An icy-cold blast of snow and swirling winds greets the Jaguar as it enters the stratosphere of the planet on its way down to the landing zone below. The skies are dark and a deep shade of velvet blue, visibility is close to zero and the air is crisp. Searchlights rip through the murky skies with random movements.
The planet-side outpost is a haunt for capsuleers of all walks; pirates, drug smugglers, mercenaries, haulers, salvage teams and explorers all rubbing shoulders with ordinary citizens, petty thieves and workers. A stopping off point for those seeking some form of recuperation from inter-system space travel.
The reverse thrusters blaze through the soft snow that has settled on the landing pad. The snow that is now falling on the craft sizzles and melts in an instant as the powerful and loud hum of the engines slows to a gentle rumble and then a short period of silence falls upon the outpost. A pod transfer drone approaches the frigate hull and the pilot is removed from the ship to the warmth and sanctity of the inner chambers.
The Jaguar soon to be covered in a blanket of the falling snow as it cools under the darkness above is visible from the observation platform. A lone, old and battered Badger industrial workhorse, possibly loaded with illicit goods and supplies approaches the adjacent pad ready for landing as a small gang of workers and bots prepare to unload the goods onto waiting planetary vehicles.
Just a brief moment, now frozen in time.
MB.
12 Nov 2010
6 Nov 2010
Welcome to Bar Central
An angry looking old man of Sebiestor blood drunkenly props up the bar with his next glass of toxic spirits next to him, the deep yellowy-green liquid bubbling away like some kind of lab experiment. His night is not far from being over it seems. Head in his hands, subdued.
Two guards, decked out in black, strong build and mean looking stand rigid at the entrance, weapon systems at hand, ready for trouble. The race of the men is not clear to me. The gleam of the bright-white interior lighting reflects vividly off of their highly-polished black military issue boots. One could be fooled into thinking they are about to enter active service as opposed to guarding a space-station food hall by day and bar and dance hall by night.
The night is vibrant, a steady beat pumps into the air via the sound system and bodies move on the half-empty dance floor, the bright lights have now dimmed and beams of colour dart across the hall. Euphoria now replaces the downbeat existence for the many workers who are here this evening. Normal beings mingling with the god-like elite, the capsuleers.
In the far corner, away from the tangled bodies on the dance floor, a deal is struck between a shady looking narcotics dealer and an addicted crash user. Within seconds the dealer has left with his next pay packet and the junkie has his fix, soon to be wasted.
The music goes on and on, the beat quickening and the light show moving faster, the hall is filled with artificial smoke, reds and greys and blues making for a mesmerizing spectacle. The hall is now full to capacity and people wait outside for a pass, the guards are in for a busy evening, a drunken lout is removed amicably, the guard dusts himself down with his glove-clad hand, possibly pleased he didn't have to use any real force this time around.
Hired dancers move enthusiastically high above the floor, sending the masses below them into trance like states, the revellers are fuelled with energy that doesn't seem to have no end. Again, the beat quickens, arms point to the ceiling. A young looking man of the Gallente race is moving to the beat, in an absolute state of ecstasy, he is dressed in pink and has hair that defies gravity. Strange.
I finish my tour of the hall and wander down the corridors away from the hive of activity, the noise gently fading away behind me. I wonder to myself just who was watching me tonight as I watched all those others. That tough looking Brutor guy wandering around the hall like some kind of lost soul. I wonder.
MB.
Two guards, decked out in black, strong build and mean looking stand rigid at the entrance, weapon systems at hand, ready for trouble. The race of the men is not clear to me. The gleam of the bright-white interior lighting reflects vividly off of their highly-polished black military issue boots. One could be fooled into thinking they are about to enter active service as opposed to guarding a space-station food hall by day and bar and dance hall by night.
The night is vibrant, a steady beat pumps into the air via the sound system and bodies move on the half-empty dance floor, the bright lights have now dimmed and beams of colour dart across the hall. Euphoria now replaces the downbeat existence for the many workers who are here this evening. Normal beings mingling with the god-like elite, the capsuleers.
