Recruitment Poster #7

Posted in Artistic Lethality with tags , on December 4, 2017 by Jack Carrigan

Recruiting Poster 7


Visiting Old Friends

Posted in After Action Reports with tags , on December 1, 2017 by Jack Carrigan

“Careful in which of your friends you cast aside, as several of them have a long memory.”


A Tayra-class Industrial bearing medical ship flag “IKW MERCY” slowly lumbered toward a private structure, an old pirate bunker that had been retrofitted as a habitation module.  The pilot calmly hailed the structure, “Isolation Control, this is medical vessel IKW Mercy on approach.  Are we clear to dock?”  “Mercy, confirm destination and payload,” the controller replied.  The pilot, who was not a capsuleer muted the feed before turning to the man standing on the bridge with him, “Fuck man, we’re screwed.  We are so screwed.”  “Calm the fuck down,” I said before handing the pilot a falsified manifest, “I’ve got you covered.”  The pilot hesitated as he read the manifest, “Isolation Control, we’re bringing aboard spare parts for medical cloning equipment, as well as two containers of biomass.  We are also here to clear station waste.”

Silence filled the bridge for several minutes before the comms came to life again, “Mercy, Isolation Control, you are clear to dock.”  An evil smile crept across my lips, “Alright, now for the hard part.”

I slid down the crew access ladder to the cargo hold, and very carefully opened a crate, which was supposed to be housing sensitive equipment for the purpose of cloning capsuleers.  The bootleg operation had come across Vick’s radar, and as usual, he needed complete deniability.  I checked my equipment, and entered the crate, pulling the cover back over top of it.  The vessel shuddered, which let me know that the vessel had been engaged to the habitation module via an old manual docking claw.

From within the shipping container, I smelled the stale, recycled air which had began to seep into the Tayra, letting me know that the docking operation had completed, and crews were entering the ship.  I keyed the small communications device that I wore, “Remember, you hang out long enough for me to pull this shit off, and then get us both out of here.  The payday will be worth it.”  The Tayra’s pilot replied with a sigh, “It better be.”

The small crew of the bootleg habitation module started moving equipment, only for me to feel the crate I was concealed in moving.  Did I feel bad that I was utilizing the flags of a medical ship that I had destroyed to kill people engaged in illegal cloning?  Not even the slightest.

“Hey man, this crate’s open,” one of the workers said as he approached the crate I was hiding in.  I cursed under my breath and reached for my knife, sliding it quietly from the sheathe.  The worker lifted the lid, but before he could react, I had reached up and grabbed him by the back of his head and pulled him in close, driving the knife into his neck.  The severed artery sprayed across my face and vest, but the man was silenced.  I shoved the body off, and climbed out of the crate, quickly ducking behind another one as the other worker approached.  “Mother fucker, always laying down on the jo…” the other worker tried to say, only to be violently interrupted as I stood up, grabbing him by the chin and back of his head, and twisted sharply, a loud snap echoing as his body went limp.  I dropped him on the deck plating, only to then retrieve a satchel from the crate that had carried me onto the derelict structure.

I scanned the cargo-handling area which I stood in, my attention being drawn to the airlock.  I then looked around for emergency bulkheads, and upon locating them, I observed that the doors which would seal in the event of a hull breach had been removed, likely scrapped for parts to patch up the structure as a stopgap measure until more supplies could arrive.  I removed my gloves, and set to work.

I opened the satchel, and removed numerous explosive charges, and placed them around the airlock’s frame, ensuring to secure each one in place with binding tape to supplement the adhesive on them.  I then made my way back across the cargo-handling area, and up the ramp which led to the docking locks.  I walked across the sealed gantry, and boarded the IKW Mercy.

A few keystrokes on the control panel sealed the cargo bay doors over the gantry.  I then keyed the communications device I was wearing, “We’re good here.”

The pilot nervously keyed his ship comms, “Isolation Control, this is the Mercy.  We have finished offload operations, and have secured the waste containers.  Release docking locks.”  “Copy that Mercy.  Thank you for the assist, the controller replied.

