Today feels like a good day, even if it doesn't look it.

Today the weather is classic Britain. Overcast, cold and windy. The only way it could be more British is if it was raining. But regardless of the view out of the window in front of me I feel rather in tune with myself. I really need to eat some proper fruit or vegetables soon, I can feel the lack of essential vitamins starting to get to me and if I'm not careful I'll end up getting very ill again.

Last night proved to me once again that I am actually loved, as sad as that sounds. xD
So I put a film queue on to fall asleep to and chatted with Emma for a bit to stave off the shitty feelings of boredom and lonliness and it worked I guess. Slept well at any rate. I think I may have passed out about three-quaters the way through How To Train Your Dragon.
I woke up this morning in a panic at about half 6, just as Full Metal Jacket was finishing. I think the gunfire woke me up.

4 weeks on Thursday and I leave for my holiday in Oz land. 4 weeks! I actually cannot wait. It's gonna be awesome! I'll get to chillax with my new family, hang out with Jess and get up to all manner of craziness.
As Altair Ibn la-Ahad would say... Bitchin'.

Aaanyhow, I should probably get on with some work about now. Sorry for the lack of images, there will be more next time.

I promise.

No really.

Cheers,
Aldur

He who dares.

Chapter 3: CCP owns EVE Online. I own my original characters.

Here it is. Chapter 3. Enjoy it. Number four will be following closely behind it.
NOTE: Reference image of the ship can be found at the bottom of the post. Thanks

The familiar snap and hiss of the respirator module in her Hazmat suit seemed to carry much more sinister intonation than Chief Engineer Rayna Nurada was used to as she crossed the airlock’s outer threshold. She could see two other suited crewmen following in her rear view monitor, the HUDs projected onto the faceplates played their faces in varying hues of blues, pinks and yellows. The Airlock’s warning siren pulsed once and hazard lights flashed bright yellow down the dark, metallic corridor they were in, each pulse reflecting back dimmer and dimmer down the passageway until it was pitch dark. Three sets of shoulder-mounted floodlights snapped on simultaneously and filled the length of the ten metre long corridor with dirty white/orange light.

 Rayna clicked her transmitter once and she saw the others look at her expectantly.

“We’re gonna move out to the end of this corridor and take a radiation sample. Nice and slow, Copy?” She said quietly but authoritatively. She did not need anyone going bat-shit on this delicate a salvage operation.
“Copy Rayna.” Came the cool reply from Marrke Esra, the designated computer systems Chief Technician and second-in-command of The Little Fish.
“Gotcha” Daltfur’s voice broke slightly as the word came out.
“Stay with me honey.” Rayna encouraged. Daltfur nodded, his face cast in a mask of terrified determination.

They clunked their way nosily down the narrow corridor and had just reached the junction when there was a rumbling shudder under their boots. The deck vibrated noticeably for a few more seconds.
“Radiation spike!” Rayna shouted through the radio, her voice crackling a little. “Check your shields.”

The deck stopped vibrating and the radiation levels stabilised well below acceptable levels. Rayna saw the two men give her the thumbs up and was just about to open a channel back to The Little Fish when the main lighting snapped on with a muffled whump. They killed their floodlights.

“Rayna to Captain Berhuvian. The ship woke up.”
“We noticed. We experienced nearly a G of movement out here.”
Rayna blinked.
“What’s going on over there? The ship is all lit up like a Christmas tree and I’m getting readings of erratic power surges in the major power plants.”
“We don’t know yet. It seems like the ship either detected our presence late or a crewman or drone tripped a mains breaker in engineering.”
“Well get this all squared away gang. The increased power signature is making it hard for our sensor dampeners to keep this place hidden.”
“Roger that. Permission to utilise non-lethal defences for the remainder of the mission?”
“Granted Rayna, hurry. Local just got 3 pods too crowded.” The comms channel disconnected.

Rayna motioned them over to her and a 3D cutaway of the ship was projected in front of them.  

“Right. Marrke, head to the bridge. It’s located here.” She pointed to the superstructure found just fore of the main engineering hull, extending out of the main hull before joining the secondary hull at a right angle. It glowed green when her finger touched it and the text “Main Bridge” Appeared next to it.
“The main transit elevator will take you to the corridor connecting the bridge to the ship.”
“Okay. I’ll get moving.” He said as he picked up his pack. “Keep in touch.” He tapped his helmet as he turned and flashed his cocky Gallentean smile at Rayna. She shook her head and waited until he had gone around a turn in the corridor. She transferred his comms channel to standby, so he could talk to her but he couldn't hear her speaking. Daltfur did the same.

“We’re going here.” She pointed to the main reactor and engine room which was swimming in scorching radiation. The room glowed orange with the main reactor highlighted in black. ‘Radiation critical’ appeared above it.

“There are already tools and repair equipment down there. All we have to do is plug the hole and vent the entire ship’s atmosphere to space and we should be good.” The hologram faded.

 They turned and headed down the brightly lit passageway in the same direction as Marrke and waited for the elevator to return.  The doors opened a few moments later and they stepped into the car. There was a soft ping as the doors closed and Daltfur felt his stomach rise in response to the rapid descent of the elevator.  The car changed direction, moving on a horizontal plane rather than vertical. The inertia stabilisers stopped them getting crushed against the walls but they hadn’t braced for the sudden change and they crashed into each other and fell.

“Would now be a good time to tell you I really don’t like lifts at all?” Daltfur asked before pulling himself off Rayna. She grinned at him as he helped her up.
“Hell, you’re scared of everything!”
“I am not!” He protested. Rayna just shook her head
There was a crackle over the radio before Marrke’s voice piped through.
“I’ve reached the bridge. Proceeding to take control of ship systems.”

“Copy Marrke. Drive plasma radiation is causing interference. We may lose you while we conduct our repairs.” Rayna replied. The was another burst of static.
“What about the boosters?”
“I’ll set them up Marrke,” Daltfur started, “But I can’t guarantee it’ll be enough.”
“Alright kid. Let’s do it.” Marrke disconnected.
 After checking each other’s suits for breaches they held onto the hand rails for the rest of the journey.

“Caution. Extreme levels of reactor plasma radiation detected. Access to engine room and main graviton plant not advised. Override is armed.” The computer played the warning in Caldari and Amarrian as well as Galactic Standard Language.
“Ready?” Reyna looked over at Daltfur as she clenched the override lever. He nodded, she pulled and their shields flared around them like miniature suns as the radiation flooded the elevator car.

Captain Tserrahan Berhuvian hit the transmit button so hard it nearly broke.
“Nurada!” He yelled, “Reglaasan!” He was answered by hissing and spluttering static.

The green and blue dots representing the two engineers aboard a holographic cutaway render of the Rokh had stopped moving at the entrance to main engineering and were flashing red indicating the computer had lost their transponder signals in the swamp of ionising radiation.
Tserrahan felt his ship move again, another impossible tremor resonating through the Rokh.
Some of the other crewmen glanced at the captain nervously.

Marrke was approaching the entrance to the bridge when he called down to Rayna.

“I’ve reached the bridge. Proceeding to take control of ship systems.” He said as he began working the emergency access hatch.
“Copy Marrke. Drive plasma radiation is causing interference. We may lose you while we conduct our repairs.” Rayna replied. The was another burst of static.
“What about the boosters?”
“I’ll set them up Marrke,” Daltfur’s voice buzzed slightly, “But I can’t guarantee it’ll be enough.”
“Alright kid. Let’s do it.” Marrke disconnected and closed a tiny circuit on the electrics board at the back of
the emergency access area. The bridge doors yawned open. Used to the cramped confines of the Thrasher-class destroyer he helped run, Marrke couldn’t help but stare at the cavernous space that was the main bridge. The entirety of the outer hull of the bridge was made of a transparent alloy that allowed for an amazing view of space and the starboard side of the vessel. Set back five feet from the transparent bulkheads were two rows of five pairs of consoles with a thoroughfare three feet wide between them. At each console terminal were highly reclined, wrap-around style seats for crew who were on the bridge at the time. They were reclined so far that the console interfaces were pointing slightly toward the deck. The captain’s chair and console was an integrated unit that was shaped a little like a giant egg. It was motorised to allow a 360 degree view of the bridge. This chair was built at a more conventional angle and had a holographic projector built into a slender, delicate looking arm that displayed a command interface for the captain to use to interact with the ship. The chair gleamed a sullen, fiery red in the glow of the surrounding space.
Marrke got to work unpacking his sophisticated computers to assist him in assuming control of the ship’s mainframes. He jacked into the command chair and the computer began the task of systematically rebuilding the control structure.