In the far corner, away from the tangled bodies on the dance floor, a deal is struck between a shady looking narcotics dealer and an addicted crash user. Within seconds the dealer has left with his next pay packet and the junkie has his fix, soon to be wasted.
The music goes on and on, the beat quickening and the light show moving faster, the hall is filled with artificial smoke, reds and greys and blues making for a mesmerizing spectacle. The hall is now full to capacity and people wait outside for a pass, the guards are in for a busy evening, a drunken lout is removed amicably, the guard dusts himself down with his glove-clad hand, possibly pleased he didn't have to use any real force this time around.
Hired dancers move enthusiastically high above the floor, sending the masses below them into trance like states, the revellers are fuelled with energy that doesn't seem to have no end. Again, the beat quickens, arms point to the ceiling. A young looking man of the Gallente race is moving to the beat, in an absolute state of ecstasy, he is dressed in pink and has hair that defies gravity. Strange.
I finish my tour of the hall and wander down the corridors away from the hive of activity, the noise gently fading away behind me. I wonder to myself just who was watching me tonight as I watched all those others. That tough looking Brutor guy wandering around the hall like some kind of lost soul. I wonder.
MB.
1 Nov 2010
Oops I Accidentally the Autocannons!
This little engagement with a Thorax was taking me a little longer than I expected and as I noticed more and more ships on scan (which subsequently paid no interest to the fight) I began to assign some serious overheating to the gun rooms.
Dramiel on scan! He best not warp in on me here! Come on heat, Thorax in deep armour, work it, come on.
85% Heat damage to autocannons, Thorax is going down, no more ships on scan, turn on the intercoolers!
PUKOOOOOO!
(Jets of cold liquid quickly cool the guns)
Or that was the plan.
TSSSFUZZZLEEPOPBANG!
DANGER! Autocannons dis-engaged. BURN OUT IMMINENT!
The Thorax exploded with literally the last volley of angry projectile fire.
EVE System > Channel changed to Egghelende Local Channel
YrruC > dude ransom?
Miura Bull > sure, sec
EVE System > Channel MOTD:Hello pilot!
Studies at several medical facilities in the Heimatar region have revealed that the first instance of pain during pod death is the extreme burning sensation you will experience as the wires in your head melt. The pain released through your teeth is not pleasant and will transfer to your new clone for 30 minutes after your death..
However, the good news is you may now pay a 'denture tax' and your pod will be released. Turn off all your guns and modules. Follow the instructions below and you will be set free upon payment. Have a nice day!
Miura Bull > 20 million ?
YrruC > fu*k it blast me, im poor
YrruC > lol
Miura Bull > actually do you mind self destructing instead?
YrruC > no
Miura Bull > no you don't mind or no you won't? :)
YrruC > pop me
Miura Bull > ok, here's the deal . . . you may go, good fight
YrruC > Cheers man, you smoked me
Fun times.
MB.
Dramiel on scan! He best not warp in on me here! Come on heat, Thorax in deep armour, work it, come on.
85% Heat damage to autocannons, Thorax is going down, no more ships on scan, turn on the intercoolers!
PUKOOOOOO!
(Jets of cold liquid quickly cool the guns)
Or that was the plan.
TSSSFUZZZLEEPOPBANG!
DANGER! Autocannons dis-engaged. BURN OUT IMMINENT!
The Thorax exploded with literally the last volley of angry projectile fire.
EVE System > Channel changed to Egghelende Local Channel
YrruC > dude ransom?
Miura Bull > sure, sec
EVE System > Channel MOTD:
Miura Bull > 20 million ?
YrruC > fu*k it blast me, im poor
YrruC > lol
Miura Bull > actually do you mind self destructing instead?
