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Rescue from J153449: Double Your Fun!

Check one more and then to bed! I was in J113950 and was doing a last quick check for SAR systems in the wormholes I had scanned down. There was one left, a C5, and the moment I went through I saw the mark in my display saying I’d landed in a SAR system, J153449 to be exact, and the pilot reported it was a capital ship. The hour was late and if I’d had any easy routes to k-space I might have emailed the pilot saying we’d found their system and I’d be back in the morning but I had no routes to k-space other than some unexplored null holes a few jumps away. I put the word out and started scanning to see what I could find to bring in backup.

I found a route through to a C2 and figured that was a good bet as all my other paths went through c4-6’s and had few k-space possibilities and then mostly null sec. A C2 had a much better bet of a high or low sec connection. However J122638, while a c2, had only a NS static and C5 static (and I had come through that). I had seen a couple Astero’s headed through the way I came but they were no particular threat so I scanned on. I found my way to J131852 which had a nice HS static to Bawilan. Score! 

The word went out and Chaim Achasse was 12 jumps out and burned hard to get there while I retraced my path back to the SAR. Much to my surprise when I arrived at the hole in J122638 I found Devoter sitting on top of it. I quickly checked the info and sure enough it was mass critical. Still cloaked I warped to the hole and pounded the jump button, slipping past the roller and back. I warped to a safe then back to the hole to check on it and it was gone. I was alone in the system again with no routes for backup. I was also exhausted so I decided to call it a night. I had been in convo with the pilot so they knew I was there and we were working a route but that it might be a day or two so I headed for bed. He also added he had not one, but two capitals to extract.

Six hour of restless sleep dreaming of wormholes and scanning and I was back up hunting a route. My entrance was still stable so I backtracked through there and started scanning, ultimately finding a route through Etherium Reach. I headed back as I need to log off and get to work but while I was off Captain Crinkle made it in followed by Chaim and Scarsan Stripes. Backup was here and I could relax a bit. 

Throughout the next day we scanned down routes to take. With two capitals this could be interesting. We found some routes but our pilot wasn’t available and some of the systems were pretty active. Plus all the routes were at least two to three jumps to get to k-space. On the upside our locals appeared to be quiet.

Our likely exit was the system’s only static, a C6. That night it got rolled and opened up into a Hard Knocks farm system. More fun! I managed to get in touch with our pilot and determined the times he could be available. It was either going to be very late or very early for most of our crew although Captain Crinkle was well positioned time zone wise.

The next night Chaim, Scars, and I sat outside the static C6 waiting for it to collapse… which it decided to do over an hour late, so while we waited we watched @Johnny-Splunk ‘s stream as he bid farewell to the Raptor. Once it went it down we quickly scanned routes and found a few exits only a couple jumps out. Things were looking good. No response from our guy and I was running out of steam. Two long nights and some illness had taken their toll. I crashed and left things to the rest of the crew.

The rest of the rescue I got from Chaim afterwords, who apparently couldn’t sleep so was up:

The lost pilot made contact with the rescue team slightly before downtime. Chaim messaged to advise that he and Captain Crinkle be in contact after down time to effect the rescue. Once the server came back up, Chaim logged in, followed shortly after by Captain Crinkle and formed a fleet. After scanning the route, the lost pilot was contacted, and told that we were ready.

Once the pilot logged in, Chaim invited both of his pilots to the fleet and warped to them to drop off the exit route bookmarks incase of any issues with hole stability. With two capitals (a Naglfar and an Apostle) we were crossing our fingers we wouldn’t collapse any holes on the way. Captain Crinkle proceeded to scout the next system, and on the “all clear” Chaim fleet-warped himself and the lost pilots to the system exit.

Chaim held position while the pilot jumped through to ensure hole stability for the two capital ships. Once the pilots were through Chaim followed after and Captain Crinkle moved to scout the next system. Again on Captain Crinkle’s “all clear” Chaim fleet-warped the pilots to the next exit and held position while the capital ships went through, following after. This process was followed for one more system, where the pilot was told to warp to Captain Crinkle upon splashing through as he was sitting on the Low Sec exit hole. 

Captain Crinkle scouted the Low Sec system and it was anything but quiet! A titan had been lost there just a week before, which was making Crinkle very nervous about the whole endeavour. But we told our pilot this beforehand, and they agreed to take the risk. As Chaim described, the route until lowsec was as quiet as could be hoped. That all changed when we warped in, with 15 in Local and a dreadnought on dscan. Luckily Crinkle was able to pinpoint it’s position using narrow cone scanning before the rescuee ships arrived, and found a potential NPC station with a clear undock.

Well done to all involved! Captain Crinkle , Scarsan Stripes , Chaim Achasse , and, while he didn’t see any action, Angel Lafisques was there as further backup. We have rescued a few capitals over the last year and half but I believe the is the first double cap!

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The Killings at Kurniainen

It was inevitable. I knew it was coming, some day. I just didn’t think some day would be today.

Signal Cartel Fleet School (SCFS) has been flying Sleeper Eradication fleets regularly for some time now, and all in all things have gone very smoothly. Our skills – and our confidence – have grown, which is exactly what SCFS is supposed to do. When we undocked from Zoo I don’t think any of us expected this op to end the way they did.

Things started off routinely enough. We had a C5 wolf rayet with heavy sleeper activity, ripe for eradication. Our j-space entrance was Haras, in The Bleak Lands, 18 jumps from Zoo. It was a long way to travel, but my intel indicated that the C5 was worth it. So we headed to Haras on the shortest route possible.

There was some traffic with us early on – a Stratios here, a Corvus there – but we pushed ahead. When we crossed the border into Metropolis at 20:30, things intensified. D-scan in Avenod showed combat probes, and Captain Davis from No Handlebars Alliance was spotted in a Vedmak. I jumped the fleet from Avenod to Aset and ahead into Isbrabata. This proved to be the beginning of the end.

