Fresh Grazing

New pastures, the old ones have been over used, and now cast aside like a dirty whore. We seek fresh meat . . .

. . . I think we have found it. She grins ferally.

This new area has all the hallmarks of virgin territory, an active gate, belt ratters and mission runners. The foolish mortals we stalk have no idea of the carnage and bloodshed about to be unleashed upon them. We are here to wreak a whirlwind of blood and slaughter, to drink deep of the well of innocence, and after the move, we're all so very thirsty.

Although the move was necessary, I am going to have to cut down on the number of Battleships at the very least, if not the other ships as well. Luckily I was able to rely on the capital support of our armada, but I know that if I choose to leave, I will be less fortunate. 10 Battleships is a minimum of 9 jumps, depending on the class of the Battleship, it was probably a good thing thing I only took 10 in the end, despite taking all the heavy cruisers as well.

In the next 3 weeks however, the number of Heavy and Recon cruisers will likely double, or possibly treble. I have begun training the last stage of Amarrian cruiser class vessels. This, combined with my prior knowledge of Gallentean equivalents will enable me to begin tailoring these ships to my needs. Then I'm going to raise hell.

Crusade

I'd forgotten.

The speed and power is fantastic . . .

Utterly merciless . . .

Interceptors . . . such fun. I've recently been flying the Crusader, the sleek gold and red hull is beautiful, particularly when the light backwash from the weapons systems reflects off of its sleek contours.

More importantly, it is not just a pretty toy, it is more than able to hold its own in combat, even against the vaunted anti-interceptor that I enjoy flying, the Taranis!

Having taken down a Taranis and Crow solo, and a Malediction as part of a gang, as well as various frigates, I have to say I'm almost ashamed I haven't been flying ships of this calibre more. Admittedly, it is nigh on impossible to work around stations and gates, which is why I have been working with the Harbinger so much, but even so, I shouldn't have neglected such a fun part of my arsenal, depsite said arsenal now growing to more than 50 hulls.

I owe my immersement in this fast-paced style of combat to my ex-colleagues in Ghost Festival, before I joined their ranks it was rare that I flew such ships, preferring to operate out of Tech 2 Cruisers or heavier equivalents. Lately I have only flown ships that are below 50 million ISK at the outset, the funny thing is, I haven't lost any to date, and I have destroyed many times their value. Maybe there is a mesage in that, but I shall choose to ignore it for the moment, I fly what I like and if it costs me more to do so, I shall happily pay the cost.

During a lull in the combat, enforced by the presence of the Gallente and Caldari Factional Warfare fleets completing synchronised jumps, lighting up the EVE map, I got a chance to speak to an ex-CEO, namely Bashar Hardin. It seems that the modules on my Crusader are far from standard, I've opted for a close range, high damage setup as opposed to long range, high speed favoured by many pilots. However, Bash said that he had two, and used both the high speed version and an interesting variation by Mortis Tyrathlion, a good friend of mine, utilising low damage guns and a heavy armour tank. I may have to try out both these versions in the simulator, and see how they compare.

Until then I shall continue to wreak havoc amongst the local capsuleers.

Ascendance

I haven't recorded anything in a while, I felt maybe it was time. Several months have gone by and much has happened. The gap in my communiques was due to a variety of reasons which I don't feel are necessary to this record.

After a break down in communications I left Ghost Festival and contacted an old CEO who'd extended an invitation to me some time ago, suffice it to say he seemed more than happy to re-admit me to the ranks of Beyond Divinity Inc.

This is where I am now, roaming the spacelanes, destroying anything and everything in my path, free to act how I want to, not bound by petty restrictions and rules that denied me my true nature, that of a pirate. I am not trying to slander Ghost Festival by any means, as an idea, it is a worthy cause, and the ideals that the pilots adhere to are well-founded and have the ability to create a deadly adversary, however, the pilots, they are a different matter entirely. If they focussed less on internal point-scoring and more on honing their abilities they could become one of the top corporations in their area, but I digress.

Freed of the restrictions that Ghost Festival laid upon me I have been able to indulge my crueler side, creating a path of shattered wrecks and floating corpses. One of the advantages of joining an older corporation is the greater age and experience of the pilots, meaning that they have access to and fly a wide variety of vessels, ranging from Frigate and Destroyer hulls all the way through to mighty Battleship class vessels, and even beyond. It is nice to have the variety once more and pilots willing to fly alongside you in such ships.

Due to the new skillset I have trained recently I have been able to better understand much of the Amarrian technology and as such I have recently acquired a Harbinger class Amarrian Battlecruiser, and I have to say it is incredible. I have long wanted to fly Amarrian ships and after purchasing a few they have rapidly become primary vessels within my fleet. Their power and tacitacal flexibility is fantastic. One of the most enjoyable ships I own is a pirate hybrid cruiser. Colloquially known as a Phantasm, it is a blend of Caldari shield technology and Amarrian weapons systems. It combines beautifully to create a fearsome ship more than capable of engaging ships equal in size and exceeding its class. If Sansha was still alive and had the ability to create a Battlecruiser class equivalent I am sure I would never, or at the very least rarely, leave the vessel, such would be its power.