The lights flickered briefly on the bridge. He could see lights blinking on and off erratically down the length of the ship. A few did not come back on. He also noticed the temperature climb a few degrees. A sharp hissing snap from his comms unit made him jump. Marrke could make out words whispered just over the static.

“Thissss... Issss... My... Ssship!”

Starship history: The Catalyst

The Catalyst-class destroyer is a workhorse used primarily by Gallentean millitary forces in Navy operations through out the Federation and New Eden. The destroyers fielded by the various Navies of the New Eden cluster are generally percieved as effective anti-frigate warfare platforms. They are not very popular with capsuleers however.

The issue destroyers face is a large signature radius, almost the size of a cruiser, and frigate based defences. The large signature radius makes it easier for larger guns to track and hit the ship and missiles are likely to do more damage. This combined with their inability to mount heavy weapons and relatively poor defence capabilities mean destroyers don't often see use in capsuleer wars, apart from their Tech 2 incarnations: Interdictors.

The Catalyst itself is a potent blaster platform that is capable of getting in a frigate pilots face and overwhelming it's defences quickly and brutally, leaving no time for the pilot to call for backup or run before he's stranded in his escape pod. Destroyers can mount eight light weapons which is useful for engaging mulitple small targets like hostile drones or a pair of frigates but against anything larger than another destroyer it is unlikely to deal significant damage before it is destroyed by larger calibre weapons, against which, it cannot defend.

The Catalyst had a relativley trouble-free development with only one prototype vessel being destroyed during testing where a tear from a micrometeoroid developed into a fracture causing the outermost engine to break off under acceleration. The engine subsequently collided with the ship as it was attempting an emergency stop causing a massive explosion of unspent fuel and oxygen. Four crewmen out of the twenty aboard died in the accident.

After this incident, the progressive shield arrays were converted to more modern linear emmiters to eliminate the tiny "gaps" caused by progression pulses resonating at certain points on the shield bubble.

The Ion thrusters on most Gallente Navy Catalysts have recently undergone a massive overhaul as part of the destroyer upgrade scheme, costing the Gallente government mutiple billions of ISK. They produce significantly more thrust per ton than the last generation of thrusters and make the Catalyst fast and agile for it's size whilst retaining fuel and energy efficiency for weapons and shields.
Despite all of it's good combat qualities and millitaristic upgrades over the years, most capsuleers look on the Catalyst as well as other destroyers, with disdain. Most capsuleer operated Catalysts end up fitted with tractor beams and salvage modules to retreive valuable materials from the wrecks of other vessels. This task is now easily accomplished by ORE's new dedicated salvage vessel, the Noctis. 

The catalyst features eight high power slots for turrets. The vessel is specialised for blasters which are extremley powerful but very short-range turreted weapons. It has two medium power slots that allow for rudimentry electronic warfare or weaponry upgrades to be installed and three low power slots for basic defence and countermeasure modules. A basic Catalyst will cost just under a million ISK, but fitting it with top-of-the-range hardware will hurt your wallet.

Starship history: The Omen

The Omen class light cruiser is a new addition to the Imperial Navy. It is a medium-weight vessel, measuring in at a respectable 268 metres and with a mass of 11,650 metric tons; This ship is no doorstop.
The Omen was first proposed to the Amarr High Command nearly fifteen years ago but sidelined for nearly five years. It was deemed too weak for a cruiser and judged to be "Too independent to participate effectively in cruiser squadrons."
Imperial Navy commanders were looking forward to having a new multi-role ship to fill out the existing ranks of the stiff and inflexible cruiser groups and after four years of lobbying the Omen project was given the go-ahead and the first prototype chassis and hulls were built a year later


This ship caused a revolution in Amarr Navy battle doctrine. For the first time ever, ships were allowed full communication in battle and were able to receive updated orders on which targets to fire on. They were also given freedom of movement in the battlegrid. This also spurred the creation of logistics ships which assist friendly vessels that are taking severe damage.
In times gone by, Amarrian ship commanders had a docket of orders and a set of standard regulations which must be adhered to during every engagment, whether they were engaging pirate raiders or knocking down a space station. Eight cruisers screened every battleship and fifteen frigates formed a defensive perimeter of fifteen to thirty kilometers. If capital ships like Revelation-class dreadnoughts or Archon-class carriers were involved then there would be three battleships assigned to each vessel with the cruiser screens and frigate escorts.

Any deviation was met either with destruction of the ship in question and a dishonorable mark against the commander's house and family or immediate dismissal from the military and a public shaming of the commander's house. Recently, this tactic has made the Imperial Navy predictable to the point of impotency and many high ranking navy commanders have called for a change in procedure. The Omen was the beginning of this change.



When the first prototype was launched it was immediately put on rigorous space trials. And, as most first generation prototypes do, it showed up a serious flaw in the design. The flaw was so serious that the ship actually broke up during a turn. It was later shown that the armour plating was too heavy and the chassis had sheared in several locations leaving the vessel vulnerable to a breakup. The other prototypes had three layers of heavy armour removed and a layer of lighter ablative and refractive armour was installed to reduce mass to acceptable levels.

The ship performed like a dream and within five years it had passed all of it's space trials. The weapons testing went badly for two ships. The advanced cyclic capacitor banks that build up the power to fire the guns and massive heat-sinks that stop them overheating were designed and installed especially for the Omen-class. These upgrades managed to fail in spectacular fashion on O-522 and O-498.

O-522 was towed back to dock for scrapping after a bank of capacitors blew out the entire side of the ship. There were no survivors. Most died from the initial explosions, others died from exposure to vacuum and few died from the fire that blazed through the ship's internal structure at several thousand degrees.
All that was found of O-498 was the forward command superstructure and fire-control tower.

After the microleaks causing the problems were repaired on all other Omens, the upgrades worked perfectly.

Weaponry aboard the Omen is conservative but potently compensated for by fast cycle times and long range bonuses. The Omen sports five high power slots for heavy beam or pulse laser turret armaments. Three medium slots provide basic coverage for warp scramblers or target painters. five low slots allow for armour hardening and repair systems to be installed and increase the vessel's survivability under fire or to add special modules that further increase the range of the guns to turn the Omen into a long-ranger laser sniper. A drone bay was added as well to further increase the ship's adaptability.

The Omen is a relatively cheap ship to buy new, a modest 8 to 9 million ISK for the hull. And it is a tough vessel in a fight, it will not easily fall to enemy fire. If you are looking for a good all-rounder, then look no further.                

Starship history: The Tempest

The Tempest is a widely used vessel and a staple in any long-range fleet engagements. It's tough shields and resilient armour make this ship a valuable asset.

The mighty Tempest class Battleship has seen many alterations and refits since it's birth by fire. The first true dedicated Battleship design forwarded by the Minmatar Republic, at the time more commonly known as the Minmatar Rebel Alliance. It was quickly and quietly deployed en mass to repel the slave-hunting invasion of the Amarrians.

The Amarr Crusade Warfleet were extremely surprised and the High Command had no available response to the powerful and potent warship. The Amarr fell back under the onslaught of literally hundreds of thousands of massive 1400mm artillery shells. The first design was little more than a scaffolding structure with a boxy habitat section occupying the mid-section and an engine bolted to the back. Then guns and missile systems were added.

The power-sail arrays were fitted during the third refit, which also included the addition of uprated armour and a shield grid that rivaled those manufactured by Caldari engineers. The engineering and habitation decks were redesigned to provide more structural support and create a larger internal volume for subsystems. The fourth refit was launched two years ago, replacing the aging systems on the older models. This was seen as a necessary move by the Republic Feet as some of the original third refit Tempests were over 100 years old and still in service. 

The fourth refit is a  powerhouse. Sporting 8 high power slots with mounting points for 4 super-heavy missile launchers and 6 heavy turrets means this ship is never lacking in firepower. It also allows for a lot of pilot flexibility in loadouts.
5 medium slots allow for either shield upgrades, sensor boosters and warp scramblers to be fitted. The choice of low power slot modules can really make this ship reach out and touch people. There are 6 slots and they can be utilized to extend the already staggering range of the the guns to truly epic distances. Gyrostabilisers are a popular choice to equip on this ship as they increase the effective range massively.

