Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Drug Usage
24t a day. 24 * 200 = 4800. 5760 + 4800 = over 10k. If you take drugs 6t every 6 hrs you'll average about 200 APs per ton and thus score 10k APs per day.
If you take 4t ever 4 hrs (the most efficient method), you can average nearly 220 per ton, which means 5200 APs, or a total of nearly 11,000 APs per day.
And as I understand it, trip control does not apply to every dose of drugs taken. Basically it just extends the amount of drugs you can take before you start getting ill effects. Normally there are no penalties until after the 4th ton. so in theory, Trip Control lvl 2 allows you to take 6t every 6 hrs at an average of 225 APs per ton (or 8t every 8 hrs at 200 APs average). But it does not allow you to take more than the 1t/1hour overall rate, which means a maximum of 24t in a day. Any more and you would gradually accumulate an increasing state of over-druggedness.
If you take 4t ever 4 hrs (the most efficient method), you can average nearly 220 per ton, which means 5200 APs, or a total of nearly 11,000 APs per day.
And as I understand it, trip control does not apply to every dose of drugs taken. Basically it just extends the amount of drugs you can take before you start getting ill effects. Normally there are no penalties until after the 4th ton. so in theory, Trip Control lvl 2 allows you to take 6t every 6 hrs at an average of 225 APs per ton (or 8t every 8 hrs at 200 APs average). But it does not allow you to take more than the 1t/1hour overall rate, which means a maximum of 24t in a day. Any more and you would gradually accumulate an increasing state of over-druggedness.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Becoming a Villain: My Path into The Shadow Syndicate
Stardate: 10954.5
I have been training for the past week. Traded in the war set up of guns and special equipment for mining lasers, a large shield, and a space leech repair orbiter I lovingly named Asclepius.
Training is a boring tedious business, but necessity for survival for a pilot in my line of work. The monotonous boredom of the war dulled my skills; the endless hours of ambush, long pod rides from enemy territory back to my current homeworld, and the lengthy jumps from one part of the verse to the next. Although such moments lend me time to train my mind with studies and reading, they offer little else. Now that the war was over, it was time to restore the sharpness to the blade. But such work requires endless firing of guns, evasion, and maneuvering against euryales, medusas, energy bees, sparklers, and the likes.
Worst part is my mates from ULF were busy hunting the space lanes, and keeping me abreast of their many kills. Damn I hate skilling sometimes. Seeking a break from the monotony, I flew to the nearest star base to grab some rest and relaxation. The SB was small by any accounts, and barely had a tavern and brothel. Not much, but better than what I had in my ship.
I took a spot at the bar, and began planning the rest of my evening when this punk human kid in a Union recruit uniform stepped up beside me:
“You’re Hope Hubris, aren’t you?”
“Not sure what you’re looking for kid, but you ain’t gonna find it here,” I hissed angrily back, not even looking in his direction.
“I’m sorry to bother you, my name is …” He muttered before I cut him off, growling I said, “look kid, I ain’t interested in knowin’ anything about you. I’m just passin’ thru, ya hear? Now take off, before this gets ugly.”
Red faced, the kid stammered, “I’m sorry Mr. Hubris, I just wanted to buy you a drink, but I will go…” Cutting him off a second time, I replied, “Hold on boy, you should’a led with the drink. Pull out your money and take a chair.”
Nearly an hour later, the kid got up the nerve to start asking me personal questions. Seems he had been flying about the verse for more time than it looked. He tried the different factions before settling with the Union. Now he was thinking about joining the Shadow Syndicate. My membership in TSS is well known, or at least part of the public record, so I don’t deny it. But I also don’t talk about the details of TSS. No one does really. It isn’t that I am afraid Harrison Straw and his ilk, TSS just isn’t something you talk about, whether you are safe alone with a friend or in a crowded bar. I mean, what do you say, “so this one time, when I was engaged in an act of piracy or blowing up a star base or making illegal drugs and testing them on slaves or procuring and trading slaves.” Somehow, these subjects just don’t come up in polite conversation.
Hence when the kid steered the conversation toward TSS, I wasn’t really interested in going further. I am not looking for an apprentice, and openly talking about TSS activities just isn’t in my nature. But the damn kid was just so intrigued by it all, like TSS members were heroic or something. In the end, I told him one story and then went to experience the wares of the SB’s other entertainment establishment.
My story with TSS begins simply. It was back when I was still a member of Three Colours and flying a Pelican named The Jack Crow. I hated that damn ship. It was a death trap. Given to me by a ska’ari. Note to self: never take anything freely given by a ska’ari.
At the time, I was just getting started in the verse. I had little money, but lots of contacts, which explains the free cargo ship. I was moving drugs out of split to whatever customer paid the most. It was good money and constant work, although it only came a little at a time since my hold was small. I was the public face for the drug operation, so I was a little surprised when I heavily encrypted message pinged my communications during one of my trips to the South Pardus Rim.
