So, I got home from work and logged on to howls of glee and a reassuring (although inaccurate) statement from 8agpuss
"We're not gatecamping by the way!"
Turns out they guys had happened across a member of Care Bear Stare in a thrasher, and had not only popped it, but also killed his corpse, along with alleged expensive implants.
Not wanting to even consider camping, I quickly got a fleet up, and in short order we put together a Falcon, a Claw, a Wof, 2 Ruptures, an Arbitrator, a Hurricane and a Drake. XXXXXXX also flew nearby in his cov-ops as an extra pair of eyes/prober if needed.
We quickly zipped down to Hasama, while Otto went into Mara cloaky to look into Blackdog's report of a hurricane in the top belt. He clearly had friends waiting in Dantumi, but we were confident we could kill it, so we prepared to jump in and attack. Unfortunately two members of Care Bear Stare chose that moment to investigate the 'cane, in a phobos and a cloaky-other-ship-that-we-didn't-see. Shocked
CBS then vanished back to Passari, and the Hurricane came out to play again, and despite having a myrm, stiletto and curse as backup waiting in Dantumi, warped off almost as soon as we landed in the belt.
Frustrated by this, we began the run up to Tama. We moved fairly quickly through the empty space lanes as far as Manjonakko, when I, a system ahead in my interceptor, spotted an Atron heading through the system. The fleet waited on the gate, and the larger of the ships (read: Ticks) popped the frigate in short order.
We pushed on into Tama after a brief chat with Arch Widowmaker in Asakai, and before long it seemed we were facing a mirror of the earlier situation in Mara. Otto found a red Hurricane in a belt.
Having already prepared ourselves for death or glory, I warped in and tackled the cane. Otto decloaked and jammed it and the rest of the fleet warped in to destroy it.
Except...
Just as the 'cane was going into half shields, a similarly red Vagabond and Zealot warped in. Deciding to keep DPS on the cane as it was moving very slowly do to our scrams and webs, I called the Vagabond as a secondary target, figuring it the easier of the two HACs to kill.
Otto had to warp out once the Vaga and Zealot moved out of his jam range and started pounding on him, and so missed the pretty lights when the Hurricane exploded. I too had to run around that point, as a couple of well-aimed shots from the Zealot stripped away my 400mm plate and left me trailing flames into the void.
As I landed at my warp-out spot and began the process to return, Ticks called point on the Vagabond, and as I landed, in fact before I could lock it, the Vaga bit the dust. The Zealot by this point had obviously grown a yellow streak, and was moving steadily away from us, so we looted the field, and destroyed the T2 wreck so that it couldn't be salvaged. Cos we're mean like that. Grrr.
As we explored a little further, Ticks, heading to a station to dock, encountered SBG Dose in his Stiletto, and his drones made short work of him.
We finished our patrol and headed back to our home in Ishomilken, discovering some interesting things along the way...
but that's a tale for Otto to tell.
Tonight was a night of excellent fleet discipline, even when things weren't so exciting, great teamwork and communication, and a fantastic do-or-die spirit that for me embodies what FLASHY RED is all about.
Fleet, I salute you.
JK
Saturday, 4 September 2010
Monday, 19 July 2010
"War will exist until that distant day when the conscientious objector enjoys the same reputation and prestige that the warrior does today.”
(Page 4 headline from "The Voice of The Republic")
TLF Pilots go AWOL after Amamake Op
by Our Correspondent
Tribal Liberation Force Commanders came under fire today as reports were leaked to this news organisation of the defection of a number of pod-pilots. The pilots apparently failed to regroup following the aborted assault on the Amarr controlled bases on Amamake III last week, and have been declared AWOL. A TLF spokesperson told The Voice: "It now appears that Squad 36 Alpha of the Strike Force failed to regroup with their squadron when ordered. The TLF has nothing further to add at this time."
This news could not come at a worse time for the TLF, who have already been criticised by some Senators for the use of press gang tactics to recruit pilots for the war. Senator Tarsem, leader of the Matari Defence Council, published a protest letter signed by 55 delegates condemning the use of forced conscription which called the use of convicts "an abhorrence", and comparing the TLF's tactics to those of the Amarrian slave hunters.