Don't be fooled by it's fragile appearance, this ship can hit hard and gives no quarter to those unfortunate enough to be its pilot's target. The Fleet Issue and Tribal Issue Tempests feature even greater shield and armour upgrades, as well as an advanced power-sail system that can boost main power production by up to 50% in emergency but in normal operation provides main power to life-support and secondary computers.


A fourth refit Tempest Battleship would probably set you back a good 80 to 90 million ISK, just for the ship hull. The modules would add up to around the 130 million mark, but it is well worth the money to see Amarrians instinctively flee before it!

Starship history: The Drake

The Drake is one of the most popular and widely used Caldari starships in the New Eden cluster. Praised for it's heavy shield optimizations, ease of use and high damage output. 

The initial design for the Drake class Battlecruiser was submitted to the Caldari Navy High Command in
YC 094. YC stands for Yulai Convention, the years are counted from the year that CONCORD was formed. CONCORD are the peacekeepers of the spaceways and are made up of patrol ships built by all four spacefaring governments and manned by personnel from every corner of the galaxy.

The Drake was the first ship larger than a cruiser to rely exclusively on missiles. As such it was often maligned during trials for it's lack of ability to deal significant damage against small, fast targets like the frigates and fighters often manned by pirates and outlaws. During its initial weapons trials several prototypes were destroyed by missiles touching off through overheating in the launcher bays. This caused massive blowouts usually spanning several decks and often detonated the remainder of the missiles stored in the auto-loading system. The destruction of the ship was assured and the loss of all hands aboard was not uncommon. This has been fixed by running cryogenic coolant through the launchers.
Another prototype was destroyed by a malfunctioning shield upgrade that collapsed the shield bubble back into itself , crushing the ship and leaving it a twisted, shattered wreck with personnel trapped within.

Extensive research and development work was carried out on the remaining two prototype vessels. One was designed in an asymmetrical manner, to keep the tradition of Caldari starships being unique in shape and form. This idea was scrapped to make it easier to mass produce and to simplify the installation of different launcher hardpoints. This was an unpopular move, many saw the adoption of symmetrical starship hulls as conforming to galactic pressures but it later proved invaluable when converting the ships to interface with a capsuleer's command pod.

A quick overview of its performance in battle and in tests shows us that this vessel can hold it's own in a fight, even against mighty battleships, which are half-again as large. It has seven missile bays that can fire in 360 degree arcs, a spare high power module slot for anything the pilot chooses to equip, like an energy neutralizer.
6 medium power slots allow for almost unlimited customization and hardening of the ship's shield system, or to equip a plethora of electronic warfare and inhibitor systems like warp scramblers and sensor jammers. 4 low power slots allow for expansion on the already tough shields or power distribution system. and a 25m3 drone hanger was added to allow the pilot to deploy scout drones, small robots about the size of a large Transit van, to assist him or her in engaging smaller, more nimble targets like interceptors.



In it's twenty years of service, this ship and it's many forms are probably the most widely used in New Eden, after the humble Ibis class frigate. It will see action and reaction on battlefields for a long while and is likely to remain a staple workhorse in the Caldari Navy.

If this doesn't convince you to buy one, then perhaps this will. A Drake could be yours, fresh off the assembly line of Jita IV Moon 4 - Caldari Navy Assembly Plant for just 39,098,464.99 ISK. Order one with your nearest starship procurement broker and sail the skies with Gods...

Captain's log, Stardate: 64512.2

I'm back to make a new post. I can't say much of interest has occurred.
I've attributed my sleeping disruptions to stress-related insomnia, and it will pass with time. Or so I have been told.

I made peace with the girl who used to be my life and, all in all, I think it was a good move. I feel much better now there is very little hostility compared to last month or so. It's still like trying to get blood from a stone when we talk sometimes but hey, I expected as much. She only puts kisses when she wants something :)

Ah women... You are a mystery. If a man ever claims he knows a woman's mind then he is a fibber and will get ulcers on his tongue. I understand the fundamental workings of fictional starships more than I understand females and I'm not ashamed to admit that.

One of my fish died today as well so I'm a sad panda :( His name was Oscar and he was about 3 years old and he will be missed. Clive took control of his estate after he passed away. So on that sad bombshell... It's time to end. Goodnight.  

He who dares.

Hullo again. Take a look at this spaceship >

This is a Thrasher-class destroyer built by the Minmatar  Republic from EVE Online. It isn't a very big or particularly powerful vessel but it is the vessel I chose to use as the good guys ship. This story is centred around the crew of a Thrasher which is called: The Little Fish. If you look closely at the picture, you can see the solar panels on the flanks look a little bit like gills... Hence the name =]

Anyhow, let's start the story.



Chapter 1: CCP owns EVE Online, I own my Original Characters.

Waking up after a hefty blow to the head was never an enviable experience Daltfur Reglaasan mused, through the pain and blurriness, as he lay on the metal grating that passed for the deck aboard this vessel. He was flat on his back in a maintenance walkway of a privately held Thrasher class destroyer. A pretty face appeared above him, concerned and serious.

"Rayna?" He mumbled, his forehead throbbing excruciatingly. He would recognise the face of his mentor and fellow engineer even after waking from a 20 year coma. She smiled and laid a cooling hand on his head. Daltfur could hear and feel footsteps, falling in sync with the throbbing in his head, and sure enough the fuzzy white head of the Caldari doctor appeared next to Rayna's.

"Hmm... Looks like someone might have a bit of a concussion." The doctor said to Rayna.
Her soft Kahnid features made her look almost angelic to Daltfur in the dim yellow light of the passageway. The doctor helped Daltfur to his feet and held him steady as he staggered to a hover-stretcher. The medic started walking toward the infirmary and the stretcher followed him. Rayna clapped him on the shoulder as he walked past.


"Cheers Jerr." She said quietly before disappearing toward main engineering.

A short gurney ride later Daltfur was having molecular sutures to close the wound on his head. His pronounced, angular Civire features splotched with blood.

"Seriously Jerr, I was just making my usual run from the cargo hold to engineering," Daltfur said, looking up at the doctor. A bright surgical lamp was shining into his face, partially blinding him with its white light.

"I tripped over my own feet I think." He continued as the tiny medical assistance drone finished with the molecular stitches.
"A stupid lapse of concentration. Then I must have hit my head on a bulkhead support before Rayna found me." He sat up and felt the wound, or would have if there was a wound left to feel.

"Well apart from slight dizziness, which will pass, your're fine Mr Reglaasan." Jerr said, filling in a form on his console.
Daltfur looked at the timepiece on the wall; he had two and a half hours of his shift yet. He turned to leave.

"Thanks Doc." He said as the door whooshed shut behind him.

On the bridge of the ship, the captain was staring intently at a holographic projection of the system they were currently in. The XO was stood slightly behind him. Probe spheres were rotating as they scanned the system.


"GXG-5Y: what a shithole." The captain sighed. This was the fifth system he had entered today and there was still no luck with salvage, bounties or contraband smuggling.

"Sir!" a sensor operator piped up. "I'm picking up a stationary vessel from probe 3."
Captain Tserrahan Berhuvian, a rare individual in the fact that he is only 5 feet and 5 inches tall, weighs 43 Kilos and a Brutor Tribesman, became captain of the Little Fish nearly seven years ago. He Bought it from the dead previous owner's brother after being cast out of his family. His drunkard father was ashamed that Tserrahan was his son.

"Verify that, we know what stationary ships can do." The XO chipped in. Marrke Esra was the ships second-in-command, a Gallentean dissenter and friend of Tserrahan.

"The probe checks out and the reading is still there." The young man at Sensor Ops stated.

"Captain, we can warp to a safe spot to get a closer look?" The helmsman offered.

Tserrahan nodded.
"Do it, Konrad."


The panoramic windows of the bridge showed the perspective change as the ship banked to align with the warp tunnel forming ahead of it. Tserrahan liked the bridge being placed in an under-slung cupola as it gave an unobstructed view of the space around the ship. There was also an observation deck built into the cupola, behind the bridge, for this very reason however crew members that suffered from vertigo were usually absent from these areas. The Little Fish was pulled into the warp tunnel, distorting the panorama of space outside the windows. The inertial dampers kicked in with a thrum. Almost instantly the light-distorting properties of the warp tunnel dissipated and they were dropped from warp in the extreme upper atmosphere of a gas giant. A few gasps could be heard from a number of the bridge crew.


"We have arrived." The helmsman announced.

"Jerhan; status on the UFO." Marrke ordered sharply.

"Receiving telemetry from the probe, standby."

A few tense seconds passed before he spoke again.