YrruC > no
Miura Bull > no you don't mind or no you won't? :)
YrruC > pop me
Miura Bull > ok, here's the deal . . . you may go, good fight
YrruC > Cheers man, you smoked me
Fun times.
MB.
31 Oct 2010
Projectile Playlist Part I
In response to this excellent post by Suleiman Shouaa, in which he offers up his playlist for his pvp habits, I hereby give to you my Projectile Playlist.
System Of A Down - ATWA I like to listen to this when stalking an unsuspecting pilot in the belts, usually I like to time the slamming of projectile fire against my prey about the 45 seconds mark.
Throw Away Your Television - Red Hot Chili Peppers The funky bass licks accompany an impromptu roam perfectly, bobbing around system after system hunting for quarry in typical Minmatar fashion.
Vampire Weekend - White Sky This is usually played when I'm in a relaxed mood. Maybe I've just made a kill and I'm scooping loot or heading back to base after a long roam. A great tune to unwind to.
Sigur Rós - Inní mér syngur vitleysyngur Love to pvp to this. Within me a madman sings. Appropriate to my fly style.
Bloc Party - Blue Light (Engineers Anti-Gravity Remix) This is a perfect tune to have on whilst on a long roam.
She Wants Revenge - Tear You Apart This usually gets played during Rifter duels, the title usually what I want to do to my enemy. Cool video too.
That's it for now. Watch out for part II sometime in the future.
MB.
System Of A Down - ATWA I like to listen to this when stalking an unsuspecting pilot in the belts, usually I like to time the slamming of projectile fire against my prey about the 45 seconds mark.
Throw Away Your Television - Red Hot Chili Peppers The funky bass licks accompany an impromptu roam perfectly, bobbing around system after system hunting for quarry in typical Minmatar fashion.
Vampire Weekend - White Sky This is usually played when I'm in a relaxed mood. Maybe I've just made a kill and I'm scooping loot or heading back to base after a long roam. A great tune to unwind to.
Sigur Rós - Inní mér syngur vitleysyngur Love to pvp to this. Within me a madman sings. Appropriate to my fly style.
Bloc Party - Blue Light (Engineers Anti-Gravity Remix) This is a perfect tune to have on whilst on a long roam.
She Wants Revenge - Tear You Apart This usually gets played during Rifter duels, the title usually what I want to do to my enemy. Cool video too.
That's it for now. Watch out for part II sometime in the future.
MB.
29 Oct 2010
Efficiency? What efficiency?
Looking over my killboard statistics it has dawned on me that at the beginning of my headlong fall into piracy that I am not really very efficient. I'm currently hovering around the 60% mark. I don't know if this would be termed as bad or average for a pilot my age? What I do know is that losing assault ships doesn't do your efficiency any good. I can't seem to stay away from the Jaguar hull though, it really does rock in the right engagement and is a ship I consider great fun to fly, even when losing in one you get the sense of a fun duel.
So, what's the plan now? Well, I'm just going to carry on as I am, maybe ensure I hop into the Rifter after every 'expensive' loss. I'm not going to fuss over it, I'm sure over time it will iron out and become more of a respectable rating but that's for another day and somebody else to worry about. I would however be keen to hear from other pilots on what they think about efficiency ratings and if they can remember what their experiences were of being 'efficient' in the early stages of their dark careers.
Now, ready me my Jaguar!!
MB.
So, what's the plan now? Well, I'm just going to carry on as I am, maybe ensure I hop into the Rifter after every 'expensive' loss. I'm not going to fuss over it, I'm sure over time it will iron out and become more of a respectable rating but that's for another day and somebody else to worry about. I would however be keen to hear from other pilots on what they think about efficiency ratings and if they can remember what their experiences were of being 'efficient' in the early stages of their dark careers.
Now, ready me my Jaguar!!
MB.