The identities of the AWOL pilots have not been released, however independent sources have suggested that they may have headed to Caldari space, fuelling speculations that they have defected.
TLF Pilots go AWOL after Amamake Op
by Our Correspondent
Tribal Liberation Force Commanders came under fire today as reports were leaked to this news organisation of the defection of a number of pod-pilots. The pilots apparently failed to regroup following the aborted assault on the Amarr controlled bases on Amamake III last week, and have been declared AWOL. A TLF spokesperson told The Voice: "It now appears that Squad 36 Alpha of the Strike Force failed to regroup with their squadron when ordered. The TLF has nothing further to add at this time."
This news could not come at a worse time for the TLF, who have already been criticised by some Senators for the use of press gang tactics to recruit pilots for the war. Senator Tarsem, leader of the Matari Defence Council, published a protest letter signed by 55 delegates condemning the use of forced conscription which called the use of convicts "an abhorrence", and comparing the TLF's tactics to those of the Amarrian slave hunters.
The identities of the AWOL pilots have not been released, however independent sources have suggested that they may have headed to Caldari space, fuelling speculations that they have defected.
Saturday, 3 April 2010
"In war, truth is the first casualty."
Excerpt from Jarek's journal - Date Unknown
It is dark. I no longer have any idea how long I have been here. It seems like only yesterday that we were removed from the Tribunal Office to this installation. We found ourselves part of a sorry bunch of men and women, heads bowed and shuffling, led through a maze of doctors and machinery that poked and prodded us without emotion. Individually and in groups, we had wires attached to various body parts, various images were played seemingly directly into our heads and a wide array of blood and tissue samples were taken by the army of white-coated scientists that surrounded us like insects feeding upon a rotting and bloated corpse.
Separated from the rest, I was hung from a huge contraption that resembled a gyroscope I once saw on the mantle of my uncle's house. The machine rotated and span until I could no longer retain consciousness, and my mind was flooded with inescapable dreams of death and carnage. I forgot everything. The faces of my loved ones seemed to fade before the gaze of my mind's eye, and eventually I could not even have correctly named myself had my very life depended on it.
I awoke strapped to a gurney in a long, brilliantly white corridor. My head was fixed in such a way that I could only partially see my surroundings, yet I was aware that far from being alone, I was surrounded by others fastened similarly. In time, a group of doctors approached and asked me a series of questions: Who was I? Where was I from? Questions that, as they were being asked, I was supremely confident of being able to answer seemed, as I formed my lips to respond, to require a monumental mental effort, as if the part of my mind that made me who I am had been submerged beneath layers of other, new information I had never had to access before. My reflexes were tested, and then finally I was given yet another series of injections that made me sleep once more.
And so I found myself in the darkness. For a long time I allowed myself to imagine that all the life I had lived so far had been an illusion, some bizarre hallucination of an unborn foetus suspended safely inside its mother's womb. The fluid that surrounded me was tepid, yet comforting, buoying my invisible limbs and flooding my throat. As time passed I began, blindly, to explore my body, discovering a complex network of wires and tubes that seemed at once both alien and yet completely natural. I understood intrinsically that these were as important to my survival as any organic part of my wrinkled and puckered form. A hard mesh fit snugly over my scalp, its wiry ends burrowing deeply into the broken skin of my head. A flash of panic briefly struck me as I realised that I was no longer actively breathing, bringing with it all the old tales my Grandmothers had told me as a child of creatures living beyond death. Horrible, twisted creatures that rose from the earth to feed, parasitically, upon the living. Was this to be my fate?
After the longest time, I woke again in the dark. A dry dark this time, my beleaguered body rested upon a most comfortable bed. My lungs ached from the renewed exertions of pumping air into my frame, and my entire system felt as though I had been beaten, badly, yet I found relief in the open and welcoming arms of sleep. My dreams were filled with complex images, and upon waking it seems that now I have a deeper understanding of my situation than before.
Soon the others will come to release me from the darkness.
Soon, ensconced in my life-preserving pod, I shall learn to control the fantastic craft that rage against our ancient oppressors.
Soon my existence will be filled with the light of a thousand thousand suns, and I shall join my kindred in the crucible of righteous WAR.
