but not close enough to make out much surface detail. It looked a lot less lush and fertile than the stories said it used to be. Amarr devastation will do that to a planet, she thought.

“Should we go back to the station for a drink to wind down? I’ll drop you off back in Ammold afterwards.” Ysolde made the offer to Nyneve.
“Yeah that’d be great. I need a drink or three after all of this. It’s going to take me ages to get used to it all. Especially the Jumping.”
Ysolde reflected on how different she was when she started out. To begin with, she’d never been put off by warping or jumping. On second thought, perhaps it was because of her science and engineering background that helped her understand what was going on and how they were protected. Nyneve had had no such thing. “I’ll get the first round, Ny.”
The ship’s AI announced ‘Warp Drive Active’ and the Jaguar headed to dock.

[Nyneve bites off more than she can chew]

The docking queue was quick and the station comparatively quiet. Ysolde disembarked from her pod and took Nyneve for a walk around the station as the hangar crew unloaded the packages for her agent and performed basic maintenance on the Adamant. Nyneve had perked up again considerably and was eager to see what the Angel pirates were like first hand.
“But I don’t’ see why they don’t use pods too…” Nyneve was gesticulating excitedly as she drank her kaffe.
“A question of economics. The majority of the Angel Cartel pilots are grunts. They have neither the training nor talents to be worth a pod, in their eyes. The higher ranked members are capsule fitted and recently some of the Curse and Stain alliances have found this out first hand with the rising tensions between the Cartel and Sansha’s Nation.” Ysolde answered back, matter-of-factly.
Nyneve’s face fell. “So… that means when we hunt them, they’re all going to die? No pods?”
“Yes.” Ysolde shrugged lightly. “But they know this too. Remember also that the vast majority of pilots out there are not capsule-fitted and their ships also have more crew. We are the lucky ones who get a second chance. And even if we do die if we are in our capsules we will live again as clones. These are all choices that are made by the individual pilots. Take the risk and prey on innocent miners and you will forfeit your life.”
“Yeah… I guess.” Nyneve’s facial expression was a little hard for Ysolde to gauge. Somewhere between distaste and pity.
“No matter how peaceful your intentions are as a pilot, if you ever undock then you will at some stage find yourself in the situation where it is either you or them. Sometimes, ‘they’ are pod-fitted and sometimes they are not.” Ysolde continued. “For what it’s worth, I have never destroyed a defenceless capsule.” She glanced down at her empty cup of chai. “And I do not fly ships that require crew much, in case I get shot down.”
“I heard about the Hades Express from my Uncle…” Nyneve nodded slowly.
“It’s all past history though. I’ve settled on my course as a pilot and I do not see myself ever piloting large ships with extensive crews. The skeleton staff of an Interdictor or Destroyer is my limit. Even my Industrial vessel is automated. And besides, lazy pilots often underestimate what you can do with a frigate. I have yet to ever find a situation where I wished I was in a cruiser instead.”
Nyneve’s eyes gleamed at Ysolde’s comments, as if it were some sort of challenge.
Ysolde noticed and raised an eyebrow. “You don’t believe me?”
Nyneve smiled coyly, “I’d like to see you stand up to a couple of good cruisers.”
Ysolde made a quick motion as if checking a wristwatch, “what, now? Certainly! And you’ll have the best view as well!” A cunning grin followed Ysolde’s statement as Nyneve realised she’d just talked herself into a corner.
With a resigned “arse…” Nyneve finished up her kaffe.
“I’ll meet you back at the Adamant. I have an agent here who keeps tabs on the Angel movements. I’ll see if he’s got a couple of ‘good cruisers’ to hunt. Oh and so you know, they always have support wings of frigates. Some of theme even splash out on elite ships like mine…” Ysolde smiled wickedly as she got up.

Nyneve looked up at the Adamant as she waited for Ysolde. She was hopping from foot to foot nervously and really couldn’t imagine this ship holding its own under the combined firepower of several cruiser class vessels. She was really hoping Ysolde had done this a million times before and hadn’t just accepted the challenge to call her bluff. Nyneve had been wanting to pilot cruisers since she signed up at the RMS; in particular she liked the look of the Rupture. The news that ships like this one, impressive as they were she had to admit, could take one of those down…
“OK are we ready? Let’s roll.” Ysolde had approached and Nyneve hadn’t noticed, flinching a little in surprise.
“She’s all loaded up. Targets are grouping at a deadspace beacon the other side of Matar so we have to be quick.” Ysolde waved Nyneve over to the elevator. “We don’t’ have exact numbers but I’m guessing it’s a standard medium-threat raiding formation. Looking at six Cynabal-class cruisers with a backing fleet of 8 to 10 Dramiel and Daredevil-class frigates. They’ll be of mixed configuration with target painting support, some missile use and a combination of artillery and autocannon fire consisting of a balance of the various damage types.” Ysolde explained her thoughts to Nyneve as they entered the ship and walked down the gangways to the bridge.

