Wednesday, April 29, 2015

New Eden is Not Internet Spaceships

I had a post partially drafted post regarding the future of super-capitals post-FozzieSov. Work has enraged me and ****ed me off to such extents this afternoon that I could write a post about cute kittens and it would be a hate-filled ragey post of rageyness. Here, for my Wednesday post, have the soothing vocals of Ned aka CCP Manifest! I'm off to kick the cat and scream "FFS" into a cushion!

Monday, April 27, 2015

Rewarding Faction War PvP

During the low-sec roundtables CCP Fozzie mentioned something as we were discussing farmers.

"We have been thinking about decoupling LP for kills from tier levels."

The more I think about it, the better this sounds.

Currently in faction war you get loyalty points for missioning, PvP kills and plexing. The number of LP for a kill you get is based on the value of the kill and a calculation on the rough 'value' of LP. This is made to make sure you cannot make an alt in the opposing militia and kill them all day long. These LP rewards are linked to the warzone control tier your militia is at. If you are down at tier 1 you get 50% of the LP. If you are at level 5 you get 225%. I assume the calculations to ensure people cannot profit from killing their own alt takes into account the maximum level. Therefore you cannot profit from farming yourself even at tier 5.

If players got 'maximum' LP for PvP rather than the usual 100% from being at tier 2 (which we seem to be sat at most the time), would that encourage more fighting and less plex farming?

Lets see.

At tier 2 in an empty system I can run a novice and a small in half an hour roughly. That'll get me 27,500 LP if I'm offensive plexing.

So how do kills measure up? I nuked an alt to test.

A 5m ISK frigate kill got me 312LP at tier level 2. So I can make the same LP by killing 88 five-million ISK enemy frigates every half an hour (of course this doesn't include scooped loot or any losses on your own part). Yeah.... not going to happen. Stabbed farmers make a lot more LP than PVP'ing in Faction WAR. Is this really a problem? Yes it is.

Raziel Walker Commented April 8, 2015 at 1:34 AM

What's the problem with WCS? Someone farmed a plex and you killed him. Doesn't really sound as if the dead person needs another nerf...

Are you so bad at pvp you need to saddle up WCS fitted ships with another 80% damage nerf? Is it not enough that he has a 10 km lock range and needs a minute just to lock you? Are you afraid he might actually shoot back?

If I fit a ship for transport and I somehow I do get tackled, I really like the option to shoot back. It's my final resort.

Keep the WCS, remove rewards for plexing!

Are you a pvp-er looking for a fight or a ganker looking to execute someone?

Well.... that last bit should be easy to see by the killboard. I'm a PvP'r. You'll also see very few industrial or mining kills on my page. I like PvP and I like my targets to fight back. Don't get me wrong. I'll happily insta-blap your frigate with my artillery Thrasher if you give me a chance but I'm here for the 'gud fites'.

WCS farmers prevent me from getting 'gud fites' in two ways.

Firstly they are stabbed (well dur) so once I find one, he'll just warp off. I've wasted time and energy tracking down the WAR TARGET and engaging him only to have him piss off. He'll wait at a safe and then go back to the plex. I then have to go and get an anti-WCS ship, avoid other people and kill him. Truth be told, whilst this is annoying it isn't the worst.

The worst bit is that they are attempting to capture my home system day in, day out. Every plex they run is a few more victory points towards being fully contested. Therefore we need to repair the damage they do each day to stop the percentage contested getting too high and the real faction war players on the other side making a concerted push to capture our home system and lock us out of our home station.

If the other side captures our home system then we are completely locked out of the station. That station that holds all of our Eve stuffz. This is a major PITA.

Therefore I need to deplex what damage the farmers have done. I do this by sitting in a plex and watching a massive clock countdown from anything from 10 minutes to 30 minutes. Thats right. I sit there doing nothing but spamming D-Scan (so I know if, hopefully, anyone is coming to fight me). In 45 minutes I can reduce the contested level two and a half percent. 45 minutes of sitting still watching a big timer tick, tick, tick, tick.

Without WCSs farming becomes a lot more difficult. The chances of losing their ship and the delay in reshipping causes farming to be a less palatable occupation therefore hopefully will reduce. I would love it if when I saw an orange backed white star (you know, a WAR TARGET) in local that I knew that was a guy who was here for PvP, not some areshole with multiple warpcore stabs who not only frustrates me when I try to kill him but makes me spend my VGT sat watching a counter tick, tick, tick, tick....

Yes plexing rewards should be nerfed, yes PvP rewards should be buffed (and we are likely to see the later later this year). However, warp core stabs used in what is supposed to be a PvP environment (you have joined a war) currently frustrate and annoy people. They need stomping on in regard to that respect. I'm not saying ban WCS. I'm saying their use in FW needs to be addressed to even up the risk verses reward.

Sunday, April 26, 2015

SCASSSS - Fan Made Griffin

A DeviantArt user by the name of Kwibl posted this he made, reimagining the Griffin.

I really wish I could do something that awesome!

Friday, April 24, 2015

The Body Builder - Part 1

Fiction Friday! Escape pod here

This piece sort of led on from the thinking behind last weeks. I wanted to get the story fully introduced so its a bit longer than usual!

The Body Builder - Part 1

He'd never seen anything like it. A Moros class dreadnought of the Federation Navy entering siege mode. Of course he'd seen it in holovids. Cheesy Gallente action movies where the hero was so heroic that it was almost laughable. However he'd never seen it in real life. The massive warship was deploying. Its six massive cannons extending and rotating slowly and menacingly towards its intended target.

"We should go." his companion whispered. "We don't want to get decloaked by one of these interceptors that are buzzing around."

Their cloaked ship aligned away as the massive hybrid weapons on the dreadnought fired a warning shot at its target, lighting up the space in a spectacular show of destruction.

"How did I get myself into this?" he whispered to himself.

Six months earlier....

Gaull finished off the last of the inputs into the control console. He glanced into the glass-tube stretched out in front of him. The bio-mass was starting to take shape. In a few days that slop of amino-acids and tissue would be a living human body. Gaull was a clone-construction technician for a plastic surgery practice on a space-station near Gallente Prime. Whilst they provided the usual nip and tuck services, for those who could afford it they provided the ultimate service. Not happy with your body? Nauseatingly rich? Then they would grow you a new body and transfer your consciousness into it. Hideously expensive and a legal nightmare with all the hoops that had be to jumped through, but it could be done if you had the cash.

He glanced at his watch, finishing time. Gaull locked the console and left the program to run. He went out back and changed out of his bright white lab coat. Within 5 minutes he was stepping out into the brightly space-station concourse. This was the affluent upper decks of the station. Everywhere screamed wealth. Gaull did not live here. His technicians salary was nowhere near enough. He lived 24 decks below. He glanced at his watch again. 25 minutes until the station train would be here to ferry him to the main lift. Time for a cheeky beer he thought.

The Rampant Frog was a wine bar located between his work and the transit station. He would regularly stop here on the way home. He knew he'd save a few credits by calling in at his local on Deck 36, but the people watching here was much better. It his local it was miners and workers. Here it was the rich and their absurd lives. He entered the establishment which was fairly quiet. The barman looked up and nodded, filling a glass with a pint of Blaster Burn ale. Gaull never needed to ask. He was a regular and always had the same. Taking his usual table he perched on the bar-stool and took his first sip of the frothy cold beer. Glancing around he noticed a few people. An older overweight Gallente man was sat with a much younger woman. She was blonde and tapping away at a datapad. A pile of shopping bags were scattered around her feet from the various designer stores in this area. Daughter or gold digger Gaull wondered. He'd come back to those two later. Next up was a taller guy working on a small portable computer. His dress screamed banker. Nothing interesting there. Next there was a woman in a booth alone. Gaull froze, she was beautiful. Not just beautiful, she was his vision of perfection. She looked over and caught him staring. He quickly looked away hoping his tongue wasn't hanging out. When he dared to look again she was still looking at him, smiling. He looked away again. He was embarrassed she'd caught him staring. For the next five minutes he looked everywhere except in her direction. She appeared to be a cross between his two favorite holoreel actresses. As he avoided looking in her direction one of the waiters came over to him.

