One Lonely Sentry

Steky walked briskly into the briefing room aboard the Cascade Essence, a Nidhoggur class carrier. Her boots clanked against the metal deck as her assembled officers quickly rose to attention. She brushed an insubordinate lock of hair from her eyes and called out "As you were!" The fighter pilots, drone control officers, hanger controllers, and other deck officers sat back down in the leather seats and listened. They were no longer milk run carrier officers, and now had the discipline and bearing of soldiers with combat experience. The Cascade Essence had participated in Atlas' capital battle for HZF against Legion of Death, Pandemic Legion, and others. Not only had she survived the battle, taking down numerous enemy dreadnoughts, but they had proceeded to destroy dozens of enemy station towers in the Detorid region.

The briefing began. Atlas was seiging the last remaining enemy holdout in Deterid, the solar system designated 77S8-E. Steky went over the lessons from previous engagements, reminding the sentry drone officers not to deploy after coming out of warp at an enemy tower until the carrier was moving less than 20km per second. The navigation officers were to ensure that the ship maintained range with the enemy tower in case her attention was elsewhere. The pilot could control any subsystem at the speed of thought, but even so her attention had limited bandwidth.

Suddenly Steky stopped in mid word and then called out, "Battlestations!" The lights went red and the men and women scrambled. The Atlas fleet commander had ordered capitals to undock and jump to a cynosaural field in the 77S8 solar system. As the carrier left the station hangar, the space around the station was cluttered with dreadnoughts and carriers. It was a wonder that the station's traffic control system could manage.

Suddenly the fabric of space rippled as the capital ships engaged their jump drives and the stars winked out. Steky quickly shifted to a camera drone within the engine room. Looking the view from the external cams mid jump would be like trying to look out the back of your head, through eyes that weren't there. It lasted only a second or two, and then space was suddenly filled with the glowing rings of a giant gas planet and the shimmering light reflecting off the hulls of over 100 dreadnoughts hanging in space above the rings like an overturned box of jewelery.

The fleet warped to the first enemy tower and the crew ran the ship like a well oiled machine. The sentry drones deployed with their giant rifles hurling explosive warheads through the shields into the control tower. A few minutes later the fleet commander called for a carrier to light a cynosaural field so that more dreads could jump into system. Steky grimaced and acknowledged his request. It would mean that her carrier would be unable to move out of the cyno field for ten full minutes.

About 7 minutes later an enemy stealth bomber dropped out of warp amongst the capital fleet. Steky immediately started locking the tiny ship, but it took the computers what seemed an eternity to lock onto it. In that time the bomber deployed its bombs. The damage they did was insignificant to the capitals, but did enough damage to the sentry drones that three of them were unable to engage their propulsion systems. The enemy tower suddenly began burning ozone and went into reinforced mode. There was nothing more to be done until its ozone supply was depleted some hours later. As soon as her cynosaural field was down, the fleet warped to the next engagement. Steky engaged her warp drive just as two of the three damaged drones made it back to the hangar. One lonely sentry remained behind, its propulsion systems fragged beyond repair.

The Gray Waters of Morality

Grievance set his comm system to transmit queries on regular intervals to any other human ships that might have entered the unknown system through the same or other wormholes. The queries offered ISK to any pilot who could give the location of a wormhole out. After several weeks of fighting sleepers, their ragtag fleet was low on supplies.

Suddenly a transmission came through from a human Buzzard class craft. "Coordinates of a wormhole transmitting" Grievance entered them into the navigation computer and engaged the warp drive. They landed near a tiny wormhole that appeared near collapse just after the Buzzard disappeared through it. There was a distinct possibility that it would not support the mass of his ship, let alone the rest of their small fleet. Darkside's battleship would certainly not make it. Grievance had not only his own crew, but also the six thousand man crew of Darkside's ship to think about. He had to get out in order to guide a corp mate with a prober back to the wormhole to guide Dark's battleship out.

Grievance saw Voyk's Thorax and Daniel's pod drop out of warp next to the wormhole. He had anticipated the possibility of this scenario the moment he accepted the others to his fleet. The capsuleer parted the gray waters of morality and space with the knife of energy transmitted by his warp disruptor at Voyk's ship.

