Friday, December 08, 2006

The Eve Online 0.0 Experiment - Post 094 - Attack Of The Clones

Attack Of The Clones

I staggered out of the jump-clone unit, and I looked around myself in order to figure out exactly where I had landed. A few minutes later I regained my orientation, and managed to deduce that I was somewhere back up in the North.

As my memory returned, I recalled that I had jumped back up here in order to re-visit an area that, at the beginning of my adventure, had scared me more than the thought of spending the night locked in a room with a very randy hippopotamus.

I was then contacted once more by "Podee", who had previously murdered me outside my office, after she had set out on her own adventure over two months ago.

Since then she had been steadfastly committed to orchestrating as many of her own deaths as is humanly possible, and had now racked up quite a large tally of bitter and gruesome ends...

I flew a few jumps further to the west and landed at the ISS station "Borealis", where Podee met me, and we spent some time complaining to each other over the fact that the Revelations patch had ruthlessly removed our n00bness:

The patch had shockingly given me sufficient skills to fly a Cruiser, and I now wondered if I should take that next almighty step by getting into a large slavering beast of a machine for the first time, and fearlessly flying around in it, safe in the knowledge of my new-found invincibility...

As I pondered over this heavy dilemma, I once more met a pilot called "Sgt Napalm", whom I had previously encountered at the 9UY war in the south. Napalm is a member of ISS, and as such has a sworn duty to conduct his business in the most neutral manner possible.

It was at that point, that a spark of evil suddenly ignited inside of me, and I instantly began to hatch a cunning and malevolent plan to get ISS to shockingly break their hallowed and cherished neutrality...

I knew that in the spirit of friendship, ISS members were always willing to help others, and that in the spirit of self-extinguishment, Podee was always willing to die violently. All I therefore needed to do, in order to get ISS to break their neutrality, was to bring these two concepts together...

My devious ploy had worked, and I quickly undocked to gather the terrible photographic evidence of this amazing breach of neutral protocol.

I had caught ISS red-handed in the act of murder!


Out of a rampant attempt to bribe me, and out of the erroneous belief that he could buy my eternal silence, Sergeant Napalm then gave me a fully fitted Kestrel and a paltry bribe of a million isk, the fear in his eyes clearly begging me not to expose him...

Suffice to say, I did the only sensible thing and immediately accepted the bribe, before violently logging out of the game.

The next time I logged back in, I encountered a terrifying army of twelve clones, who were frantically flying around the system, and horrifically terrorising the poor unsuspecting locals:

I wondered what sorrowful event had transpired in empire, that had caused a dozen new players to suddenly turn to the dark side, and to leave the safety of the n00bish state war academy, in search of death and destruction in the fearless realms of 0.0.


Perhaps there were unseen forces of evil at work here, infiltrating their brains and corrupting their minds, causing them to spread the airs of discontent, like a man with a serious case of flatulence.

As I watched them leave the system in search of more prey to violently attack, I packed up my belongings and prepared for my glittering return to the heavily-guarded fortress of Emilio Estevez...

(to be continued...)

Monday, December 04, 2006

The Eve Online 0.0 Experiment - Post 093 - Breaking The Language Barrier

Breaking The Language Barrier

Like a clock handed from one person to another, I passed the time by resting my hands on my face, and staring blankly at the invisible dark matter that surrounded me.

Every now and then, a faint communications signal whizzed past me on a high frequency. Like an air traffic controller with a malfunctioning listening device, I imagined that I could almost hear the distant chatter of pilots on a collision course with their terminal destinies.

Perhaps the noises were all just radio ga-ga, radio goo-goo, radio ga-ga...

Having previously been interviewed by the EVE Tribune, and also by the hammer-clenching Viking Gods of EVE for a news article, I now found myself being offered the chance to speak live on air, to literally tens of listeners....

The thought of spewing my dulcet tones over the wireless was indeed tempting, and like a man chewing on a loud bang, I was very excited by the prospect of creating some explosive sound-bites. However, in the end I decided to teasingly retain my mystique, and to politely decline the kind and generous offer.

Some time later, I encountered several more heroic BoB pilots, and was extremely surprised to find myself becoming friends with Jennifer Aniston, whilst raiding the tombs of Angelina Jolie...

