15...
14...
13...
12...
As the number display in the elevator counted down towards my destination, I used the privacy of the cabin to unceremoniously slump against the back wall: it had been another long day of ferrying stuff between the stars, and taming capricious agents who by corporate rule didn’t bother with little details like industrials not exactly being the best ships to send out mining.
9...
8...
....7
A melodious *ding* announced the arrival at my destination, and I exited onto the quarters level of the Creodron Factory station in Ghesis. And this weren’t just the transient capsuleer quarters, No Sir! - the even more posh Guest Quarters it was! Plush carpet, original paintings at the wall, discreet security, an open bar at the corner - and this was just the hallway!
Good to see that the last weeks of endless missions had been good for something tangible.
Reaching the entrance to my actual quarters, I unlocked the door and triggered the opening mechanism - and stopped in the entrance. Where there should have been a dark and quiet room, I saw light and heard music. Pre-capsuleer instincts tried to draw a sidearm I no longer carried, while the post-capsuleer brain took inventory of the situation.
A wet towel on the floor, the computer display showing market graphs, Amarrian synth-punk on the sound system, and, hanging over the side of a high-backed chair, a pair of slender naked feet, bobbing with the beat. This meant....
“Hi Sis!” Eta’s red-haired head peeked over the back of said chair. “You live!”
“Of course I live!” Letting the door shut behind me, I entered the room, and slumped down on a couch. “Why shouldn’t I?”
Eta swiveled her chair to face me. “Well, rumor had it that you left our WH months ago, but nobody had seen you.”
“’s not true!”, I protested. “I am on comms every day!”
“You were,” admitted Eta, “or somebody sounding very much like you. But what _are_ you doing?”
I rubbed my eyes. “Earning standings, in case we need to anchor new hi-sec POSes. Plus, it's never a good idea to give Gallente itchy trigger fingers, undisciplined heathens they are."
Eta thought about that, then nodded. “Makes sense. Well, in that case I have something to cheer you up. Catch!”
She tossed a small object at me, which I managed to catch solely on account of my chest being square its trajectory. It was a credit chip.
Seeing my slightly puzzled look, she elaborated. “ISK. Your share from my Nanotransistors batch.”
“Your Nanotransistors... but I thought that batch finished two months ago?”
“I’m glad you ask!”, smiled Eta. “Remember my Fermionic Condensates batch?”
Oh, the Fermionic Condensates - who could forget! For days we walked carefully around Eta and avoided any mention of markets, reactions, or, for that matter, POSes. After losing a good 500M on that particular batch, she was even considering giving up reactions altogether; but eventually settled on just reducing her operation. By eliminating the fuel cost for one reaction POS, she was more or less able to compensate for the loss - or so she claimed.
"Well, after that debacle, I started a batch of Nanotransistors. But guess what!"
I had an inkling where this was going: "The market crashed?"
Eta nodded, "The market tanked - again! I would have been out another 200-300M."
"But obviously" - I held up the credit chip - "you aren't."
"Nope!", she beamed. "Thanks to the powers of Market competition."
That surprised me. "I thought you stayed away from it, on account of all the high-frequency trading."
"Well, true, but it was either that, or losing even more ISK. So I started some cheap low-yield reactions to tide me over, put up a couple of sell orders, and updated them once or twice a week. And lo and behold: the market recovered and I was able to make some profit after all."
"And now you'd like to be our official Mistress of Reactors _and_ Trading?", I couldn't resist teasing.
"Gods, no!" She shuddered. "Unless really necessary, I'll happily leave that up to the others who actually enjoy it. Speaking of which..."
She leaned forward, suddenly serious.
"When will you be back, and have some fun?"
Saturday, December 18, 2010
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Of Cats and Mice
The stargate was filling the field of my vision, hovering majestically against the background of stars. And if you looked closely, you could even see the two figures in spacesuits, as they duct taped down a strut which shook loose in the last activation. On the other side of the gate, the expanse of Minmatar lo-sec beckoned. Inside it, the wormhole back to our w-space system, bubbling away towards its collapse, and Lance in his Covert Ops.
“Lance, Status?”
“Still clear.” came the instant reply. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”
Ha! As if he had to ask!
What had been a quiet system an hour ago, with just one mission runner in it, had turned into a center of popularity right after we brought our goods through to hi-sec. With all people from the SILENT. alliance, one of them having his Drake named “Stargate (Ney)”, the intentions of the locals were clear, and we already had to abort our previous attempt of bringing the Orca back in. But suddenly, a few minutes ago, the lo-sec system emptied. Completely. And all SILENT. members vanished from the neighboring hi-sec system as well. Obvious, really.