When I finally got the message decrypted, I found nothing interesting. Some fella named Harrison Straw was calling me outlaw and offering me a spot in his shadow organization. Now I am always happy to earn some credits, but suggesting to me that can come from things like causing mayhem and destruction in the verse or repressing the noble and powerful or exploiting the weak is ludicrous. My adopted father instilled in me a genius notion reaped from the history of his people: credits come from hard work and ingenuity, not from killing. You can only collect from a dead man once, but let’em live and you can collect forever. So saying that I was disinterested in the proposition is the best way to put it nicely, but it just so happens that I had a delivery to the same sector (Elnath) as the location where I was supposed to meet Mr. Straw’s representative.
So what the hell, I figured I would give TSS a little looksy and then go about my own business if it wasn’t gonna be interesting, and yes by interesting I do mean highly profitable. I go to Elnath sector, do my business and then head over to the planet. At the planet, I head to the market, going past the legitimate retailers and slip into black market. Outside of seeing the normal faction sleazebags and a few traders, nothing happened. I did not see nor here anything even remotely interesting, just business as usual.
Disgusted, I returned to my ship and prepared to leave. Just before liftoff, the ship just shut down and the following message appeared on the main screen:
“Welcome, Hope Hubris, I have been waiting for you!
I was told you would be interested in joining our fine organization, The Shadow Syndicate. To prove your willingness, courage, and legitimacy, I want you to perform a little demonstration for us: Fly to Tau Ceti in Tau Ceti [11,4] (Federation Human Core Cluster), a developed planet deep in Federation space, and enter its black market - all within 72 hours. Another Shadow Syndicate member will wait there for you. As soon as you arrive, she will finalize your application, and you will be welcomed into the club. Don't forget to leave that place as soon as possible - as you know anyone will be able to shoot you down there.”
What the message didn’t say, but my security sweep did reveal was that Straw and his cohorts had rigged my ship with explosives. If I didn’t complete the “mission,” I was going to be dead in space. Bastards!
Of course, I was now heading to Tau Ceti. Worried about the stability of the explosives and the long standing ire of the Scorpion Guard against me I had to carefully use the x-holes. I went to Nex-06, then on to Nex Kataam. In the West Pardus Rim, I had to engage in ambush avoidance mode. Saw Crypto, but had to resist attacking him because I didn’t want to bring undue attention to myself. I passed through the MO walls at Pass Fed 02 and slipped into Tau Ceti.
Landing proved to be a little more difficult. Either the Federation was running training Ops in the sector, or the authorities were expecting me. There were fighting ships all over the place, and they were actively stopping every Harrier that entered the area. Luckily for me, I entered just after an unfortunate sap who quickly found himself surrounded and immediately boarded. My first reaction was to turn back into the worm hole and jump out of the sector, but a ship full of explosives told me that wasn’t an option.
I would have to use subterfuge to get as close as possible to the planet, then make a run for it. If I could land, I would just leave the ship—it wasn’t of any use to me in its current state anyways. Instead of waiting to be pounced on, I sent out a priority communication beam to one the nearest nighthawk keeping an eye on the other Pelican.
“This is Hope Hubris, connect me to your superior.” I directed. One thing important to remember about military types is they are trained to follow orders. If you speak to them in a commanding voice, and act like you are in charge, most won’t question you.
“Excuse me trader, but prepare to be boarded.” He responded.
“Are you questioning a direct order? Who is this?” I replied, “Patch me through to your superior.”
“Umm, okay . . . one moment, sir.” He stammered uncertainly. The great thing about the factions is they a really good about maintaining order among their lackeys. This guy probably knew that I was full of crap, but it was safer for him to pass me along then to openly risk a reprisal if I actually was important.
“Command says to wait here, the Captain is on his way.” He intoned. “Captain? I said patch me through to your commander. Where is the admiral? Look I haven’t got time for this, those kids need the medicine I am carrying. Tell your commander to meet me planetside.” I harped back, kicking my ship into gear and heading for the planet.
The Captain’s mantis pulled up alongside The Jack Crow halfway across the sector. The pilot didn’t send a message, so I took his silence to mean they were actively searching Federation archives for any information they could find on me. There wasn’t much outside of the fact that my adoptive father was an ambassador for the Federation. Probably explains why “the captain” was handling me with so much caution. As we came into orbit, the silence on the comm channel ended, “You are directed to land on the military dock at 14375.”
Shit I thought, now I was in serious trouble. I did not want to see the commander, admiral or any other faction leader. There would be too many questions. Straw’s contact made it clear that I was not to talk to anyone about why I was in Tau Ceti, so answering questions was not going to be possible. I needed a reason to land in another location, and my only option was to fain engine troubles and then cut them off. It would mean free falling into atom, which couldn’t possibly be good with so many explosives in my hull, but Straw might detonate them at any moment anyways so it was worth the risk.