We were chased through Isbrabata, and I made the decision to push forward into Kurniainen. I’m sure more than a handful of pilots will question whether that was the right decision, but it’s the decision I made. I jumped the fleet through the Isbrabata gate into Kurniainen.

We were met on the other side of the gate by a group of at least seventeen pirates: one Deimos, one Devoter, two Guardians, one Harpy, one Imperial Navy Slicer, one Ishkur, one Legion, one Malediction, one Pacifier, three Retributions, two Vedmaks, one Vengeance, and one Wolf. There were more in-system – I received a report of a smartbomb Proteus safed up near the sun – but I don’t know how many more, and honestly that’s probably for the better.

I don’t know which pirate fired the first shot, and I don’t remember who in the fleet suffered the first hit. I can only confirm that as soon as we jumped into Kurniainen at 20:32, we were engaged in what was for many of us, myself included, our first real PvP encounter.

You can spend days reading and studying, but it doesn’t prepare you for the real thing. I was grateful for the experience of Command0, and turned target calling over to him. Deimos was called as primary, and we started fighting back.

A few of us sustained some pretty heavy damage right away. The Logi cap chain went down, my Guardian pilots were locked, and there was nothing I could do. Quinn was the first casualty at 20:34, followed by Leda at 20:35. Command0 sustained heavy fire, and his Eos succumbed at 20:36.

I assumed the role of target calling. Drones were out, missiles were flying, and all weapons were being fired. My nosferatu and neuts were on, and Auds came on-grid in his scouting ship to try and assist with damps. None of it made a dent in the pirate gang. We continued to take heavy fire and I lost Chaim, Daniel and Sanctus – all in Harbingers – at 20:36, 20:37, and 20:38, respectively.

Two minutes later, my Damnation exploded around me and my pod was ejected. It was her second flight (she still had that ‘new ship smell’), but she Died with Glory™. I stayed on-grid in my pod and continued on.

Alerei’s 1.9bil experimental Proteus fit was the next to go down, followed by Snyypa’s Gnosis and Aleksander’s BNI. Ren-Song’s Guardian finally couldn’t take any more damage, and she exploded at 20:42, followed by Calder’s BNI.

While all this was happening, Fonsui had the wherewithal to scout some safes for the fleet. At 20:43 I gave the order to warp out and safe up. My pod was scrammed and I was down to about 25% hull, but somehow managed to get out and make it to the safe.

We re-grouped at the safe, did a quick damage assessment, and planned a route back to Zoo. I was still under a timer and my mapping was off, so Chaim stepped up as navigator. He found us a route through Sinq Laison, and I led what remained of the fleet home to Zoo.

This fleet ended in an (almost) TPK. But as I sit here in the pilot’s lounge on Level Sixteen, scratching notes on my datapad, you’d never know anything out of the ordinary had happened. The corridors are filled with friendly chatter, pilots are repairing or replacing their ships, and more than a few people are joking about how ‘shiny’ their new clones feel. It’s just a regular day in Signal Cartel.

As I sipped my Caf, I composed and sent the following message to my fleet:

Things did not go as planned today. We did not come home with Sleeper loot, many of us came home without our ships, and some of us woke up in a clone bay. Our zkillboard is bathed in blood, and we had some pretty significant losses. But it was a good day.

We can spend time second-guessing our actions, being salty or sad, or we can be proud that we fought back. This was my first real PvP experience, as it was for many of us. The fleet did not give up – we fought back for as long as we could. We did not roll over and give up, and I am proud of the fact that we engaged.

We did not win this fight, but the fleet can hold its head high, knowing that we did the best we could. There will surely be more fights, and surely more losses. But I know that we will all continue to do the best we can do, supporting each other along the way, because that is who we are. We are Signaleers.

o7

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How Coasters became Content in EvE

It was sometime in late February 2018 when I sat in my office at work and got annoyed by the coffee circles on my desk and on papers scattered there. I started to search the web for coasters but could not find any which satisfied my special needs and suddenly I got an idea.

I wanted coasters with the Signal Cartel Alliance logo on it.

So I started another search to see how I could get custom coasters printed. There were not so many hits when I narrowed the search down to custom shaped coasters, but I finally found a print shop which offered them made out of mousepad material at a reasonable rate. In the next few days I asked Mynxee about the copyright situation of our logo, and a friend of mine helped me to meet the requirements of the print shop since I am really bad with Photoshop stuff and the requirement was to have a 1pt pink line along the cutting border.

After a few days I had everything in place and had to decide about the number of coasters to order. The costs were roughly 10€ for a professional checking my image for problems (which was really necessary because I needed three tries to get it right), 10€ for cleaning the machine after printing, and 0.7€ for each coaster. With the basic costs in mind, I decided to order 50 pieces so the price for a single one was in a reasonable range.

Now came the next thing – what would I do with 50 coasters where I needed just a few myself? A Signal Cartel event where these coasters could be handed out to my fellow corpmates!

I thought about what kind of event I would like to see myself and maybe even something different as well. Since we are Signal Cartel and do things differently, I thought about creating a group event where nobody can really win but everybody can participate, like our ESRC and SAR division. Since we already have some ESRC competitions and events, I focused on SAR and came up with the idea of an orchestrated rescue of somebody. Later it turned out that this somebody was me, and I would be kind of locked out of my own story most of the time – haha!

I reached out to Thrice Hapus since my favorite Signal Cartel video is the one about our ESRC division. (It’s so exciting to hear „Base, this is Thrice checking in…“) I only asked who did all the sound and video bits and pieces and wondered if I could get some help from that end. But as soon as I told Thrice about the idea, he explained that the one year anniversary of ESRC was about to come up in March and he was looking for an event to be held at that time. We pulled A Dead Parrot into the story a few days after first contact, and from then on, we chatted daily on Discord, had a few voice calls, and started to work out the story together.