"The lady in the booth would like you to join her." he said with a smile. Gaull looked at him in disbelief and then over to her. She had moved back into the booth and gestured to the empty seat on the bench next to her. Gaull nodded and swallowed hard. Was this really happening? He rose and picked up his pint, walking over to the smiling woman.

"Hi I'm Jasmeen." she purred. "I've been stood up and saw you drinking alone and thought you might like some company."

Gaull laughed. "Isn't that supposed to be my line?"

He introduced himself and sat down. She was in PR apparently and had arranged to meet a friend here but they had sent a message saying something had come up and they couldn't make it. They chatted for ten minutes when Gaull remembered his station-train. There was no way this beautiful creature would see him as a potential mate. She could have anyone. May be she just felt pity on him. Staying would make it worse. He might get ideas above his station. Make a pass at her and cause all sorts of trouble.

"Well its been nice chatting to you, but I have to catch my ride home." he said finishing his beer in one gulp.

"Oh that's a shame. I have a room booked at the Hytali Hotel over the promenade. Given as I am now going to be alone tonight I was going to invite you back."

Gaull splutter over the dregs of his beer in shock.

"Its up to you, but I can promise you'll get a more interesting ride in my hotel room." she whispered seductively.

Gaull swallowed hard.


The elevator ascended in silence. Jasmeen leaned against the wall smiling at him. Thoughts were racing through Gaull's head.

This woman is perfection.
Why would she be interested in me?
There is something wrong here.
Is she going to rob me?
No, I clearly don't have the money to make it worth her while, I told her I was only a tech.
Is she going to rob me and harvest my organs for sale on the black market?
No, that only happens on poor Matari worlds. Organs can be grown cheaper here.
What does she want from me?
Does she know who I am? Wanting a discount on a procedure?
Don't be silly. The woman is perfect, she needs no work.
This must be a dream?

The elevator pinged and the doors opened. Jasmeen led the way. Following behind Gaull inspected her. The shoes were Vallou and very expensive. He was a leg man himself, and hers were some of the best he'd ever seen. The skirt was short but tasteful. The blouse was expensive and shimmered as she moved. Her hair was just how he liked it. Black and cascaded over her shoulders. She looked over her shoulder as if she could hear his thoughts. The smile made his heart flutter. She stopped outside a door and produced a keycard. She opened the door and stepped in. Gaull's heart was racing as he followed her down the short corridor into a bedroom. He stopped as he watched her climb onto the bed.

"Hello Gaull." a male voice said. 

Gaull span around. In the corner a young Gallente man sat smiling.

"Who are you?" Gaull gasped at the stranger.

"My name is Daemire. Please take a seat?" the man said gesturing to the the armchair opposite him. Gaull glanced at Jasmeen who was reclining on the bed seductively and also smiling.

"Look, you don't need to worry. Nothing bad is going to happen to you. I'm here to offer you a job." the stranger said.

Slowly Gaull crossed the room and sat down opposite the smiling man. He was young and hansom and very smartly dressed. Gaull considered his skin, it was not right.

"You are a clone."

"Yes I am. In my line of work I have access to the top of the line clones. My birth-body is not as young or as in as good a shape as this one. I'm hoping I can convince you to join our team and make our clones even better."

"So this was all a setup? Why not just call me?" Gaull said disappointingly. 

The man laughed. "Oh don't worry. You'll get your time with our Jasmeen. I don't call. I meet. I wanted to speak to you face-to-face."

"To offer me a job?"


"You work for a rival surgery?" Gaull asked.

"No, not really. However we are looking to recruit you. You know the Yulai agreement on cloning YC89?"

"Of course. Its the legal framework we have to work to in the Federation, and so do the other Empires, in regard to cloning."

"You know section 39B?"

"Yes. That's the naughty list as we call it in the trade. Cloning acts that are illegal."

"Tell me about them?"

Gaull looked at him wondering where this was going.

"Any new clone must be recognizable as the original person unless exempt in clause D. The new clone can only differ in age by five years, again subject to clause D exemptions. No clone under a genetic age of 21 can be produced unless by clause D. No copying the exact likeness of other people alive or dead. The DNA must not be altered in anyway and standard DNA scanners must recognize the persons new body as them, again all subject to clause D. It goes on, but they are the main ones."

The man smiled and nodded.

"You know your cloning law certainly. Ever done any Clause D exceptions?"

Gaull tensed. Was this a police investigation? A sting operation? He'd never done anything wrong as far as he was aware.

"Yes I have."

"Can you tell me what the exemptions are, this clause D?"

"For medical reasons where there is written authorization from a Class A Governmental hospital and a doctor from such must be present. A written court order is another way to invoke clause D. Or if you are a Capsuleer of course, they can do what the hell they like."

"So which ones have you done?"

"I've done three under 21's clones in the past. Children with medical problems where it was better to provide a new body than carry out multiple organ transplants or in cases where the cancer was inoperable. I've also done two by court order but as I'm sure you are aware I cannot talk about those."

"Of course. Witness protection is a big old minefield isn't it." the man smiled.

"What is this about?" Gaull  asked. He glanced back at Jasmeen who smiled seductively at him from the bed.

"As I said I wanted to offer you a job. I need someone with your skills and experience. Your bosses know what they've got but you'll never make partner. They are happy to take credit for your amazing abilities."

"My bosses pay me well." he said guardedly.

"I suppose. 35 thousand a year is not bad for a 29 year old. I can offer you ten times that."

Gaull spluttered. "Three hundred and fifty grand a year?"

"With a hundred and fifty grand bonus on top if you perform well."

"Half a million? Per year!"

The man nodded.

"What's the catch?" Gaull asked warily.

"Obviously for that money this is not a standard 9 to 5. Its a five-year fixed contract with no 'out clause'. You are ours for five-years. The job is on a private low-sec outpost and you are not allowed to leave during your employ except in very special and controlled circumstances. The outpost is well equipped. Its a mini-city complete with parks and gardens but you are still restricted."

"Sounds like a prison sentence to me."

"Not many prisoners do a five-year stretch in a luxury city and leave with two and a half mill' at the end of their sentence."

"Still sounds fishy. No way you can pay me that and just be doing basic cosmetic cloning. There's more to this."

"Yes there is. I have my own personal addition to Clause D."

"Let me guess. Whoever you say is exempt, is exempt."

The man smiled and nodded. Gaull suspected this was now indeed a test. Someone from the local police seeing if he'd break the law with enough encouragement. Could even be a CONCORD audit.

"Thanks but I think I'll pass."

"You think I'm the police don't you." the mysterious man said with a playful smile.

"Oh no, I'm sure you are this big powerful criminal mastermind. Perhaps even the leader of the Serpentis Syndicate." Gaull joked as he stood getting ready to leave. The man picked up his datapad and pressed a button. Gaull felt his own datapad vibrate.

"Before you leave I'd check that if I was you."

Warily Gaull picked up his datapad. A message had arrived from his bank. A notification of a funds transfer. His blood ran cold when he saw that all the money in his account had just been transferred somewhere unknown. 


