Thicker Than Blood: Chapter Four

Six weeks ago...

The coffee sitting in the mug at his elbow had gone stone cold; Valar hadn't touched it in over an hour. He was absorbed in compiling the data he'd collected over the past month and a half. Many people had recalled his sister, some fondly, some with a touch of annoyance or disgust. Only one, a scary-looking Sebiestor with a sepulchral complexion under his black facial markings, had any clue where she might have disappeared to with her corp.

'You should maybe try Amarr space? She said something about a move to Genesis, I think.'

'Genesis...' he muttered. Val pulled up the map, his previously-used settings for system populations casting a golden glow on his face. Life away from the strict military regimen had thinned him a bit, and he'd experimented by growing a short goatee. Val had allowed his hair to grow in order to present a less military appearance; the total effect was one of a rogueish charm that women seemed to find appealing, a realisation which bemused him. Changing the map settings to system security, he focussed the hologram on the Genesis region.

'You're still up?'

Sati's voice, unexpected, caused Val to start. He turned his chair on its pivot to face her and stretched, hearing his shoulders and spine flex with a series of pops. 'Yeah.'

She stood silhouetted against the dim light from the sitting-room, leaning against the doorjamb. Her dressing-gown was secured loosely and revealed a delectable flash of skin from throat to waist. The Caldari woman had surprised him by staying after that first night, and the words Your place or mine were often the first he heard after leaving his pod for the evening. Val had long since lost his wartime wariness of her background: she was just another person, albeit one who was sexy as hell and could drive him crazy.

'You're a machine, Jack. This obsession can't be good for you.'

He shook his head. 'It's not an obsession. I need to find her.'

'Well, why don't you just bloody call her, then? I've been trying to figure you out from the start, Jack, and that's one thing that makes no sense. If your cousin or whatever is as nice as everyone says, there's no reason she'd refuse to talk to you.' Sati crossed the small room, picked up his coffee-cup and sniffed experimentally, wrinkling her nose.

'It's not that easy, she's killed everyone else who went looking for her and disappeared right afterwards. I don't want to spook her.'

'It is that easy, Jack.' Sati put the mug down hard in exasperation, sloshing a little tepid liquid over the edge onto the desktop. 'Who gave you the idea this is the only way to go about this? Someone's put you up to it, and you're just heading further down a road that leads nowhere. Who's made you do this?'

'I-' Looking up, Val saw her lips pressed into a thin, angry line; her eyes met his with all the warmth of a glacier, and just as immovable. He sagged. 'The Navy. They want her brought in.'

'The Navy.' Her tone was frosty. 'What the fuck are they holding over you?'

He looked away, staring through the holographic star-map. 'They don't trust me enough to offer a better command while my sister is running around playing pirate.'

Sati slapped him.

'I don't believe you. I thought you were better than this.'

His face stung, but he resisted rubbing the place where she'd struck him.

'Look at you! A better command? You're going to trade your sister's life for a better command from the people who will destroy her? They'll torture her for information, then publicly execute her as a warning to other pirates; if you believed the soft lies they fed you about mercy, you're a bigger fool than you look right now.

'And as for a better command? How much better can you get than what you have here? You can afford to buy a battlecruiser of your own! No waiting for somebody to tell you you're worthy of it. Personally, I'd say you aren't, but that couldn't stop you if you wanted it.'

There was little Valar could do but bear the brunt of her ire: she was right.

'The only thing holding you back right now is yourself, and I hope that's because somewhere in the back of that pretty, empty head, you recognise that you're being an idiot. I can't believe you're such a tool,' she sighed, suddenly sounding tired and sad. Val glanced up again, the mark of her hand still hot on his face. She looked close to tears.

'What-?'

'Somebody's using you, Valar. That is your name, yes? I looked Shae's background up, but... the face in your profile isn't yours.'

'Yeah,' he muttered, 'they changed it.'

Sati sighed, then sat on the edge of the desk, pulling her robe around herself. 'So somebody's got to a lot of trouble to send you out here... why? Who's pulling your strings, my dear puppet?'

He shook his head. 'How do you figure that?'