The other item that has vastly increased my enjoyment in flying with old allies is not only the constant fights we are in, as well as the re-established contact with old friends, but also the ability to converse freely with pilots should they seek to slander me or the corporation as a whole. Rather than maintaining a silence and seeming to accept the vicious, or in some cases pathetic, comments I have been able to return fire with barbs of my own. It is a shame that many pilots in this age are unable to correctly employ their brains and as such end up coming out with pathetically thought out statements that either don't make sense or are so ridiculous as to be laughable.

In closing, good times and good friends combined with a plethora of targets make for an excellent life.

Remembrance

Rath stared out into the hangar from the command deck of the Rattlesnake class hybrid battleship Siren of Decay. There was something to be said for torture. It yielded rather impressive results, this time at least. She snorted and turned away from the impressive array of ships towards the figure seated in the deep shadows.

"So tell me, what on earth was the reason for this, why did you do this?" she said with a voice that carried an undercurrent of incredible violence.

Isabelle's cracked lips struggled to form the words,"Ach- a . . test . . " she broke off, blood dripping from around her mouth.

"I've already said, numerous times in the past, to come directly to me if you found anything, you've helped increase the systems to a very efficient level, and then you pull this stunt, I should've shot you." Rath turned away, an ugly sneer on her face.

"I . . ach- foun . . things . . made no . . sense, so I . . ach-" she stopped talking, panting heavily, her face a grey ashen pallor.

"RAP!" bellowed Rath "Get in here and give her a shot, I want her story in full, I want her to remember everything."

Rapumtra manifested from the shadowed doorway carrying a rack of vials and a hypodermic needle gun. He bent over Isabelle and siwftly administered a dose to the side of her neck.

"She should be fine for a short while Boss, if any . . . irregularities occur, then you may lose her."

"So be it" Rath said her eyes flashing.

He nodded once and melted back into the inky blackness of the doorway.

A weak but steady voice spoke up "There were irregularities, things that didn't make sense, I was trying to work out what these were and their origin-"

Rath cut across her "You stupid fucking bitch! Have you never heard of personal configurations? I'm a pirate, outlawed under the laws put in place by the CONCORD Assembly and the Gallente Federation. The ships they create are configured certain ways, I chose to create my own configurations as they suit my purpose better. That's what you detected. I don't seriously believe I'm hearing this."

"Surely that's illegal though, not to mention highly dangerous and experimental . . ." Isabelle said quietly.

Rath just glared at her and spat one word, "Pirate!"

"So, tell me this then, after you shut down the first ship, why did you go on to do the exact same thing to the other 45 ships in my hangar, and why did you leave the Absolution? Out of all the ships."

Isabelle ingored the questions and began talking very rapidly, "My first thought was that it was a replicating virus in the early stages and that my shutting down the mainframes I'd disable it or at the very least retard its progress. I thought you'd picked it up when you entered the rogue drone complex, not the most recent one, when you were chasing another pilot." she trailed off, one of her pupils dilating oddly.

As she began twitching Rath swept from the room, not even bothering to look back as a dull thud came from where Isabelle had collapsed onto the floor.

"Rap, take out the trash please, it's cluttering up the place." she said quickly as she passed the dark doorway.

-------------------------------

Rath sat at the hangar command console, typing rapidly, watching the data scroll in a green blur before her eyes.

///DATA TRANSMISSION COMPLETE

///INITIAL FINDINGS: ALL RELEVANT DATA COLLATED - BEGINNING PRIMARY SWEEP

///PRIMARY SWEEP COMPLETE - ALL IRRELEVANT DATA PURGED: 406 FILES DESTROYED

///SECONDARY SWEEP INITIATED - PROCEED: Y/N ?

///SECONDARY SWEEP COMPLETE - ADDITIONAL 3 FILES DESTROYED

///BEGIN AUTOMATIC CONFIGURATION

///OVERRIDDEN: COMMAND AUTHORISATION - AH49IF6J3MN20YT7

///PASSWORD: ***************

///PASSWORD ACCEPTED: MANUAL CONFIGURATION AUTHORISED

///cmd: delete all data

///PURGING MAINFRAMES: STANDBY

///STANDBY

///REQUESTING NEW MAINFRAMES

Exsanguination

The steady drip, drip, drip reverberated through Isabelle's skull, pounding, echoing, non-relenting, drip, drip, drip. She was swimming in a fog of senselessness, failing to make sense of anything, the floor swirling beneath her, coming in and out of focus with equal ease.

She blacked out. Came back. Blacked out again. Came to, struggling upwards through layers on unconsciousness. Blacked out.

Liquid, being sprayed on her face, cold, refreshing, painful. She gasped, choked as it got in her mouth, spluttered. The stream stopped.

She hang, horizontal, coughing it all up. There was a click and she felt herself move, the movement made no sense to her mind, nothing did.