The man pressed another button and Gaull got another notification. He now had a billion credits in his account. His mouth hung open. The man pressed a button a third time and there was another withdrawal from Gaull's account leaving him with the original amount he had in there.

"That is nothing. We can take everything you have or simply delete any trace of you. We can put you on the Federal Fugitive database in less time than it took to hack your bank account. We can add a warrant for you complete with your finger prints and DNA profile and a tie to a particularly heinous crime. We are everywhere and we can do anything. We'd like you to work with us, not against us."

Gaull slumped down in the chair.

"Five years. Do your job and enjoy life on the outpost. Trust me, it can be very enjoyable, we take care of our own.Your accommodation will be equivalent to a five star suite in this hotel. All living costs will be met by the organization. You'll be able to save the vast majority of your wealth and leave a multimillionaire. You'll even get one night a week with one of our girls like Jasmeen there."

Gaull glanced back and Jasmeen lounging on the bed gave him that knee trembling smile of hers.

"Stay here tonight and think about it. This room is paid for and anything you want on room service is included, as is Jasmeen. We've taken the liberty of bringing fresh clothes for the morning from your apartment." the man stood and walked to a wardrobe. He opened it and Gaull recognized the clothes hanging there.

"You broke into my apartment?" Gaull asked incredulously, rising from his chair.

"We broke nothing. We know all about you Gaull and we can do anything we want." he nodded at Jasmeen who rose from the bed. She unzipped her dress and let it fall to the floor. Gaull stood opened mouthed.

"Jasmeen's body was sculpted to your tastes. We looked at your computers and datapads. We found what, well more like who you liked and made her body specially for you. Firstly to entice you to this room to meet me and then, tonight, to give you a taste of what life will be like working for us. Is she not your perfect woman?"

Gaull couldn't reply. She was. 

"I will leave you with Jasmeen now. She can answer any questions you have about life on our outpost, she's lived there for the last two years. In the morning you can either leave with her and she'll take you to the shuttle. We'll arrange for transport of all your goods to your new home. Or you can leave and go back to work. There will be no hard feelings and you'll be left alone. However we will be watching. You mention this meeting or anything about us to anyone, we will destroy you."

Gaull watched the man walk to the door.

"Good night Gaull. I hope to see you soon."

With that the stranger stepped through the door and was gone. Gaull stared at the closed door, too stunned to move. He felt hot breath by his ear. A slender hand wrapped around the front of his body and caressed his chest. He turned around to face Jasmeen and she pulled him into her. The kiss was electrifying. He hot wet tongue plunging into his mouth. He pulled back slightly. 

"I don't know what to do?" he said. His voice only a whisper.

"Let me show you what one of the main perks of the job will be and then we can talk" she purred leading him to the bed.


18 hours later Gaull gazed out of the window. The stars of deep space blurred against the ship's warp tunnel. He was still processing last night. He and Jasmeen had, talked about the outpost, and she had shown him what heaven could be like. She was honest about life on the outpost. She likened it to living in a five star hotel. It was luxurious and a very high standard of living but it was still restrictive. The organization also had a beach resort on a nearby temperate planet and they were given leave twice a year to visit. The transport to and from the resort and the resort itself was heavily guarded, there was no escape, but it was still a tropical beach resort.

She wouldn't divulge what his job would be other than something to do with cloning. She went into detail on everything else. She was an escort working for the organization. High-class, high cost and she regularly swapped bodies using clones to satisfy her customers desires.

By the time he'd fallen asleep he was worn out both mentally and physically. She was exceptionally skilled in bed.

That morning he was woken by Jasmeen. An hour of frantic love making and he cast his doubts aside. He'd follow this woman into the gates of hell .Three hours of flight time and they arrived at his home for the next five years.

It was indeed a small private outpost on the fringes of Federation space. His apartment was exactly as the stranger had promised. It was equivalent to a five star suite and his belongings had been already shipped. He was still sorting things out when the door bell sounded. He opened it to find Daemire stood there.

"Welcome aboard". He said with a smile stepping inside. "Happy with your digs?"

"Yes. Very." Gaull smiled.

"I know five years sounds like an eternity but you'll be out of here before you know it and be able to retire at 34! You start work in the morning I'll come to collect you, don't worry its all easy stuff for a man of your considerable talents."

Gaull raised an eyebrow and Daemire just laughed.

"I'll leave you to your unpacking." he said turning back to the door. "Or you can enjoy my house-warming present. Up to you!" he said as he left.

Gaull was about to ask what present when Jasmeen appeared in the still open doorway swiftly followed by another woman. This other woman was a dark-skinned Matari woman. Almost as beautiful as Jasmeen. They stood before him with cheeky smiles.


"I'm still not sure about him. The psych-profile raised two flags." Yvelle said leaning back in her chair as Daemire entered the control room of the outpost.

Daemire shook his head. Yvelle was his second in command on the outpost. An ex-escort who knew the business inside out.

"You worry too much. Name me someone who doesn't get a flag on black or pink jobs? I assume those are the two that were flagged?"

"He's too young and we've got no leverage on him. No family to threaten, no dark secrets to use as blackmail. If he freaks at what we ask him to do, he's a risk." she continued.

Daemire approached the desk and looked on the screen. The hidden camera showed the tangle of limbs on Gaull's bed.

"He appears to be enjoying himself!" Daemire remarked with a smile."Look, this guy was on the Federal, State and Republic watch-lists for expert cloners. The Empires keep close tabs on those who excel in cloning. Anyone can learn to be a clone-tech, this guy is an artist. A natural. If the Feds were worried we could make a copy of President Roden that nobody can spot, then he belongs here!" Daemire laughed "They are probably having kittens right about now if they've noticed he's vanished!"

"Yes I admit he's good and he appears to be having fun. For now. However, what when the Emissary books a visit to see one of his special girls. Or Dunidi turns up with that look in his eye and wants a special? What about when he is asked to do one of those jobs"

"Then we'll cross that bridge when we come to it." Daemire said sternly indicating the conversation was over. "If he freaks then we'll airlock him. The others haven't done any better, lets see if this one does."

The two fell silent and turned to watch the show on the monitor.

To be continued.....

Wednesday, April 22, 2015

The Poor Cat

I was waiting for some builders to arrive last night so couldn't go far. I noted a war target in system but no plex open. I checked his killboard and saw he was a stabbed farmer. Logging on my scanning alt I found him at a safe spot and used the triple long point Kestrel to send him to LP farmer heaven.

A bit later (no the bloody builders still hadn't turned up) I was doing a few bits in station when I saw on alliance chat that there was a Svipul war target. I undocked quickly without thinking. I scanned and only saw a Catalyst. Idiot! These guys were somewhere else! Anyway, my interested piqued I D-Scanned scanned the open plex to see where this Catalyst was. Given there were not WT's in system and I was only Caldari Militia in there he had to be a neut. Using logic, he was looking for a fight. I found him on D-scan towards a small plex. OK, but wait, what did I undock in? Oh, Ideal!

I warped to the plex and found the Catalyst sat outside. Scram, web and he's toast.

Good fight?

Not really.

I was in an over-sized afterburner, arty Thrasher. This exploits the massive handicap of the Catalyst. Only two mid-slots. My arty cannons made short work of him.

This got me thinking. That poor guy had no chance against me. Is that fair? The Catalyst is an ideal blaster boat and packs probably the greatest punch for its size and price. Its why it is popular with high-sec gankers. Amazing DPS for the cost of the ship. It is rarely used as a railgun platform, the Cormorant performs that role the best. The Catalyst is the good old "brawling, face-melting, up-close and personal, take this you scumbag" blaster boat.