“Captain, there seems to be a problem with my left engine. Can you see anything from your position?”
“R-i-g-h-t. I don’t see anything. Just land at the coordinates trader. You wanted to see the admiral, so now you are going to see him.”
“No can do Captain. Something is seriously wrong here,” I said, cutting the engines.
“W-T-F! I didn’t see an explosion. Did you just cut your engines?” He yelled over the radio.
“I don’t think I’m gonna meet the admiral. Engines out, falling fast.” I screamed back. He followed me down several thousand meters, then pulled up to wait for me to crash. As soon as I was far enough away to make a run for it, I cut the engines back on and raced across the surface toward the main starport. I glided my pelican into the softest landing possible at high speed, gathered my wits, then popped the hatch and went for the safety of the nearest crowd. Due to my screeching halt of a landing, it didn’t take much. The Captain slammed into the star port hot on my tail, which distracted the crowd gathering around me long enough for me to slip away.
With planet security searching for me, it was no small thing to get to the black market. I made it just a few minutes before the 24 hour deadline. I never saw my contact. Shortly after entering the market, I felt a slight jab in back. I awoke, several days later, in the cockpit of a rover docked in the squad bay of the SB in Grefaho. The ship computer was keyed to my body signs, so I started it up. The main communication screen blanked out, then flashed the following message:
“Congratulations MR. Hubris! Welcome to the Shadow Syndicate. I hope you enjoy your new ship. Your harrier has been properly disposed of. I hope you didn’t leave anything valuable aboard.”
And that is how I became a member of TSS. I never really had an interest, but it has proved to be a useful affiliation.
I have been training for the past week. Traded in the war set up of guns and special equipment for mining lasers, a large shield, and a space leech repair orbiter I lovingly named Asclepius.
Training is a boring tedious business, but necessity for survival for a pilot in my line of work. The monotonous boredom of the war dulled my skills; the endless hours of ambush, long pod rides from enemy territory back to my current homeworld, and the lengthy jumps from one part of the verse to the next. Although such moments lend me time to train my mind with studies and reading, they offer little else. Now that the war was over, it was time to restore the sharpness to the blade. But such work requires endless firing of guns, evasion, and maneuvering against euryales, medusas, energy bees, sparklers, and the likes.
Worst part is my mates from ULF were busy hunting the space lanes, and keeping me abreast of their many kills. Damn I hate skilling sometimes. Seeking a break from the monotony, I flew to the nearest star base to grab some rest and relaxation. The SB was small by any accounts, and barely had a tavern and brothel. Not much, but better than what I had in my ship.
I took a spot at the bar, and began planning the rest of my evening when this punk human kid in a Union recruit uniform stepped up beside me:
“You’re Hope Hubris, aren’t you?”
“Not sure what you’re looking for kid, but you ain’t gonna find it here,” I hissed angrily back, not even looking in his direction.
“I’m sorry to bother you, my name is …” He muttered before I cut him off, growling I said, “look kid, I ain’t interested in knowin’ anything about you. I’m just passin’ thru, ya hear? Now take off, before this gets ugly.”
Red faced, the kid stammered, “I’m sorry Mr. Hubris, I just wanted to buy you a drink, but I will go…” Cutting him off a second time, I replied, “Hold on boy, you should’a led with the drink. Pull out your money and take a chair.”
Nearly an hour later, the kid got up the nerve to start asking me personal questions. Seems he had been flying about the verse for more time than it looked. He tried the different factions before settling with the Union. Now he was thinking about joining the Shadow Syndicate. My membership in TSS is well known, or at least part of the public record, so I don’t deny it. But I also don’t talk about the details of TSS. No one does really. It isn’t that I am afraid Harrison Straw and his ilk, TSS just isn’t something you talk about, whether you are safe alone with a friend or in a crowded bar. I mean, what do you say, “so this one time, when I was engaged in an act of piracy or blowing up a star base or making illegal drugs and testing them on slaves or procuring and trading slaves.” Somehow, these subjects just don’t come up in polite conversation.
Hence when the kid steered the conversation toward TSS, I wasn’t really interested in going further. I am not looking for an apprentice, and openly talking about TSS activities just isn’t in my nature. But the damn kid was just so intrigued by it all, like TSS members were heroic or something. In the end, I told him one story and then went to experience the wares of the SB’s other entertainment establishment.
My story with TSS begins simply. It was back when I was still a member of Three Colours and flying a Pelican named The Jack Crow. I hated that damn ship. It was a death trap. Given to me by a ska’ari. Note to self: never take anything freely given by a ska’ari.
At the time, I was just getting started in the verse. I had little money, but lots of contacts, which explains the free cargo ship. I was moving drugs out of split to whatever customer paid the most. It was good money and constant work, although it only came a little at a time since my hold was small. I was the public face for the drug operation, so I was a little surprised when I heavily encrypted message pinged my communications during one of my trips to the South Pardus Rim.