Voyk's Thorax met the challenge and burned towards him, his lasers flashing into the Rupture's shields. Grievance activated his autocannons and loosed his drones on the Thorax. Looking with concern as the shields dropped along with the range to the Thorax, Grievance was concerned that his long range barrage cannons would be able to track and pulsed his micro warpdrive. It was not needed as he could clearly see that the Thorax armor was melting much faster than his own, and he hadn't even activated his repper yet. "He transmitted a message to Voyk's pod emerging from the crumbling ship, "Safe journeys" knowing full well that only the capsuleer would awaken in a clone vat as his crew boiled and froze in the unknown space of a distant galaxy. Voyk transmitted, "Good flying" just before his pod burst under the autocannons. Daniel's pod was next, some men could never bring themselves to self destruct and face death even though they knew their clone would awaken once again. Death was death.

As debris floated around the Rupture and began to swirl around the event horizon of the tiny wormhole, Grievance transmitted to Darkside, "I will be back, God willing"

As his ship fell through the liquid watercolors and came out on the other side, Grievance watched his navigation computers with hope turned to acid as they reported, "Unknown Constellation. Unknown System. Uncharted Planets..."

The Unknown

Grievance almost lost his stomach as his ship came to rest. His navigation computer flashed "Unknown Solar System... Unknown Constellation... Uncharted Planet" Space rippled around him again as the other ships in their fleet arrived. Grievance warped to a planet and marked safe spots en route should he need a random point in space to escape from any threat. He then began scanning. Many anomalies showed up, and he called out to the fleet, "I have some kind of dead space installation on scan, shall we check it out?" Daniel and Voyk responded "Aye" and he warped the squad to the unknown installation.

As they dropped out of warp, Grievance saw an enormous installation with two frigate and two cruiser sized spacecraft of unknown type lying dead in space. He looked around and saw asteroids composed of valuable minerals in the vicinity. Suddenly, the unknown craft came to life, as if awakened from a long sleep. His ship was instantly locked and missile spat from tubes that were obviously launchers. Grievance immediately called "Battlestations!" and activated the Damage Control teams. He then selected a nearby planet and began alignment sequence. Only then did he lock the unknown craft with his targetting computer and activate his guns. A bright flash of plasma momentarily blinded his plasma gun as Daniel's ship exploded next to him.

A missile struck and Grievance watched as his shield fell to 55% from the single strike. Fortunately his autocannons were eating into the Sleeper's armor. Another missile hit their aft section, and shields collapsed. Damage control teams were already busy mitigating damage to the ship's armor and hull. A Sleeper frigate melted under his fire and Griev initiated warp to the nearby planet. Only by warping back several times was he able to destroy the sleepers and loot their wrecks of what appeared to be ancient databanks.

His cargohold full of artifacts retrieved from the Sleeper wrecks, Grievance called for Daniel's pod and Voyk's Thorax cruiser to head back to the wormhole. As they dropped out of warp, a fleet of battleships flashed onto his overview. Paying his tiny cruiser no mind, they entered the wormhole causing space to melt and splash like a pebble thrown into a pond. Suddenly it was as if a bubble burst and the wormhole was gone. Grievance called Cobra on the comm and asked his location,

"Oh, I am outside, I went back to station to get some supplies" replied Cobra cheerily.

Grievance's tone was flat, "The wormhole collapsed"

"Oh well, you are outside, aren't you?

"Inside" Grievance switched from the corporate comm to fleet. The corp might as well be in another galaxy, for in fact they were.

"Any of you have a probe launcher?" Grievance hoped that at least they might find another wormhole leading back to somewhere in New Eden. Both Darkside and Voyk responded negative.

"Then we are fucked!"

Liquid Watercolors

Grievance listened to his corp mates intercepting another automated hauler in Yong and rolled his eyes. Not worth even undocking. He turned his attention to the current events on the news comm. Anomalies were not only destroying planets, but seemed to be opening up wormholes to systems in distant galaxies. Some had gone through, and encountered strange and powerful technologies. Suddenly a transmission came in from Cobra Khan on the Maverick Navy channel, "Hey guys, I have a wormhole on scan... anyone want to come help me check it out?" Grievance raised his eyebrow, this was something new, something important. He engaged the transmitter, "This is Griev, 19 jumps out and on my way!"