Conventional fitting wisdom is that any blaster boat needs the following:-

A prop mod - You need to get to point-blank range for max DPS
A scram - You need to get to point-blank range for max DPS
A web - You need to get to point-blank range for max DPS

However with only two modules what do you do? Which do you choose?

Of course there are several options, the most common being a MWD and scram. However if your opponent has a AB or web he has a chance of pulling range. A popular one is prop module and web. Its amazing how many people will automatically assume they are pointed without looking.

This dude came at me with MWD and Scram. Unfortunately for him the MWD didn't slow me down but my own web slowed him down.

I have Catalysts but rarely use them for this point. Unless you are fighting another face-to-face brawler you are in danger of being easily kited or your opponent escaping.

So what can be done?

Add another mid slot?

That would unbalance destroyers and make the Catalyst way overpowered. May be it is doomed forever to be "the gank destroyer" and the "I hope he doesn't notice I don't have a scram on this destroyer" or the "I hope he isn't AB fit destroyer" or the "I hope he dies before be can kill me destroyer"?

In the end I realise the Catalyst should be left as it is. This is Eve Online. Its about choice. Want good DPS with web, scram and prop mod? Get yourself an AC Thrasher. Want pure damage output? Grab a Catalyst and accepted with great DPS comes great drawbacks too.

Monday, April 20, 2015

Entosis Links - Now With 66% Less Trololololol

CCP are really taking on board players comments and concerns with Fozzie Sov. The revised thinking on the Entosis link has been posted on the forums and its looking good. They are aiming for the ideal of "Whoever controls the grid, wins" as opposed to "Whoever is the best kiter wins".

Concern - You can just sit a Capital on the capture point and win!
Solution - Capital ships have a role bonus that increases the module cycle time by 5x. Therefore that capital will be stuck there unable to warp, jump or escape for 25 minutes after activating a T1 link module. Not a great plan in the enemies space. Even with the T2 version, 10 minutes is a long time to have your capital sat vulnerable and unable to escape. Remember that the first cycle is just a warm up. A capital with a T1 link will need 50 minutes to affect the structure.

Concern - Trollolololol Interceptors will dominate
Solution - The link now adds between 250,000 and 1,000,000 mass when online. Note that is not activated, that s online. Like a plate. Your Trollololololceptor probably moves like its flying in treacle when one of these is fitted.
Outcome - You are going to lose that Trollolololceptor often. Add on the cost of the link and fuel and it will be a fairly expensive troll.

Concern - Kitey ships will still dominate
Solution - To be kitey you need the T2 version. That requires 100 powergrid. Not easy for a frigate or destroyer to fit.
Outcome - When you are buying Cynabals to throw away, you might ask how much trolling you are really doing!

Concern - Trolling by logging off deep in enemy territory and hitting the structures... Every. Bloody. Day.
Solution - The Entosis link now uses fuel in the form of Stront. You'll need to get a supply of fuel down there.
Outcome - You'll need two alts now instead of one. One in the Entosis equipped ship, the other in a cloaky industrial with a cargo of Stront. Additionally, will stront be in more demand? Less sieged dreadnoughts now HP grinding is no more but lots of entosis links? How will that affect Stront demand?

The actual stats currently (and very subject to change) are:-

T1 Entosis Link:
Base 5 minute cycle time and 25km range, costing ~20m isk
Requires Infomorph Psychology 1
+250,000 mass when online
5 Minute Cycle Time, 25km range
10 PWG, 1 CPU
50 Capacitor per cycle (0.1666 cap/s)
Consumes 1 Stront per cycle

T2 Entosis Link:
Base 2 minute cycle time and a 250km range, costing ~80m isk
Requires Infomorph Psychology 4
+1,000,000 mass when online
2 Minute Cycle Time, 250km range
100 PWG, 10 CPU
500 Capacitor per cycle (4.166 cap/s)
Consumes 1 Stront per cycle

Sunday, April 19, 2015

SCASSSS - New POS Bubble

They might not be around a full year with the new structures coming, but CCP have upgraded the POS bubble effect. Must say it does look rather good!

Friday, April 17, 2015

When its Not Really Murder

Friday fiction! A word of warning. This is certainly a story containing very adult themes. So under 18's and people who are not interested in Eve-O fiction, please use this escape pod!

When its Not Really Murder

Lellevoire cruised down the wide street slowly. This was the real bad part of the city. Old semi-industrial with cheap housing. The huge space-elevator dominated the skyline even at this late at night. The green-yellow of the Gallente nebula casting a long shadow over half the city. His old vehicle slid silently down the street. His wife had constantly asked why he didn't get a new one, one of the new mag-lev cruiser-cars. As the aging police chief for an upscale district he could certainly afford one. He always told her there was no need and they had better things to spend their money. I reality it was because a new vehicle would stick out like a sore thumb when he did these trips to the shit-end of town. He needed a vehicle that blended in.

He passed two homeless men drunkenly trading punches beside some over-flowing bins. A little further an old woman wearing several coats was pushing a trolley of crushed Quafe cans along the pavement. The Gallente Federation was a beacon of hope, freedom and opportunity in New Eden, but like any society it had its highs and it had its lows. This area was very much home to the later. The headlights of his vehicle illuminated something of interest ahead. A young woman stood by the intersection. Her micro-skirt hardly covering the curve of her backside. Lellevoire slowed as he passed and she looked hopefully at him. Probably late teens and also probably a flood-head by the look of her. Mindflood was a terrible narcotic and took a heavy toll on those addicted to it. However it wasn't the drugs that put him off. He sped up again.

Lellevoire passed a few more girls. All the same. Eager to sell their bodies for the next fix. Mindflood, exile, synth blue pills, everyone of these had their poison. He cruised past them all. Gallente, Matari, even a few Caldari. Not of interest to him. Then he saw her. His heart started to race. Unlike the others she had very little on show. White sneakers that were now grey with dirt and grime. Jeans and a thick jumper covered her up and kept her warm. She wasn't stood by the road, but leaning against a wall between two dumpsters. He slowed to a crawl as he approached. Yes, she looked like what he was looking for.

"Hey. Come here." he called from the open window as he stopped adjacent to her.

She looked both ways down the street. Carefully assessing the situation. She appeared scared and unsure. He guessed she'd not been on the streets for very long. Eventually she took a few steps forward, still nervously glancing up and down the street.

"I have an apartment not far from here. Warm food, warm bed." Lellevoire said producing a roll of cred-notes. They were all low denomination but the cash looked impressive from a distance.

The girl didn't move.

"Up to you." he said leafing through the thick wad.

"How much?" she asked in an unsure voice.

"How old are you?" he asked in reply.


Lellevoire laughed.

"Darling. If you are 18 then I'm President Jacus Roden. How old are you really?"

"16" she whispered.

"Really?" he ask. She stared at the ground and nodded.

"500 credits." he said casually.

He saw her face light up, she tried to hide it, but there was no mistaking that look in her eyes. 500 credits was a fortune to these girls and was generally seen as enough to get off the streets unless you shot it up your nose or into a vein. With that money you could get a cheap room for a couple of weeks, some new clothes and therefore potentially a job. It was a sizable amount of money. Still she hesitated. Lellevoire guessed she hadn't sold herself yet. This was getting better and better he thought.

"Last chance." he said hoping to force her into action. He eased the throttle so the car rolled forward slowly.

"OK" she said sadly and got into the passenger side of his vehicle.