When I finally got the message decrypted, I found nothing interesting. Some fella named Harrison Straw was calling me outlaw and offering me a spot in his shadow organization. Now I am always happy to earn some credits, but suggesting to me that can come from things like causing mayhem and destruction in the verse or repressing the noble and powerful or exploiting the weak is ludicrous. My adopted father instilled in me a genius notion reaped from the history of his people: credits come from hard work and ingenuity, not from killing. You can only collect from a dead man once, but let’em live and you can collect forever. So saying that I was disinterested in the proposition is the best way to put it nicely, but it just so happens that I had a delivery to the same sector (Elnath) as the location where I was supposed to meet Mr. Straw’s representative.
So what the hell, I figured I would give TSS a little looksy and then go about my own business if it wasn’t gonna be interesting, and yes by interesting I do mean highly profitable. I go to Elnath sector, do my business and then head over to the planet. At the planet, I head to the market, going past the legitimate retailers and slip into black market. Outside of seeing the normal faction sleazebags and a few traders, nothing happened. I did not see nor here anything even remotely interesting, just business as usual.
Disgusted, I returned to my ship and prepared to leave. Just before liftoff, the ship just shut down and the following message appeared on the main screen:
“Welcome, Hope Hubris, I have been waiting for you!
I was told you would be interested in joining our fine organization, The Shadow Syndicate. To prove your willingness, courage, and legitimacy, I want you to perform a little demonstration for us: Fly to Tau Ceti in Tau Ceti [11,4] (Federation Human Core Cluster), a developed planet deep in Federation space, and enter its black market - all within 72 hours. Another Shadow Syndicate member will wait there for you. As soon as you arrive, she will finalize your application, and you will be welcomed into the club. Don't forget to leave that place as soon as possible - as you know anyone will be able to shoot you down there.”
What the message didn’t say, but my security sweep did reveal was that Straw and his cohorts had rigged my ship with explosives. If I didn’t complete the “mission,” I was going to be dead in space. Bastards!
Of course, I was now heading to Tau Ceti. Worried about the stability of the explosives and the long standing ire of the Scorpion Guard against me I had to carefully use the x-holes. I went to Nex-06, then on to Nex Kataam. In the West Pardus Rim, I had to engage in ambush avoidance mode. Saw Crypto, but had to resist attacking him because I didn’t want to bring undue attention to myself. I passed through the MO walls at Pass Fed 02 and slipped into Tau Ceti.
Landing proved to be a little more difficult. Either the Federation was running training Ops in the sector, or the authorities were expecting me. There were fighting ships all over the place, and they were actively stopping every Harrier that entered the area. Luckily for me, I entered just after an unfortunate sap who quickly found himself surrounded and immediately boarded. My first reaction was to turn back into the worm hole and jump out of the sector, but a ship full of explosives told me that wasn’t an option.
I would have to use subterfuge to get as close as possible to the planet, then make a run for it. If I could land, I would just leave the ship—it wasn’t of any use to me in its current state anyways. Instead of waiting to be pounced on, I sent out a priority communication beam to one the nearest nighthawk keeping an eye on the other Pelican.
“This is Hope Hubris, connect me to your superior.” I directed. One thing important to remember about military types is they are trained to follow orders. If you speak to them in a commanding voice, and act like you are in charge, most won’t question you.
“Excuse me trader, but prepare to be boarded.” He responded.
“Are you questioning a direct order? Who is this?” I replied, “Patch me through to your superior.”
“Umm, okay . . . one moment, sir.” He stammered uncertainly. The great thing about the factions is they a really good about maintaining order among their lackeys. This guy probably knew that I was full of crap, but it was safer for him to pass me along then to openly risk a reprisal if I actually was important.
“Command says to wait here, the Captain is on his way.” He intoned. “Captain? I said patch me through to your commander. Where is the admiral? Look I haven’t got time for this, those kids need the medicine I am carrying. Tell your commander to meet me planetside.” I harped back, kicking my ship into gear and heading for the planet.
The Captain’s mantis pulled up alongside The Jack Crow halfway across the sector. The pilot didn’t send a message, so I took his silence to mean they were actively searching Federation archives for any information they could find on me. There wasn’t much outside of the fact that my adoptive father was an ambassador for the Federation. Probably explains why “the captain” was handling me with so much caution. As we came into orbit, the silence on the comm channel ended, “You are directed to land on the military dock at 14375.”
Shit I thought, now I was in serious trouble. I did not want to see the commander, admiral or any other faction leader. There would be too many questions. Straw’s contact made it clear that I was not to talk to anyone about why I was in Tau Ceti, so answering questions was not going to be possible. I needed a reason to land in another location, and my only option was to fain engine troubles and then cut them off. It would mean free falling into atom, which couldn’t possibly be good with so many explosives in my hull, but Straw might detonate them at any moment anyways so it was worth the risk.