So that’s how content gets created in EvE!

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Rescue in J101129: Everyday Hero

A request for help came across the EvE-Scout channel. The stranded pilot (who has asked to remain anonymous) knew the HS/C1 chain to his wormhole. The problem was that the only hole he had bookmarked was the C1/C4 and it would only allow medium-sized ships through it. The only other hole out was a large one to a C3, but its mass was critically destabilized and he had two large ships that needed an exit. He had a way to refit but had no probes or launcher currently fitted and the system did not contain a rescue cache.

Using the known HS/C1 connection, Expert Rescue Pilot Luci Mari-Ni was able to easily locate and enter the stranded pilot’s system. But she was concerned the stranded pilot would be stuck even worse if she went through the destabilized wormhole and collapsed it. The Search and Rescue effort would be considerably more challenging if that occurred.

At the stranded pilot’s request, they rolled the dice, and Luci went through into the C3. The stranded pilot brought one of his large ships through then went back to retrieve the second. It was a tense moment as Luci waited for him to re-emerge from the wormhole before it collapsed. And then the second ship appeared. Hooray!

In the C3 system, there was a rescue cache, from which Luci was able to retrieve a probe launcher and scanner probes. She jettisoned a can with with these items into space for the stranded pilot to pick up. As he did so, she scanned down the system’s LS exit and began scouting in it to see if would be safe. But the stranded pilot soon waved her off; now that he had probes and a launcher, he was no longer stranded and able to scan his own way out to known space. Mission accomplished!

When I learned of the events the next day, I reached out to the rescued pilot for feedback on how the rescue went, as we do on all rescues. Many times we hear nothing back, but this pilot went out of his way to send the following note:

Luci Mari-Ni did not just help, but went above and beyond what I was expecting them to. Great person, great pilot, and helped me out greatly. I can’t begin to thank them enough. Through their service I even donated to your guy’s cause, which is an odd thing for me to do.

To start, I want to say I was skeptical of calling on you folk to help. In a game where trust is rare because anyone can be willing and ready to stab you in the back for the lolz, you hold true to honor and integrity. I heard good things about you, but figured it was old tales of a group that used to help others out and now just uses people to cleverly hunt others. I was wrong. Not only was I helped with saving my two rattles, but the pilot who helped went beyond what they needed to do to make sure I got out safe. They even offered to scout me through LS to HS, but I declined, for their job was done and it was time for me to own up to any potential mistakes that may or may not happen. This one pilot’s actions has now convinced me to not engage knowingly with Signal Cartel. Which is saying something, since everyone is a target or future target.

This is just a day in the life of a Signal Cartel Rescue Pilot. Every rescue is different, and every rescue matters. We have rescue caches in approximately 60% of wormholes, waiting to assist you should you need a launcher and scanner probes. If that won’t help you, we have pilots in space, 24/7 in every time zone, ready to assist you should you become stranded in a wormhole.

Sound like something you’d like to be a part of? Then consider joining with Luci Mari-Ni and our scores of other Rescue Pilots. Start your rescue adventure today!

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Happy Third Birthday, Signal Cartel!

Signal Cartel turns three years old in a few days. To my delight and amazement, we are not just surviving but thriving despite playing EVE in a very different way from most everyone else.

A Brief History. Johnny Splunk and G8keeper, who co-founded the EvE-Scout corp when Thera was introduced to the game, approached me about serving as CEO for an exploration corp based on the principles of peaceful exploration and what is now our Credo. Looking for something different to do in New Eden and knowing them from having worked as a Thera scout for a short time, I said yes. After a lot of intense preliminary work to get our ducks in a row, Signal Cartel was founded on 2015.01.20 and officially open for business on 2015.01.31. Our alliance, EvE-Scout Enclave, was formed on 2015.01.23 to house the two corps and our logistics corp, EvE-Scout Logistics. In the interest of administrative simplicity, we are a closed alliance which does not accept other corps.

This past weekend, we enjoyed our Third Birthday Fleet, planned and FC’d by the remarkable Johnny Splunk (watch his Twitch channel for exploration adventures, quirky humor, and a great community) on his well known alt Carrie Frog. About 50 of us formed up in Thera, then departed in our signature swarm of Griffins, fitted with hugs (festival launchers and fireworks/snowballs) and ECM (for self defense). Destination: Lanngisi, with the FC expertly guiding our new players about fleet protocols and mechanics along the way.

Photo by Lucas Ballard

Of course, we announced ourselves and our birthday messages in Local at every jump, and when we could, “hugged” folks on the gate with our fireworks and snowballs. I was kept busy during the entire fleet doing random draws of fleet member names to give away many excellent items donated by our members. Among the items were Asteros, implants, Geckos, ISK, Stratioses, Spectral Shift and other SKINs, exploration modules, a fitted Tengu, and even a fully fitted Chimera!!!

Once in Lanngisi, we were instructed to entosis the new Project Discovery monument there. This yielded various items and our FC assisted folks as they puzzled out what the information we gleaned from these items could mean. (Some of us already knew what this was about, but no spoilers ruined it for those who didn’t.)

Photo by Lucas Ballard

Eventually the puzzle revealed our next destination. Being in low sec and requiring a route of several low sec systems, scouts were deployed and travel was much more tightly managed by our FC to ensure that everyone arrived safely. As  often happens to our fleets, it appeared we were being tailed by someone, presumably to inform a gate camp further along our route. We did encounter a few gate camps, but our FC provided calm guidance to our nervous newer players. We arrived at our destination relatively intact (I think we lost one or two people to campers but those folks soon reshipped and caught back up with us).

Upon our arrival, the FC warped us to a landmark and directed us to entosis the structure there. As we landed on grid, we were delighted to see an Astrahus bearing our alliance logo, which factored into a strategy for entosising relatively safely in this low sec system. Those who could not entosis spent the time regaling us with fireworks and snowballs,  checking out our Astrahus, and taking pictures.

