The Eve Online 0.0 Experiment - Post 050 - Peas In A Pod (Part 1)

Peas In A Pod (Part 1)

I forcefully resolved to cast asunder the feelings I still held for Missytrex.

Part of this horrid emotional quagmire had stemmed from the guilt I had invariably felt at having engaged in lusty romps behind her back with the young strumpet Frivolous.

It was then that I was contacted by a pilot called Alekseyev, who wanted to offer me some very helpful advice on how to learn more about constructing a stunning and mystifying station in 0.0.

I had spent the night thinking about this exciting subject and was now becoming severely convinced that just maybe I could change the face of EVE for the better by creating a virtual paradise where n00bs could revel and relax in luxury and joy.

Various people had told me that it is hard for a n00b to go to 0.0 without being in an alliance. Maybe I would become the pioneer who would change that and open up a safe haven.

I laughed after thinking this because I realised that a few days ago my major thoughts had been about trivial matters such as where to buy my next shuttle from, and all of a sudden I now found myself researching the technicalities of creating a station.


What a bewildering place, this enthralling world of EVE...


I asked Alekseyev if he knew of any specialists that I could speak to:



The "ISS" had been mentioned to me many times in the past by other pilots during my journey. I also knew that they were liked by my friends in ASCN, so it would seem to be a prudent place to visit to gather more information about just how feasible this wild and crazy idea would actually be to implement.

I was somewhat concerned that even if I did manage to somehow build a station, it could easily be taken away by rampaging murderous scoundrels. However, I had been privy to some top secret information that I was sure could avert that very thing happening:



It would appear that the viking Gods of EVE were able to enforce ceasefires! The joy I expressed at this discovery was truly unsurpassed!

All I need to do now was to go to the babelfish website and learn the Icelandic for "enact a ceasefire while I build an outpost" and my problems would all wash away like driftwood from a shipwreck being pulled by the tumultuous currents of the waters.

A few days previously, I had been contacted by a pilot who went by the name of Phyrr, who had given me some fantastic information that, at the time, was utterly irrelevant and meaningless:



He had provided me with a link to the bio of a pilot who was called "Podee" and whose sole purpose was to get podded as many times as is humanly (or inhumanly) possible:



Despite the fact that her bio stated that she wanted to hunt me down, I couldn't help but admire her insane commitment to the relentless orchestration and statistical tabulation of her own deaths.



Earlier in my adventure I had also sought out my own podding, by launching a kamikaze smacktalking mission up in the north, so it was only natural that I felt a great affinity with this mysterious and macabre pilot.

However, she had very clearly and publically stated that she was intent on bringing about my bitter downfall, so I resolved that I would do my utmost to avoid her.

I finally podded myself outside the Mercenary Coalition HQ and moved my clone to Heild. My IPO was still open and I was just about to sit down in my corporate office to check the list of new shareholders who had come on board since yesterday, when I noticed this:



Podee had hunted me down and was camping the station...


(to be continued...)