The docking locks released the Tayra-class Industrial, which began aligning toward the Pain Stargate.  The pilot breathed a heavy sigh of relief as the vessel shuddered into warp, “So, what’s the payout on this?”  “Trust me, it’ll be enough for you to enter the program,” I replied, “Besides, I have contacts on the inside.”  “Thanks man,” he replied, “I just want to make sure that these hauling trips don’t end with me dying in the future.”  “Just because you become a capsuleer doesn’t make you immune to death,” I laughed, “It just makes it so you can come back and seek revenge.  Immortality is both a blessing and a curse.”

Aboard the derelict cloning facility, a worker walked into the cargo handling area, only to see that two of his compatriots were dead.  He was about to make his way to the alarm panel when something caught his eye.  A series of lights across a device attached to the airlock controls.  Upon closer examination, he realized that it was the control unit to the charges which he was far too close to.  Rather than attempt to warn anyone, the man pulled out his flask, and took a drink.

The timer on the charges reached zero, and they detonated, shearing the airlock’s entire frame, and blowing chunks of plating outward, and as they buckled, the airlock itself collapsed, the atmosphere in it igniting for a brief second, only for it to vent the entire contents of the cargo handling area along with the structure’s atmosphere into the void.  Secondary explosions began rippling through the makeshift cloning facility, only to detonate violently, reducing it to a debris field.

I sent Vick a message, “Your friends have paid their debt.”


Thoughts From the Commander #208

Posted in From the Commander with tags , on November 26, 2017 by Jack Carrigan

It should really come as no surprise when people become angry at you when you do stupid shit.

Thought From the Commander #207

Posted in From the Commander with tags , on November 23, 2017 by Jack Carrigan

Being new is not an excuse for complete disregard for common sense.

Thoughts From the Commander #206

Posted in From the Commander with tags , on November 16, 2017 by Jack Carrigan

Don’t complain to people who have been exactly where you are.  Instead, better yourself to get where they are.

It Was In That Moment…

Posted in After Action Reports with tags , , on October 12, 2017 by Jack Carrigan

There are some fuckups that are just too surreal for words.


My fleet had been out hunting for quite some time with limited success, as for some unexplainable reason, the systems that we had been traveling through seemed relatively empty.  I had just called for a fleet warp to the Nennamaila stargate when one of my scouts called out that they had observed a Thanatos-class carrier bearing private designation on the Immuri stargate in Hikkoken.  The large majority of my fleet was made up of frigate-class hulls and variants, and I thought for a moment whether or not we should risk the engagement.  I keyed fleet communications, “As soon as we arrive at the Nennamaila gate, align back to Hikkoken stargate and prepare for warp.”  “Jack,” the scout called, “I’m being aggressed!  I’m going to need some help over here.”  Without hesitation I barked over comms, “Full fleet warp Hikkoken stargate and jump on contact.  Upon arrival, I want all electronic warfare focused on fighters as they’re launched.  All weapons on the carrier itself and for fucks sake stay the fuck out of smartbomb range.”  The fleet arrived at the Hikkoken stargate.


I took a moment to clear my head as my exterior camera drone feed came back to life, projected across my retina.  I then willed Haukr, my Sentinel-class Electronic Attack Ship into orbit around the hulking vessel which had chosen to engage one of my fleet-mates on a stargate, prompting an immediate response from the sentry guns positioned around it.

“Jack, fighters deployed,” one of my pilots called out.  I engaged the neutralizers on board the tiny vessel, and launched drones as I keyed comms once again, “Get me electronic countermeasures on the fighters and ensure we have multiple warp disruptors on the Thanatos.  This is too good of a score to pass up.” 