'The Navy never takes pilots back once they've left, Valar. No official military does; the closest you could get is joining one of the militias. Anyway, do you really want to go back, after all you've known out here?'

Val looked thoughtful. 'I don't... I haven't really thought that far ahead. I don't know, anymore.'

She reached over and stroked his hair. 'I thought as much. They didn't expressly say they'd take you back, did they?'

Frowning, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. 'No... I asked and they said if I failed, it would be because-' Val stopped, a horrible realisation dawning.

'You'd be dead?' Sati finished. 'Strong choice of words there, don't you think? No specific rewards for handing your sister in for a jumper trial, and termination if you don't. Why do they want your sister so badly? They never actively stir themselves to discipline outlaws unless one is sitting right in front of them with his pants down.'

Valar rubbed the back of his neck. 'Our father's involved... they said it was part his request that Shae be found.'

Sati snapped her fingers. 'Your father, what's he up to?'

Gerard Tiann was a minor functionary who'd risen from blue-collar worker to government official through determination and the sacrifice of his family life. The prestige of having both children become capsuleers in the Navy had given him a recent boost to the position of...

'He's on the Security Council.'

A grim smile spread across the Caldari woman's face. 'Sounds to me that someone doesn't like him there. This isn't about you or Shae. Imagine what it would do to him if his daughter was revealed in a public trial to be an outlaw? Even if you managed to salvage some honour from it, your father's credibility would be lost. Quite a dirty family secret, your Shae.'

Val finally allowed himself to massage his burning cheek. 'What a fucking mess. And I walked right into it.'

'You're too naieve, sweetie.' Her voice was gentle, and her smile had softened; she leaned over and kissed his forehead. 'So what now, Valar Tiann?'

The young man's eyes narrowed as he looked at the three-dimensional projection of Genesis slowly turning in the air above the desk.

'My name's Jack. And I'm tired of being played. Let's find out what's really going on.'

Next Chapter

Dreaded Pirate

The showers in the station were acting up again, giving five minutes of hot water followed by a minute's worth of icy blast. Some sort of pressure issue, they said. Ordinarily, this wouldn't bother me, but this is the one day of the week that I actually spend more than five minutes under the water.

It was dreadlocks-washing day.

I had my hair put in dreads out of sheer rebelliousness after I left the academy and joined the mercs. The picture that shows on my file is old, taken upon graduation, shiny as a new-minted penny, ready to fly in the Federation's honour. That didn't last long, did it?

It's weird, the reactions I get. People see a Minmatar with dreadlocks and they say,'Awesome hair!' But with anyone else -- Gallente, Caldari, I've even met an Amarrian with dreads -- people seem to think they'll smell, or be greasy and unwashed, or... you know, that's just stupid. It's the same damn process, it's the same damn care cycle, that everyone uses to make and maintain their dreadlocks. If someone with dreadlocks smells, it's because that person smells, not their hair. We're all human, it's not like one person has special 'dreadlocks genes' and another doesn't.

I bet nobody asks a Brutor how he gets pod goo out of his dreadlocks. I get that question all the bloody time. Pod goo dissolves when mixed with water; it's why nobody else ends up with their nice, shiny, normal hair matted with dehydrated nutrient muck after a long day.

And then of course people ask to touch your dreads and are amazed that they're in good condition. Biologically speaking, washing your hair every day isn't that great for your hair or your scalp; it's why you have to go buy that fancy conditioner to put all the nutrients back in after you've gone and scrubbed them out. Synthesised chemicals do a nasty job on your biochemistry. My dreadlocks do feel like ropes -- it'd be hard for them not to -- but they're soft, and the ends remind me of my paintbrushes (yes, shock-horror, a pirate who paints. Deal with it).

You make dreadlocks by sectioning hair at the scalp, teasing and backcombing each section together, and rubbing in a mixture of beeswax and vitamins to hold the strands together until the roots begin to grow out and lock. There's no using glue, cow-shit or other questionable materials -- those are vile myths. You can swim with them in, dye or bleach them, trim them short, and no if you no longer want them you don't have to shave your head. They react best if washed once or twice a week, and you just leave them alone the rest of the time. Spend a little time every few months making sure the roots are growing together properly, and they're happy.

