The Eve Online 0.0 Experiment - Post 069 - Hostile Takeover
Upon logging back in, I stared goggle-eyed at the screen as the realisation dawned on me that the station I was docked at no longer belonged to the Interstellar Alcohol Conglomerate.
The Mercenary Coalition banner was proudly flying and I wondered just who it was who had hired them to besiege The Distillery in a bombardment of violent station-stealing shock.
I quickly discovered the answer to my question
It would appear that my fearless rock excavator friends had been hired by a group called "Firmus Ixion" and had fought alongside them to conquer The Distillery.
I was relieved that they had not damaged the strip club:
Being more astonished by this than a woman who was in a jewellers shop and who, after having been offered a choice between three different types of necklace, had opted for pearl, I had no choice but to immediately interrogate the invaders:
Upon further questioning and discussion with the 110 people in Local (much to the annoyance of their commanders who wanted silence and did not get it) I then learned that FIX were friends with the Steven Spielberg television mini series "Band-Of-Brothers" and were vaguely neutral towards ASCN.
I began to wonder if this development had any connection with the war that was taking place in the deep south between BOB and ASCN, and as I adjusted my tinfoil hat to get a better view, I wondered which seemingly unconnected alliance on the map would get blown up next...
At the beginning of my adventure I did not have the faintest clue, nor the slightest interest in EVE politics, but I now found myself becoming absolutely enthralled and intrigued by the layers of history that had been blood-stainingly piled upon each other via sweat-filled years of conflict, strife, friendship, treachery, upheaval and bitter sorrow.
With the subject of death now sadly on my mind, I continued in my conversation with members of FIX, and as they were talking I recalled that when I had been flying between Maelstrom Prime and the Distillery, I had been viciously and skin-slicingly attacked by a dirty duo of dastardly devil-worshippers:
The "Imperial Republic Of The North" had bitterly destroyed my humble ship for no reason, had brutally podded me and had then shockingly teased me after bumping into me again outside the distillery.
When it happened I had informed Maelstrom of the outrage:
I now informed FIX of the harrowing incident too:
I can honestly say that it was the first time I had ever been referred to as an item of anal headgear...
What was it, that caused this mixture of joy and pain to sweep the continuum, like a monolithic intergalactic broom of contradiction?
During my short time in this world, I had encountered such great, wonderful, truly magnificent souls, who were more than willing to go beyond the call of duty to help, and to further the happiness of those around them.
However, I had also encountered a multitude of lecherous low-down wretched mutant gutter-residing bloodsuckers of the worst possible breeding, who would not know the word "courtesy" even if their family name was "Assy" and their parents, via some contrived co-incidence had named them all "Curt".
Perhaps, to appreciate joy one must first experience sadness, for something can only be truly measured in relation to its opposite.
I needed to clear my mind and to escape from this ever-escalating conflict, so I decided to do something fun and crazy. I excitedly opened my map, and for no reason whatsoever, I crazily plotted a random 100-jump course to somewhere I had never been before...
Where would I land next?...
(to be continued...)