Photo by Razorien

But our FC had something even more exciting planned. When our entosising tasks were done, he hinted at next steps in solving the puzzle we were working on. Then everyone’s attention was directed to our freeported Astrahus, where Johnny Splunk himself undocked in an Erebus, a Titan class ship. There was shock and awe on comms, especially among our many new players who’d never seen such a thing in game before. The Erebus had been donated by our long-time member Dinic, who amazingly revealed later that he had earned the entire cost of the ship from exploration activities! Such beautiful synergy!

Photo by Aamish MacTavish

Our FC informed us we would be bridged to another system, then explained how bridging works and instructed everyone in what to do when the bridge went up. The bridging went fairly smoothly, with most of the fleet getting through on the first go. One or two people had glitches but finally made it through subsequent bridges. Once we were all in the destination system — at yet another EvE-Scout Enclave Astrahus! — our FC provided more hints and guidance for solving the next step in the puzzle. At that point the fleet had been going for about three hours so it was decided to call it and leave everyone to finish up the rest of the puzzle on their own. If they manage to do so, they will be have everything they need to build their own Neural Lace ‘Blackglass’ Net Intrusion 920-40 implant (spoiler alert; don’t click the link if you want to solve the puzzle for yourself!), which offers substantial buffs when used in conjunction with a ‘Zeugma’ Integrated Analyzer.

We celebrated with a mass display of hugs on the Astrahus, while several of us shared on comms their feelings about the day’s fleet experience and their experience in Signal Cartel. For myself and Johnny as leaders of Signal Cartel, these comments were so heart-warming. It is extremely fulfilling to make an idea real in EVE and to grow a community of like-minded pilots who have both a sustaining mission and a cultural focus. As I tell my members, though: we are all torchbearers for the Signal Cartel way of life. Our light is burning brighter than ever and I am humbled and honored every day by the good work and solidarity of our dedicated pilots. So, to them I say thank you and here’s to another three years!

Enjoy more fabulous fleet pictures captured by Aamish MacTavish,  Lucas Ballard, Razorien, and Tamayo.

 

 

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The Short Life and Triumphant Death of Rescue Cache J154733

Author: Lucas Ballard

YC109-Dec-15 was a remarkable day for one Small Secure Container floating in Anoikis, illustrating in just a few short hours the full lifespan of a Eve Scout Rescue Cache that was very well used.

Rescue Cache J154733 started its life being anchored by Signal Cartel pilot Rover Dog.  Just a box floating out in the black of Anoikis, waiting to be opened.

A few hours later a call came into the EvE-Scout Public channel from a pilot named <redacted> who had apparently become stranded within the system.  Signaleer and regular corporate fixture pris Naari played the role of Agent and assisted <redacted> in finding the Rescue Cache and availing himself of the equipment stored within.  <redacted> soon found his way out of Anoikis and out of danger, having used 5 Core Scanner Probes out of the 8 that had been placed there by Rover Dog.

Lucas Ballard came online from the captain’s lounge aboard Rescue Five, his brand new Enforcer Force Recon Cruiser, having received word of <redacted> predicament a short time earlier.  However he soon learned of pris Naari’s handling of the situation moments before.  So he made preparations for a long roam through the ever-changing paths through Anoikis, to begin searching for other pilots who were waiting for their chance to escape their own J-Space prisons.

Not 10 minutes later, a pilot by the name of <redacted2> reached out on the Public channel, looking for assistance.  He had become stranded in Anoikis while piloting his brand new (and freakishly expensive) Caiman, a Guristas Dreadnought.  Lucas stepped in to help, and learned that the pilot was stranded in J154733, the very system that <redacted> had just escaped from less than one hour before.  Lucas directed him to the Rescue Cache, and 15 minutes later, <redacted2> sent a terse message simply stating that he had gotten out of Anoikis.

Less than 15 minutes after that, <redacted> reached out again in the EvE-Scout Public Channel.  Grateful for the assistance he had received an hour earlier, he had decided to fly back into J154733 to return the Core Scanner Probes he had borrowed.  But upon arriving at the location of the Cache, he discovered that it was no longer there.  Someone had destroyed the container!  So Lucas sent a secure message to <redacted2>, to get more information about just what had happened, and 2 hours later, <redacted2> responded.  Shortly after getting the probes from the Rescue Cache, it turned out that he had been jumped by a Sabre pilot who tried to keep him from getting away.  However quick reflexes and some savvy flying kept <redacted2> from being pinned down by the Interdictor, and he managed to escape.  In their frustration over missing such a valuable target, the Sabre pilot and/or his friends apparently destroyed the Rescue Cache.

Thus ended the short life of Rescue Cache J154733.  But what a life it had!  The little box was a light in the darkness for not one but TWO pilots, before being destroyed less than 12 hours after having been anchored.  A short but triumphant existence to be sure.

That Small Secure Container manifested the Eve Scout Rescue motto perfectly:  Hope Comes In A Box.

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Community Favorite Vote: In-Character Stories 2017

We seek the New Eden community’s help to choose a community favorite from among the 10 prize-eligible stories submitted to our recent Signal Cartel in-character writing contest.

The stories are:

The survey will run for a week. The story with the most votes when the poll closes will be declared the winner. In case of a tie, the judging team of Cassandra Habalu, Mynxee, and Quinn Valerii will cast votes to break ties. I will update this post after the poll concludes to announce the winner.
Enjoy the stories, and thanks for voting!
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Signal Cartel 2017 In-Character Writing Contest

Editor’s Note: The list of stories and links to them are at the bottom of this post.

Signaleer Quinn Valerii organized a writing contest for Signal Cartel members recently, and finally the judging has concluded and winners have been selected. The contest was judged by Quinn, myself, and Cassandra Habalu. We were all pleased and surprised at the quality of writing and storytelling; it was very difficult to choose winners. But each judge independently assigned points on accuracy, flow, and engagement and thus arrived at the results.