Of course, the worst time is the first month of having them, when your scalp wails, 'Heeeeyyyy! You're not taking care of meeeeee! I want a maaassaaage! Where's my soooaap!' It takes time to adjust, after a lifetime of being pampered, and for the first couple weeks it does smell and it does itch and it does look horrible because your hair is full of beeswax and you can't wash it because the water runs off and you wake up with it stuck to your face in the morning and leave residue from it on your clothes. It gets better afterwards, but you have to get accustomed to not smelling like a florists' shop every day.

In the end, despite the cold outbursts, I did get my hair washed. The other women in the locker room gave me the oddest looks when I stepped out squeezing water from my dreads with a towel, and somebody muttered, 'I didn't think you could wash those...'

Typical.

Miners, '49-ers

I have a friend who's an industrialist. He's a fantastic guy, was in Atrocitas with me for a bit, and was kind enough to build my second Hyperion for me.

Today, while he was mining in his Hulk in a 0.8 system, a bunch of noobs decided to try to strongarm him.

[13:35:32] Kai Lomu > telling me i have to seek 'mining rights'

Beg pardon?

As far as I can see, it's practically impossible to stake exclusive mining rights to a system in highsec. Unless the corp is prepared to wardec or hire someone to wardec anyone who challenges them, there's really not much they can do about it.

Virtual Eclipse Industrial Technology, from what I can tell, is a corp of half-year-old nubbins getting too big for their britches. They've target-locked Kai using a Mega, a Brutix, a Wreathe and, most recently, a guy from Mercenary Raiders has joined in the fun in a Drake.

I'm actually quite protective of my Kai. So far, VEIT's antics haven't crossed any lines, but they're getting close, if the DEF3 Drake is a part of it. It's tempting to move one of my alts into his corp in order to back him up if need be ^_^

Eve Has Sound?

When I'm not on comms for deadly important reasons (see: combat, purposes for hearing the FC) I usually have some music playing. I live for music: I'm a professionally trained mezzo-soprano, perfect pitch, etc, etc. I get depressed if I've got nothing playing during the quiet times, and what I listen to can affect my mood. On my iTunes, I've set up different playlists with mood themes and specific ones for each story I'm working on.

Eve has its own soundtracks: one for travelling, one for combat. I mostly only use these when I'm on my alts, since they give me the freedom to roleplay a little, to view Eve as if I were an actor in a sci-fi drama.

Well, that is essentially what each of us is ^_^

Eve, for me, has a tribal feel: lots of djembes and doumbeks, irregular rhythms and complex patterns, overlaid with grungy guitars, airy synthesizers and introspective or rebellious vocals as appropriate. Sometimes it goes drum'n'bass or even jungle, sometimes it's more ambient with a bit of a sad touch.

My Eve playlists include tracks like Arianrhod and Sredni Vashtar by Faith and the Muse, Papua New Guinea by Future Sound of London, Above&Beyond's Indonesia, multiple songs from Loreena McKennitt, Hybrid, Fields of the Nephilim, Opeth and The Prodigy, Junkie XL and Dead Can Dance. I use other soundtracks to add an orchestral touch, mostly The Crow, The Fifth Element, Firefly (betcha didn't see that one coming ~_^) and most recently, Iron Man.

What's your Eve Soundtrack?

An Intrepid Crossing For Mr Frog

I spent this evening out in the cold taking pictures of the city with my bf, so when I finally logged in on Eve, I discovered I was nearly late to a party.

It was to be a nullsec roam... anyone who knows me will know I despise nullsec, and generally tend to take small, cheap ships since I know I'll get caught in a bubble and popped (it doesn't matter if my last few times there haven't ended that way; it's just resignation to the worst-case scenario). However, when I asked in gang what sort of party dress I should wear, the response was, 'Tank'.

Tank? In nullsec? Hokayyy...

I dusted off my sexy Myrmidon. She's not seen much action since the last patch, but if it was tanks we needed, my Volcano Girl was the logical choice -- she can shrug off sentry-fire for up to ten minutes, solo. A quick check of her drone-bay contents reminded me that I'd borrowed the Warriors for my Ishkur, so I restocked and went out to join the others on the undock point aligned for the first gate... then realised the ship wasn't insured. Yes, I insure my ships, if they're worth insuring. Docked, sorted that issue out, and emerged just as the gang was starting off.