It is dark. I no longer have any idea how long I have been here. It seems like only yesterday that we were removed from the Tribunal Office to this installation. We found ourselves part of a sorry bunch of men and women, heads bowed and shuffling, led through a maze of doctors and machinery that poked and prodded us without emotion. Individually and in groups, we had wires attached to various body parts, various images were played seemingly directly into our heads and a wide array of blood and tissue samples were taken by the army of white-coated scientists that surrounded us like insects feeding upon a rotting and bloated corpse.
Separated from the rest, I was hung from a huge contraption that resembled a gyroscope I once saw on the mantle of my uncle's house. The machine rotated and span until I could no longer retain consciousness, and my mind was flooded with inescapable dreams of death and carnage. I forgot everything. The faces of my loved ones seemed to fade before the gaze of my mind's eye, and eventually I could not even have correctly named myself had my very life depended on it.
I awoke strapped to a gurney in a long, brilliantly white corridor. My head was fixed in such a way that I could only partially see my surroundings, yet I was aware that far from being alone, I was surrounded by others fastened similarly. In time, a group of doctors approached and asked me a series of questions: Who was I? Where was I from? Questions that, as they were being asked, I was supremely confident of being able to answer seemed, as I formed my lips to respond, to require a monumental mental effort, as if the part of my mind that made me who I am had been submerged beneath layers of other, new information I had never had to access before. My reflexes were tested, and then finally I was given yet another series of injections that made me sleep once more.
And so I found myself in the darkness. For a long time I allowed myself to imagine that all the life I had lived so far had been an illusion, some bizarre hallucination of an unborn foetus suspended safely inside its mother's womb. The fluid that surrounded me was tepid, yet comforting, buoying my invisible limbs and flooding my throat. As time passed I began, blindly, to explore my body, discovering a complex network of wires and tubes that seemed at once both alien and yet completely natural. I understood intrinsically that these were as important to my survival as any organic part of my wrinkled and puckered form. A hard mesh fit snugly over my scalp, its wiry ends burrowing deeply into the broken skin of my head. A flash of panic briefly struck me as I realised that I was no longer actively breathing, bringing with it all the old tales my Grandmothers had told me as a child of creatures living beyond death. Horrible, twisted creatures that rose from the earth to feed, parasitically, upon the living. Was this to be my fate?
After the longest time, I woke again in the dark. A dry dark this time, my beleaguered body rested upon a most comfortable bed. My lungs ached from the renewed exertions of pumping air into my frame, and my entire system felt as though I had been beaten, badly, yet I found relief in the open and welcoming arms of sleep. My dreams were filled with complex images, and upon waking it seems that now I have a deeper understanding of my situation than before.
Soon the others will come to release me from the darkness.
Soon, ensconced in my life-preserving pod, I shall learn to control the fantastic craft that rage against our ancient oppressors.
Soon my existence will be filled with the light of a thousand thousand suns, and I shall join my kindred in the crucible of righteous WAR.
Tuesday, 30 March 2010
"In justice is all virtues found in sum."
--- Republic Justice Deparment ---
Tribunal Report No. 685573
Tribunal Office: Dal IV M17
Presiding Justice: Grand Adjudicator Sarli Narjus
Accused: Jarek Kalensa
Prosecution: Brutor Tribe Security Officer #X38Ry
Charge: Petty larceny.
Judgement: Immediate Secondment to TLF (Tribal Liberation Force) for a period not less than 5 standard years. No possibility of discharge before this time.
---Minmatar Republic---
---Freedom at any price---
Tribunal Report No. 685573
Tribunal Office: Dal IV M17
Presiding Justice: Grand Adjudicator Sarli Narjus
Accused: Jarek Kalensa
Prosecution: Brutor Tribe Security Officer #X38Ry
Charge: Petty larceny.
Judgement: Immediate Secondment to TLF (Tribal Liberation Force) for a period not less than 5 standard years. No possibility of discharge before this time.