His statement had caused my mind to snatch a glimpse of a parallel timeline, where I had lived behind the dark side of the sun, in Oceans XI, Moon III - Formulaic Hollywood Blockbuster Assembly Studio, where I had felt like:

The Mexican........

......who had spent seven years in Tibet:


I had once learned that the Devil's own devices for turning a pilot astray were the seven deadly sins, which could all be found in many legends of the fall of celebrities from positions of power, to their shameful full-frontal public confessions of a dangerous mind filled with gluttony and indulgence.

I violently resolved to fight this club of overpowering instincts.

Not entirely unlike a man walking into the middle of a giant book, I then entered into another conversation, and bemusingly found myself parsleying the thyme by partaking of an oreganol chat with a very sage pilot:

The Herbster was a seasoned veteran who had been playing since the very beginning of EVE, and who had resolutely refused to train any Caldari skills, thus leaving himself unable to fly a basilisk.

Whereas most pilots spend their evenings shooting the enemy in violent fits of rage, The Herbster whiles away the hours by playing the following game with himself, whilst cooking delightfully aromatic curries:

Dill or no dill?

A few handfuls of the sands of time later, I slipped up Robert's back passage and ventured deep into his bowels, in search of an entrance to the inner sanctum of his crushing war machine.

Eventually, after finding the "Machiavellian School Of Philosophy" and stopping to talk with the brilliant evil geniuses who lived there, I made my way into the vast underbelly of Robert's mechanical inferno of doom.

A few minutes later, I gasped in utter astonishment, as I came across the immense propaganda machine at the very heart of his body of systems.

I bravely ejected from my shuttle and left them a suspicious message:


Confident that my warning would be singlehandedly responsible for stopping them taking over the whole map, I smugly docked at the Mining Coalition HQ, from where I then stylishly jumped into a jump-clone on the other side of the universe.

Little did I know, that not entirely unlike meeting a group of politicians, I would be set to encounter a terrifying army of clones...

(to be continued...)

Friday, December 01, 2006

The Eve Online 0.0 Experiment - Post 092 - Sausage Dogs

Sausage Dogs

I docked in the station adjacent to BoB HQ, and answered a chat request from a character whose name was strikingly familiar:

I pondered over this important question for a while, and although I felt like a n00b at heart, I had now explored such a large area of the map that I had no other choice but to conclude that my n00bness was probably now a thing of the past.

In recounting my travels I had previously made a reference to the television-show dog "The Littlest Hobo" and I now bizarrely found myself speaking to a strange player with the very same name, who was the leader of a corporation called the "Sausage Commandos"...

Like a campanologist who keeps hearing phantom telephones in his mind, my paranoia bells immediately started ringing, and I wondered if, in the tradition of Strongy Strong and Shaking Sheikh, yet another of my literary devices had assumed a life of its own.

However, I then discovered that this character had been created a full two days before I had mentioned the name, which meant that I was staring at an astonishing co-incidence of more epic proportions than the bosoms of Dolly Parton and Pamela Anderson combined.

I informed him of the co-incidence:

Apparently, this master of sausages considered the fountain region (which I had visited several weeks ago) to be his property, and he forthrightly demanded that I admit my rampant trespassing into his alleged claimed lands.

After informing him that I had indeed been there, but that I was under the impression that the area was free of fried pig and cow pieces, and was inhabited by Xelas and Celestial Apocalypse, he then decided to sit me down and to enthrall me with an amazing tale of espionage, deception and pulse-raising treachery.

Once upon a time, his main character was a member of Xelas...

This story was already causing me to be more enthralled than the regular clients of a dominatrix, and I immediately started to eat and drink a large variety of cinematic foodstuffs, as I listened to the exciting show:

As he continued to bark the story to me, I could feel the waves of his hostility towards Xelas flowing from across the communications channel. This was one seriously scorned pilot, who like a fiery angular afterlife, was now hell-bent on revenge for the swelling hatred he felt towards his former alliance.

He continued in his shocking narrative:

This was an incredible tale of treachery and deceit that left me reeling with astonishment. I suspected that this frying-pan conoisseur, and his band of cumberland commandos would probably be viewed in an extremely negative way by the EVE community, although he did not seem bothered by this at all.

Like Gollum left alone in a cave for a very long time, with only a ring of bitter memories to keep him company through the ages, the Littlest Hobo had been building an army of suicide pilots, ready to wreak murderous and bloody revenge upon his former friends and allies in Xelas.