Nyneve was a little pale and Ysolde noticed, smiling in a reassuring manner. “Don’t worry. I own. The Adamant owns harder. You’ve heard the tales of what we’d encountered and survived together. This is absolutely nothing.”
Nyneve was left alone, strapped in and waiting. For the first time, she took a few moments to peer over the bridge area. She could see the panels that would have been filled with controls and displays had this not been a capsule-fitted solo ship. She thought it was kind of cool to have your own private frigate class ship that didn’t need any crew because you were a capsule pilot that could command it all solo. But in her mind this was only a runabout. The real way to fly was with a grand ship and full crew complement. She was definitely going after that Rupture now.

Old Log entry

I found this from a year and a half ago. I wonder where Ori is now? And Azadkiel.

---

Strange news today. Took some time to get the paperwork caught up on so by the time I finally boarded my pod to get out there, I missed all the fireworks. I found Ori moving out of the Rebublic and very nearly joining up with the Amarr! Took a while to get my head around; I mean ORI?!? Work with the Amarr against the Minmatar??? What the hell is going on in the Republic? Seems he's moving out to Caldari space but very nearly joined the enemies of the cause out of some kind of revenge against what the Minmatar freedom fighters had done to him. All of which I missed. I think it's the Lomong mess, exacerbated by Myadra upping his bounty after his errors got him flagged as a naughty boy by Concord. He seemed pretty deeply hurt though. And to consider such a childishly extreme revenge... well I told him exactly what I thought of that idea. I think I held my temper pretty well and remained civil, all things considering. The real feat of will was when I went onto the Minmatar channel to find out what the fuck happened there and found it the topic of conversation already. Lomong accusing him of turning into a pirate and scamming innocent people was the first thing I saw and I blew my stack. Good thing Adamant's AI suggested I word my thoughts more clearly or else they wouldnt' have been understood. I think it would have come out something like 'ofcoursehesnotafuckingpirateheneverscammedanyonehisscamswerebloodycrapjokesthat
wouldnthavefooledasoddingAMMATARthebountyistheretowindhimupandtogetattentionoffmyadra
howthehellcouldyouhavethoughthedbeforealgetasenseofhumourifyouhadnotkeptrisingtoit
hedhavegotboredandstopped'
I don't remember now what I actually said but I think I still opened with something sharp. He'd got nothing but flak and hassle from people taking things way too seriously and personally. At the time I thought it was people bantering - didn't think it was meant for real. And then something happens and they all turn on him and THAT is for real!
What is going on? The other day Midnighter was an arrogant wanker to me, putting me down on public channel after ignoring me.
Midnighter and Lomong. Hrm.

I need to get away a little - I'm taking it all kinda personally. But I can't help it; I see my friends get kicked and upset and that pisses me off. That and myself being kicked by friends. I think I'll go and spend some time in Trytedald. Urban Management look like good employers. And the new guy Azadkiel is my latest charge. I wish Ori good luck out in the State. I reccomended The Citadel, Muvolailen as a place to start. Some good agents there and it's a good place to travel from. Near Saila too. I'll prolly go and visit him once he's settled and spend a couple of days working for the State. My rep with them remains wobbly.
But first, back to the science books.

[Ysolde takes Nyneve on a trip]

Once Nyneve's friends had said their goodbyes and headed back for their afternoon astronavigation classes, Ysolde took Nyneve aboard and onto the tiny bridge. As a custom-built capsule ship rather than a converted older vessel, the bridge area was a small passenger lounge with a good forwards view down along the twin hulls of the Jaguar. Ysolde played with a few settings on a display panel and holographic images of the camera drones output flickered to life as speaker panels came online. "Enjoy the cruise!"
Nyneve settled in comfortably as Ysolde headed off to hook up to her pod in the belly of the vessel. Within minutes, the docking arrays were smoothly hovering the ship to the undocking ramps and Ysolde had to turn the sound feedback down from the passenger berth as Nyneve's excited squee almost deafened her aural pathways through the podware interface.
The repulsors coasted the ship away from the station, rapidly heading towards the back end of a slow-moving Mammoth-class industrial vessel that was taking time to align itself before opening a warp tunnel. Nyneve squealed that they were about to crash, then squealed again in excitement as a blast of the engines pulled the ship into a sharp upwards bank whilst the autopilot came online. Ysolde spun the camera drones around the Adamant so Nyneve could get a good look, then directed a few to inspect the nearby Mammoth for Nyneve's viewing pleasure. For her efforts, she got an earful of "Wow look at that!/It's got WHAT?/Oh my God its vast!"
Then the warp engines came online and with an almighty roar as space itself distorted into a subspace tunnel across the star system, the Adamant resoundly broke the conventional laws of physics to the tune of 6 light years per second. Ysolde was sure everyone back in the station must have heard Nyneve's "WOOOOHOOOO!!!" at that moment.