“Captain, there seems to be a problem with my left engine. Can you see anything from your position?”
“R-i-g-h-t. I don’t see anything. Just land at the coordinates trader. You wanted to see the admiral, so now you are going to see him.”
“No can do Captain. Something is seriously wrong here,” I said, cutting the engines.
“W-T-F! I didn’t see an explosion. Did you just cut your engines?” He yelled over the radio.
“I don’t think I’m gonna meet the admiral. Engines out, falling fast.” I screamed back. He followed me down several thousand meters, then pulled up to wait for me to crash. As soon as I was far enough away to make a run for it, I cut the engines back on and raced across the surface toward the main starport. I glided my pelican into the softest landing possible at high speed, gathered my wits, then popped the hatch and went for the safety of the nearest crowd. Due to my screeching halt of a landing, it didn’t take much. The Captain slammed into the star port hot on my tail, which distracted the crowd gathering around me long enough for me to slip away.
With planet security searching for me, it was no small thing to get to the black market. I made it just a few minutes before the 24 hour deadline. I never saw my contact. Shortly after entering the market, I felt a slight jab in back. I awoke, several days later, in the cockpit of a rover docked in the squad bay of the SB in Grefaho. The ship computer was keyed to my body signs, so I started it up. The main communication screen blanked out, then flashed the following message:
“Congratulations MR. Hubris! Welcome to the Shadow Syndicate. I hope you enjoy your new ship. Your harrier has been properly disposed of. I hope you didn’t leave anything valuable aboard.”
And that is how I became a member of TSS. I never really had an interest, but it has proved to be a useful affiliation.
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Father of New Keldon
The following items come from a series of forum posts during the recent EMP/Uni War 2010. During the war, I entered the EKC nearly ten times and podded 38 Imperial pilots. The posts, represent notifications I was giving to the Empire that I had not only entered their borders, but was raiding and killing without impunity. Although partly posted to aggravate and taunt the Imperial war command, these posts also acted as a boost to the moral of the Union while savaging that of the Empire.
Safe Passage to Keldon, This is so Embarrassing
First, let me state that I am incredibly embarrassed about this situation. Honorable pilots should not have to openly discuss such mundane and disgraceful topics in public. But alas, the situation presents me with no other option.
It seems that during my recent 10 day stay in the EKC, part of which I freely admit was spent in the arms of several dancing girls on Keldon and the rest actively engaged in the pillaging and killing of Imperial pilots, that I may have planted my seed and it took root. I have just been contacted by 12 different Keldon dancing girls who all claim that I am the father of their hatchlings and seek recompense. I am rather dubious of these claims, as I only recently departed (rather unceremoniously and with no thanks to Barchu) from the EKC. Nevertheless, it is imperative that I make immediate passage to Keldon and answer the legal charges of paternity being brought against me.
And thus, I have no choice but to prostate myself before the pilots of the Empire as well as the Emperor and ask for safe passage to attend to my legal duties. I realize that my name has recently become anathema to many members of the Empire. It should never be forgotten that I have openly attacked imperial pilots and proven that the Emperor and his minions are impotent when it comes to protecting the traders of the Empire (as well as impregnating the famed dancing girls of Keldon). But alas, duty requires me to put such important events aside and attend to what is right and honorable. And so I ask of the Empire, will you grant me access, or do I have to seek it out on my own accord?
Your faithful and most despised enemy,
Hope Hubris.
Safe Passage No longer Required, Ignore the Lies the Empies tell
Several days ago I respectfully asked within the Tavern for safe passage to Keldon to handle some :blush: personal business. Rather than offer me assistance or even a valid reason why such passage could not be arranged (which considering my recent attacks within the EKC I could certainly understand), yet the Emperors lackeys and sycophants responded with lies, childish stories, and ridiculous accusations.
Thankfully, my Keldon brethren within the union saw fit to assist me. Several pilots, who will go unnamed by me, broke an Imperial MO in PE6, allowing me access to Keldon and the EKC once again. And so mayhem and destruction again reign within the realm of the empire:
2010-10-06 18:39:59 Ship vs Ship Hope Hubris disengaged Qno
2010-10-06 18:33:10 Ship vs Ship Hope Hubris defeated Shirer
2010-10-06 17:03:05 Ship vs Building Hope Hubris disengaged Falco's Smelting Facility
2010-10-06 17:02:40 Ship vs Building Hope Hubris defeated Per's Smelting Facility
2010-10-06 17:00:52 Ship vs Building Hope Hubris disengaged Rickyfs's Medical Laboratory
2010-10-06 17:00:33 Ship vs Building Hope Hubris disengaged Theshadow's Brewery
2010-10-06 16:59:27 Ship vs Building Hope Hubris disengaged Asparagus's Nebula Plant
2010-10-06 16:59:08 Ship vs Building Hope Hubris disengaged Beastieleper's Electronics
2010-10-06 16:57:14 Ship vs Building Hope Hubris disengaged Red Rudi's Smelting Facility
To those who reside in the EKC, understand that the Empire cannot protect you. They are impotent before the might of dedicated pilots seeking the Empire's ultimate destruction. There is no hope, there is only destruction.