Lellevoire's local apartment was sparsely furnished. He paid cash monthly and used a false ID to rent it. If anyone ever found out about the place he'd say it was for an undercover operation. He'd even created a false file back at the station. A fake tip on a drug-running operation in the warehouse opposite the apartment. He'd added in something about the snitch saying they had a source in the department. If the apartment was traced back to him he had a rock solid alibi why he was renting it and why nobody else on the force knew about the operation.

He was in the small kitchenette heating a Quafe Mini Meal in the rad-heater. He'd eaten back at the station so this was just for her. He could hear the shower still running. He'd showered when they got back leaving her to watch the small holoprojector. After he'd finished and wrapped himself in a towel he'd told her to clean up and handed her a robe.

He put the steaming meal on the table as she came out of the bathroom. Her hair was wrapped in a towel and the large robe engulfed her small frame. Lellevoire gestured for her to eat. She sat down and started to devour the meal. She was obviously very hungry. She occasionally glanced at the 500 credits on the table as she ate. 

As she finished he sat down next to her. He felt her tense up. She was scared. He picked up the money and handed it to her.

"Here, this is yours"

She held onto the money tightly as he slowly pulled on the belt of her robe opening it up. A single tear running down her cheek.


Two hours later Lellevoire finished filling the bath. He left the bathroom and went back to the bedroom. The girl was still asleep. He gently shook her.

"Come on. Lets get you cleaned up."

She looked at him confused through sleepy eyes and stood as he took her hand and led her into the bathroom. He carefully lifted her into the warm water. She slipped down into the bath tub's scented water. Lellevoire smiled at her before grabbing her throat and pushing her under the water. She thrashed and struggled but it was no use. He knew what he was doing. He had done it many, many times before. The travel trunk was already in the corner of the bathroom. He'd put the body in there after and then take it to the car. Then it was a three minute drive to dump her corpse off the nearby bridge. Another runaway who couldn't cope with life on the streets anymore had taken her own life by jumping into the freezing river. He couldn't risk letting them live. One or two recognizing him would be laughed off as crims trying to frame the police chief. But if several made the same allegation people might start asking difficult questions. No, once he'd had them, they needed to disappear for good. After a minute the struggling slowed. After two there was no movement. He kept her head under for a full five to be sure.

He was dragging the heavy trunk across the living room when there was a heavy knock at the door. He walked over and opened it a crack. Two of his officers were stood there.

"Chief." one said.

"Officer Buillaerdt, what are you doing here?"

The two officers glanced nervously at each other.

"I think I better answer that." said a woman's voice.

Lellevoire saw a suited woman in her early 30's. She flashed a badge.

"Ident Barcier from I.A. Can I come in?"

Lellevoire swallowed hard.

"No. What's this about?" he asked blocking the door.

"Look Chief Lellevoire. I've had a really bad night and really could use a sit down. I'm been cloned into the body of a young girl, spent several hours shivering on a freezing street, been picked up by a sicko pervert, had some pretty boring, uninteresting and generally dire sex and then I was murdered in a bath tub. So if its all the same to you, I'm coming inside."

The Chiefs legs nearly gave way. He backed up into the apartment and the woman entered followed by the two officers who blocked the door.

"The Templar Prototype implant is a nightmare to get official clearance to use." Ident said settling down on the sofa "So much red tape. Also clones are ridiculously expensive! However given the way these murders were being investigated we were pretty sure someone in the force was behind them. The head of AI needed to shuffle the budget and call in some favors but we got there".

Lellevoire slumped in his chair. He'd heard about these implants. Used by Cloned Soldiers, they transferred the consciousness at the moment of death to another clone. Unlike traditional cloning technology it didn't need the user to be completely immobile or use large neural scanning equipment.

"You know this will be the first time in the Federation a murder victim will present evidence at the murder trial." Ident said with a laugh. "Problem is with me giving evidence is that the prosecutor needs to think whether we can actually charge you with anything from tonight. Oh I'm sure now we have sufficient evidence to get warrants we'll be able to track your car and datapad movements to each girl we've fished out of the Halala river in the last year. Oh an nice fail by using scented bath oil when you drowned them. I'm guessing we'll find that brand in the lungs of all the victims right?"

A man in a uniform entered. Lellevoire glanced at him but didn't recognize the insignia.

"Where is the implant?" he asked in an urgent tone.

Lellevoire just stared at the trunk in the middle of room.

"I think you'll find the clone in that trunk there. Lellevoire, this is Commander Chalir Jasson from Concord Special Operations Division. They loaned us the implant for this operation. As it is Empyrean technology the Commander has had to accompany it everywhere."

Lellevoire said nothing. He was numb. He was finished.

As I was saying, the City Prosecutor is thinking if we can actually charge you with anything for tonight's little activities. Its quite fascinating when you think about it. You had sex with a clone that was only one week old even though it was grown to resemble a teenage version of me. Do we go on the age of the clone? In that case every capsuleer in New Eden would have to be arrested if we went on clone age! How about the mental age? The consciousness in the body was that of a 30-something grown woman. So is that statutory rape? Is it sex with a minor officially given it was me inside the body? Then you killed it, which is the bit that really makes your brain ache. My consciousness was transported to a new clone of my older body and I'm alive. So did you actually murder anyone? Yes you killed that clone, but I'm alive and I was that clone so nobody died. Geez, just imagine a jury trying to wrap their heads around these issues. Its up to the prosecutor but I'm going to recommend we just use tonight to prove what a fracking perverted monster you are and charge you with the other murders that can be pinned to you. Its been a long night. These two officers will escort you home, and I'm not talking about the place where your wife and kids are. We've got you a lovely new home on asteroid penal colony X43-G, after the judge denies bail at your hearing tomorrow of course."

Lellevoire stood emotionless and was promptly cuffed and escorted away.


"You cannot do this." Lellevoire whispered. He jumped as another heavy gate crashed closed behind him. They stopped before another barred gate as the warden opened the lock with the DNA scanner.

"Sorry 'Chief' there are no solitary cells left so you're in general population. With any luck no one will recognize you!"

Lellevoire looked in horror as they stopped at the last gate. The inmates were all looking at the newcomer as the guards opened the final gate to the central recreation area.

"Look, your trial is in three months. From what I hear its open and closed but your brief might be able to get you sent to a special unit for your own safety. Keep your head down for 12 weeks and for your sake don't mention you are a disgraced police chief and a kiddy-fiddler." the guard told him loudly shoving him into the room.

Lellevoire looked at him in horror. It took him a few seconds to realize the entire room had fallen silent. He turned around slowly as he felt a presence behind. Two huge muscled Matari Brutors stood too close, looking down on him.

"I'm first" said one.

"No way man. You ruin them with that thing you're packing. I'm first while he's still tight."

"Yeah, not many asses can take the Ragnarok!" the hulking man replied laughing and grabbing his crotch.

Lellevoire want to cry.

"I'll go first and give you three packs of smokes." said the one to the left.




A muscled armed grabbed Lellevoire by the shoulder in a vice-like grip.

"That ass better be worth four packs you sick nonce pig!"

With that Lellevoire did indeed start to cry as his purchaser led him towards his cell.

Wednesday, April 15, 2015

Boosters - On Grid or Off?

The good old fleet booster debate was going on last weekend on Twitter. Should they be on-grid or remain off-grid? CCP has said that making them on-grid only is fraught with technical challenges. In my opinion they will also become the new Falcons. Primary for everything. To be honest we don't need to spend a huge amount of time and resources fixing the on/off grid problem. There are plenty of mechanics already in game we can utilize to 'fix' off grid boosting.

So what is the problem?