She blacked out.

Came to.

Blacked out.

"Wake up" a dim voice was heard through foggy layers.

"Wake up!" more insistent.

"WAKE UP!" punctuated with a sting of pain in her neck. She woke up.

She peered out through one eye, the other remained inactive, it didn't matter, made no sense, none of this did.

She could make out a blurry figure, tall and broad, standing in front of her.

"You've made someone angry" the figure rumbled.

"Personally I would've skinned you alive for what you did, but I guess she's more refined" footsteps shook the deck as the figure moved towards her. A hand gripped her neck, huge, too big to be normal, forced her head upwards, towards the too bright lights. A 'matarian face swam into focus, backlit by the stark lighting.

The huge head moved, bent her head so his lips brushed her ear "I'd count yourself lucky the boss is who she is, she's coming to see you now, you might enjoy her company better."

He let go of her neck as if she was something repulsive and headed towards the recessed doorway, silently deactivating the lights as he did.

He left the room silently, quickly, no longer needing to reveal his presence.

The docking chime sounded, she was coming back.

He moved swiftly and stood to attention as the golden hull came into the bay.

He could feel the ruby liquid sliding from the crook of his elbow down his arm, ever so slowly traversing the smooth skin. It reached his fingertip and hung there, as if waiting.

He watched silently as she approached, keeping his eyes locked dead ahead, betraying no emotion.

"She's waiting in there for you." He said stiffly. Isabelle's blood dropped from his finger and hit the deck, obliterating itself in the unforgiving grey metal.

Emergance

There was no doubt about it, she was coming back, but why now, what good could it possibly serve at this stage? It made no sense, least of all coming from her viewpoint. Of, there was the possibility it wasn't who he thought it was but the ship registry was correct, and the bio-analysis showed it to be the correct identity. She could've been cloned of course, but that was highly unlikely considering the length of time she'd been gone.

The golden hull came slowly into the docking bay, regally turning to present it's broadside towards the main docking hub. The docking platform slid out towards it with a pneumatic hiss. The door opened and she stepped forward, backlit by the internal lights.

"She's waiting in there for you." Rapumtra said stiffly, refusing to meet her gaze. There was a brief silence broken only by a single droplet sliding from his finger to the deck. The crash as it landed seemed to reverberate through the still hangar.

She reached out and touched him on the arm, "Thankyou, I know this isn't easy for you" she said quietly. She squared her shoulders and looked dead ahead at the portal where so much was yet to be decided, then marched through the gateway.

Sabotage

She was fuming, someone, or something had disabled the main computer system. From the inside, meaning someone had been into her inner sanctum.In here. Of all places.

"RAPUMTRA! Where the fuck are you?!?" she bellowed. He coalesced from behind a bulkhead.

"Standing guard as always Sir." he said levelly.

"How long have you been there?" struggling to control the anger in her voice, "this is wh-" he cut her off mid sentence.

"Since before the systems were shut down until you called my name, sorry to cut you off Sir." he said quickly in the same level tone.

Rath ran her fingers through her mane of wild hair, a calming motion. "Ok, then who did this and why in the hell did you bloody well let them?"

"Isabelle, Sir, you are acting rather irrationally if you'll permit me to say. Isabelle was completing routine maintenance on your orders." He said, allowing a modicum of concern to enter his voice.

"On my orders, my fucking orders . . . what the hell. I have not issued any orders of any sort regarding maintenace to anyone. Moreover, no-one, besides yourself is allowed within a twenty metre radius of the bridge entrance, let alone access to the command console." She collapsed into the chair and turned it away from him, bewildered and annoyed.

"Tell me why I shouldn't have you tossed out of the fucking airlock right now." She said softly.

"Well Sir," he shifted slightly, betraying his impatience slightly "one, the ship is physically incapable of undocking, two, I have the tablet with your authorisation that Isabelle gave me, and three, I'd hope you wouldn't want to, Sir."

A hand appeared from one side of the chair.

He placed the data tablet into it gently, fearing a violent reaction.

"This is incredible, voice, iris, DNA, full spread of prints, clever fucking bitch . . . where is she now, presumably in that Buzzard I bought her." she speculated aloud.

Rap however took it as a cue, "She's aboard the Amarr Navy Slicer, Sir she has also disabled every other ship in your hangar besides the Absolution class Command Ship."

"How long will this take to fix?" she almost snarled from the depths of the chair.

"Honestly Sir, I'm not 100% sure, we've never had anything like this at all. It could be hours, it may be days." He said thoughtfully.

"Get the crews rounded up right fucking now and get this sorted, or I will chuck you of the airlock!"

Rath came to her feet and stormed from the room almost knocking the 'matarian from his well placed feet.

((OOC: This is to explain why I may not be on for a while, yay for blogging, boo for windows. Also, not posted on the forums 'cos the College deems the whole lot, killboard, forums, even the portal as pornography . . . yeah, figure that one out. See you in space soon hopefully, good hunting o7))