But let me assure you that I was not just engaged in fun and games. I entered the EKC at the prompting of my hatchlings' mamas, and I have spent several hours in their company (much to their appreciation). It seems that their accusations of paternity were real and so I have taken full responsibility for my hatchlings and intend to remove them to a much better environment. An act which won't be too difficult, given the present state of the empire. It is truly a sad situation, for the empire cannot protect its pilots nor their property. Worse, my jokes about the inability of my Imperial Keldon brethren to fulfill the needs of the Keldon females within the EKC was actually a reality. As the dancing girls tell it, Imperial Keldons are mere wastrel geldings who take out their sexual frustrations by bullying the rest of the verse. Such a silly Game.
An outrageous situation like this cannot continue. I, Hope Hubris, will fore swear all of the pleasures of life in several days time, and dedicate myself to the cause of destruction and mayhem within Imperial territories until the Imperial dogs/wastrels have suffered for their atrocities. I mean, let's face it folks, to fail to fulfill the fantasies of the ladies of Keldon is a crime beyond punishment. It is an atrocity so heinous that I am puking a little into my mouth just broadcasting these words. Disgusting! Sad! And just plain pathetic!
Before I engage in my crusade, I have a message of salvation for the ladies of Keldon, I will be in residence for several days before the Emperors geldings can find me and force me into action. I understand your needs and desperation. Send me a pm, and we can arrange a meeting of mutual satisfaction. All except my Dearest Twinkletoes, please understand that I must ask you to refrain from making contact, as I remain a bit sore and worn out from our last meeting. Those guns of yours really leave a mark.
Anyways, I digress, I've always wanted to fight a desperate battle against incredible odds! So here it is Empies, one Sudden Death against the Emperor's armada. Catch me if you can.
QUOTE (Twinkletoes @ Oct 7 2010, 07:15 AM)
I feel so rejected.
Dearest Twinkletoes,
I hope that you recognize that my mention of you is not a rejection so much as an open admission of your magnificence. Here it has been nearly a week since our encounter and yet I still harbor aches, pains, and scars that years of recovery might not be able to heal. If I was of the religious sort, like my fellow pilgrims among the ranks of Kai Rang, I would worship you as the goddess of war which you certainly must be, for no mortal Ska'ari could ever hope to achieve your sexy destructiveness.
Therein lies my problem, as drawn as I am to your power and valor, especially the humongous mounds of destruction that are your guns, I just am not quite keldon enough to be your equal. Thus with a sad heart, I am forced to slink away in your presence and hope beyond reason that you will not take notice of me once again and deal forth a much deserve pod ride. As much as I would personally enjoy your rancor (whip me oh goddess, whip me!), my mission requires that I avoid you.
My only conviction for the future is that one day I might dream of matching your strength, valor, and power, but alas I fear such dreams might never come to fruition and I will be forced to live within the exact position of gelded Imperial Keldon brothers--prancing about with a flaccid stick and over compensating for my own pathetic in-peculiarities.
Your faithful and obedient worshiper,
Hope Hubris
The father of Keldonia’s future.
Fear not, Ladies of Keldon, There is enough Hope Hubris to go around
After spending nearly 24 hours on Keldon doing my best to satisfy the needs of the ladies of that fair planet, I am forced to admit that the demand for my seed far exceeds all expectations. When I was re-called to Keldon by my hatchling mamas, I failed to understand how desperate the situation actually was. But rest assured that I shall service all petitioners
I know that at least a few of you out in the verse are proclaiming: "Hope, how could you miss this horrid situation" :blush: But alas, I somehow failed to notice that my Keldon brothers who are living under the Empire's tyranny had become completely and totally incapable of satisfying the needs of the Ladies of our home world. I guess that the evidence for this situation was readily apparent (as some of you have carefully pointed out), since the Imperials seem to spend more time prancing about with their flaccid little sticks talking about their past victories and the tremendous power of their big guns and missiles. Fool that I am, I never considered this.
But now, I stand before you, O ladies of Keldon, to offer assurances that I will not leave the sector before I have fulfilled the requests of all who seek my services. I know the lines seeking my services seem endless, But I promise that even if it takes me weeks, I will ignore the draw of my crusade until I have served your needs. If not for your own enjoyment, then for the needs of future generations of Keldon. Clearly, my gelded Imperial cousins are in capable of fathering a worthy progeny. And so, it is with a sad heart that I sacrifice myself (and my cause) for the good of my race, to become the father of the next generation of Keldon.