Although the tracherous story had been tremendously enthralling to listen to, I worried for the safety of my friends in Xelas, whose company I had enjoyed immensely, and I now wondered if they would find themselves violently extinguished by a vengeful pork chipolata...

In a magnanimous act of fried breakfasts, he then informed me that I too could harness the power of the sausage people...

In my continuing spirit of neutrality, I wished him success with his imminent campaign, and I then continued in my fantastical exploration of the holy land of Robert...

(to be continued...)

Wednesday, November 29, 2006

The Eve Online 0.0 Experiment - Post 091 - Total Annihilation

Total Annihilation

There are many possible ultimate questions, and I took a moment to ponder over some of the more worthy candidates:

What is the meaning of life?

How did the universe begin?

What is 6 x 7?

What's the opposite of "inbetween opposite and like"?

Why is it usually he who smelt it who dealt it?

In the end, I opted for this ultimate question:

Well to say I was flabberghasted would be playing the situation down more than a pianist descending through two octaves of C-Minor in a subterranean concert hall.

The Robert Alliance had no qualms about publically flaunting the fact that their goal was nothing less than the total and utter annihilation of every other alliance on the map!

I could barely bring myself to steady my shaking pod upon hearing this foul news.

To me this was absolutely incredible. This boisterous family had publically declared their intention to own everything, thereby causing a flood of carebear refugees to partake of a grand exodus to the loving arms of empire space, with nothing more than a few Miner II lasers and some shimmering minerals to sustain them.

Why didn't the other alliances unite to eliminate this threat?

It would appear that the Band Of Brothers are an unstoppable force, set to win the map by conquest. I had only heard of Celestial Apocalypse standing up against them thus far. Perhaps there were others, although news of this had not yet reached me.

ASCN (who outnumber BoB greatly) had been suffering defeats in the early stages of the war with BoB, which was a fact that some commentators had put down to them needing time to adjust from being an industrial alliance to a fearsome fighting force. If the biggest alliance in EVE could not yet defeat BoB, then who could?

Like a man chopping onions whilst staring goggle-eyed at a country full of polygamists, I cried extensively over this state of affairs.

I munched on some chocolate munchkins and I smilingly recalled a time far back into the pages of history, where in a past life I had jumped to the defence of humanity, and had solved a similar dilemma, far off in the western spiral arm of a little known galaxy:


I immediately grabbed a pair of clippers and I cut some very sharp and piercing spikes into my toenails, in case I would ever find myself trapped in Robert's dungeons, and in need of a sharp object to sneakily pick the lock on my cell.

I enquired further about the war:

I had previously discovered that SirMolle was an anagram of "I SELL MOR", which had led me to suspect that the leader of BoB was a closet industrialist, and it would appear that Blacklight's shocking new revelation that BoB do indeed engage in industrial activities heavily supported my conclusion...

I started to relax just a tad, and I opened one of my few remaining pampering kits that ASCN had given me on my first visit to the love shack.

After then applying a strawberry leg-waxing strip to my right thigh, and sipping on an instant Moccacino with aniseed bursts, I decided to ask these people if their reputation of being crazed and deranged killers was in any way reflective of the truth:

It had been a very interesting meeting, and although I felt sad for the carebears who ultimately would find themselves brutally extinguished under the iron boots of the ever-encroaching BoB war machine, I had to admire their total honesty in publically stating their goals, and their utter determination in following through with them.

As I fired up the engines in my shuttle and left the system, I stubbed my toe on the metallic base of my control panel, and due to my designer toe-nail spikes piercing it, I ended up electrocuting myself...

(to be continued...)

Saturday, November 25, 2006

The Eve Online 0.0 Experiment - Post 090 - Delving Into Robert

Delving Into Robert

I sat back for a while on the upper deck of the Dark & Light outpost, the twinkling stars forever ejecting their enticing shards of rippling hypnotic light through the luminiferous ether in the distance.

Thoughts of sweet sentimentality and warmth gently drifted in and out of my consciousness, and I took a long moment to acknowledge all the pilots who had helped and assisted me in my flight of a lifetime through the incredible starlanes of EVE.

I sipped on a cool drink of Quafe with a dash of lime, and entered into a conversation with a pilot called "Nemon v3", who explained to me that he was the leader of the Dark & Light alliance (and also that English is not his first language).