25 Oct 2010
Whiskey Eyes
The subtle red light above my head bounced off the wall across from me and dimly cast its warm glow on the mirrored wall opposite my bunk. The digital room timer read 05:14. Next to me lay an empty bottle of Thukker Fire whiskey that I had claimed from a recent trip into the Great Wildlands. The glass glistened ruby under the light. The room was filled with cold air, the sweat stained clothes on my back clung to my skin in an uncomfortable fashion.
I shut my eyes again to block out the thumping in my head. My implants twitched and I felt the need for a re-tune.
09:36
I woke with a jolt. The red night light in the room was now the working hours bright yellow issue and my eyes hurt. I fumbled around for my shades and out of sheer luck I managed to grab hold. I put them on and managed to pull myself from my slumber. My body ached and I muttered to myself no more liquor, for a few days at least.
The hangar was empty. I readied my Rifter and made my way over to pod immersion. As I walked past the huge window of the hangar I noticed nothing but emptiness out in the space lanes. In front of me lay days of border patrols and hunting. It was now time to pillage and burn, murder and lock horns with the Elite and also the unsuspecting kind.
As I exited the station I jammed open the warp drive and bolted into the distance.
MB.
I shut my eyes again to block out the thumping in my head. My implants twitched and I felt the need for a re-tune.
09:36
I woke with a jolt. The red night light in the room was now the working hours bright yellow issue and my eyes hurt. I fumbled around for my shades and out of sheer luck I managed to grab hold. I put them on and managed to pull myself from my slumber. My body ached and I muttered to myself no more liquor, for a few days at least.
The hangar was empty. I readied my Rifter and made my way over to pod immersion. As I walked past the huge window of the hangar I noticed nothing but emptiness out in the space lanes. In front of me lay days of border patrols and hunting. It was now time to pillage and burn, murder and lock horns with the Elite and also the unsuspecting kind.
As I exited the station I jammed open the warp drive and bolted into the distance.
MB.
23 Oct 2010
Jump Freighter Diverted (Holiday Cancellation)
As the title suggests . . . . . The planned base in null-sec has been postponed and the ships and equipment diverted to a low-sec system for future operations.
Apologies to the many gangs who would have benefited from ganking my little Rifter hulls with their mighty fleets.
MB.
Apologies to the many gangs who would have benefited from ganking my little Rifter hulls with their mighty fleets.
MB.
22 Oct 2010
The 0.0 Experiment
I had received news from my agent in Jita that all the modules, equipment, ammunition, food, drink, drugs (combat, as well as recreational, ahem) and ships were all loaded into the jump freighter and ready for the instructed destination. I started to get an uneasy feeling in the bottom of my stomach, swirling around like an unwanted intestinal invader.
Destination - Syndicate region.
"A den of thieves, scoundrels, bandits, black market dealers, gamblers, pimps and prostitutes. All in all, a nice place for a holiday"
- Unnamed Gallente Senator
Sounds just like my kind of place. The plan was simple and daunting at the same time. I had planned to jump-freight 34 ships into null security space under the cover of darkness and stealth.This was going to be a holiday of sorts, a step into the void that is null-sec or 0.0, whatever you prefer, it can be and will be a daunting arena for the rookie combat pilot. I plan to use the vacation to sharpen my teeth, so to speak.
The 34 ships I have decided to take are as follows. 25 Rifters, 5 Jaguars, 2 Wolfs and 2 Republic Fleet Firetails. I have 5 different fits ready to roll for the Rifters and the others are pretty much standard issue. I fully expect each and every ship to die in some kind of grizzly, explosive fireworks cocktail.
The system I plan to base out of has been chosen as a staging post for raids into Cloud Ring, Outer Ring, Fountain, Great Wildlands and beyond as well as roaming around Syndicate. I am not taking any expensive implants out with me as I do fully expect to see a lot of medical bays over the coming weeks and hopefully months depending on my survivability rate.
Speaking of survivability . . . What are the chances of success on this holiday?