So relax, wait until you number is called, and rest assured that I shall willingly become your hatchlings' daddy, and give the Keldon people a little hope for a future.
Yours respectfully and with no tongue in cheek,
Hope Hubris.
Father of Keldonia’s future.
Let's face it: who doesn't want a little bit of Hope inside them?
Safe Passage to Keldon, This is so Embarrassing
First, let me state that I am incredibly embarrassed about this situation. Honorable pilots should not have to openly discuss such mundane and disgraceful topics in public. But alas, the situation presents me with no other option.
It seems that during my recent 10 day stay in the EKC, part of which I freely admit was spent in the arms of several dancing girls on Keldon and the rest actively engaged in the pillaging and killing of Imperial pilots, that I may have planted my seed and it took root. I have just been contacted by 12 different Keldon dancing girls who all claim that I am the father of their hatchlings and seek recompense. I am rather dubious of these claims, as I only recently departed (rather unceremoniously and with no thanks to Barchu) from the EKC. Nevertheless, it is imperative that I make immediate passage to Keldon and answer the legal charges of paternity being brought against me.
And thus, I have no choice but to prostate myself before the pilots of the Empire as well as the Emperor and ask for safe passage to attend to my legal duties. I realize that my name has recently become anathema to many members of the Empire. It should never be forgotten that I have openly attacked imperial pilots and proven that the Emperor and his minions are impotent when it comes to protecting the traders of the Empire (as well as impregnating the famed dancing girls of Keldon). But alas, duty requires me to put such important events aside and attend to what is right and honorable. And so I ask of the Empire, will you grant me access, or do I have to seek it out on my own accord?
Your faithful and most despised enemy,
Hope Hubris.
Safe Passage No longer Required, Ignore the Lies the Empies tell
Several days ago I respectfully asked within the Tavern for safe passage to Keldon to handle some :blush: personal business. Rather than offer me assistance or even a valid reason why such passage could not be arranged (which considering my recent attacks within the EKC I could certainly understand), yet the Emperors lackeys and sycophants responded with lies, childish stories, and ridiculous accusations.
Thankfully, my Keldon brethren within the union saw fit to assist me. Several pilots, who will go unnamed by me, broke an Imperial MO in PE6, allowing me access to Keldon and the EKC once again. And so mayhem and destruction again reign within the realm of the empire:
2010-10-06 18:39:59 Ship vs Ship Hope Hubris disengaged Qno
2010-10-06 18:33:10 Ship vs Ship Hope Hubris defeated Shirer
2010-10-06 17:03:05 Ship vs Building Hope Hubris disengaged Falco's Smelting Facility
2010-10-06 17:02:40 Ship vs Building Hope Hubris defeated Per's Smelting Facility
2010-10-06 17:00:52 Ship vs Building Hope Hubris disengaged Rickyfs's Medical Laboratory
2010-10-06 17:00:33 Ship vs Building Hope Hubris disengaged Theshadow's Brewery
2010-10-06 16:59:27 Ship vs Building Hope Hubris disengaged Asparagus's Nebula Plant
2010-10-06 16:59:08 Ship vs Building Hope Hubris disengaged Beastieleper's Electronics
2010-10-06 16:57:14 Ship vs Building Hope Hubris disengaged Red Rudi's Smelting Facility
To those who reside in the EKC, understand that the Empire cannot protect you. They are impotent before the might of dedicated pilots seeking the Empire's ultimate destruction. There is no hope, there is only destruction.
But let me assure you that I was not just engaged in fun and games. I entered the EKC at the prompting of my hatchlings' mamas, and I have spent several hours in their company (much to their appreciation). It seems that their accusations of paternity were real and so I have taken full responsibility for my hatchlings and intend to remove them to a much better environment. An act which won't be too difficult, given the present state of the empire. It is truly a sad situation, for the empire cannot protect its pilots nor their property. Worse, my jokes about the inability of my Imperial Keldon brethren to fulfill the needs of the Keldon females within the EKC was actually a reality. As the dancing girls tell it, Imperial Keldons are mere wastrel geldings who take out their sexual frustrations by bullying the rest of the verse. Such a silly Game.
An outrageous situation like this cannot continue. I, Hope Hubris, will fore swear all of the pleasures of life in several days time, and dedicate myself to the cause of destruction and mayhem within Imperial territories until the Imperial dogs/wastrels have suffered for their atrocities. I mean, let's face it folks, to fail to fulfill the fantasies of the ladies of Keldon is a crime beyond punishment. It is an atrocity so heinous that I am puking a little into my mouth just broadcasting these words. Disgusting! Sad! And just plain pathetic!