Grievance engaged his warp drive to the vicinity of the wormhole. Several moments later, his Rupture dropped out of warp and he saw something that had not been seen by men in New Eden for thousands of years, when the Eve wormhole colapsed. This event sent his ancestores into the dark ages, destined to claw their way back up to the stars all over again the hard way.

"What do you think?" asked Cobra.

"Do you have any probes?"

"You bet, over one hundred"

"Well, then we should be able to find our way out... if the way out lasts long enough." Grievance thought about the possible mystery, wonder, and possible riches of being one of the first men in New Eden to explore a wormhole.

Two other ships from the local system joined their fleet, along with another corp mate Darkside.

Grievance opened the internal ship comms to his crew, "Whoever does not want to follow our ancestors into the unknown may take escape pods off the ship now and report back to corporate headquarters without repercussions." He watched the ship systems and not one pod activated. Grievance laughed, proud of his crew, "Alrighty then Mavs, Penis up!"

He set his ship on approach to the gravity well and the world turned to liquid watercolors.

Don't cry, its just your spaceship!

Shocku watched the emptiness of space through the lens of his camera drone. The Storm of Intent, a Tempest class battleship, hung motionless within the protective shield of the Control Tower just off a moon in the O-9 solar system of the Paragon Soul region of the galaxy. His ship was fully manned for station bashing operations, but a Goon fleet had been sighted in a nearby system so Shocku's fleet was regrouping.

Staring at the infinite reaches of mostly empty space around them, he suddenly zoomed in on a region of space near the shield. A Pilgrim class recon was dropping out of warp right at the edge. Shocku heard other pilots cursing over the neocom that the pilgrim managed to warp before they could do any significant damage. He pondered for a moment, then gave an order to the his edgy crew, "Load short range Quake ammo in all artillery guns!". The short range high damage ammo was seldom used as the ship was fit for sniping from range. Shocku carried a thousand rounds of Quake within the hold anyway in case he was engaged on a stargate while traveling.

Again the overview lit up as the Pilgrim descended out of warp a second time just outside the shields of the alliance station. The Fleet Commander called for tacklers and Shocku thought of his Minmatar slave girl and her Rifter. Unfortunately her duties had kept her in station in the TPAR system this night. Shocku cleared his mind and double checked the range settings programmed into his navigation computer. He initiated auto pilot instructions as his the support ships made short work of the Pilgrim. The lumbering Tempest seemed to almost groan as it fired thrusters and began to move to the edge of the shield. Soon the prow and the guns were outside the shimmering shields as thrusters kept the ship just on the edge.

As he had expected would happen, his overview suddenly lit up with a ball of red Goon ships just a few short kilometers from where his own battleship sat exposed outside the edge of the shield. This was what he had come for. The Fleet Commander called out primaries and neural commands flew at the speed of light from the implants in Shocku's skull to the gunnery centers aboard his ship. The guns went hot and the instant the targeting computers locked the enemy battleship, his tempest shuddered as 6 massive 1400mm rounds flew with incredible velocity from his ship to the enemy, shattering the elecrocrystalline barrier of its shields almost instantly. Shocku smiled at his decision only hours earlier to request Vince bring an additional gyrostabilizer. Now it made all the difference.His ship would rely on the station shield bubble rather than hardeners the gyro replaced.

Shocku saw multiple targets locking him as volley after volley of 1400mm artillery rounds pounded gaping holes in the enemy ship's armor. He grimaced in slight irritation as the Fleet Commander repeatedly queried the status of the enemy ship, and replied..

"Enemy armor 50%"...
"Enemy armor depleted, in structure..."

Shocku glanced at his own shields, which were holding strong despite at least half a dozen targets locking him on the overview.

"Enemy in deep structure..."

The aperture of his drone camera lens automatically contracted as the shattered enemy antimatter drive went critical and detonated, flashing dark space to white light. The Goon's pod was also quickly eliminated seconds later.