Some see it is a problem others don't. Its the old Eve-O way, there is always a better way to pimp your ride.

You bring a T1 frigate, I'll being a faction frigate. You fit T1 modules, I'll fit T2. You fit T2 modules, I'll fit Faction Modules. You fit Faction Modules, I'll fit Deadspace Modules. You pop a standard pill, I'll pop a strong pill. You fit low-grade implants, I'll fit high-grade.

The issue with boosters is they cost nothing and don't show up on any killmail. Therefore you are getting a massive boost with minimal risk. How big a boost? Lets get Drack into a Hookbill. First I fit it standard, mostly T2 with meta scram and double web. A typical fit.

Normal Fit (empty head)
146hp per 3.0 sec repped (48.66 per sec), 2712 EHP, 1262m/sec, 8.6km scram, 10km webs.

Same Fit (empty head) with Command Ship Booster
146hp per 2.2 sec repped (66.36 per sec), 3449 EHP, 1421m/sec, 10km scram, 12km webs.

So can I get an unboosted ship to equal those stats by upgrading the modules?

A full set of high-grade Crystal implants I get 224hp per 3 sec repped (74.66 per sex) - However if I get podded thats two and a half billion ISK down.
A Republic Fleet Warp Scrambler will give me same point range... for 140m
Two Caldari Navy Stasis Webifiers will give me same web range... for 80m
T2 extender rigs give me 2,818 EHP, nowhere near the boosted 3.5k... for 12m
A Gistii A-Type AB will give me an extra 2.5% on my unboosted speed... for 35m

I'm on my way to spending 3bn ISK on implants and modules and got... well an overpriced pod and Hookbill that is not as good as the 30m ISK one with a fleet booster by a long way. It reps better, but has less EHP, far slower and equal ewar.

In massive fleets battles on grid/off grid boosting is not an issue as both sides will probably have them. The main complaint about fleet boosters is how they effect solo and small gang warfare. In many situations like this the booster is parked on a station, gate, POS or safe spot and acts as a force multiplier with little or no risk if you are doing it right. The POS issue has been practically addressed last year when CCP stopped them activating inside a forcefield. To be honest I'd like to see CCP go a step further. Here are some 'easy' fixes for off-grid boosters if the on/off grid is a technical challenge.

1. Give Warfare Links 'Weapon-like' Timers
If you activate them, then you have to shut them down and wait a full minute after they stop before you can jump or dock. That really creates an issue for those 'soloists' who park their booster alt on a gate or station so they can jump through if someone aggresses them.

2. Make Warfare Links like Cynos In Regard to POS bubbles
You cannot activate them too close to the forcefield. This stops the link ship orbiting 100m outside the shield ready to duck in at the first sign of trouble. This will require them to be a bit further away from the safety net of the shield and putting them at greater risk. Obviously this will be automatically solved in 2015/16 with the removal of POS' (and therefore force-field bubbles? Something to think about with regard to the new structures).

3. Give Warfare Links a Mahoosive Signature Bloom When Active.
When active make warfare links give MWD style signature blooms making them a lot easier to probe down. Lore wise this can be explained by ships broadcasting huge amounts of data to the fleet members. This will make them very easy to find.

4. Put them on Kill Mails
Now this is likely to be more difficult. Same issues for logistics, did they ever sort that? If it was made so that if a person is on a KM then anyone who provided boosts to that person during the fight also appears on the KM. I'm guessing a lot of l33t solo guys may not want it revealed that they are not solo.... or l33t.

A few potential ways off-grid boosting could be made more balanced in terms of risk.

Monday, April 13, 2015

BB63 - Paint Me, Like One of Your Gallente Girls

Welcome to the continuing monthly EVE Blog Banters and our 63rd edition! For more details about what the blog banters are visit the Blog Banter page.

* * * * *

Super Kerr Induced Nanocoating, new structures that can be fit like ships with modules, the promise of player built stargates... the ability to shape your space and change the look of your ships is finally coming to EVE. What other customization options of EVE would you like to have? What would you like to do to be able to shape space and environments? What would you like to change just for you in the client or in any 3rd party tools?

Let your desires run free in your imagination.

BB63 - Paint Me, Like One of Your Gallente Girls

We need to be careful with too much player customization. TTP for the Thorax is likely to be in the region of 3.65 seconds. CCP Punkturis will have a Hello Kitty skin in less time than that. We cannot give players full control over ship colours and the like, but we could make some improvements.

Rigs are the Millenium Falcon-esq customisation of New Eden. You take scrap parts from wrecks (salvage) to bolt them onto your ship. How about rigs showed up on the ship model. For example ACRs and CCCs result in cable runs snaking over your hull? Probably be a bit hard to do, but it would add an extra level of realism to rigging your ships!

Go Faster Stripes
As already stated, we cannot give players full control of ship colouring to prevent eye-sores flying around New Eden. However, what about decals and stripes? May be we could have a set number of colours we could use too (excluding the aforementioned Hello Kitty Pink ofc). Not full customisation of ship skins but a selection of different stripes and colours to provide uniqueness. These could be saved as official corp/alliance skins?

Corp and Alliance logos are an obvious one. However we really need to think about how we look at our ships. Would we be looking at or logo's that closely?

We already know the Advertisement Array will allow for flag planting and epeen waving. However the same should be done for all arrays. From drilling platforms to a one-man corps small offices. The colour, decals and most importantly, the logos should be flown with pride.

Then we have the CQ. I think we are far enough from post Incarna to look at some extra things here. Plus the missing social interaction will drive NeX sales. Rather than ship spinning you could hang out in the bar with your corpies waiting for the fleet to get ready.

This would make entering the CQ worthwhile. Who spends any money on vanity items really for their toon when nobody sees them? By encouraging social interaction you also encourage spending. More money for CCP is a good thing for Eve. With the new structures coming this could be made a thing!

In the CQ?
Custom furniture and decorations. Certificates to hang on the wall relating to skills? Trophy's of past battles? Propaganda posters for your corp or alliance?

In the Bar?
In NPC stations we could have corporation only bars to limit numbers. Enable customization to allow anything from a Matari Miners bar (space red-neck?) all the way to Amarrian Wine Bar (classy!)????. In player stations the sky is the limit.

There are options for customisation. However, given how we play the game the most visible ones will be outside the ship.

Sunday, April 12, 2015

SCASSSS - Framing Rixx

Finally found a shop with Rixx Javix poster sized frames! Out here in the desert it can be a bit tricky finding stuffz. Somethings are easy, sand and camels for example. Some are very hard, like poster-sized picture frames. Anyway, today I came across a shop with the right sizes! The other so called 'artwork' was ripped out of them and replaced with important internet spaceships.

Here they all are, ready to go up on the wall after the AC service guys have been in the week.

GP the cat likes Hurricanes apparently.

Friday, April 10, 2015

Brew Eden - Gallente vs Caldari

Fiction Friday! Escape pod here.

Brew Eden - Gallente vs Caldari

Deni sat down at her desk, she was tired. The large office was quiet at this late hour and she'd been on her feet most of the day.The Nugoeihuvi Brewing Company had been selected to create a new beer for the State to enter into a brewing contest between the four empires of New Eden. As Head of Beverages it was her job to make sure that they won. She glanced at the clock on the wall. 22:45 station time. By the time she'd checked her messages and approved the next few days roster it would be close to midnight. Then she'd have to get back to her modest one-bedroom apartment on station and then be back at her desk by 06:30. Such was life for a worker in the Caldari State.