Like a footballer with concussion, Nemon then decided to use a very bizarre analogy to explain why it is always a good thing to have goals to work towards...

I asked him how his station was faring, being wedged in between ASCN and BoB. He explained to me that their situation was actually strategically sound, due to the fact that ASCN are unable to directly jump capital ships from the "Paragon Soul" region to the "Period Basis" region.

I had enjoyed my time with D&L and the British Space Corps, and had found those whom I had met to be a great bunch of people. I finally left their space feeling very glad to have met them.

A few days later, I headed northwards in my journey towards the ancient and mystical territory of the Band Of Brothers.

During my time in EVE, no single alliance had been mentioned to me with such perpetual fear and terror than BoB. Every single pilot who had ever told me about them had done so whilst shaking even more than the Shaking Sheikh drinking milkshake at a "Shake-Yer-Booty" contest at the Shakespeare theatre on the banks of Shake Lake...

As my little shuttle sped faster and faster towards my date with Robert, I wondered how the most feared alliance in the game would react to me turning up unannounced at the walls of their gleaming citadel.

Finally, I terrifyingly arrived at the holy BoB HQ:

For some inexplicable reason my ship started violently shivering and shaking, out of a tremendous n00by fear of imminent death. The phenomenon suddenly spread from the ship to my fingers, and without thinking I frantically grabbed a blackboard in order to steady them.

This was a screeching big mistake...

I quickly logged out of the game, and didn't have the courage to come back until several days later, when my heart rate had returned to a more acceptable 90 beats per minute.

Upon logging back in, I suddenly found myself staring directly into the eyes of one of the very leaders of the Band Of Brothers. I was speaking with no other than one of the high controllers of Robert himself...

I decided to begin our conversation by shamelessly flattering him:

The leaders of ASCN (CYVOK) and of BoB (SirMolle) both now owned a Titan, and a considerable amount of fuss had been made in the EVE community over why BoB seemed more willing to deploy theirs in battle. ASCN had been more reluctant, due to the fact that the Titan is apparently bugged in some horrific manner.

I spent some considerable time talking with Blacklight, whom I was starting to like a lot. I asked him if he could teach me the history of his alliance:

BoB's situation was similar to many of the other alliances whom I had met in my travels. Even though EVE is only 3.5 years old, corps and alliances tend to have very short shelf-lives, and many alliances' histories are inextricably intertwined as a result.

I enquired as to why BoB had become so successful:

A few minutes later, I directly asked them the ultimate question...

(to be continued...)

Wednesday, November 22, 2006

The Eve Online 0.0 Experiment - Post 089 - Opposing Forces (Part 3)

Opposing Forces (Part 3)

A little while later, I entered into a sparkling conversation with a Dark & Light pilot named "Temper", with whom I eagerly discussed the thrilling BoB vs ASCN war in more detail than the invisible paintings of a molecular nanoartist:

Like a man lifting his duvet and finding a glowing golden question mark etched into his bed-sheets, I wondered if I had discovered a puzzling clue to the underlying fabric of events in this universe...

I had always enjoyed a good conspiracy theory, and as I sat there on my grassy knoll, forcefully giving myself a freemasonic handshake, I wondered if any more secrets of the universe would stylishly reveal themselves to me in an unadulterated blaze of cheese.

Temper also found himself being dragged into the conspiracy:

Perhaps all of this division and war throughout EVE was a clever illusion, designed to hoodwink the masses into complicit acceptance of the overfiends who ruled them by stealth, slowly sucking their individuality from their consciousness, and advancing their nefarious plans for eternal world domination with each and every ominous passing second....

I then made an earth-shattering discovery:

I had discovered what no other EVE pilot had ever realised, and what the loyal members of the alliance "orchestra of siblings" would never ever know:

Their leader spends his evenings refining lumps of scordite...

Not entirely dissimilarly to a woman grappling with a roast potato fresh out of the oven, I decided that this information was just far too hot to handle, and I quite sensibly decided to bury the truth in true conspiratorial fashion: by openly hiding it in full public view...