Chuckling, he looked through the local com logs for early comms from his victim taunting the alliance fleet commander. He copied the Goon pilot's own words and transmitted them to the clone facility where they would surely be read when the goon's clone was awakened, "Don't cry, its just your spaceship!"

Captured in Space

The news spread through the stations like wildfire, screams of joy rang out all about and as they did so did the pandemonium as thousands of slaves heard the news of their release from the oppression of the Amarrians.

Simploria looked to her friends, her jaw dropping as the news registered. "We are freed?" "Yes!! FREE!!!" They screamed and hugged each other tightly and danced and cheered. Then, suddenly, in the midst of their celebrations and reverie of imaginings of what is to come, the thought of the injections occurred to her, a spreading dread overcoming her as she sunk to her knees before her friends. "What to do? The shots!!!"

For years they have been injected as a form of control, with a virus that would be fatal if they were not continuously injected with antidote by their masters.

Though she was still in the very beginning of her training, Simplora and the other new slaves were injected with the virus early on and told what would happen to them if they did not comply or if they were to run away. It was the ultimate form of control and to ingrain the message into the new slave's heads, one unfortunate slave was taken from each of the new groups and subjected to the virus and denied the life-sustaining serum. Behind the glass partition, the new slaves were forced to watch their comrade die an unspeakable death, strapped to the bed screaming out in agony for days. It was unbearable and the new slaves found themselves praying for death to come swifty to their friend and for release... but it never did. It was a lesson they would never forget, one of many to come.

Quickly, they sprung to action and were running to the medical pod, their hearts pounding as they imagined the panic that would ensue when the thousands of slaves converged on the pod for vials of the precious antidote. Surprisingly, they were first to arrive and quickly scooped up as many boxes of vials as they could carry, running to the nearby ships and hurrying back and forth loading the cargo holds.

Soon, the rumble of thousands of slaves was upon them; Simplora and the others knew what would follow in the panic as sure as they knew that this station would no longer be safe. "Hurry!" her friends called out, as they each slammed the cargo holds closed, knowing what they had to do as there was no time and soon the clamoring, panicked hoard would be upon them fighting for the precious vials as well as for the few remaining ships.

Panic gripped Simplora as she only had a rudimentary understanding of how to fly the rifter, having only just started her training. Soon she managed to lift off with the coaching of her friends over the neocom, she trembled as the station disappeared beneath her, the constellations coming into view as she tried to get her bearings, not having taken the orienteering classes yet she soon found herself separated from her friends and hopelessly lost without direction.

The beginning of the journey proved to be a nightmare as she could not tell which stations had freed their slaves and which had not. She desperately did not wish to be enslaved again but needed to resupply and work for the ISK needed for food, fuels and supplies. As the days passed into weeks, Simplora was able to assimilate into the crowds and pick up small-time mission running contracts, learning as she went by constantly listening to those about her, the once foreign lingo becoming slowly more understandable as she progressed in her learning. When her shields failed and the monitor flashed its warning as the heat permeated the outer hull, she was able to afford her first upgrade. She had watched other pilots perform this countless times by now and was able to complete the job herself, she found herself almost dancing as she celebrated this small victory. She was on the road to being independent and was growing bolder in the contracts she accepted as well, earning more and more ISK with each success.

Learning to inject herself had been a challenge, but a must, and soon her thoughts were constantly revolving around the supply of antidote in the cargo hold. She found herself dreaming of the consequences of running out and when she sat in galley with the other mission runners she soaked in every piece of news about contracts involving courier services to medical facilities and tidbits of information about what might be transported without appearing too interested. After one night of hearing such news and the coordinates, she quickly set her autopilot and lifted off with hope in her heart that she might be able to secure additional supplies of the antidote, not considering at the time what the penalties might be for such an act. Nearing low-security space, her heart jumped as she orbited the gate several times. It was not her boldness but her desperation that fueled her now as she approached the gate and entered, quickly settling into course to dock, relief sweeping over her as she found herself remarkably in the right station she accepted the contract without further investigation and set course to the pickup location, driving deeper into the low-security zone, her mind focused on one thing and one thing only: getting the antidote and quickly disappearing into the solar system, if possible.