"The vessel is adrift, looks like it has been disabled by unknown means. Its design is consistent with the Caldari Rokh-class battleship however there are some extensive hull modifications. There are several large wrecks in vicinity of the Rokh." The operator concluded, his voice betraying the awe he felt at discovering such a trove.


"Helm, take us to her." The captain said quietly. The helm controls bleeped as they were manipulated and the Little Fish jumped into warp again. She emerged from the tunnel to a horrific scene.
The hulk of the Rokh dominated the view. Her hull integrity was intact, however there several deep battle scars, a turret was shot from its mount and a long yet superficial gash ran along the starboard engine faring. There was an internal plasma leak filling the engineering and some living sections with lethal radiation. This ship had taken one hell of a beating. Around the Rokh were the hulks of several Raven class battleships, three Drake class battlecruisers and the gutted wreck of an Archangel Machariel battleship. One of the Ravens had been holed clean through with a round of a calibre of at least 850 millimetres.


"Life signs?" Tserrahan asked hoarsely, dumbstruck at the scale of destruction.

"None detected," Came the mute reply from the sensor station.

"Something is very wrong here..." Marrke muttered.

"Let's go to work." The captain clapped his hands. "Dock the Fish on the superstructure just aft of the fire-control tower."
...


Chapter 2: Chapter 2


Continues where Chapter 1 left off.
CCP owns EVE Online, I own my Original Characters

The Little Fish was an engineer's dream. Rapidly approaching its 90th year of operation, She was in constant need of loving care and attention to keep her in one piece. Daltfur was just finishing his recalibration of the engine plasma flow sensors when Rayna bounced up next to him.

"How's your head?" She asked, leaning toward him. The roar of the reactor and engine manifold from behind the main engineering bulkhead was still loud enough to necessitate shouting or being really close. On a ship with a crew of just 20 personnel the closeness factor wasn't an issue as everyone knew everyone; there was no room for awkward or dislike, but that didn't rule out some getting closer than others.
Daltfur took her hand and led her to a tiny observation room just outside engineering. He helped her down the ladder and they sat in the quiet, dust clouds nebulously tumbled outside the view port.

"My head's just fine, thanks." Daltfur said quietly. Rayna smiled, gripping his hand. Glancing into her deep brown eyes he recalled how he met her and ended up on the crew.


Just over a year ago, Daltfur was working as a starship engineer for a hauling corporation in low-sec space, servicing the corporation's industrials as they passed through the system. The station to which he was assigned was assaulted by an Archangel task force while the Little Fish was docked. Rayna was sprinting back to the Thrasher when a round from an orbiting Machariel punched through into the hanger. The deck collapsed through 3 stories of retail outlets beneath the main hangar killing nearly five thousand innocent civilians. Daltfur had seen Rayna running through the crowded thoroughfare, her dark chestnut hair flying out behind her, but away from the escape craft. He started to follow her, thinking she might need help, when the deck collapsed. He blacked out after hitting the foot of a fallen Mechanised Exoskeleton when the deck stopped falling.

He woke to the sound of a woman breathing heavily in pain nearby. He sat up quickly causing her to scream in panic. She settled fast, shooting him a plaintive yet accusatory look.

"I thought you were dead." She said over the din of warning announcements and shield impacts. She was beautiful; her rounded face held her soft features perfectly, her rouged lips tight as she held in the pain, her gently arched eyebrows bunched in a frown. Daltfur looked down and saw her ankle was broken, her small foot twisted at an odd angle.

"Nah," He shouted back, "I don't die!" He chuckled to himself. The girls on the station were nothing compared to the beautiful yet injured woman he was now stuck with as the installation was slowly blasted to pieces by the marauding Archangels.

"I'm Daltfur Reglaasan." He introduced himself, reaching toward her face.
"Rayna, Rayna Nurada" She replied as he gently pushed her hair out of her face. She didn't flinch.
"I contacted my ship." She shouted, looking desperately around the hanger as the lights dimmed and flickered. Daltfur took her hand and she gripped his back tightly.
"They should be..." The rest of her sentence was cut off as a Thrasher class destroyer flared, braking thrusters firing, and came to rest not ten meters away from them, roaring deafeningly.
The hanger lighting ceased as the stations power plant was finally blown to pieces and pitch darkness fell for a few seconds before searchlights on the hull of the Thrasher lit up the immediate surroundings. A hatch on the command cupola opened and three armed men ran down the gantry and approached Rayna.

"Help me up!" She shouted to Daltfur. He complied, slowly helping her up onto her good foot and supporting her damaged one.
Less than a minute and some fast talking later and they were aboard the ship. A bank of consoles ran the curved circumference of the semi-circular bridge, holo-monitors projected onto the panoramic bridge windows. The navigator and helmsman were positioned front and centre with the captain's wrap-around style command interface console and the first officer's console in the middle of the room. There wasn't much room left when the bridge was fully staffed. An old Caldari doctor entered from the elevator at the rear of the bridge and beckoned to the group of armed men holding them.
Three minutes of slow progress through the cramped corridors later they eventually reached the sickbay. Rayna limped to a bed and lay on it, instantly losing consciousness. Daltfur was ordered to a bed on the opposite end of the sickbay and as soon as his head hit the biocusion his vision blacked out.


A day later he was escorted to the ready room to speak with the captain.

Captain Berhuvian stared at him intently.
"Our chief engineer will be fine," he started, "however my ship now has a stranger aboard and this causes all kinds of potential security risks." He sighed, clasping his hands on the desk.
Daltfur gulped.
"I'm an engineer," he said quickly, "not much experience working with combat vessels."
"What do you have experience in?" The captain asked, eyes narrowing.
"Industrials and freighters." He replied, looking away from the Minmatar captain.
"Big ships." Berhuvian stated, warming to the boy's honesty.
"I'm assigning you to Rayna's engineering detail, report to her at oh-nine hundred tomorrow." Berhuvian stood to shake hands with Daltfur. They shook firmly.
"This is your chance to thank us for pulling you out of the fire, don't let me down."
"You won't be disappointed sir!" Daltfur saluted.
"Oh one last thing, don't call me sir and don't salute me for the love of all things holy."
Daltfur had left quickly.


He shook his head, dislodging the memory. Rayna was gazing out of the viewport at the massive warship they were approaching.

"That is one mother-humping piece of kit." She whispered in awe.

"Yeah," Daltfur agreed, mesmerised by the rows of navigation lights blinking forlornly along the kilometre long vessel, "Scuttlebutt says we get to work on her too."

"I can't wait!" She exclaimed, grabbing Daltfur in an embrace. "Canteen?" She suggested after releasing him. He nodded and they clambered up the ladder.


"This isn't possible!" Marrke stated flatly as the holo-cutaway scan slowly rotated in the centre of the ready room behind the bridge. The Little Fish was resting on the hull of the Rokh, powered down as much as possible and projecting a sensor dampener over the complex to reduce chances of detection from other prospecting ships.

"Clearly it is," the captain replied. The extent of the modifications had not been as obvious from the outside but the penetrating scans had revealed that all was not as it seemed.
The ship they were resting on looked like a Rokh but inside she was a completely revolutionary vessel. Inside her was a modified pair of spinal mounted 1000 millimetre rail-guns for use on capital ships, one on top of the other. Along with the standard eight 425 millimetre rail-gun mounts there were eight more 350 millimetre guns in recessed and concealed mounts along the flanks. Her auxiliary power core was in the superstructure they were docked on which provided direct injection power for the shields. Theoretically her shielding power exceeded even that of a carrier in triage mode and the theoretical recharge rate was so fast that it could overtake any shield boosting module yet invented. There was a second, larger generator that sat in the forward ventral hull section under the guns to power them and the smaller guns. There was a Titan class sensor array at the extreme forward of the upper hull section, its lights blinking and sensor dishes spinning. The plasma leak was from a fractured engine reactor fuel line and that was first on the repair list.


"How does this exist?" Marrke asked in shocked awe. Captain Tserrahan was equally dumbfounded

"What is it doing here?" He asked.

"Whose is it?" was the proverbial bucket-of-cold-water from Rayna. She was just as amazed at the level of engineering required to fit that much firepower into the ship but as a woman, she tended not to swoon at the sight of massive guns.


"Obviously it is a Caldari war machine..." Marrke began before he was cut off by the captain.

"Not so obvious, Marrke." He stated "Find one Caldari State insignia on the ship."
Marrke looked around the holo frantically.