The conversation stayed with the "overlords" topic, but moved from the south to the north, when I was surprisingly asked if I still hated the low-budget comedy veteran Emilio Estevez:

Perhaps after I had explored BoB space, I would stylishly return to Venal for a trip down memory lane. I recorded a note in my journal to remind myself of my intent to nostalgically revisit Emilio's northern empire.

A little while later, another member of ASCN entered the system and struck up a controversial conversation with me regarding a topic that is dear to the heart of every young adventurer:

N00b ships

I felt like I was standing at the dawning of a new era, for I had unveiled the holy secret of the shining Ibis, for all and sundry to gloriously purvey with astonished eyes, and a warming heart.

Never again would a n00bescent player need to spend so many torturously agonising hours mining veldspar in Jita, when the inclusion of one simple mining drone in their Ibis would multiply their income to previously unsurpassed levels of decadent wealth.

I hoped that n00bkind would be enriched by my discovery.

I was so excited by this revelation that I found myself uncontrollably playing with my left nipple. I am pleased to report that I rapidly stopped myself before anyone in Local noticed my perverse activity...

I quickly covered up my shameful self-stimulation, and entered into a conversation with another D&L pilot, who had once been the subject of a classic song by Eric Clapton:

In fact, the opening verse of this timeless ditty really struck a chord with me, and promptly sent me into a melodic and sentimental analysis of my adventure:

# What'll you do when you get lonely,
And nobody's waiting by your side?
You've been running and hiding much too long,
You know it's just your foolish pride. #

At that moment I felt like the Littlest Hobo, and I wondered if one day I would ever settle down at a place that I could call my home...

(to be continued...)

Sunday, November 19, 2006

The Eve Online 0.0 Experiment - Post 088 - Opposing Forces (Part 2)

Opposing Forces (Part 2)

After docking at the Dark & Light station in E2-RDQ, I asked the residents about the structure of their alliance. The outpost itself is owned by D&L, who are friends with the "British Space Corps", who in turn have docking rights there and help to protect D&L from any rampant attackers.

Being on the edge of BoB space, this outpost is stylishly wedged in the middle of the ASCN vs BoB war, and as a result it is often subject to unexpectedly violent activity, and shamelessly exciting fights.

I was informed that, as part of the war, ASCN were actively attacking Dark & Light, and considered them to be their enemies, due to their allegiance and friendship with the Steven Speilberg mini-series The Band Of Brothers.

Like a man rearranging the letters N E E S S, I eventually made sense of it all, and was then delighted to take part in a conversation with D&L and a member of ASCN called "Psycho Lordling", who was in the process of stalking the locals as part of a vicious one-man war campaign...

We discussed the D&L outpost and the ongoing conflict in the area:

It was curious that the most effective political model in EVE was dictatorship. I wondered why this universe had evolved in such a way, and what had caused such a ruthless Status Quo to exist amongst the residents of this enchanting but bitter world.

Perhaps it is because the EVE environment is very young, and is therefore still developing and finding its feet. I found the whole subject utterly fascinating.

In a surprising, and entirely unexpected twist, the conversation then shockingly turned to the subject of BoB bondage...

I had heard mention from many quarters that all of the alliances living around BoB space were considered to be "BoB Slaves". Although I admittedly found this highly amusing, I also thought it was probably a little on the derogatory side, and I therefore wanted to make a concerted effort to discover the truth of the matter.

Like a pig celebrating its birthday, the subject became somewhat muddied, when I learned that the alliances who live around BoB space do indeed pay them a tithe to live there. However, it was further explained to me that such arrangements exist in many places in the EVE universe.

I wondered if the subject of slavery (which I'm sure my friends in CVA will be delighted to hear about...) had inspired the residents to attempt to exploit me, because no more than a few minutes later, I ruthlessly found myself sitting in an asteroid belt in an Ibis, mercilessly being forced to collect loot from the cans of one of the locals:


After dutifully completing my duty, and being awarded a "bronze tag" as payment for my wanton work, I then learned something more incredible than a discredited credit controller with serious street-cred, who had been given extensive credit for incredulously crediting himself with the incredible title of "Creddy-Weddy The Sacred."

Edster had been singlehandedly responsible for starting a war. I was totally astonished by this amazing revelation, and was almost inspired to go and start some wrecking carnage of my own.