Deni opened her messages. She spotted it immediately. Another from her secret admirer. The messages had started two weeks ago. At first she had thought about reporting them, getting the tech guys to hunt the person down. However she had not. The messages were romantic, kind, loving. She'd ignored the first few, but her admirer had persisted. It was clearly someone in the company using an anonymous mail address. They knew too much about her day-to-day life so had to be someone she worked with, but who was it? None of her co-workers had given her any hints. This was unsurprising given the strict corporation policies about co-worker relationships. Basically you could have a love-life or you could work for the corporation, not both. Deni quickly fired off a flirty reply with a smile on her face.


The starship shuddered as the acceleration gate grasped hold of the vessel. Immense magnetic and gravimetric fields aligned the small ship before hurtling at the speed of light into the black void. This was an area of deadspace. A natural phenomenon where subspace interference did not allow formation of a depleted vacuum bubble. Therefore standard warp drives did not work in these areas. The only way to travel faster than light in this space was by using an acceleration gate. As these created choke points, it made facilities in deadspace easy to defend.

Gaull patted the briefcase he held securely in his lap. The Quafe executive had bargained hard for the samples he carried. Some of the finest hops from around New Eden. Surely the mega-corporation's brewers could do something special with these. He glanced around at his two 'assistants' who smiled seductively at him. Gaull smiled and nodded to them before he turned his gaze out of the small window of the executive shuttle. The ship had started to slow and it was dropping back to sub-light speeds. 4th dimensional drag slowing the craft so it stopped accurately within a 4km 'landing area' after being propelled over 100,000km in seconds. An imposing Megathron class Battleship dwarfed the tiny shuttle he was in. They were taking no chances. The Quafe Corporation were the biggest drinks manufacturer in the cluster. They were going to win this competition for the Gallente Federation. The shuttle engaged its thrusters and headed towards the small research outpost.


Next morning Deni arrived at the station brewery with a smile on her face. A dozen red roses had been delivered to her apartment during the previous day. Fresh flowers were expensive and in short supply on a Caldari space-station. Whoever her secret admirer was, he was keen.

Her first task was to check the four potential ales fermenting in the laboratory. The huge shining silver tanks reflected her image and she stopped for a moment, gazing at the Caldari woman staring back at her. 38 years old, never married and somewhat plain looking. Short black hair, a shapeless frame and a number of centimeters too short in her opinion. She sighed wearily. Whoever her secret admirer was, he had bad eyesight or this was some sick joke, probably played by those assholes in marketing. She knew most people saw her as a "Plain Jane" which was the one thing that troubled her about her secret admirer.

After sampling the brews in the four tanks and making some minute adjustments to the fermentation temperature she returned to the office. Logging onto her terminal she saw another message from the admirer.

"Beautiful Deni. I cannot go on any longer admiring from afar. I have booked a room at the Grand Nikko Hotel on deck 14. Room 223. I will be there at 2000 hours station time. I'll set the room code as 707070. If you do not come then I will know and you will not hear from me again. All my love. X"

Deni's eyes went wide. Was this really happening? Was it true love or a cruel joke. She glanced at the clock. She had plenty of time to debate that.


The scientists at the facility had received the hops with excitement. This was a facility that was famous for blending science with art. The secret site would see the creation of a new ale that would walk away with the grand prize at the Yulia convention he was sure. Gaull reviewed the latest news on his datapad sipping a vodka. News was perhaps the wrong word, intelligence was probably better. The Amarrian entry had been completed but their Master Brewer had been killed in a mini uprising by some slaves. The Matari competition leader was at death's door. An assassin with a poisoned blade had got him. The radioactive weapon made it sure that not even cloning his body could not save him. The radiation in his blood making a successful brain-scan an impossibility. His informant couldn't confirm it, but he was certain the assassin was Amarrian. Those two Empires had seriously damaged each others chances and left it in what he considered a two-horse race.

Now if only the Caldari's entry to the competition would have something go wrong they were home free.

Gaull finished his drink and left the outpost's modest bar on deck 2. The quarters he had for the night weren't very fitting for an executive of the Quafe corporation but would have to do as he had more meetings in the morning. He acknowledged that this was a deadspace research and development facility and not designed to accommodate people of his stature. He was used to five star service. He smiled as he neared the room. Knowing that the room wouldn't be up to his usual high standards he had taken steps to ensure the visit was not a total hardship. The two 'assistants' he had arrived with weren't Quafe Corporation employees. They were Satelles Girls' booked through a very exclusive agency. Hiring these women for two days was expensive, but he knew it was worth it. He would be having a very good time tonight.


Deni stopped at the hotel door and paused. What was she doing? Was she mad enough to actually go in there? She took a deep breath, hoping to slow her racing heart. It could be anyone in there from one of the company Executives to one of the cleaners. It could also be a joke. Love, disappointment or humiliation could be behind that door. She pulled at her short dress to straighten it. She only ever wore Caldari style trouser-suits and was unused to her current attire. The dress she was wearing had been hastily purchased on her way home. Something appropriate for a tryst with a secret lover she had never met. She wiped her sweaty palms on the material. With a trembling hand she extended a finger towards the door's keypad. Slowly and methodically she pressed the buttons until the door clicked and swung open. The corridor into the hotel room was short, but she took her time. The edge of the bed could be seen from around the corner. The rumpled sheets indicted there was an unseen person laying on it. Deni's breathing was quick. She rounded the corner and froze. There, on the bed, was Ulkka. The front desk receptionist from the office. She wore a short black satin nightdress and looked at Deni hopefully. There was silence as the two women stared at each other.

"Say something." the younger woman said, her voice unsteady.

Deni just stood there, stunned.

"I knew this was a mistake." Ulkka said reaching for her bag on the nightstand. Her voice sounding like she was about to cry.

"No. Wait. Just give me a minute." Deni said hurriedly.

"You wasn't expecting me!" Ulkka said. He voice still unsteady.

"I don't know what I was expecting." Deni replied "But, this was certainly fairly down the list of possibilities."

"I'll go." Ulkka sad sadly.

"Look. Just wait. This is a massive shock to me. Just give me a minute."

Ulkka sat up on the bed on her knees and looked at up Deni. Deni's head was spinning. Of all the possibilities, of all the people she could have expected, the quiet girl on reception was never an option. As she thought about it, things fitted into place. Ulkka was a relative new-comer and the messages started not long after she arrived. The looks and the smiles she gave Deni as she passed through reception. They were not what she thought. Other than one time at college, she had never looked at a woman that way.

"Say something." Ulkka said quietly again.

"I'm stunned." Deni said honestly "I really don't know what to say."

Ulkka knelt up on the bed and moved to the edge. The taller younger woman was now face to face with Deni. Tantalizingly close.

"I know I took a massive risk. I know you are unlikely to feel the same way about me. However, I had to do this." Ulkka whispered. She leaned forward and gently kissed Deni on the lips. Deni didn't respond. Her whole body was rigid.

"Even if this means I have lost my job and I never get to see you again, I had to take the chance." Again she leaned forward and kissed Deni on the lips. Again Deni didn't react or respond. She didn't move a muscle as the receptionists lips ran over her own.

"I love you." Ulkka whispered leaning forward for the 3rd time. This time Deni returned the kiss, falling onto the bed with Ulkka locked in a passionate embrace.


"SOMEONE IS GOING TO GET FRACKED OVER THIS!" Gaull yelled over the piecing sound of the alarm screeching in his quarters. The two Satelles Girls' had taken him to the edge of ecstasy but just before he tipped over, the screeching alarm had ruined everything. If this was a drill or a false alarm someone was going to get fired. And just not fired. He would make it his mission to ruin that persons career. They wouldn't be able to get a job stacking shelves for Caldari Provisions once he'd finished with them. The two women had pulled on robes over their skimpy lingerie and were waiting for him by the door. They entered the corridor together and he stomped towards the command center. He burst through the door and was confronted with pure chaos. Everyone was running around and shouting. He stormed up to the command chair.