Winners and prizes(copied from Quinn Valerii’s results post on our forums because I’m lazy!) are shown below. Prizes were funded by the corp and with generous donations from our members.

The results of the Freeform / Ingame Based Category are:

1st place: Lucas Ballard – “When the Sisters Call” – 1 full set of Mid-Grade Virtue scanning implants
2nd place: Tom Servonaut – “Reliquary In Three Parts” – 500 Plex
3rd place: A Dead Parrot – “Almost Lost” -Pacifier Special Edition Covert Ops frigate + 250 million ISK
4th place: Thrice Hapus – “Mobira” – 300 million ISK
5th place: Saladiin – “CONCORD SCC v. EvE-Scout Enclave” – 250 million ISK

Honorable mention – System_Baud – “Something Was Wrong” – Leopard

The results of the Lore based / Roleplaying Category are:

1st place: Tom Servonaut – “Reliquary In Three Parts” – 1 full set of Mid-Grade Virtue scanning implants
2nd place: Lucas Ballard – “When the Sisters Call” – 500 Plex
3rd place: Thrice Hapus – “Mobira” – Pacifier Special Edition Covert Ops frigate + 250 million ISK
4th place: A Dead Parrot – “Almost Lost” – 300 million ISK
Joint 5th place: Bako Cherry – “The Scholar” – 250 million ISK
System_Baud – “Something Was Wrong” – 250 million ISK

Honorable mention – Tephra Solette – “Research Developments” – Leopard

The Anokis Division prize winners:

  • Tom Servonaut – “Reliquary In Three Parts”
  • Saladiin – “CONCORD SCC v. EvE-Scout Enclave”
  • Tephra Solette – “Research Developments”

Finally the Grand prize winner who wins:

  • An Enforcer – Special Edition Recon Ship
  • A Pacifier – Special Edition Covert Ops frigate
  • 1 Large skill injector
  • 1 Pilot’s Body Resculpt Certificate

is… Lucas Ballard – “When the Sisters Call”

In addition to the prizes stated above, the authors of the 10 entries eligible for category prizes will be awarded a medal to recognize their contribution. Plus, everyone who submitted an entry will also receive a grab bag containing an assortment of items which can include: lore related items, faction modules, skins, apparel and exploration related goodies worth in excess of 150 million ISK.

Now that all entries have been posted to the Signal Cartel blog, Quinn or I will put up a poll within the next day or two for the #Tweetfleet community to vote on a community favorite. The winner of that vote will earn a further prize of 1 Billion ISK.

Each of the stories has been published as a separate blog post here and are linked below for easy exploration.

The Prize-Eligible Entries

The “Honors” Entries

We hope that you will read and enjoy these stories…we all had a lot of fun writing them! We would love to have your comments on each of the story posts or on Twitter to @Mynxee or @QuinnValerii.

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Fiction: Credo’s Bounty, by Alan Mathison

“You’re really set on this?” Frank Kameny asked. “You know that you can continue to do everything you were doing before. We both know that Doc wouldn’t have any problem with you continuing the Astrographic Expedition, for example. I really think Star Tide Industries has had enough change for a while.”

“I appreciate that, Frank,” Alan Mathison responded to his old CEO. “You know this isn’t being done because I’m mad about us moving into Provi, or anything. And I know Doc would be happy to have me continue the Astrographic Expedition here, but it’s really more appropriate under Signal Cartel’s banner. There’s nothing wrong with where Star Tide is, but it’s not the corporation I joined to help build Citadels. We’ve grown, and you don’t need me for that anymore.”

The two men sat alone amidst a large cafeteria in Star Tide’s Kastoro-Stacio Citadel in the Riavayed system. Both of them held hot cups of kafo in their hands, slowly growing cold. While no announcement had been made, Kameny suspected the whole Corp knew what was going on and had decided to give these two unusual friends a bit of space.

“It’s funny as hell. A year ago I would have loved to have this conversation. I never wanted an overbearing Amarrian snob in Star Tide anyway!” Kameny said with a smile.

“And I couldn’t believe I was so desperate to work with Citadels that I’d ask a dirty, stinking Minmatar if I could join his corp,” Mathison laughed back. “And so here we are; both getting what we no longer want a year later.”

“Mynxee will take you back? You’re sure?” Kameny asked.

“Oh yea. For some reason I’ve never understood, she likes me. I wouldn’t have. Not after what I pulled at Gelhan station – asking and getting the quartermaster position and then quitting on them not 2 months later.”

“Alan Mathison,” the general Citadel intercom announced, “Your frigate is now ready in Docking Bay A94. Alan Mathison, your frigate is now ready in Docking Bay A94.”

“And that’s my ride,” said Mathison. He stood up and Kameny stood up with him. They looked at each other. Finally Kameny broke the silence.

“Take care you smug, overbearing, holier-than-thou Amarrian scum.”

“You too, you stinky Minmatar!”

After a moment’s pause both men moved into an embrace. “Thanks for everything, Alan. We couldn’t have built this Citadel without you!”

“Hey, Frank, you just need a break. Shit, you’ve been dealing with me for a year. That’d nearly kill anyone. Star Tide will be fine. Doc’ll be a great CEO. You’ll see.”

They released and Mathison moved to the door. Three-quarters of the way there, he stopped, paused, and turned around. “Frank,” he said, “Tell Doc – not a scratch! When he moves this little Citadel to Provi he better not put a scratch on the damn thing. I’ll come after him, Credo or no Credo.”

“I’ll tell him,” Kameny laughingly assured him.

“Alan Mathison, your frigate…”

“OK, OK, OK!” Mathison shouted into the air as he exited. “I hear you. God damn it! What do you think you are? My mother?”