I had previously learned that in addition to ASCN's Titan, BoB now also owned one, and had already testosterone-pumpingly deployed it in the heat of battle in an attack on an outpost that I am extremely fond of:

The love shack in AZN-D2

I wondered just how long this BoB vs ASCN war would go on for, and if there was any way that a man in a shuttle could stylishly intervene to bring fluffy peace and puppy-dog happiness to the region.

It was then that for no reason whatsoever, I amazingly failed to think of a dramatic cliffhanger...

(to be continued...)

Thursday, November 16, 2006

The Eve Online 0.0 Experiment - Post 087 - Video Interlude

Veni Video Vici

Instead of writing the next part of my adventure, I decided to postpone it until tomorrow, in order to do something entirely different...

I hereby present my first ever EVE video:


The file is a nicely compact 5.5MB in size, and is in .SWF format. If you need to download the current version of Adobe Flash Player, you can do so for free at their official site here:


The video is a little something to play whenever you need a boost. :)

I hope you enjoy it.

(to be continued...)

Monday, November 13, 2006

The Eve Online 0.0 Experiment - Post 086 - Opposing Forces (Part 1)

Opposing Forces (Part 1)

Some time later, I was contacted by a brave n00b who went by the name of Yancy Grieves. He had only been playing for a day or two but had heard of my adventures through space, and wanted to ask me for some advice regarding the scarier parts of the map:

In the end we decided it would be best for him to visit ISS first, and I was pleased to later hear that he had successfully completed his journey, and had not been horrifically murdered by merciless attackers.

Last night, after logging back in at the Mercenary Coalition, I started to think about where my fantastical journey would take me next. A large chunk of the map was still Terra Incognita to me, and there were many alliances whom I had not yet had the pleasure of either meeting or being violently extinguished by...

I eventually decided that since the MC were very close to "Band Of Brothers" space, the time had finally arrived for me to enter their vast citadel, and to seek the holy knowledge and wisdom of their infamous and feared organisation.

I informed some of the noble mercenaries of my plan:

I wondered what would lie in store for me at their hands, but part of me felt very reassured by the fact that throughout my life people had always told me that I was related to BOB, usually at the moment of successfully achieving something, or explaining its simplicity.

"Bob's your uncle" - they had said...

Safe with the new knowledge that the band of brothers were my uncle, I was curious to locate the promiscuous aunt who had been responsible for the creation of my disjointed family.

I then learned something truly shocking:

Well now I was absolutely terrified of the idea of building my own outpost! However, I did not know anything about the history of this event, so I decided that it would be best to find out what had actually caused it before making a viciously derogatory judgement on the matter...

I finally set off into the darkness of the space before me, and I observed the dots represeting BoB citadels glimmering on my map. I selected one of them, and began my journey towards the gates to their mighty fortress.

A few jumps later, I encountered a pilot from the "British Space Corps", who went by the name of "Snow Blizzard", and who struck up a friendly conversation with me.

Snow had invited me to visit his home, which was at an outpost that had been constructed by an alliance called "Dark and Light". I had never met D&L before, and knew nothing about them, so I decided to go and visit them as part of my imminent exploration of BoB space.

I received a very interesting welcome...


I wondered if I had been wickedly lured here under false pretences, so that the ravenous cads of the BSC could force me to watch digitally remastered Monty Python DVDs whilst the minions of Dark and Light kept pointing torches at my face and intermittently switching them on and off...

What kind of cruel and macabre torture was in store for me in this system at the back end of nowhere, where plagued cries of despair echoed throughout the halls of eternity, resonating in the afflicted memories of the sorrowful victims of these murderers.

Surprisingly, no torture was in store for me and nobody wanted to murder me. Snow Blizzard had been good to his word, and the Dark & Light alliance had made me blue, given me docking and clone rights, and had welcomed me into their home.

What a pleasant surprise!

After deciding to stay for a day or two, to learn about the history of the area, little did I know that I was imminently set to discover something truly astonishing...

(to be continued...)

Saturday, November 11, 2006

The Eve Online 0.0 Experiment - Post 085 - Station Master (Part 3)

Station Master (Part 3)

I logged in the next morning, and was contacted again by Siigari Katawa, who had previously attempted to sell me a Damage Control II unit for 350 million isk.

Siigari explained that although 350m had turned out to be overpriced, the item had been selling for similar prices recently. I later checked on escrow, and saw that there were now 5 DCII units for sale at 220 mil each.