Before I engage in my crusade, I have a message of salvation for the ladies of Keldon, I will be in residence for several days before the Emperors geldings can find me and force me into action. I understand your needs and desperation. Send me a pm, and we can arrange a meeting of mutual satisfaction. All except my Dearest Twinkletoes, please understand that I must ask you to refrain from making contact, as I remain a bit sore and worn out from our last meeting. Those guns of yours really leave a mark.
Anyways, I digress, I've always wanted to fight a desperate battle against incredible odds! So here it is Empies, one Sudden Death against the Emperor's armada. Catch me if you can.
QUOTE (Twinkletoes @ Oct 7 2010, 07:15 AM)
I feel so rejected.
Dearest Twinkletoes,
I hope that you recognize that my mention of you is not a rejection so much as an open admission of your magnificence. Here it has been nearly a week since our encounter and yet I still harbor aches, pains, and scars that years of recovery might not be able to heal. If I was of the religious sort, like my fellow pilgrims among the ranks of Kai Rang, I would worship you as the goddess of war which you certainly must be, for no mortal Ska'ari could ever hope to achieve your sexy destructiveness.
Therein lies my problem, as drawn as I am to your power and valor, especially the humongous mounds of destruction that are your guns, I just am not quite keldon enough to be your equal. Thus with a sad heart, I am forced to slink away in your presence and hope beyond reason that you will not take notice of me once again and deal forth a much deserve pod ride. As much as I would personally enjoy your rancor (whip me oh goddess, whip me!), my mission requires that I avoid you.
My only conviction for the future is that one day I might dream of matching your strength, valor, and power, but alas I fear such dreams might never come to fruition and I will be forced to live within the exact position of gelded Imperial Keldon brothers--prancing about with a flaccid stick and over compensating for my own pathetic in-peculiarities.
Your faithful and obedient worshiper,
Hope Hubris
The father of Keldonia’s future.
Fear not, Ladies of Keldon, There is enough Hope Hubris to go around
After spending nearly 24 hours on Keldon doing my best to satisfy the needs of the ladies of that fair planet, I am forced to admit that the demand for my seed far exceeds all expectations. When I was re-called to Keldon by my hatchling mamas, I failed to understand how desperate the situation actually was. But rest assured that I shall service all petitioners
I know that at least a few of you out in the verse are proclaiming: "Hope, how could you miss this horrid situation" :blush: But alas, I somehow failed to notice that my Keldon brothers who are living under the Empire's tyranny had become completely and totally incapable of satisfying the needs of the Ladies of our home world. I guess that the evidence for this situation was readily apparent (as some of you have carefully pointed out), since the Imperials seem to spend more time prancing about with their flaccid little sticks talking about their past victories and the tremendous power of their big guns and missiles. Fool that I am, I never considered this.
But now, I stand before you, O ladies of Keldon, to offer assurances that I will not leave the sector before I have fulfilled the requests of all who seek my services. I know the lines seeking my services seem endless, But I promise that even if it takes me weeks, I will ignore the draw of my crusade until I have served your needs. If not for your own enjoyment, then for the needs of future generations of Keldon. Clearly, my gelded Imperial cousins are in capable of fathering a worthy progeny. And so, it is with a sad heart that I sacrifice myself (and my cause) for the good of my race, to become the father of the next generation of Keldon.
So relax, wait until you number is called, and rest assured that I shall willingly become your hatchlings' daddy, and give the Keldon people a little hope for a future.
Yours respectfully and with no tongue in cheek,
Hope Hubris.
Father of Keldonia’s future.
Let's face it: who doesn't want a little bit of Hope inside them?
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
End to the EMP/UNI War 2010
Just a collection of stuff from my profile which were war related and thus no longer have a place there.
Laurels of War 2010
~ One of Forty-Nine
~ Scourge of the EKC (5)
~ Father of the New Keldon (8)
~ Burner of Exbeur/Rigel
~ Forlorn Hope, PE-07 (PH)
~ The EKC Butcher (38)
~Hero of Diphda
Medals Earned (but not award-able)
War Kills
x 2
x 3
x 1
x 2
x 4
x 5
x 4
x 1
x 5
Buildings Destroyed: 5
Refuse, resist, destroy, war is my destiny,
Disorder unleashed, anarchy, war is my destiny,
Chaos A.D, war is my destiny,
Under a pale grey sky, war is my destiny!
Disorder unleashed, anarchy, war is my destiny,
Chaos A.D, war is my destiny,
Under a pale grey sky, war is my destiny!
Laurels of War 2010
~ One of Forty-Nine
~ Scourge of the EKC (5)
~ Father of the New Keldon (8)
~ Burner of Exbeur/Rigel
~ Forlorn Hope, PE-07 (PH)
~ The EKC Butcher (38)
~Hero of Diphda
Medals Earned (but not award-able)
War Kills
x 2
x 3
x 1
x 2
x 4
x 5
x 4
x 1
x 5
Buildings Destroyed: 5
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