With the box loaded into cargo, she quickly left the station sure that she could find her way out she quickly became lost in the maze of stargates, warping from one dock to the next as she sought to hide herself as best she could from the other pilots and overseers the neocom startled her as it crackled, a voice on the other end identifying themselves and inquiring as to her course and why she had detoured from her destination, having missed a gate. Silence. She knew they were waiting for an answer, as her tongue became thick and her head reeled. A tracker! Of course! A tracker had been placed inside the cargo! How could she have thought such valuable cargo would be given over without tracking its progress as well as the pilot who held it. She covered her mouth and gasped scrambling for an explanation she silently cursed her stupidity as she explained she had become disoriented, glad that she had only missed one gate. The neocom once again cracked as the voice from the other side gave clear, concise instructions as to how she was to proceed and that she was indeed to proceed immediately. There was no question or query in the voice, but a steady and calm reserve that left her with no doubt that she could and would be destroyed at the push of a button. Quickly she set her course and followed directions to the letter, confirming her progress each step of the way as she found herself now hopeless approaching the dock to the destination station.

"You are first to pick up a marker from the jet can outside the dock," came the instructions over the neocom, "and then proceed immediately to station." Quickly, she approached the jet can as her ship connected briefly with it and picked up the marker through the hatch, her radar lit up with a quickly approaching ship behind her and she yelped as her screen flashed red as she was targeted. She slammed the button to dock and found herself inside the station where she spent a considerable amount of time after releasing her precious cargo, tears streaming down her face as she watched it disappear, even despite the fact that she received a hefty reward for her endeavor, she was hopeless. She tried to scan the surrounding area but was unable to do so within the confines of the station, she soon heard instructions that incoming ships needed her space and she must depart. Trying to steady herself, she readied to once again launch into the low-sector zone and try and sort her way back out to Concord space.

Her ship glided smoothly out of dock as she quickly scanned, breathing a sigh of relief as it seemed clear... on first glance. Approaching the first gate, her heart racing with the thought of her freedom before her once again for as long as her precious vials would last her, she set course but was quickly intercepted by a larger ship. Not knowing what to do, she proceeded on course as a demanding voice cracked the neocom, "You are to stop your ship immediately," came the instruction barking over the neo. She did not reply but acted in panic, engaging her afterburner and activating her shields as she attempted to activate the stargate before he could react. He was three steps in front of her as he enveloped her in the webifier and rendered her ship immobile. Again came the instruction, "You are being enslaved. You are to stop your ship immediately!" "NOOO," she screamed through the neo, setting her ship into warp as she tried in vain to escape, she cried out as she, for the very first time ever, engaged her weapons system on another ship. The first hit to her ship was shattering, as she felt it shake with the power of the strike, she returned fire over and over again, trying desperately to release herself from the hold he had on her. Again and again she failed.

Once again the voice, this time maddeningly calm, through the neocom, "You are instructed to stop your ship immediately. This is your last warning!" "NOO, I completed my mission! I'm done!" She screamed through the neocom as she tried everything she could think of to escape, firing over and over again, his voice angering her in its calmness as if he were merely toying with her! She fought with everything she had until the final blow came, her pod hurled out into space, she never even knew what hit her as she glided helplessly, towed in by his tractor beam, once again the voice in the neocom, calm, cool, maddening! "You are hereby enslaved. You will do what you are told. You will speak when spoken to. Am I clear?" "Yes, Master," came the programmed reply, her body shaking with fear, followed by anger and outrage! How could she have thought she could enter this zone and remain unscathed, she screamed in rage as she was helplessly towed into station.

Silence. She remained in station for what seemed an eternity. She cared not now what happened to the once-precious antidote. It mattered not to her now. Surely her life was over, at least as she knew it. Once again she would return to the mind-numbing hoard, blindly following orders and grinding out missions for her soon-to-be slave masters. The neocom in the station blazed to life, the voice of the woman who had assigned her the contract surprisingly enough, informing her that her new master's paperwork was on the desk and that she was to familiarize herself with it." Her mouth opened for a million questions as the neo once again went dead. Silence. She hurried over to the paperwork, her nimble fingers flipping through the pages as she encountered a photograph. She sucked her breath in as she beheld him, examining his features, as she found her slender finger reaching out and tracing his profile, the neocom startled her once again as she dropped the papers and hurried to gather them together as she, for the first time, heard his voice...