In light of the fact that prices have recently been fluctuating quickly on many items, I concluded that Siigari had not attempted to deceive me, and I simply put the matter down to her not having researched it sufficiently before contacting me. I therefore considered the matter closed.

A few minutes later, I observed my fearless mercenary friends boasting about their recent contracts:

I was extremely excited about being present at the construction of their new station, and part of me started to daydream that it was them who were present at the construction of my station..

On this basis, I decided that it was necessary to go and inspect my staff at the gatecamp, to ensure they were doing the job properly.

After arriving, and giving a stiff military salute to indicate my partial approval of the rank and file, I was once more subject to disturbing romantic advances at the hands of PMolkenthin:


I must say it was extremely forward of him to make such intimate gestures towards his leader, and I wondered if such outrageous activities should continue to be tolerated in my organisation. Maybe it would set a bad example for the other troops...

Members of the alliance FIX then arrived, to assist in the gatecamp, and I decided that I would take a chance and leave them all to manage things by themselves. After all, if you want your staff to improve themselves, it is necessary to give them a little bit of responsibility.

For the next hour or so, the fearless miners moved large quantities of construction components and minerals to the now 23-billion isk "egg", which was anchored at a planet.

This was all very interesting, but ultimately there was one single crucially important thing that was critical to the entire construction project, and naturally I was the only one competent enough to bear the burden of escorting this extremely valuable component to the egg:


Having nobly and valiantly completed my duty, and having lovingly sacrificed one and a half minutes of my time for the greater good, I decided that I would leave the trivial remainder of the project in the hands of my rabble of subordinates.

We completed the filling of the egg a mere 20 minutes before downtime and I then cunningly and eagerly waited right next to it, so that I could log in and immediately claim the crown of "first to dock" once downtime had ended.

My plan was successful, and after having been the first ever pilot to dock at the station (although being the owner of all this space anyway, it was surely my right!), I then undocked and grabbed a comparison picture:


I sat back and sipped some Bollinger in my new station, whilst pondering over the amazing sequence of events that had brought me here.

Shortly thereafter, my rampant basking in my own success was ruthlessly interrupted by one of the lower ranks of soldiers from FIX:

As soon as I noticed that the man who adored me had said "our station", reality kicked back in, and my delusion ended quicker than a film that had never been made.

The event had been an amazing experience, and I felt truly honoured that I had been invited to take part in the fun and excitement.

(to be continued...)

Thursday, November 09, 2006

The Eve Online 0.0 Experiment - Post 084 - Station Master (Part 2)

Station Master (Part 2)

I headed further into Stain, and eventually entered a deserted system that contained a station with a wonderful medical bay. I quickly moved my clone there, and headed onwards into the night.

Looking out of the little window in my shuttle, I watched in awe as the reflective particles of solar wind ripped across the space before me, twisting and twirling in a grand and mysterious symphony of delight.

The vastness of space still amazed me.

As I flew ever-deeper into the Stain region, heading westward towards my important appointment at the Mercenary Coalition, I was contacted by Seleene, whom I informed of my closely-avoided death at the hands of the evil podder from the "Silver Star Federation":

There was an intriguing allure to the idea of hiring vicious mercenaries to destroy those who had previously harmed me, and I wondered if the slight desire for retribution that I was feeling was a natural characteristic, or if my experiences in 0.0 had changed me into a harder man.

I was surprised to then learn that Mercenaries could be hired for as little as 1 billion per week for smaller operations, which meant that hiring groups such as the MC could certainly be a possibility in my future:

I flew on, further and further into Stain, my thoughts turning to what exactly I was in this world. I had been to so many different places, and met such a large number of people now, that I was beginning to question who I really was, and what my role should be in this strange and fantastical land of opportunity.

What makes me who I am?

As I flew through the final systems to the Mercenary Coalition, I began to conclude that despite the occasional desire for revenge upon those who had attacked me, by my very nature I felt like I was a carebear.

Despite my attempts to be neutral, there was something inherent inside of me that had caused me to reject the idea of violence, and to side with those who renounced it.

Perhaps this was why I had stayed in my shuttles for so long, and had not wanted to become a "normal" player. Maybe this was also the reason that I liked the MC. In a world filled with violence and despair, at least they were loyal to their clients, even if their jobs often involved violently destroying others who had done them no harm. My label of "noble scum" seemed very appropriate.