***

“Now leaving warp. Gelhan Station now on grid. Gelhan Station now on grid!” The AI system in the frigate sounded insistent and Mathison realized he’d been thinking about his leaving Star Tide Industries yesterday perhaps with too much attention. Lose attention like that in the wrong place and a capsuleer would end up waking up nowhere near where they wanted to be. That would be annoying.

Mathison punched up a recently received email:

Of course you’re welcome back, Alan! Glad to have you —
Mynxee

Mathison inwardly smiled as he took the Astero’s controls and moved to the station’s docking bay. He didn’t think he’d ever know how he made the impression on Mynxee that he’d had, but now he had to figure out how to deserve it. He was back at Gelhan station, yes, but he wasn’t intending to get back his quartermaster position. He wanted to “ease back” into Cartel life; find something sustainable. Part of him wanted to do a “Louis Wu” and just head out to the deep, alone for a while. But if that was the case, he hadn’t needed to rejoin Signal to do that. Hell, he wouldn’t have had to leave Star Tide. No, there was something else here. He just had to spend some time to recognize it.

But first let’s pay attention to docking the damn ship, he thought. Crashing into Triffton’s docking bay would be a poor way of saying ‘Hi! I’m back!’

***

Mathison let loose a packet of eight scanner probes from his Stratios-class exploratory cruiser CSS Janet A. Mattai. If Signal Cartel people were supposed to be good at anything, it was scanning, Mathison thought.

Things looked light today – just three cosmic signatures came up. Methodically, Mathison set about scanning them down. The first two turned out to be combat sites – pirates out here trying to hide out. Some people went after them. He tended not to. At least not today.

The last signature turned out to be a wormhole. That sounded interesting. Bringing the probes back into the bay, Mathison engaged the Stratios’ warp drive and moved to the wormhole 4.6 AU away.

Quickly the wormhole came off his starboard bow. It was said you could tell where a wormhole transited by its color and corona. Apparently some people were really good at it; he wasn’t one of them. For the hundredth time he peered into and around the seething hole in space. For the hundredth time Mathison reflected that he probably wasn’t good at this because this seething anomaly in space always made him more than slightly nauseous. OK, we’ll guess Gallente space, he thought. He punched the computer to get an actual analysis.

LowSec Amarr space. Wrong again! Thank you for playing! What do we have for the losers, Adrien? as the ancient holographic game show hosts used to say. Was it worth checking out? A small taste of the home that now hated him? What the hell? Mathison hit the thrusters and the Stratios-class cruiser moved toward the wormhole. His stomach tightened for the leap through and he tried not to close his eyes. That was dangerous.

He was through! The quantum cloak was holding. He checked local scanners. Ooookay, he looked to be the only one in-system. What the hell was that bright light to port? Since he apparently was alone, he broke cloak and moved the ship to the direction of the light.

Gah! Too bright! Too bright! Mathison didn’t know if he’d thought it or had actually said the words, but the computer brought down the brightness on the screen several notches to compensate. Shit! Something’s wrong! I’m in the middle of a battle, Mathison thought. Those are exploding ships – big ones! He activated the cloak again and it took hold. That meant he was at least 2500m away from anything. Good. Why had the scanner been so wrong? He’d been the only one here. According to the scanner he still was. Wait. What system was this? He punched the scanner again.

New Eden! I’m in New Eden! The New Eden system. The first system humanity had ever come to in the cluster, Mathison mused wonderingly. That bright light wasn’t an exploding ship (largely because it was still there. It hadn’t dimmed one iota). It was the Gate! The EVE Gate…blinding him from several parsecs away!

Looking back to the scan something surprised him. Mathison was reading an Astrahaus-class Citadel several AU away. And a Raitaru-class Engineering Complex. That meant they were publicly available; he could dock at them. Interesting, he thought, that usually wasn’t the case in LoSec.

He chose the Astrahaus Citadel and hit the warp drive. Within seconds it was in front of his cruiser. He waited a couple of seconds and the tether did indeed reach out and and grab the Stratios. A tether, not a missile. Good. Mathison requested docking, and got it.

Upon docking, he found a regular Astrahaus baseliner crew in place, but no other capsuleers. Grabbing a Quafe, he found the Citadel owners were currently absent, but did come around regularly. The Citadel had regular Capsuleer visitors but militarily the system had been nice and quiet. New Eden, still, was known more for tourism and research – especially by the Sisters of EVE – than Capsuleer fights.

Hmmm, thought Mathison. Could I make a base – a home – here? He’d been thinking about a wormhole. He’d been marginally involved in the wormhole campus when he was a student at EVE University, but he’d not really given wormhole living a try. One of the possibilities he’d thought of when he rejoined Signal Cartel was its Anoikis Division. You needed some “time in grade” before you were eligible, and in the meantime this could work. Hmmmm. Hell of a view, too, thought Mathison as he gazed out the window at the blazing EVE gate.

***

The base idea had worked. It was three months later, and again, Mathison was in space orbiting an Astrahaus, but this time in the Exit system. A couple of other Signaleers had even joined him in New Eden. Today, in fact, he was in a Occator Deep Space Transport meeting one of their associates to guide them into New Eden. Signal Cartel was in the middle of one of the crazy CONCORD-allowed HiSec wars that, as a whole, they basically ignored, but it did make transport a bit difficult at times. Arielle en Distel had arranged for an associate who was not affected by the war, Morgan Garsk, to move some items for her to the New Eden system.

Arrangements like this were made all the time. Using a regular courier like Red Frog tended to be almost impossible for places like New Eden, so things were done piecemeal, in small batches. Mathison himself tended to use wormholes for transport, but those were subject to the whims of Bob, of course. Usually things were quiet in the EVE Constellation since the entire constellation was one big dead-end, but it only took one bad system to ruin your whole day. And because the constellation was a dead end, it was easy to set up a gate camp if you wanted. So it tended to get either be feast or famine; easy or deadly hard.