He told her she was his and that he would protect, guide and instruct her as he saw fit and that she was to obey in all ways. There was no question in his voice. As he spoke, she found herself drawn to the voice, her cheek pressed against the neocom as she listened to him wide eyed, wondering about him. The voice gave no indication to her that he would tolerate anything but absolute obedience. It was a self-assured voice and rich with confidence, and as he spoke she found herself coming to the realization that indeed she would serve him, unquestioningly and without reservation. Quietly she spoke the words, sure that he could not hear her, "my Master..." as he continued to tell her of her fate.

She was his.

Fleet Battle

Shocku queried the navigation computer for the 3rd time in as many seconds through his neural link to the ship's control systems. The cruiser class Rupture's was sitting within optimal range of the stargate, its projectile turrets were hot, combat drones deployed, and electronic warfare systems activated. The neocom was quiet, but Shocku knew that the other pilots in the fleet were in the same state of readiness. The scout had already signaled that the enemy fleet was in warp to the other side of the stargate.

Suddenly the gate flashed once, and the fleet knew that an enemy ship had come through and had a maximum 30 seconds of cloak time remaining. It was probably an enemy scout assessing the fleet. Within seconds the gate erupted in a strobe of flashes... the enemy was upon us and thought they could take us.

The navigation overview suddenly overflowed with targets as the enemy blob of ships materialized around us. Shocku listened as the Fleet Commander called out primary, secondary, and tertiary targets. He selected the primary, along with several other smaller ships that were close to his own. Two seconds later the primary target was locked and Shocku called out, "Point on Primary!" His electronic warfare systems were disrupting the target's warp engines so that it would not be able to disengage.

The cruiser's heads up display now showed target locks on two other cruisers within a few kilometers. Shocku instantly initiated an orbit around the closest target and activated his autocannons. The commands were issues to the gun commanders at the speed of light, their acknowledgments returning to him only after he saw the shields of the enemy fragmenting under his onslaught. Remembering his latest training in thermodynamics, Shock ordered the rate of fire increased beyond safe levels, knowing that the heat would damage the gunnery systems but that it could be contained if he was careful.

Suddenly overview indicated that an enemy battleship was targeting his cruiser. Shocku fought panic, remembering how earlier recon ships under his command had been blown to pieces seconds after being targeted. He had to remind himself that this was not a lightweight recon ship designed to avoid targeting, but a combat ship loaded with tungsten armor plating through which veins of adaptive nanites coursed. They flooded any breach and instantly hardened into new armor plating.

By the time his shield collapsed, Shocku has shifted his guns and EW systems to his fourth target. He kept a wary eye on his armor systems as they slowly turned red. Shocku locked the Drake and assigned all his cannons onto the Caldari ship. He then locked his navigation computer onto the first planet in the solar system and began aligning his ship towards it. If his armor systems began to fail, he would initiate the warp drive and disengage. Suddenly the Drake exploded into fragments under the combined fire of his fleet, and Shocku breathed a sigh of relief.

The battlefield was littered with wrecks, and he queried his engineer and crew commanders for damage reports. Shields were regenerating and armor was at 52%. 142 crewmembers were injured beyond capacity to do their jobs, and 19 had lost their lives due to accidents and catastrophic subsystem failures. 2 of them had gone out to the surface of the ship to repair a malfunctioning armor plate nanite system, and been swept off when the cruiser had turned abruptly to align its warp engines. Shocku saved off the list of families he would need to contact, the hardest part of his job.

Approaching the nearest wreck, his crew salvaged a number of tech level 2 components and specialized faction ammunition. There was enough value in salvage to pay for most of a new ship loadout. The battle had cost the enemy dearly, and hopefully demoralized them. If things continued to go so well, Shock hoped that eventually his corporation might claim sovereignty of these systems.

As the fleet began to reform, Shocku signaled the logistics pilot, "Armor Repair Needed!" Another pilot called out, "That was orgasmic!" and Shocku wished Vince could have been part of that battle.