On the other hand, perhaps I had undergone a fundamental misunderstanding of the nature of combat in EVE. What had particularly convinced me that I was missing something was the fact that when I had seen alliances fighting each other, the parties involved always seemed to enjoy it and were mostly very polite to each other.

I liked this kind of fighting immensely.

I wondered if the fact that I had not fought meant that I was missing a part of the EVE experience. I was undecided about it, because in thinking this I was measuring myself by "conventional" benchmarks.

After all, my adventure had been something spectacularly different to how most players exist in EVE, and in a way I very much liked the fact that I had approached things in such a novel and unique way. Perhaps the truth of the matter was that I was terrified of the prospect of forming an alliance, and of developing a project to create and defend a n00b outpost.

I was afraid of failure.

After safely arriving at the MC headquarters, and unexpectedly being on the receiving end of flattering romantic advances by one of the meaty mercenaries...

...I quickly grabbed a three-hour sleep (in my own bed), and awoke at 8am to take my place at the construction of their amazing new outpost. Maybe in helping to create it, I would in some small part gain a tiny glimpse into the future, and could imagine what it would feel like to build my own home.

(to be continued...)

Monday, November 06, 2006

The Eve Online 0.0 Experiment - Post 083 - Station Master (Part 1)

Station Master (Part 1)

The next time I logged in, I was still in my safespot at SMASH Alliance. I then lovingly podded myself in a truly stylish fashion and spawned back at FDZ4-A, where I purchased another shuttle.

Several days earlier, I had received a covert invitation from Seleene (head of the Mercenary Coalition) to be the guest of honour at a very secret and exclusive event. I was extremely excited by this, because it would enable me to watch something more extraordinary than a man who had no fingers attempting to forcefully give himself a manicure:

I had been invited to help construct a brand new MC outpost

I hurriedly used my jump clone in Ushra Khan space, and then plotted a 60-jump course to my destination: an event that I was even more excited about than the capital ships parade I had been given at ASCN.

I suddenly received a mystery evemail from an apologetic shuttle vendor:

I had always suspected that these merciless 0.0 traders had been ripping off poor young adventurers, and now I had cast-iron proof of their extortionate transportational treachery.

How dare they!

I began my flight from Unity Station towards Stain, with the intention of then using my instas for the rest of my journey to the edge of MC space.

However, several jumps later, I entered a system where there appeared to be a large number of terrifyingly ravenous pilots, whom upon having their bios inspected by me, started giving off ominously silent signals of hostility.

I had run straight into the ebil and dastardly minions of a group that were more hated and despised by carebears than a genuinely nice man with a normal-sounding name like Arthur McFredric, who hated crime and had misguidedly changed his name to "Hate Crime", only to find that the meaning was completely lost on everyone he met.

I quickly turned around and jumped back into the previous system, where by an astonishing co-incidence, I met a pilot called Arthur McFredric who also happened to hate crime...

Arthur was a member of CVA, who despite ruthlessly and menacingly keeping slaves to do their every bidding, were friendly to me and had been kind and helpful to me in the past.

Arthur then provided a solution to my problem:

After we had ganged and he had ejected the instas in our safespot, I returned to the system next door and quickly used them to fly through the next few jumps towards my final destination.

Luckily there had not been warp bubbles on any of the gates.

I finally reached a system in Stain that contained an NPC station with a medical bay. I got as close as 7km from it, when two emotionally deficient military rejects who went by the names of "Qrusher" and "Horza", decided to attempt to horrifically kill me:

Clearly these brain-dead morose nose-picking dumb-witted bullies, who sit at home at the weekends playing with themselves in front of the classic film The Sound Of Music, and who are ardent collectors of a 52-part weekly publication entitled "The Smells of Britney Spears", have nothing better to do than to incompetently train their pathetically mismatched artillery at hapless young adventurers.

As I bravely flew away to somewhere random, I laughed raucously at the fact that not a single one of their wimpish shots had so much as grazed me.

My n00bish shuttles had been shot at so much during my adventure, that I was beginning to seriously wonder if I should just dispense with them altogether and use an entirely different method of flight instead:

With 35 jumps to go, and still not having moved my clone from Unity, I began to doubt if I would ever make it in time for my guest appearance at the Mining Coalition...

(to be continued...)