Shortly after we were underway, we got a call for help. The Bastards' own Mr Frog, it seems, had decided to go ratting in nullsec and was being stalked by a handful of locals.

Away we went, tacking against solar winds for Mr Frog's ratting system, popping a hapless Raven pilot on the way -- he had the cheek to suggest we 'hang' there on the gate 'for a while', about a nanosecond before his pod suffered the wrath of pirate munitions.

Who says you can't pirate in nullsec, anyway? Ransom is as ransom does...

Our objective to scare off Mr Frog's stalkers was successful -- they ran as our arrival in the system spiked Local by nine, and we pursued for a bit, mostly just for lolz. Then, as Mynxee and Jorge sat on one side of a gate, with the rest of the gang on the other, their Local started to spike.

It was The Blob, stirring itself from its long slumber, congealing slowly from various nearby systems; some of them had even been ratting, to judge from their ship fittings.

But I'll get to that in a minute.

They started reporting the ships coming in on their scanners: Onyx, Ishtar, Ishtar, Malediction, Domi... Their Local spiked at an additional eleven pilots, an Astarte on the gate started locking them, and FC Kulmid ordered everyone back into the system as the rest of the pursuing fleet hit the gate. We ran before them for a couple of systems before deciding to make a stand on the gate in 1W-0KS.

The Onyx and Malediction followed us in. The HIC the first to decloak, dropping a shiny blue bubble of warp-scrambleyness +10 and getting itself called primary in the process. That melted, while the Malediction decloaked, then ran (it returned later after we were all engaged -- probably the smartest pilot of the lot). The rest of the gang from Intrepid Crossing were appearing around us, like in one of those nightmares where evey time you kill a zombie, two more take its place and there seems to be no end to them. Kulmid called the next primary.

I'm not going to go blow-for-blow through the fight, since to be honest I can't really remember. By the time the Zealot was down, I was being locked up by first the Astarte, then one of the Domis. Four IRC losses later, they finally took me down -- it wasn't until the Raven joined in that my tank couldn't carry through. Keep an eye on that fitting; I have two more in my hangars just like her >:)

According to the Bastards killboard (which doesn't show Mynxee's and my losses) the fight looked something like this.

ISK for ISK, number for number, a gang of nine pirates kicked eleven nullsec warriors' arses, and as soon as we realised what the total outcome had been, there was cheering on Vent, followed by laughter as we pored over the setups on the hulls IRC had lost.

And while our remaining ships collected the spoils from the field, IRC came back... with two Thanatos and an Archon.

By that time I was calling it a night, so I missed the Boss Fight and have no idea how it turned out, but since there are no additional losses on the Bastards' boards, I'll assume the carriers were ineffectual and everyone got out safely.

That run was so totally worth logging in for :D

Eve Life Meets Real Life, Round Two

One of the guys my boyfriend and I run around City of Villains with added us as friends on Facebook earlier this evening. When I went to confirm, somebody else had added me, some total stranger.

He'd left a message, saying he was an Eve player, himself, living in Scotland as well, and that I could drop him a message if I ever felt like flying together.

My first reaction was a fiendish hurrhurrhurr laugh... but since there's nothing I've left visible to strangers on Facebook that indicates I'm an unrepentant rogue (apart from a little comment of 'Flyin' Hellcat, rawr!'), I added him back and responded that if he didn't mind losing sec, he'd be more than welcome to join us in lowsec....

To be continued, eh? ^_^

Miscellany

I'm still working on the Hellcats Pinup Calendar; due to UK Borders shit hitting the Student Visa fan, and a load of coursework which takes priority, it's taking longer than I'd like. Real Life does that. On the other hand, the quality will be so much better for the work not being rushed ^__^

The next chapter of Thicker Than Blood is the one I'm really excited to share. You'll just have to wait to find out why ;)

I changed the banner for my blog. Let me know what you think! I think it's much more 'me', now; I'm quite chuffed with it.

As a side note, I noticed the other day that they've finally fixed the CONCORD billboards. It only took them a sodding year to get around to it :p