"There aren't any." Rayna surmised, the captain tricked Marrke like that all the time. Tserrahan snorted with suppressed mirth.
"Nope, not a single one." He pressed a button and the internal components lined up next to each other.
"The Archangel wreck rules them out, and if you noticed, the Ravens and Drakes out there are Caldari Navy warships."
The captain looked at his first officer and chief engineer and could see the trepidation in their eyes as they contemplated the last possibility.

Capsuleers

Aldur vale's Biography

This is Aldur. He is my main character on an online game called EVE. This game has a very immersive background history and a huge bank of literary work of chronicles to it's credit. To this effect, I thought it only right that I create a history for my characters, starting with Aldur.

So without any further ado; here is Aldur's history. Enjoy.

Biography excerpt taken from GalNet Neocom database:
Aldur vale was not born to a rich family. His mother and father toiled for many years before they could afford the luxury Condo they now own. Following his father’s tradition, Aldur signed up for the military as soon as he was old enough and served a eight year tour in space.

Soon after he left the Navy he was made a captain and given a shiny new Ibis class frigate. Nothing like the big cruisers and battleships he had served on in the Navy. In time he gained his fortunes and bought bigger and better. Always forwarding any spare ISK to his parents, he never forgets them. Almost a year ago, he was making a standard run between stations for an agent in Silen, he saw Akara for the first time and was enraptured by her. He defended her from a deranged man. They fell in love and are inseparable even to this day.

Here follows a more detailed biographical analysis:

The young boy scrambled through the packed street, forcing his way through the crowd, eager to find a good vantage point. He squeezed his way between two burly men who grumbled menacingly as he scampered on.
“Aldur!?” He heard someone shout his name. He looked up to where the shout came from to see one of his classmates standing on the roof garden of a two storey mid-luxury hab-module waving at him.
“Hi Muril, can’t talk now really, they’ll be here any moment and I won’t be able to see them.” He had to half shout so his squeaky voice could be heard over the ambient din.
“Wait there!” She commanded. Aldur hopped from one leg to another impatiently.

“Mother?” Muril turned to her mother who was adjusting the polarised parasol she was carrying.  “Can Aldur come up to watch? He can’t see from where he is and I’m sure he won’t want to miss it.”
“Who is he dear?” She asked absently as she twisted the dial on the shaft to reduce the amount of sun that came through the membrane.
“He goes to the same school as me.” She supplied.
“I suppose he can come up then. See him in.”
Muril, excited, ran over the edge.
“Aldur!” He looked up again, desperate.
“Come to the door, I’ll let you in.”

Aldur ran to the door which was sealed and glowing a faint red colour. A few seconds passed and there was a quiet ping, the doors’ tint turned from red to green and it slid open to reveal Muril who stood aside. He stepped over the threshold and was greeted by a waft of delicately fragranced air from the hidden air conditioners.
“Thanks.” He grinned before taking off his shoes
“It’s OK. Quick they’re coming!” She led him up the stairs.

They stood on the roof for a further five minutes before Aldur pointed excitedly at the horizon: A dot, distant and tiny but rapidly gaining size and definition. Cheers erupted from the crowd, but deafening as the screams and yelling was, the noise coming from the squadron of fighters drowned them to nought but whispers.

Time seemed to slow down for Aldur. The roar of the Dragonfly fighters encompassed him and heightened his senses. He watched the sunlight glinting off their silver skins, counted the missiles carried in the under slung racks and was delighted by the Caldari State emblem proudly displayed on the underside. Muril screamed and jumped up and down, the wash of the now retreating fighter craft causing her straight blonde hair to fly about wildly. Two navy Condors followed, streaking overhead and performing a few aerobatics for the crowd   

A carrier was visible just below the cloud level. It had been carefully manoeuvred into the atmosphere so as not to damage the ship or the planet and to awe the crowds below. The fighters could be seen orbiting the mile long vessel as occasional flashes of reflected sunlight. Today’s celebrations were in recognition of the squadron leader and the other fighter pilots that hailed from this planet, this very city. The squadron leader was a Caldari named Falkreas who was a hero to many in the city and his right-hand man, who had on occasion, taken command of the squadron during difficult missions was non-other than Torak vale. He was to stand down as a Navy pilot after 23 years during today’s praising speech.
Muril was gazing at Aldur.

“That was awesome!” She said, breathless.
“Yeah it was. Did you see my dad’s fighter?” Aldur asked eagerly, being just ten he enjoyed reminding people just who his dad was.
“Yeah, it looked great.” She confirmed.

“I guess I had better go.” Aldur said, shielding his eyes from the sun.
“Ok.” Muril agreed. She walked with him to the door.
“Bye Mrs Haikaken!” Aldur shouted. There was a muffled goodbye from upstairs.
“See you at school tomorrow.” She said. 
“Yep, see you.” Aldur replied.

 He headed to the main square, a journey taking ten minutes because of the crowd.
Upon reaching the square he saw a blocky troop transport descend some distance away. The wall of a tall building had been used to support a large, high-definition display. He stood, staring up at the display as his father delivered his retirement from active duty speech, awed into silence. The celebrations ended with the carrier swooping in as low as twenty-five kilometres to buzz the population. Aldur screamed as loud as everyone else, determined in his mind that he was going to join the Caldari Navy, just like his dad.

8 Years Later
Aldur grew up, strong and proud. Beholden to no-one but his parents and, unwavering from his lifetime goal, he excelled at every area. Exam results were exemplary, physical performance was perfect and he was ahead of the class academically.  His mother was proud to call him her son, even if she disapproved of what he was working toward. His father was very pleased at how he had turned out. He was polite and deferential but could become very cocky and commanding when the situation he found himself in called for it.

The final bell rang as Aldur was bounding down the steps outside the college. It was a noble institution; the State War Academy Prep was a time-honoured and traditional way of gaining entry to the Caldari Navy. He lounged idly on a nearby tree, the sunlight dappling through the leaves as he waited for his girlfriend to finish up. She appeared at the main door and, seeing Aldur leaning against the tree, ran down the steps to meet him. Catching her in an embrace, Aldur kissed her and pushed her blonde hair out of her face.

“How did it go, Muril?” He asked. Muril had taken different exams to him.
“Yeah, I think I did Ok.” She responded, kissing him back.

Aldur took her hand and they walked together to Aldur’s car. Getting in, the car lifted off the ground and sped off toward the accommodation complex.

A few hours later as they were relaxing in the accommodation they shared there was a ping from the Neocom terminal.
Immediately tensing, they both approached the computer terminal apprehensively. Exam results were usually delivered within two hours thanks to computers taking over as marksmen.
Aldur opened his mail and read it. A huge grin lit up his face as he read pass after pass.
“Yeah!” He yelled, ecstatic.

Muril opened hers and she suddenly started crying. Aldur read over her results; Advanced Astrophysics: Pass, Physical: Pass, Cognitive Awareness: Pass, the list continued. Aldur picked her up and cuddled her as she wept her happy, overwhelmed tears.

“We did it baby,” He whispered, “We did it!” She clutched his shirt.
 Another ping came from their terminal and Aldur extricated himself to see what it was.

To: Aldur vale
From: Caldari Navy High Command Recruitment Liaison
Subject: Acceptance status

Dear Mr vale.
It is with pride that the Caldari Navy accepts you into our training program. You shall be taught to operate aboard starships of various roles, for long durations and under potentially dangerous situations. It will be tough but we believe you can do it. Training will begin at Kisogo VII – State War Academy School station in two weeks.
Yours,

Vergest Ainemen
Caldari Navy High Command Recruitment Liaison

“I’m in.” He said quietly. Muril wiped her eyes and smiled.
“What about you?” Aldur asked.
“I got accepted, I was told at school.” Muril said in a hushed voice.
“That’s fantastic!” Aldur congratulated her. He grabbed a drink from the fridge.

“The transport ships out tomorrow night, Aldur.” He nearly choked.
“Tomorrow?” He asked, disbelieving. He put his drink down to make sure he wouldn’t drop it.
“Yeah. That’s it, I guess this is all over tomorrow.”
“Yeah...” Aldur sighed.
“Where are you shipping to?” He asked, joining her on the bed.
“I’ll be heading to Malkalen to begin corporate induction then hopefully I’ll be aboard the Q’achai as Ops Chief for Ishukone.”
Aldur took that in. The Q’achi was one of three Wyvern class supercarriers operated by the Ishukone Mega-corporation and to become a fighter pilot, or an operations officer, for a supercarrier you had to be exceptionally skilled.