"What in Divinities Edge is going on here?" he shouted. The facility commander snapped his head around.

"Director! What are you still doing here?"

"I want answers!" the furious director shouted.

"That is the evacuation alarm. What the frack are you doing? Get to your ship"

Gaull face suddenly dropped.

"The evacuation alarm?" he asked in a worried tone.

"Yes! The vessels guarding the acceleration gate reported a Capsuleer had engaged them. We've not heard anything for the last minute. You need to get out of here!"

"No. It must be a mistake. This is a Quafe facility. No pod jockey would attack us."

Gaull turned around to see the two Satelles Girls' walking quickly through the door and vanishing down the corridor.

"Good luck with that." he thought "The shuttle pilot won't go anywhere without me you cowardly whores!"

Gaull made a mental note to ensure that the agency sacked those two when he got back to the office.

"Sir!" one of the technicians shouted and pointed to the large view-screen. A Raven class battleship dropped out of warp-speed in a flash of light having traveled by the acceleration gate. The Quafe Megathrons moved immediately to intercept. The assembled crowd on the command center deck fell silent as the lumbering vessels opened fire.

"Put me through to the Empyrean." Gaull demanded. The commander nodded.

"This is Director Gaull Ronier of the Quafe Corporation. This is a Federal facility. Leave immediately or there will be consequences." Gaull said loudly in a commanding tone. There was a collective gasp as the first Megathron exploded under a hail of torpedoes fired from the Raven.

"I advise you to immediately disengage. Aggression against the Quafe Corporation will not be...." Gaull was momentarily silenced as the second Megathron exploded.

"Nice try you Serpentis scum. My agent told me your new trick of disguising your facility and ships as Quafe. However I know the truth and the co-ordinates were spot on. Prepare to die!" a disjointed voice crackled over the speakers before disconnecting.

"Warning. Tactical lock detected." A computerized voice boomed over the bridge.

Gaull didn't need to be told a second time and ran for the exit. The first torpedo salvo from the Raven hit seconds later. Gaull was slammed against the side of the corridor as the outpost shook. He continued to sprint towards the docking bay. He would make this capsuleer pay for this aggression. The facility shook again as another salvo impacted against the outpost's shields. Gaull kicked off his expensive silk slippers and ran bare foot. He slammed his body into the dockbay door and let out a sob as he looked through the tiny reinforced window in the blast-door. The docking bay was empty. He had seriously underestimated how persuasive two Satelles Girls' could be with a low-paid shuttle pilot who would never ever be able to afford their services.

The outpost shook again and the lights died. Dim emergency lighting flickered, hardly illuminating the long corridor. Gaull stood there in the dark, terrified. Another rumble sounded in the distance followed by a grinding of metal on metal. He could hear a quiet hissing sound in the distance that seconds later became a roar of rushing air.

Not long later, the shuttle pilot was finding out why top executives in New Eden would happily pay one hundred thousand credits per night for two Satelles Girls' and Gaull was finding out what happens to the human body in the freezing vacuum of space.


Deni entered work the next morning with a smile on her face. That night had been an experience in more ways than one. As she passed through reception she noticed Ulkka wasn't there. She asked one of the other receptionists and was told Ulkka had not turned up that morning. Deni shrugged. Perhaps she had overslept, they hadn't slept much that night. She smiled again, recalling the previous night.

She entered the main office expecting to find some of her staff there but it was empty. She herself was slightly later than usual having got little sleep and having to rush back to her apartment to change clothes. She felt a small amount of foreboding. Something was wrong. She walked down to the brewing room. The noise coming from there indicated that's where all the missing staff were. She could hear raised voices. The smell hit her first, a pungent aroma of hops. Something was very wrong. She increased her pace and entered the room. A dozen concerned faces turned to her.

"What happened?" she asked.

"The temperatures were changed. Each vat was set to 200 degrees overnight. They are all ruined. Every entry, they are gone." one of her technicians said.

"Who set them that high?" she snapped.

"You did." a stern voice behind her said. She spun around to find the CEO stood there with a face of thunder.

"I did not!" she protested.

He silently handed her a datapad. The laboratories log files were open and they showed her fingerprint was logged resetting the temperature controls. This was confirmed by a DNA scan on the fingerprint reader. She saw the time, 3am. She was sound asleep in the arms of her lover at that time. Not that she could admit that.

"That was not me." she protested.

"Luckily for you the security section appears to agree. The cameras saw a taller, slimmer female with a hooded top do the changes. However we are interested to know how she got your DNA, your access passcard and your fingerprint." her boss growled.

Deni swallowed hard.


Banniskore was sat in his office in the CONCORD station in Yulai. It had been his idea to have a beer brewing competition between the empires. He was currently very much regretting the idea.

"Four official protests before the competition has even begun?" Banniskore said looking at the big screen.

His assistant Eran sighed. "Yes sir. One from each Empire."

"And they all relate to the brewing contest?"

"Yes sir. The Matari government claim the Amarrians sent an assassin to kill their top brewer. The Amarrians then claim the Matari purposely incited a slave uprising to kill theirs."

Banniskore held his head in his hands. "Two deaths over what was supposed to be a friendly beer brewing competition? Go on, surely it cannot get worse."

His assistant gave him a look that suggested it could.

"The Gallente claim the Caldari set a capsuleer up to attack their secret development center making him believe it was a disguised Serpentis outpost. This resulted in the destruction of their research centre and the death of a high-level corporate executive as well as nearly one hundred other staff. Finally the Caldari claim their master brewer fell foul to a Gallente honey-trap and resulted in the sabotaging of their experimental drinks as well as the subsequent suicide of the master brewer when she took the Caldari Tea Ceremony due to the shame brought on from the investigation."

"I'm guessing that the evidence from all four is pretty light."

"Spot on sir. Hot air is light. Its all conjecture and hearsay. Any court would throw their cases out in the opening arguments."

Banniskore groaned. "Get me a drink will you. I have a feeling this morning is going to be a pain in the ass."

Eran walked to the door and turned his head as he exited the office. "Anything in particular sir?"

"Anything but beer!"

Wednesday, April 8, 2015

I'm Blue About Blue

No, not about these asshats for once. Its about the new SKINS.

Coming soon (no TM here, they are on SiSi) are the new ship skins that look, well, awesome. Now my favorite colour is blue. Most my work shirts are blue, my ties are blue and the wife always jokes about me and the colour blue.

There are some blue skins coming this month with the new ship skinning system to be released in the next expansion. So I should be happy right?

All awesome. So I'll love the new Kador Archon right? No. Its blue!

Wait a second Drackarn. You just said you really like the colour blue and this Kador Archon is really, really, really blue!

I know. I cannot explain it. I think it is because it is an "official" Amarrian House. CCP Fozzie appears to disagree with me.

It should be gold in my mind! The golden fleet! At Fanfest we were told that the art department are working on skins that are not tied to in-game NPC corps. Skins that just look good and not Quafe, Lai Dai, Wiryrkomi etc etc. Now a blue Archon in there is fine, a capsuleers blue Archon. I just cannot get my head around an official "Amarrian NPC" blue Archon. Its just.... wrong*. I know all the counter arguments. I know that I'm wrong. It's just... a blue Archon?????

*in my head anyway!

P.S. Yes I know Gallente ships being blue is also somewhat wrong. But.... blue Archons!!!