Mathison had been moving things to Zoohen and was on his way back to New Eden. He met Garsk in the Exit system and started a small fleet with him for the way back.

Everything went well until they got to Central Point system. Mathison was in a Deep Space Transport. Garsk was in a regular Hauler. They jumped the gate into the Promised Land. One more system ‘til home!

As they jumped in-system scanners showed two aggressor ships on gate, orbiting. An Hyperion battlecruiser and a Lachesis recon cruiser. These guys weren’t messing around. There was nothing that could be done.

“Garsk,” Mathison said, “Get ready to punch the drive and run for the New Eden gate. Run and jump. Don’t wait for me.”

“What the hell are you going to do? What can you do?”

“I’m going to drop cloak and bait them. They’ll go for me, and when they target me, you’ll be able to escape.”

“That’s dumb! Your ship is worth six times more than everything in my cargo,” Garsk objected. “Yea, but I said I’d get you to New Eden safely, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.” “Don’t be stupid!”

“Sorry,” Mathison said. “It’s what I’m known for. Warp! Warp now!” Mathison moved to engage the Hyperion, his quantum cloak dropping. He cut his coms. Now Garsk couldn’t argue. He hoped he could follow instructions.

Almost immediately the battleship and recon cruiser targeted Mathison. He let loose his drones knowing they’d not be enough. Through the viewer Mathison saw Garsk’s hauler dropping his cloak and aligning to the New Eden gate. It had worked! The battleship and cruiser were too busy with him. Both ships had launched drones against him, and now his ship shook with their damage. Ten drones. This wouldn’t take long. As if in agreement a small ship alarm went off. He’d lost over 80% of his shields already. His own board indicated he’d successfully targeted the enemy battleship and his drones had done 10% damage. Mathison smiled. He’d won. As he thought that, he lost the lock on the battleship. The enemy recon cruiser had been busy as well.

Something caught Mathison’s peripheral vision. He stole a look at one of the panels, this one monitoring the transponders in system. He’d seen one vanish. It was Garsk. He’d jumped into New Eden! All he could do is hope these people didn’t have friends there. If they did, there was nothing he could do. As if in agreement, another alarm went off in the cockpit; 80% of his armor was gone. Almost in hull. It was time to prepare to go. Mathison prepared to warp off when the Occator exploded around his pod. The third alarm – the hull alarm – sounded. The transport exploded and Mathison warped the pod away.

“GF” someone transmitted via the local beacon. Mathison sent a smile back. He wasn’t going to be bitter about this.

Suddenly a private conversation request from one Jonathon Rodriguez, the main attacker, came up. Mathison accepted it. “You got me!” he said, again smiling.

“Dude!” Rodriguez transmitted back. “Sorry, man! I didn’t realize you were with Signal Cartel”

“Yea.” Mathison punched up Rodriguez’s details in the CONCORD database files. “I didn’t realize you were with SUNDAR. I’ve been using your Citadel in Promised Land. Nice place!”

“Shit man,” Rodriguez said. “Give me a second.”

“That’s the issue with the heat of battle,” Mathison continued. “You just fight for your life.”

“I sent you ISK to replace your ship.”

“That’s very decent of you, Jonathan!”

“My mistake,” Rodriguez said. “I thought Signal Cartel was marked Blue to us. Give me a minute and I’ll give you blue.” A bit of time passed. “OK, you’re now on our private access list as well. You can access our Fortizar in Promised Land and the Citadels in the Access system as well. My bad. Safe flying to you. Won’t happen again from my alliance.”

“Thanks, Jonathan! Really decent of you. I appreciate it! Fight the good fight! o7!”

“o7!” Rodriguez ends. The transmission cut off and Mathison jumped into New Eden. Moving back to the Astrahaus to link back up with Garsk, he reflected on the power of the Credo. What had just happened wouldn’t have if if it had not been for the Credo and the reputation it had given Signal Cartel. It was interesting to reflect how much that had come to mean in a Cluster that seemed to thrive on virtually its antithesis.

The tether at the New Eden Astrahaus grabbed his little capsule and brought him to the docking bay. Well, I’m back, he thought.

Op Success!

Posted on

Fiction: Out of Anoikis, by Mynxee

In the low light of Enclave’s observation deck, I flexed my fingers and turned my hand over, marveling at how good it felt to be back in a body after over 300 years of being instantiated within the ship’s AI network. Digital had its charms but so did flesh, blood, and bone. I was examining the new internal diagnostics that ALLISON had implemented and was considering the possibility of food when I heard footsteps.

 I turned to see A Dead Parrot approaching in the flesh (more or less; he liked his cybernetics), wearing his trademark grin.

 “You don’t look a day over 900!” I declared with a smile.

 “Likewise, Mynx! I heard you were skinning up, thought you might like some company,” he said.

 “Thanks, I…”

 ALLISON’s voice abruptly filled the room. “Ahem, Captains, pardon me for interrupting…”

 I rolled my eyes at Parrot. He looked sheepish. ALLISON could be rather possessive of him and wasn’t keen on our long, close friendship.

 “…but my probes have detected a wormhole signature and sensors suggest it is stable for the moment. I strongly recommend we check it out. If you’re not too busy.”

 Same old ALLISON, I thought with a grin, still snarky after all these centuries despite how far she had evolved.

 But…a wormhole signature after all this time! I glanced at Parrot, one eyebrow raised. In a trice, we consulted the others, got consensus, and gave ALLISON the go-ahead. Even in corporeal form, our enhanced bodies were connected to the AI networks housing our digital comrades, allowing communication at almost the speed of thought.

 There was a lot of excited chatter on the AI network as we warped. It had been fourteen standard years since a wormhole signature had been detected and that one had winked out before we could even warp to it. Most of Jove space — discovered nearly 900 years earlier with the advent of new stargate technology — had fewer wormhole signatures than other regions and those sigs tended to be shorter lived. But the section of Jove space we were currently stuck in had even fewer sigs and those that did show up tended to be even more unstable.