Muril took on a different tactic.
“Seeing as this is going to be our last night together...” she began, gently trailing her finger down Aldur’s face, “We may as well make it memorable.” She said. Aldur turned to face her fully. She pulled her top off, messing her hair up in the process and unclasped her bra. He did a double take.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He asked quietly, his face totally serious. Muril shook her hair out, her eyes half closed.
“Shut up and fuck me.” She said, dragging him down with her.

The next day, Muril was due to leave. A large sub-orbital ferry had docked in the space port just outside the city. Aldur, in his uniform, held her hand until her name was called, she kissed him before leaving. At the top of the ramp she turned and saluted to him, looking totally at home in her crisp dark blue uniform. Aldur returned the salute and she disappeared into the transport. Aldur turned and left to spend some time with his parents before he shipped out himself. The ferry took off noisily to dock with a geosynchronous transfer station where the new recruits would board a warp capable shuttle and be carried on to Malkalen.

A fortnight later, a navy officer called all of the accepted recruits together. They were each given a navy cadet uniform and listened to the officer lecture about the trials of the fleet fielded by the Caldari Navy. Two recruits pulled out at the last minute. At the end of the presentation the officer asked if anyone had any questions. Nobody did.
A ferry very similar in appearance to the one Muril had been shipped out on was waiting in the port again and the newly decorated Navy Cadets boarded it. The trip was uncomfortable for the most part but for five minutes before the ferry docked the cadets were allowed unrestricted zero-gee movement. Aldur had never known freedom such as this in his life. His enjoyment was cut short as before any time seemed to have passed a warning light blinked balefully and cadets were ordered back to their restraints.

The ferry docked with the transfer station with a minimum of fuss and Aldur was ushered into the cold, bleak station with the other cadets. There was a reception area with hard plastic chairs but the recruits weren’t stopping. A navy shuttle was waiting for them. Aldur could feel his nerves beginning to creep up on him. They had been briefed on the effects of warp drives on passengers that were not capsuleers and been given medication to stem the onset of cynosic fibrosis, commonly known as jump sickness. The interior of the shuttle was bright and welcoming, unlike the functional aesthetic of the ferry or station.

The shuttle undocked and sped away from the station. The cadets watched their home planet vanish behind them as the shuttle went to warp. For Aldur it was the single most uncomfortable experience in his life.
“My god...” he heard the recruit next to him gasp. The shuttle creaked as it decelerated in preparation to pass through the Kisogo stargate.

“Recruits! Prepare for the jump!” The voice of the officer barked over the intercom.
Aldur looked at the other recruits and they looked at others in confusion, they had not been given any training for this. On instinct, Aldur blew all of the air out of his lungs. A few recruits saw him and copied his action. Mere nano-seconds later the shuttle jumped and Aldur felt his body implode. He woke a few moments later in the warm passenger compartment of the shuttle as it was coasting away from the stargate. Blowing the air from his lungs was probably the only thing that stopped him from bringing up his breakfast like the majority of the recruits. Some were passed out, most were being violently sick. Aldur noticed he was starting to develop a stinging migraine. A particularly sharp throb made him wince.

“You alright?” Aldur whispered to the red-head to his left. He had exhaled like Aldur had.
“Yeah, got a monster of a headache now though.” He replied. A few nurses and medics entered the room and began checking the recruits.
“I’m Jimmerae.” The red-head whispered, holding out his right arm.
“Aldur” Aldur replied, awkwardly clasping Jimmerae’s right hand in his left.
A nurse of Achura descent quickly checked them with a handheld scanner and nodded approvingly at the results.
“You boys did the right thing there. Good thinking.” She said quietly before moving on to another group. They had been so busy staring at the nurse they hadn’t even noticed that the shuttle had entered warp again.

8 years later
After the destruction of the last of the Guristas battleships, the crew of the Caldari Navy Raven exploded into celebrations. Aldur quietly slipped off the bridge to meet Jim in the aft crew accommodation block. This particular Raven was piloted by a Navy capsuleer and so the crew was really there just for maintenance and performance consistency. Aldur had been given the prestigious role of crew officer aboard the Raven. The Navy knew he was capable enough; his track record included being the commander of a Caracal class cruiser and various high ranking positions aboard other vessels.  He found Jim leaning against a bulkhead, his ginger hair looking black in the half-light.
“Mr vale!” He boomed, approaching Aldur. His uniform was undone at the neck.
“Jim!” Aldur boomed back, clasping his hand tightly, “long time no see!”
“Aye! Been awful busy, what with that portside thruster kicking out of alignment all the damned time.”     
They walked up to the observation tower where the attendant poured them each a cold glass of water, whilst throwing obvious and lust-filled glances at Jim.

“I think you’ve pulled mate.” Aldur whispered as they stared out at the littered battleground that had been alive with fire just moments before.
“Really?” Jim asked, Aldur snorted into his drink. “What makes you say that?”
Jim turned to look at the young attendant. Aldur stared into the ferro-carbonide pane of the observation window and unfocussed his eyes in time to see her blow Jim a kiss. Jim turned back.
“Oh...” He said taking a gulp of his water. “She’s very pretty.”
“Go for it mate, I was gonna head back down to the bridge after this anyway.” Aldur said putting down his cup and pulling the edges of his officer’s uniform tight.
“Umm hmm.” Jim left him standing there and within moments the pair were deeply engrossed in one another’s mouths.

Aldur watched the nearby wreck of a Guristas battleship and had to blink. He swore it had just shimmered, like water was passing over it. There was a bright flash as something hit the shield and detonated. Aldur covered his eyes as the emergency klaxons started wailing. Jim leapt off the girl who in turn leapt over the couch they had been sat on to get to the lift. The three of them were all business as the lift reached the main deck. Stepping out Aldur looked over his shoulder at Jim.

“I’ll let you know what’s going on from the bridge.” Aldur stated. Jim nodded before running to engineering. Aldur strode on to the bridge and was amazed to find it quiet. He sat at his station and then saw why everyone was so quiet. The dorsal shields had completely failed. This was impossible, the shields were always uniformly charged and up while the ship was powered. This had to be an attack.

“All hands: brace for impact.” Came the monotone of the capsuleer captain. There was an almighty heave that threw a few crew members to the deck. Aldur swore the ship was actually coming apart. That was when he saw the Nightmare, a massive, spiky, vertically designed Sansha’s Nation battleship firing into the unshielded hull.

“Hull breach detected.” The AI informed the crew. “Location: Capsule interface. Sealing affected sections.”
Aldur blanched. They were cutting the capsuleer out of the ship which would effectively render the Raven useless. The panic on the command deck was palpable. Aldur took command of the hectic bridge.

“Everyone listen!” Aldur shouted over the din. People stopped and looked at him. The Nightmare had ceased fire and was pulling the crippled capsule into the ship.
“As the ranking officer on the bridge I am hereby taking command of this vessel.” He strode to the front of the command deck.
“Let’s get this ship into manual control mode and take that bastard down!” The bridge crew nodded and got to work restoring the vessels capabilities. With the capsuleer absent the power would have to be manually managed, as would defensive and offensive systems. The crew all had starship training and knew what had to be done; a space vessel was no place for an idiot. Panelling was ripped out and consoles were jury-rigged by technicians.

Aldur hit the ship-wide intercom.
“All crew, this is your acting captain speaking. We were just attacked by a vessel of the Sansha’s Nation which has, cut out, our capsuleer captain.” Effective immediately, the vessel is to be configured for manual control, Aldur vale out.”

“Sir our long-range transmitter has been destroyed by the EMP charge that took out our shields.” A junior bridge officer piped up.
“Acknowledged, ensign.” Aldur nodded. Fifteen minutes passed with the Nightmare busy hauling in the pod, it was all but ignoring them. A mistake on their part, something the Sansha’s Nation rarely makes.
“Are we combat effective yet, Jim?” Aldur asked through the intercom.
“I think so, take it easy on manoeuvring though, captain.”
“Thank you.” Aldur sighed.
“Let’s do this. Sensors: Lock that ship.”
The sensor operator replied quickly.
“Target locking... Locked.”
Aldur faced the weapons officer.
“Destroy it.”

The Raven rolled over, presenting its unaffected ventral shields and, one after the other, launched six cruise missiles with kinetic warheads. The Nightmare’s strong shields absorbed the first volley, the second took them down by a quarter. It fired back, its lasers refracting off the Raven’s advanced shield system. The tense fight lasted ten minutes. The Nightmare must have been cloaked to sneak up on them, waiting for an opportunity. What their plans were remained a mystery.