The ship was buffeted around by the collapse of the warp tunnel as the jump gate fast approached and Nyneve made some rather uncomfortable sounds. Ysolde was surprised for just a moment until she remembered the cushioning effects of her pod and that passenger seats lacked such luxuries. "Sorry about that, takes some getting used to. It happens every time we drop out of warp. When you're in a capsule, though, you won't feel it any more."
Some camera drones were instructed to drift over the CONCORD ships at the gate so Nyneve could see the bizarre hulking forms of the battleships and the nimble little SWAT vessels. She remarked upon the similarity of the latter to the Republic Fleet's own Firetail vessel, itself cribbed from an old design from a long-forgotten rogue faction. Ysolde couldn't help but smile as she told Nyneve that next time, they could go for a spin in her private Firetail.
The approach to the gate didn't take long with the afterburners at full thrust and Ysolde told Nyneve to hold on tight. "Don't blink or you'll miss it!" The camera drones recalled automatically and the displays blinked out one by one until only the main window remained for Nyneve to witness the jump. The gate itself was an Amarr design in burnished pyerite and the build-up of power surrounded the Adamant in a corona of greenish plasma until Nyneve had to shield her eyes from glare with her arm. Then it happened: everything ripped through subspace, becoming transparent then fading into nothing before reforming before her eyes – all in the space of a heartbeat. Nyneve was terrified for that moment as she watched herself, the ship and reality itself atomise...

The ship took a few moments to run mandatory diagnostics to ensure the jump went smoothly, automatically cloaked by the gate in case of camping hostiles. Ysolde wondered why she hadn't heard anything from Nyneve at the jump - no shouting, squealing, screaming or laughing. "Ny - you OK?"
It took a few seconds before her cousin found her voice, "no, y-yes... what just happened to me? I came apart! My atoms flung themselves away into bits and I came back!" Her voice was breaking into hysterics. "I thought it had gone wrong and I was going to die!"
"Ny, Ny - it's alright, everything is fine. You're fine, the ship is fine, and I’m fine. That's how a harmonic wave jump gate works. We're all alive and hunky dory and in this ship you'll be safe." The Jaguar smoothly moved off and arced downwards into a slow orbit around the gate – Ysolde wasn't going to enter warp just yet. Not until Nyneve was alright and ready.
Nyneve's voice was small, "I don't think I want to be a pilot any more..."
Ysolde tried a different tactic. "Did you notice how one minute, you were in Ammold and the next you were in Pator? How the stars shifted, the sun was a different colour and the planets had changed? When you came here from Saila you were in a cryotank to withstand the large number of jumps and warps so you would never have seen it before." She spun the ship around so the main view window faced in the direction of Matar. "You see that pale disc in the distance to your right? That is Matar. That is our homeworld."
Nyneve quietened down as she stared out of the window at the sight of the mythical homeworld. "D-do we have family there?"
Ysolde pondered how to answer for a moment. "We might, but if we do I have not been able to find them. It's been too many generations. I did try and make some contacts within the Amarr Empire to trace the lineage of the slave families back but I couldn't get far enough."
Nyneve nodded slowly, calming down now as she watched the gate slowly arc through her field of view.
"You ready to enter warp? I'm going to dock at the station orbiting Huggar."
"Yeah..."
Once again the ship veered off as it aligned with the planet Huggar, then accelerated through the warp tunnel for a few moments until the speck before them grew into the bright disc of Huggar and the matari station in geosynchronous orbit loomed.