The carrier pilot was a fool, but at least he was a smart fool.  As soon as he realized that the squadrons of fighters he had launched were being jammed so that they could not target or engage, he would recall them, and try launching them again, directing the pilots to try to pick off targets within my fleet, but my electronic warfare pilots were on top of them as soon as they’d launch.  The carrier began to slowly drift away from the gate, partly in thanks to a collision with an Orthrus-class cruiser at approximately four-thousand meters per second.  Even if the pilot of the vessel could manage to deaggress from my fleet to gain clearance to jump through the stargate, he was already outside of range, and the stasis webifiers being applied en masse significantly hampered his maneuverability.  The capital vessel’s pilot began a practice in insanity, repeating the same action multiple times yet expecting a different outcome.  Beyond being jammed, his fighter squadrons were beginning to experience losses to the swarming frigates and drones, unable to respond due to their inability to lock targets.

The Thanatos’ shielding failed, leaving the full brunt of the incoming weapons fire to begin damaging its armor plating, and while the frigates themselves weren’t doing much damage alone, due to the sheer numbers, and the support of the sentry guns, the massive vessel’s armor plating began to show wear as it began to buckle, warp and holes began forming, the molten metals giving way to the hull plating below.

“Jack, I hate to be the one to put a damper on things,” one of my pilots called out, “But what if this is bait?  What if the pilot lights a cyno beacon on the carrier and calls for backup?”  “If that turns out to be the case, we just warp off,” I chuckled, “I mean, it’s not like he can target any of us very quickly.”  The pilot breathed a sigh of relief, “You do bring up a valid point.”  “Of course I do mate, now keep shooting,” I laughed.

It was a slow grind through the capital ship’s armor plating, but finally telemetry reads showed that we were making headway against it, I smirked, “Alright ladies, this is it.  Armor is gone, and telemetry is showing numerous hull breaches.  If he’s going to light a cyno, it’s time for him to shit or get off the pot, but I think this guy was just fucking stupid.”  It was obvious the pilot of the Thanatos wasn’t about to go out quietly, as he still attempted micromanaging the fighter squadrons that launched from his vessel, only to have them rendered completely ineffective, the swarm of skirmish frigates having essentially defanged the vessel.

“We’ve got numerous hull breaches and as far as I can tell, the reactor on this thing is exposed,” a pilot called out.  I did a quick check of telemetry feeds, all the while maintaining the orbit around the now doomed vessel, “All pilots, overheat weapons, let’s fucking finish this thing off.”

Several large, jagged holes formed in the hull of the vessel, and it appeared almost as its toothless maw was smiling at us.  A salvo of Nova Javelin rockets launched by a nearby Jackdaw-class Tactical Destroyers screamed through the void in the vessel’s plating, striking the reactor.  Telemetry feeds showed a massive energy spike within the Thanatos itself, all of the lighting flickering, and then going out for good.  The vessel was evidently out of control as it started to list, a shockwave being emitted which buffeted the shields of all surrounding vessels.  The launched fighter squadrons were now vulnerable to attack, and that is exactly what we did, finish them off to leave no survivors.  The dark space around us began to be illuminated by a warm orange glow as the hull of the once beautiful testament to Gallente engineering began to bubble out into twisted chunks of molten slag, secondary explosions being triggered throughout the entire vessel.  Then a sudden, bright flash illuminated the entire area as the reactor went critical, exploding and causing massive segments of the vessel to be sheared off and projected outward.

All was silent on comms for a moment.  Then the channel erupted into a chorus of loud cheering, shouting and laughter.  One of the newest pilots in my fleet laughed, “Holy shit Jack!  That was fucking intense!  I’ll be looking for when you’re running your next fleet, because if we can get in fights like that, I want to be a part of them!”  The newest pilot in the fleet asked, “So, why’s everyone so excited?  And what the hell is a Thanatos anyway?”  I laughed and keyed comms, “Mate, we just killed a capital ship with a gang of frigates.”  “Oh,” the new pilot said, “Neat I guess?”  Everyone had a good laugh at the comment.  Another pilot keyed up, “Hey Jack, so what’s next?”

“Align to the freeported Astrahus, coordinates have been broadcast.  Let’s go dock up and grab some beer, also, I need a smoke,” I said with a smirk.



Thoughts From the Commander #205

Posted in From the Commander with tags , on October 11, 2017 by Jack Carrigan

Just because you make a threat doesn’t make you threatening.