Very slim to poor. To be honest my hopes and expectations fall on me roaming around like some kind of anti-hero picking off lone ratters in poorly equipped ships, loitering on gates waiting for industrials to rumble past and fun duels with other like-minded pilots. In reality what I can probably expect is lots of gangs and bubbles, blobs and chest beating. I find that the majority of 0.0 dwellers tend to have a fear of flying without some mates along side them to hold their hands.
I will be documenting my travels in this journal, each and every exploding spaceship will be recorded here, I hope to have you, my reader, along for the ride. Even if it is going to be quite a bumpy one.
I hope I'm the anti-hero during this experiment.
MB.
Destination - Syndicate region.
"A den of thieves, scoundrels, bandits, black market dealers, gamblers, pimps and prostitutes. All in all, a nice place for a holiday"
- Unnamed Gallente Senator
Sounds just like my kind of place. The plan was simple and daunting at the same time. I had planned to jump-freight 34 ships into null security space under the cover of darkness and stealth.This was going to be a holiday of sorts, a step into the void that is null-sec or 0.0, whatever you prefer, it can be and will be a daunting arena for the rookie combat pilot. I plan to use the vacation to sharpen my teeth, so to speak.
The 34 ships I have decided to take are as follows. 25 Rifters, 5 Jaguars, 2 Wolfs and 2 Republic Fleet Firetails. I have 5 different fits ready to roll for the Rifters and the others are pretty much standard issue. I fully expect each and every ship to die in some kind of grizzly, explosive fireworks cocktail.
The system I plan to base out of has been chosen as a staging post for raids into Cloud Ring, Outer Ring, Fountain, Great Wildlands and beyond as well as roaming around Syndicate. I am not taking any expensive implants out with me as I do fully expect to see a lot of medical bays over the coming weeks and hopefully months depending on my survivability rate.
Speaking of survivability . . . What are the chances of success on this holiday?
Very slim to poor. To be honest my hopes and expectations fall on me roaming around like some kind of anti-hero picking off lone ratters in poorly equipped ships, loitering on gates waiting for industrials to rumble past and fun duels with other like-minded pilots. In reality what I can probably expect is lots of gangs and bubbles, blobs and chest beating. I find that the majority of 0.0 dwellers tend to have a fear of flying without some mates along side them to hold their hands.
I will be documenting my travels in this journal, each and every exploding spaceship will be recorded here, I hope to have you, my reader, along for the ride. Even if it is going to be quite a bumpy one.
I hope I'm the anti-hero during this experiment.
MB.
21 Oct 2010
Wensley's Wasted Wednesday (Death In Their Garden)
I recently participated in a roam with a few friends of mine and it was nice to be in good company again. Sadly it was a roam which ended in the demise of our fleet. Still, you can't complain. We turned up in somebody's back garden, attempted to kick mud in their faces, scampered away over the fence and then went back for more when they were no doubt ready for us!
You can read about the roam here.
I logged back in today and made best speed for the quickest route out of null. Unfortunately I met a sticky end after being tackled by a Malediction and Dramiel. I got my pod away but then jumped into a nasty looking camp only a few jumps later. Game over.
I love these roams though and thoroughly enjoyed my evening and subsequent death the day after. New clone and teeth please.
MB.
You can read about the roam here.
I logged back in today and made best speed for the quickest route out of null. Unfortunately I met a sticky end after being tackled by a Malediction and Dramiel. I got my pod away but then jumped into a nasty looking camp only a few jumps later. Game over.
I love these roams though and thoroughly enjoyed my evening and subsequent death the day after. New clone and teeth please.
MB.
14 Oct 2010
New Ships Ahoy!
I recently took delivery of some new ships and fittings. Hard study has finally paid off and I am now able to patrol the space lanes in such wonderful new Rifter hull variations like the Jaguar and Wolf and also the fabled Republic Fleet Firetail.
Stay tuned, epic roams and adventures with these new hulls will appear here soon.
Yarr!
MB.
Stay tuned, epic roams and adventures with these new hulls will appear here soon.
Yarr!
MB.
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