[Nyneve and friends meet the Adamant]

Ysolde stood outside the bustling station canteen, idly rubbing her shoulder as she glanced around at the throngs of students. She was right on time, as usual, and Nyneve was late, as always. She'd noticed the awed looks she was receiving from one or two of the first year capsule pilots, figuring they must have correctly identified her capsule interface plugs, and smiled back a little in encouragement.
Sharp hearing picked out the familiar footfalls of her younger cousin running along the corridors accompanied by two others. Turning to face them, Ysolde was surprised to see Nyneve flanked by an older Vherokior in his travelling garb and a Brutor girl pointing directly ahead at her. Ysolde felt rather self-conscious at that.
"Hey Ys! This is Tarq and that's Vash," the excitable Sebiestor gestured first to the Vherokior who flashed a grin and then the Brutor who waved, perhaps looking a little embarrassed at having been caught pointing. "I told them you were coming to visit me and that you'd bring a capsule ship. We want to see it!"
For a moment, a bemused Ysolde found it hard to believe that Nyneve was only 3 years younger than her but was acting like an over-excitable teenager. "Sure. It's in the hangars. We can see it from the observation corridor if we got he long way, then you can come down and meet her up close."
Remembering her time here visiting friends at the Republic Military School when she was studying at Pator Tech School, Ysolde led the way and did her best to answer the barrage of questions about what being a capsule pilot was really like, what the money was like, what it felt like to die and wake up again (she couldn’t speak from experience) and every minor detail about the ship she'd brought.

The glittering lights of the hangar arrays reflected off the myriad ships entering and leaving the docking ramps. As the group meandered along the corridor peering through the vast windows at the scene below, Ysolde indicated the direction of the hangar she had been temporarily allocated upon arrival. In it the lone vessel hovered over the holding pad, landing signal lights flashing in a holding pattern sequence. This was the Adamant: the Jaguar-class assault frigate that Captain Ysolde Xen of the Liberal Trading Co. had made her name with.
"It's way bigger than I thought it'd be!" Vash gaped at the vessel, taking it all in.
"It's almost twice a Reaper..." Tarq agreed.
"The guns alone are huge!" Nyneve pointed at one of the aft-mounted advanced 280mm Howitzer artillery pieces. Ysolde smiled with a devilish curl of her lip, "You should see the size of the ammunition it fires." She indicated a distance of about a foot with her hands. "This big. And that's just around the middle..."
"No way!" The Brutor girl goggled. "You’d better believe it if you’re going to be flying one someday. And this is a small ship with small guns, just a frigate. Tempest Battleships mounting artillery cannon will fire shells that are almost as wide as you are tall, Ny..."
"I call bullshit." Tarq's flat tone was clearly disbelieving.
"Really?" Ysolde looked him right in the eye with a little deviousness leaking through in her voice. She said nothing further and just walked towards the rear of the vessel where the cargo bay doors were open, robotic arms moving items out, indicated that they should follow, and then pointed up inside. "You can't miss them."
In amongst the large boxes and canisters already removed from the cargo bay, with markings such as 'Enriched Uranium' and 'Phased Muon Caster', there was a full clip of Fusion ammo designed for battleship turrets. Even the big, hulking form of Tarq was overshadowed by a single bullet as he strode over to one. "Well... fuck me!"
Vash just shrugged with a laugh.

"So, you still have the afternoon off?" Ysolde let Tarq and Vash ride the elevator up into the cargo bay to poke around as she took Nyneve by the elbow off to one side. Her cousin nodded excitedly, "Oh yes, I do - but they don't though."
Ysolde did a magnificent job of pretending to look a little disappointed that the loud, constant questions and inane remarks wouldn't be remaining with her for the rest of the day.
"I have a couple of deliveries to make in the constellation so we can take the scenic route. Then, if you think you can handle it, we can go hunting for pirates..."
Nyneve's eyes widened at the last part, as Ysolde had calculated. "You'll have to hold on tight if we do though." Ysolde flashed an almost wicked smile, plans forming. Nyneve grinned back, visibly excited.

Manufacturing thoughts & other things

I recently oversaw the production of, amongst other vessels, an Apocalypse-class battleship. Half automated robotics and half paid construction workers and engineers of all races and bloodlines. If it had been an Amarr station then out in Kor Azor those workers would have been slaves...

This is why I always buy from Minmatar or Gallente stations. And those Caldari stations I can confirm aren't making use of slave labour behind the scenes. OK so usually I end up having to pay over the odds for Amarr ships this way, but it is infinitely preferable to supporting slave labour.

In other more light-hearted news, I'm due to visit my cousin at RMS in Ammold this afetrnoon. I promised I'd bring one of my ships and let her poke around it. I might even take her flying.

Just too busy!

Trying to have a think about things. Important things, like where I'm going, where the corp is going, where the alliance is going and how to do what we want to do.

Identity and focus is lacking. There's always things going on but it's more independent actions rather than focused. The trick is to keep the balance for those that want to do their own thing.

Haven't had much opportunity to think over it though, just so much going on.

On a random note, I need a new hobby. Suggestions?