“Good job crew. A fine Job.” Aldur was exhausted, the adrenaline was draining from him.
“Navigator, retrieve the captain’s capsule.” He ordered.

The Raven rolled back to its original plane. It slowly approached the wreckage of the Sansha’s warship. With short range tractor beams usually used for delicate docking procedures the capsule was brought into the cargo hold.

“Do we still have warp drive?” Aldur asked, leaning his head in his hands.
“Yes sir.” The helmsman responded.
“Take us home please.”
The heavily damaged Raven aligned to a station and was whisked away a matter of moments later.


A week later Aldur was before a Navy panel. The Navy’s supreme commander leading the hearing leaned lightly on his desk and observed Aldur and his recently awarded medal of extreme valour.
“So you took command of the critically damaged vessel and destroyed the enemy, without the command capsule to regulate the systems.”
“Yes, sir, I did.”
“And then, you rescued the capsuleer from the wreck before bringing him back to station?”
“Yes, sir, I did.”
“You show a lot of compassion toward capsuleers. Many would have left him to freeze.”
“I am aware, sir.”
“Why did you rescue him?”
“He may not choose to accept this but he is still human. I care to save human lives, if they are of the correct alignment of course, sir.”
The panel murmured amongst itself.
“You also show a remarkable ability to command large vessels under particularly stressful situations, which is why we are inducting you in our capsuleer training program.”
Aldur blinked, shocked. His mother would definitely disapprove.
“Thank you, sir.”

Aldur left the hearing chamber with a feeling of excited trepidation gnawing at him. Sending a brief message to his parents and friends appraising them of his situation before being led away by a group of Navy personnel.

A year later

To: Caldari Navy High Command
From: Aldur vale

It is with a heavy heart that I place my resignation order with the mighty Caldari Navy. Protecting our homesteads is an important task for every Caldari in the State and it is a task I shall now carry out as a Civilian. Know that no Navy vessel will have anything to fear from me and I shall do what I can to protect Caldari lives and the lives of the State’s allies.
Thank you for all the training, respect and trust the Navy has shown in me.

Farewell,
Aldur vale.

Aldur sent the message nearly a week ago. Now he was in Kisogo VII – State War Acadamy School station as a capsuleer. He had a brand new Ibis-class frigate and a wallet of five thousand InterStellar Kredits. With this he had nearly unparalleled opportunity to live his immortality however he felt it should be lived. Sending the order to station space control and following the instructions from his agent, he undocked from the massive station and willed his tiny ship into warp.

A year later

Aldur didn’t know whether he should feel guilty or not of what just happened. After completing a mission of obliterating a Guristas stronghold in Silen he had returned to Silen 4 – Moon 18 – Chief Executive Panel Treasury with a few newly acquired battle scars on his Drake-class battlecruiser. His agent, Sitsen Ahtamon, had called him to her quarters rather than her office to discuss the mission. He had been to her quarters before but... something... was different about this visit. The difference was that they had finally had sex.
It was an odd feeling. Before, there was an ever-present sexual tension in the air whenever he entered her office but now it would be different. He didn’t feel awkward, he had wanted her for a while and even joked about the tension whenever possible, he just felt as if he had used her. Hopefully he would shake that feeling because while casual relationships were good, they could easily get in the way of business. She stirred and Aldur reached over to gently move her short blonde from her face.

“Good afternoon...” Aldur said quietly. Sitsen smiled.
“Good afternoon to you, pilot.” She replied, a trace of sleepiness in her voice.
“You’re a pretty good multi-tasker you know... Killing pirates, flying ships, keeping your standings up.” She giggled. Aldur smiled at her as they both got changed.
“Comes with the territory.” Aldur said.
They reached Sitsen’s office a few moments later where she finalised Aldur’s last mission and prepped a new one.     

A week passed without incident, the deaths of a few hundred thousand pirate crew members never weighed heavily on Aldur’s mind. He did however tire of the constant destruction and, as he was now doing, sometimes sought solitude in space. A friend at the Chief Executive station had given him the co-ordinates of a privately-owned orbital station that was apparently a good place to relax and wind down.
Hardly anyone knows of it, he had been told.

As Aldur approached the small station he was beginning to doubt the validity of that statement. Five civilian frigates, two large capsuleer piloted cruisers, an interceptor and what looked like a Hurricane-class battlecruiser were clamped to the external docking ring. His Caldari Scorpion-class battleship was easily the largest and strongest but he didn’t expect to see such a number of vessels here. The docking procedure took longer than expected but purely because the controller had never seen the sleek, predatory design of the Scorpion before.

He stepped into the station an hour later. He always felt drained after being extracted from his capsule; Aldur could appreciate why many poets and artists had likened the extraction process to spiders when they shed their skins.
A spider, like a capsuleer, is a fearsome predator with hard armoured skin like a capsuleer’s ship. When it comes time, the spider must peel its stiff, old skin away in order to grow. They seek solitude to do this, again, like a capsuleer. With extreme care and effort it pulls itself away from the hard armour, slick and fleshy. It is soft and weak, at its most vulnerable state until its skin once again hardens.

The concourse of the station was brightly lit but there were few people milling about. The stores on this level were mostly shut, their fronts shielded by glowing forcefields. Wondering past them, Aldur noticed his civilian clothing was a little bit tight around his chest but there wasn’t a lot he could do about it. Taking a long walk around the station he couldn’t help but notice people were very respectful of his presence, nodding to him, smiling or shaking his hand. He also noticed there were posters up here and there that never failed to make him smile. They were the familiar “Capsuleer Friendly” posters that independent stations sometimes use. It depicts a capsule with a small arm poking out shaking hands with a man in a backdrop of space. The lack of understanding of the complexities of how capsules work was what made the poster funny to Aldur.

He eventually found himself at a bar. The lighting was dimmed here and there was quiet but heavy music playing. He ordered a drink and found himself an alcove to sit in to observe the patrons. There were four men and two women in two groups. Three of the men were sat around a round table and in discussion; however it couldn’t be that serious a topic of conversation as one of them was resting his head on the table and appeared to be unconscious. The other group, two women and a guy were spread out, one of the women was at the bar, talking to the bartender and the others were dancing near her.

“Hahaha!” he heard a light female laugh and then she appeared. Her straight, black hair flew out around her as she spun into the bar.
“Turn it up!” she shouted to the barkeep. A few of what Aldur assumed to be her friends followed her in.
“Yes, Miss Alexis.” The barkeep said, pressing a key under the bar. The music climbed the decibels to a loud but comfortable volume. The unconscious man twitched violently and woke up. Aldur went to the bar to order another drink.

Sitting down again he returned to observing. Gazing at “Miss Alexis” as she danced he felt he should get to know this girl. Pulling up the information on the station on his wrist-top computer, he grinned. She was the daughter of the man who owns this station, a Mr Alexis, Starship Fabrications Incorporated.

He took another sip of his drink and leaned back to muse on this discovery. The man who had been unconscious just moments before was now talking animatedly with the group who were looking at him disapprovingly. Aldur passed his eyes over “Miss Alexis” again as she sipped a drink through a straw. One of the guys she was with said something funny and she laughed. She was Caldari, Achura, about twenty-five years old and jaw-droppingly gorgeous. He should be so lucky.

The guy at the other table staggered toward her. She got up and they both walked toward an emptier part of the bar. Towards Aldur, who they didn’t even notice was there.
“So I noticed you like podders...” The guy slurred at her.
“Yeah, I kind of have to. Daddy’s a pilot.” She responded.
“Your daddy must be mega rich... To afford... To afford,” He made a wide gesture with his arms, “All this.” He finished.
She nodded, tapping her feet to the music. She was getting bored.
“I like that and I like you.” He said, grabbing her backside. She squeaked in pain.
“Hey, get off!” She shouted.
The barkeep leapt over the bar to come to her assistance but was shot by the guy point blank. His gallentean blaster smoked hot.

The women screamed and dove for cover, scampering away. The group the attacker was with had already vanished.
“I’m a pod pilot too.” He whispered in her ear. “Hopefully your Daddy will be willing to part with a bit of cash to save you...”

Aldur sprinted at the guy and tackled him. His blaster fired randomly into the ceiling as they struggled to regain footing. Aldur punched him in the arm and he dropped the blaster which was kicked away as he tried to retrieve it. Miss Alexis was rooted to the spot, too scared to move. Aldur kicked the attacker in the groin and he fell. Aldur then took Miss Alexis by the arm and ran her to the exit of the bar giving her instructions along the way.