---Minmatar Republic---
---Freedom at any price---
“Adventure must start with running away from home”
Dearest sister,
Firstly, I must apologise for not having been in contact for so long. I feel dreadful that I was unable to speak to you or reassure you before my departure, but for the sake of security it had to be this way. It was imperative to me that you and our father would not suffer any reprisals from the Republic for my actions, and also that I would be able to establish myself in my new home safely. I have no doubt that you will judge me harshly for my actions, but first let me explain my decision:
All of my life I have dreamed of exploring the universe, of breaking free from the persecution and slavery that we were born into. One day, at the end of secondsummer last year, Kevorax and I found ourselves aimlessly wandering through the alleyways of the marketplace of Dal Prime. We had found an easy mark earlier in the day, and had relieved him of his bulging wallet, and having filled our bellies with his stolen ISK, were feeling pretty contented and carefree. Little did we know how our day was fated to end.
We were looking at the wares of an elderly silversmith, and I was browsing a selection of fine torques and necklaces, hoping to buy you a gift. Suddenly, we became aware of a disturbance outside the stall, and turning to see its cause, were horrified to see the grimacing face of our earlier victim, flanked by to officers of the security force, their scowling eyes hidden behind their tinted spectacles. We were quickly identified and arrested, and in no short amount of time, found ourselves imprisoned in a holding cell whilst charges were brought against us. I was terrified, but managed to maintain my composure, however Kevorax immediately broke down and began to sob uncontrollably. I attempted to console him, but he kept insisting through his tears that we were undoubtedly headed for the noose.
As must surely be obvious from this missive, we escaped that horrific fate, but the tale of our emancipation must wait, as I must leave in a few minutes to attend to my duties. Be assured that I am safe now, and in due time you will, i hope, come to understand and forgive the path that I have chosen to take. Please reassure our father that I am alive, and place an offering on my behalf at our mother's shrine.
I remain your loving brother,
Jarek
Firstly, I must apologise for not having been in contact for so long. I feel dreadful that I was unable to speak to you or reassure you before my departure, but for the sake of security it had to be this way. It was imperative to me that you and our father would not suffer any reprisals from the Republic for my actions, and also that I would be able to establish myself in my new home safely. I have no doubt that you will judge me harshly for my actions, but first let me explain my decision:
All of my life I have dreamed of exploring the universe, of breaking free from the persecution and slavery that we were born into. One day, at the end of secondsummer last year, Kevorax and I found ourselves aimlessly wandering through the alleyways of the marketplace of Dal Prime. We had found an easy mark earlier in the day, and had relieved him of his bulging wallet, and having filled our bellies with his stolen ISK, were feeling pretty contented and carefree. Little did we know how our day was fated to end.
We were looking at the wares of an elderly silversmith, and I was browsing a selection of fine torques and necklaces, hoping to buy you a gift. Suddenly, we became aware of a disturbance outside the stall, and turning to see its cause, were horrified to see the grimacing face of our earlier victim, flanked by to officers of the security force, their scowling eyes hidden behind their tinted spectacles. We were quickly identified and arrested, and in no short amount of time, found ourselves imprisoned in a holding cell whilst charges were brought against us. I was terrified, but managed to maintain my composure, however Kevorax immediately broke down and began to sob uncontrollably. I attempted to console him, but he kept insisting through his tears that we were undoubtedly headed for the noose.
As must surely be obvious from this missive, we escaped that horrific fate, but the tale of our emancipation must wait, as I must leave in a few minutes to attend to my duties. Be assured that I am safe now, and in due time you will, i hope, come to understand and forgive the path that I have chosen to take. Please reassure our father that I am alive, and place an offering on my behalf at our mother's shrine.
I remain your loving brother,
Jarek
Begin at the Beginning - A Pilot's Prayer
Labels: Fear PVP EVE Dune Jarek
LITANY AGAINST FEAR
I must not fear.
Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.
Only I will remain.
Bene Gesserit Litany Against Fear - From Frank Herbert's Dune Book Series
© 1965 and 1984 Frank Herbert
Published by Putnam Pub Group
ISBN: 0399128964
I must not fear.
Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.
Only I will remain.
Bene Gesserit Litany Against Fear - From Frank Herbert's Dune Book Series
© 1965 and 1984 Frank Herbert
Published by Putnam Pub Group
ISBN: 0399128964
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