-*Opening Connection, 453.11.9.45*-
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-*Signal Acquired*-
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-*Decrypting… Codex 90.7.7-D*-
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-*Incoming Transmission*-

Hey there. Thought I had forgotten about you hadn’t you? Well, unfortunately for me, I can’t forget about you. You’re my only contact in Empire space these days. Still a wanted man from Concord, so there’s little chance I’ll be in contact with you. I started bouncing this signal off the traffic data drones in FAT-6P, so I don’t think anyone will notice our little transmissions. I have to use text transmission because video uses too much bandwidth.

Since Eradication’s retreat from VFK, things have been a little hectic. I spent a lot of time running the back routes to Black Rise. You’d be surprised how far a cloak and an ounce of brains will go on a Deimos. Nullsec has a kind of dangerous beauty to it. It’s full of the most unsavory dangers. I ran into a handful of gate camps, but they were thrown together and their intelegence was bad. I later learned they thought I was a part of a larger fleet, and that I was a scout, not a high-value ship flying alone and without back-up in dangerous space. An intimidating paper tiger. After a few weeks of hectic logistics, I found myself based out of a region deep inside Curse.

The market was shit, but that’s always a good investment opportunity. The rest of the region is pretty hostile. Our little pocket is the only pocket that’s secure enough to stay in alone. The occasional hostile patrol comes through on an odd day to try and show force, but they’re usually disorganized, with minimal REAL opposition. On one of these odd days, I formed up a gang of about 8 Eradication and B.L.A.C.K. Alliance members. We skirmished against a 10 man HAC and BC gang for a few minutes, killing two interceptors, and losing a similar number of our own ships. We then moved the gang out of Curse and into the Great Wildlands.

I’m coming to love this place. It’s full of a lot of ships, and all of them targets. A patrol of Interceptors and Assault Frigates can engage a lot of ratting ships, and eventually bait out a larger patrol to engage. This has always been my objective when taking out patrols. Force recon; plunging deep into the jungles with enemies all around. I love it.

The Great Wildlands reminds me of the jungles of my home world of Intaki. Untamed, wild, feral. Dangers lurking behind every tree, hidden under every rock. Here, just like there, you have to keep your wits about you, and know exactly what you’ll do before hand. You have to drill, train, think. At any moment, something dangerous and new might spring up, and you have to be ready for it. Earlier this week I had been working on perfecting my fitting for the Ishkur. I now have an active explosive hardener for my armor plates. The Warrior 2’s fly fast and thick around here, and I need to counter that in such a small ship, since they’re going to be coming for you right away. People see an Ishkur on the field, know its danger, but know that it’s a fragile ship, and enough focused fire can blow it out of the black skies. I have to learn to be better than that.

We were put to the test pretty quickly, when less than 3 jumps from our home system we engaged a solo Vagabond, which dispatched two of our lightest ships. I was about to call it quits, and take the patrol home, since we had already lost three ships or so. The recommendation of our Drake pilot gave me a new idea though. He would stay behind in his ship and bait the Vagabond. I jumped our men out of system and reaproached the in gate. Less than 15 seconds later the vaga had engaged the drake, and two additional drakes came in. We didn’t think, we just acted.

I came out of warp to see two drakes and a vagabond all swarming our own drake. That Vagabond if left alone would shred our interceptor heavy gang. I called it primary. Pilots shouting for assistance came over the coms almost imidately, as the feared interceptor hunter began to eat our own pilot’s ships through their shields and armor. My own armor started to take a beating from the Warrior 2’s launched by the Vaga pilot. Finally one man managed to get a scrambler and a web on the ship, and it was our turn. The collective firepower of all of our interceptors and cruisers incinerated the vagabond in a glorious explosion of incandescent flame, quickly snuffed by the vacuum of space. Now it was time for the drakes.

I executed a complete 180 degree turn, the stress almost too much for the Ishkur to handle. It took all those months of interceptor training just to keep the ship under control, as I hurtled towards the new fight with the drakes. Once again the Warrior 2’s attacked me as both drake pilots tried to test my ships armor. I got a worried call from my engineering crew about the status of the structure. I checked my indicators and saw that they were going to break through my tank any second. The order went out instantly to drone control

“Target the warriors, pop them NOW.”

Little explosions dotted the view from my camera drone as the Warriors were engaged by my own flight of Hobgoblins. It still wouldn’t be enough to stop the drakes, and I was forced to warp out, and repair, but with the Vagabond gone there was nothing to stop me from fleeing. I easily pulled away from the fight and left.

I came back into the fight less than thirty seconds later fully repaired through armor, and began to come again at the drakes. They shot their fighters off at me again, but this time I was ready, and ordered the hob goblins after them imidiately. A short time later One drake exploded, and half the drones stopped shooting. I was handling the remaining Warriors easily, and called the second drake primary. It was over quickly, as the focused fire from every Interceptor, Assault Frigate, and even our heavy hitting Brutix slammed through the Drakes shields, and right through its paper-thin armor. A pod ejected from the wreck, and the pilot slipped away into the black, living to fight again some other day.

We held the field. It cost us a few frigate ships, but we held it. I returned the first patrol I had ever FCed in the Curse region back to our base, and ordered a very, very tall glass of beer.

-*Transmission Ended*-
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-*Connection Terminated*-
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-*Logging Message; “12-26-108PUNTBlastilID2556.txt”*-
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