“I  know who you are and you need to leave now.” She nodded.
“Take a shuttle, get to the Chief Executive Panel Treasury station. You can fly can’t you?”
She nodded again. The attacker swung a metal chair at Aldur from behind. It struck his upper arm and he fell into Miss Alexis who in turn hit her head on the bulkhead. She screamed in pain as scarlet blood ran down her face from a small cut.
“Go!” Aldur shouted. “Go now!”
Miss Alexis ran blindly to the hanger, panic leading the way. The attacker faced Aldur, a murderous look in his eyes.

“There’s always a fucking hero.” He murmured. Aldur noticed the barkeep was still alive, dragging himself towards the discarded blaster.
“You’d just be bored without guys like me.” Aldur said with a smile.
“I would actually. I’m getting bored now, time for you to die.”
He swung a left hook which Aldur easily blocked and countered with a kick to the stomach. Aldur wasn’t expecting the right hook and he took the blow hard. Blinking out the stars he crossed his arms to deflect he fist coming at his face. Ducking under the blow he landed two solid punches to the attacker’s stomach and chest. Spinning, Aldur brought his foot around and felt it connect with the side of the attacker’s skull. He fell and didn’t get up. Aldur hit the comms panel on the bulkhead.

“Medical emergency in the bar.”  He breathed. The barkeep would live at least. Aldur left, heading toward the hanger. He could feel his wrists, fingers and face swelling from the impacts but decided to worry later. Strapping into his pod took less time than coming out and within minutes his Scorpion was fully powered and ready to go. With a metallic Thunk, the Scorpion detached from the dock. Miss Alexis was in her shuttle, ten kilometres away.
Aldur opened a comms channel with the shuttle.

“Why haven’t you gone to warp yet?”
A burst of static and then, “Someone has sabotaged this shuttle!” Came the panicked reply.
“Shit.” Aldur murmured. He was two kilometres away from her shuttle when the Claw-class interceptor undocked and began approaching the shuttle at high speed.

“I’m gonna get you, bitch!” He shouted over the local channel. It was the same attacker from the station. It would take Aldur at least twenty-five seconds to achieve a target lock.
The attacker’s overview icon changed from orange to red as he opened fire on the unarmed shuttle.

“I’m under attack! Help me!” Miss Alexis screamed.
“Move, start moving!” Aldur responded, formulating a plan. The aggressor knew the battleship couldn’t target him quick enough but he didn’t count on its formidable size getting in the way. Aldur fired the manoeuvring thrusters and rose up into the path of the speeding Claw.  Absorbing the auto-cannon and missile fire the Scorpion’s shields flared and dropped by half a percent. The disaster management processor aboard the Claw launched the capsule free of the doomed interceptor just moments before it hit Aldur’s Scorpion and disintegrated. The capsule of the attacker fired its braking thrusters but was carrying far too much momentum from the Claw that was doing five kilometres a second when it impacted. The pod hit the Scorpion causing no damage to the ship but vaporising itself in the collision.

“Are you alright?” Aldur asked the shuttle he had just saved. It was drifting.
The view on the comm channel showed the lights were out and relays were sparking. The pilot cabin was filling with deadly smoke.

“Aldur to salvage team beta.” Aldur called through the Scorpion’s intercom.
“Salvage beta, go ahead captain.” The deep voice of his salvage chief responded.
“We have a casualty aboard a shuttle twenty metres below the ship.” Aldur stated, knowing that the team will know what to do.
“Copy that captain, team is mobile.”
“Thanks, Aldur out.”

The remains of the shuttle were brought aboard and salvage team pulled Miss Alexis from the cabin.
Moments later the computer was announcing that docking permission had been granted. Aldur unjacked himself from the Scorpion as fast as possible without even pausing to marvel at how the pod fluid had healed him completely in such a short time.
Station medical had already been informed of the situation and had taken the casualty as soon as the ship had created an air-tight seal. Aldur found her sat on a surgeon’s bed where a nurse was moving a light in front of her eyes and asking her to follow it.  The nurse departed moments later to collate results from the various tests.

“So Miss Alexis...” Aldur started.
“Akara, please, and how do you know who I am.” She said quietly.
“Ok, Akara. I’m Aldur vale and I looked up the station records. Your father is an influential man amongst capsuleers.”
“Oh, I see.” She said, looking at her shoes. Aldur couldn’t help but fall for her.
“Are you alright?” He asked quietly, moving to the bed.
“My head hurts a little.” She replied, touching her forehead.
Aldur gently turned her face, the wound wouldn’t scar. Nor would it leave a mark thanks to modern medicine.
“It’ll pass.” He didn’t know what else to say. She smiled at that.
“You sound like a doctor.” She said.
“There’s not a lot about medicine that I know unfortunately.” He said, noticing that she had taken hold of his hand.
“Thanks for what you did, you probably saved my life.” She said in a small voice. Aldur could tell she had lived a relatively sheltered life.
“Hey, anyone would have done the same. I’m glad I could help.”
“How old are you?” She asked suddenly.
“Twenty-eight. Why?” He was genuinely confused.
“Just wondering, who do you work for?” She asked, again, out of the blue.
Aldur was wondering what she was getting at.
“I work for Blurry Inc.” He said.
She seemed to calculate that in her head.
“I see.” She said, smiling in approval.
Aldur leaned forward to ask her a quiet question.
“I don’t mean to sound forward but,” he swallowed, “Are you taken...?”
Akara chuckled at the question.
“Yeah, yeah I am.” Aldur turned away, embarrassed.
He stood up, reluctantly letting go of her hand, and turned to leave.
“I see... I’d better get off...” He was about to leave when Akara grabbed his hand again and pulled him round.
“No don’t go!” She begged. She got onto her knees, no easy feat in such a short dress, and kissed him.

“But..?” Aldur started. Akara silenced him with her smile.
“He’s jumps away, probably fucking every whore in the solar systems between here and there.” She said with disgust. She shook her head.
“Well... I guess that makes it ok...” Aldur said, for the first time truly unsure of the territory he was entering. He was familiar with lust, but actual love was a different matter indeed.
“It does.” She said fixing him with that look.
“It would be a lie if I said I didn’t want you the moment I saw you.”
“Then don’t lie.” She said, shrugging.
They made love for the first time on that bed and it was only pure luck that they weren’t caught. It was a brilliant reward for the average Damsel in Distress mission... Normally he didn’t even get a thank you.


1 year later
“Do you, Aldur vale, take Akara Alexis to be your wife. To keep her, and only her, through whatever turmoil or joy you may endure?” The priest asked. Aldur felt confident, unafraid. In his old Navy Parade uniform, nothing could touch him or Akara standing before him in her beautifully crafted dress. He turned to look at his parents sat next to Akara’s. His mother looking back, expectant, excited. His father looking on, not betraying his emotions.

“With all my clones: I do.” Aldur replied, evoking a little smile from Akara.

“And do you, Akara Alexis, take Aldur vale to be your husband. To keep him, and only him, through whatever turmoil or joy you may endure?” The priest asked. Akara had to readjust her balance on her heels which caused her breasts to jiggle rather obviously. Aldur struggled not to laugh, and she looked at him and raised her eyebrows menacingly. Aldur’s straight face returned rapidly. Her capsuleer training hadn’t gone as smoothly as his and she had injuries.
She looked at her own parents. He mother watched, idly bored with the whole procedure. Her father gave her the most imperceptible of nods and she turned to face Aldur.

“With all my clones: I do.” She replied.

“Then I pronounce you husband and wife.” The priest snapped closed his paper text.
“You may kiss the bride.”

Aldur leaned forward and gently kissed Akara.
“I love you Mrs vale.” He said with a grin as the chapel erupted in applause.
“I love you too Mr Alexis.” She replied with an impudent smile.

Aldur could see his parents both openly weeping and shook his head in embarrassment.


A week later and the race was on. Aldur powered up his Navy Issue Apocalypse and undocked from Kisogo VII – State War Academy School. A moment later a tiny Ibis frigate pulled up alongside at a stately coast. The Navy Apocalypse was a big, slow but powerful ship. He opened a comm channel with Akara.

“I beat you out.” He said, laughing.
“Yeah well... I beat you to warp.” A second later all he could hear was her laughing as her ship sped off to the Urlen stargate.
He cycled his warp drive and followed, leaving scared, new pilots on flying lessons behind to take his wife hand in hand through her brave new world.