On corp comms the sounds of a corp ice mining op happening in our home constellation, providing a background of normalcy, its participants too far away to render assistance.
And, in the back of my mind, teasing, a thought: We might just be able to make it.
“Screw it,” I announced as I initiated gate jump, “let’s do this.” Not the best line in history, nor the most coherent one, but the message came across.
“Copy that.” acknowledged Lance, “Warping to WH exit.”
My Orca emerged from the gate, and its mighty engines filled the ship with their sonorous hum as I directed the navigation systems to warp to our WH entrance.
Speed at 40% … 50% … 60% …
Local plus one! Plus two!
My Orca reached warp speed just in time for me to see a Drake land on the gate grid. Simultaneously, Lance cursed.
“Shit. A battlecruiser entered the wormhole just as I arrived.”
In my pod, I nodded solemnly.
“The game is up, and we lost. Go through and head back to the POS – I’ll follow when I can.”
“Aye aye, boss.”
With an unexpected calmness, I watched the distance to warp bubble collapse tick down, knowing that I’d emerge into certain doom. At the WH entrance, a Brutix was already waiting for me, laying down tackle before I managed to align even halfway to the next celestial. Warp core stabilizers, or ECM drones, might have been able to save me, but even then it would have been a close call – within seconds, two Drakes arrived on grid and put even more hurt on my ship.
“Nice.” Comms garbled from the WH interference, Lance still managed to sound almost admiring. “Two were already waiting here - the Orca would have never made it.”
Escape pods darted away from my Orca’s belly, taking the crew to safety, as my Orca’s structure rapidly ceased to exist. As I warped my pod back into CONCORDs protective arms, I complimented the attackers in Local for their well executed trap, my mistakes notwithstanding. The ensuing short, but surprisingly pleasant chat revealed just how much effort SILENT had put into this trap: they had scanned out our WH entrance right when we first showed up, and then placed multiple scouts in the neighboring systems.
All this effort, just for me? Awww - that’s worth losing a fully fitted and rigged Orca!
...on second thought, maybe not.
“Lance, Status?”
“Still clear.” came the instant reply. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”
Ha! As if he had to ask!
What had been a quiet system an hour ago, with just one mission runner in it, had turned into a center of popularity right after we brought our goods through to hi-sec. With all people from the SILENT. alliance, one of them having his Drake named “Stargate (Ney)”, the intentions of the locals were clear, and we already had to abort our previous attempt of bringing the Orca back in. But suddenly, a few minutes ago, the lo-sec system emptied. Completely. And all SILENT. members vanished from the neighboring hi-sec system as well. Obvious, really.
On corp comms the sounds of a corp ice mining op happening in our home constellation, providing a background of normalcy, its participants too far away to render assistance.
And, in the back of my mind, teasing, a thought: We might just be able to make it.
“Screw it,” I announced as I initiated gate jump, “let’s do this.” Not the best line in history, nor the most coherent one, but the message came across.
“Copy that.” acknowledged Lance, “Warping to WH exit.”
My Orca emerged from the gate, and its mighty engines filled the ship with their sonorous hum as I directed the navigation systems to warp to our WH entrance.
Speed at 40% … 50% … 60% …
Local plus one! Plus two!
My Orca reached warp speed just in time for me to see a Drake land on the gate grid. Simultaneously, Lance cursed.
“Shit. A battlecruiser entered the wormhole just as I arrived.”
In my pod, I nodded solemnly.
“The game is up, and we lost. Go through and head back to the POS – I’ll follow when I can.”
“Aye aye, boss.”
With an unexpected calmness, I watched the distance to warp bubble collapse tick down, knowing that I’d emerge into certain doom. At the WH entrance, a Brutix was already waiting for me, laying down tackle before I managed to align even halfway to the next celestial. Warp core stabilizers, or ECM drones, might have been able to save me, but even then it would have been a close call – within seconds, two Drakes arrived on grid and put even more hurt on my ship.
“Nice.” Comms garbled from the WH interference, Lance still managed to sound almost admiring. “Two were already waiting here - the Orca would have never made it.”
Escape pods darted away from my Orca’s belly, taking the crew to safety, as my Orca’s structure rapidly ceased to exist. As I warped my pod back into CONCORDs protective arms, I complimented the attackers in Local for their well executed trap, my mistakes notwithstanding. The ensuing short, but surprisingly pleasant chat revealed just how much effort SILENT had put into this trap: they had scanned out our WH entrance right when we first showed up, and then placed multiple scouts in the neighboring systems.
All this effort, just for me? Awww - that’s worth losing a fully fitted and rigged Orca!
...on second thought, maybe not.
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