 “Think this will be the lucky one that gets us home?” Parrot asked, putting a companionable arm around my shoulders. I leaned against him as we watched the warp tunnel effect and shook my head.

 “That’s a big fat NOPE,” I replied. But my fingers were crossed.

 In 894 years of exploring every bit of Jovian tech looking for clues or racing for those rare wormhole sigs before they collapsed, we hadn’t been able to find a way home (whatever “home” was now, after so much time had passed). Even ALLISON’s vast AI intelligence hadn’t solved the problem, much to her annoyance. So we simply kept looking and learning, leaving beacons filled with our research data in every system we found and jumping through holes when we could. It seemed we were utterly at the mercy of Bob. The only thing that kept us sane was spending most of our time digitized in the AI network either focused on complex research that might span decades or staying dark for a time, interspersed with occasional forays into physicality.

 “Here we are! Camera drones on-screen,” announced ALLISON chirpily. The observation deck viewscreen showed an odd wormhole anomaly. Ovoid instead of round, with multiple bands of pulsing color moving in different directions, narrow at the center, wider further out.

 The lively chatter went quiet.

 “Weird,” Parrot said, voicing everyone’s thoughts.

 “Captain Obvious,” Igaze observed in a musing tone.

 “Yeah,” I muttered.

 “Are we jumping through THAT?” Thrice Hapus sounded nervous. It was comforting somehow that our advanced AI tech allowed our subsumed personalities to express emotion. Maybe that’s what kept us human, I thought.

 There was half-second of intense discussion about the likelihood of being crushed, melted, disintegrated, or otherwise obliterated by this weird looking wormhole. Then Triffton Ambraelle spoke.

 “We just completed a close-range analysis. We believe it can accommodate the ship but this being the weirdest signature we’ve ever seen, we would be jumping into who knows what. ALLISON and I suggest a recon drone. It’s quick decision time, kids, before this one disappears.” His intellect had thrived in the digital substrate and he had evolved a remarkable talent for analytical collaboration with ALLISON.

 No sense pointing out the risks of that strategy. We all knew from experience that sending even a single drone through could destabilize the hole and that we might wait a very long time before another one appeared. Even taking precious seconds to discuss the matter risked the wormhole collapsing on its own.

 “Jump,” I said, voting to roll the dice. In that nanosecond while waiting for the others to vote, I wondered if New Eden had presumed us dead and whether my personality backup had been transferred to a clone. We’d been gone for centuries, after all. Two of me would be problematic indeed if this hole put us on the path back to New Eden.

 “Seconded,” Parrot said.

 The others voted seven for, three against. ALLISON didn’t vote; she was the tiebreaker when we needed one.

 “Beacon deployed; initiating jump,” ALLISON informed us. Beacon deployment was a standard procedure. Even if we didn’t survive, maybe someone would find our research and details of what happened to us.

 Enclave approached the hole, jumped, and then things got strange. Very, very strange. Reality went shaky and distorted…stretched and twisted…turned in on itself… dissolved… condensed… flashed … and went dark. It was nothing like any other wormhole jump any of us had experienced. In those scant few seconds that felt like forever, I expected the ship and all of us to be dispersed like so much space dust.

 But miraculously, reality righted itself and we were through…into a decidedly unusual place. Veils of colored light swathed space, swaying lazily like gigantic translucent sails beset with mesmerizing ripples and slow waves. Electrical discharges lit up the colorscape in irregular flashes. A small blue star glowed less than 1 AU away.

 The ship bounced. Alarms chimed. We bounced again…as both Parrot and I stumbled to chairs and held on to avoid being flung around like ping pong balls.

 “Shit!” I exclaimed.

 “No shit!” Parrot replied.

 “Mind the Credo or I’ll pull this ship over!” chided ALLISON. Did she sound…stressed?!

 The ship bounced yet again. The view out the observation deck window showed increasingly intense electrical discharges and lightning-like fingers that appeared to be reaching for the ship. Was something deliberately bumping us? And if so, what? Before we could say a word, ALLISON cut through the chatter.

 “Captains, we are warping to a signature approximately 189 AU distant and hopefully far from this mess.” ALLISON doesn’t bother to ask our permission when the shit hits the fan.

 The comforting sight of the warp tunnel appeared and we had a few seconds to analyze the data sensors had gathered before dropping out of warp at the destination signature.

 “What … is THAT?” I muttered quietly.

 An enormous wormhole-like anomaly was surrounded by an equally enormous mechanical structures that resembled other Jovian tech we had seen. Debris fields were visible at several points where there were obvious gaps in the structure. Enormous pincer-like outriggers aligned with the tips of an oddly cross-shaped wormhole, as if they were holding it in that shape. The pitch black wormhole center displayed no movement. We had no more than a few seconds of examining the visuals when Triffton spoke.

 “Whoa, whoa, whoa! I’m detecting something coming fast toward us…it almost looks like those light veils are heading our way!” he said.

 “Can we jump, ALLISON?” I asked. “We don’t want to be here when that shows up…unless we can warp to another celestial to buy some time?” The others concurred instantaneously and unanimously.

 “Now who’s Captain Obvious? Sorry, Captain, there are no other celestials in this system besides where we just came from…” replied ALLISON. “…which is odd in itself. Here we go…don’t blame me if this doesn’t work.”

 Enclave jumped. Everything went black. For what seemed a very long time. In which I had trouble remembering who I was, where I was, why I was. It struck me that perhaps this was to be my new existence…alone in a timeless blackness forever.

 But eventually, the sense of movement, light, and time returned and the ship materialized around me. I looked at Parrot, who looked back at me, those blue eyes full of questions. I shrugged, at a loss. I realized then that the network was alive with chatter and data. ALLISON was silent.

 “ALLISON, hon, what’s the story?” Parrot said. I looked over at him quizzically, mouthing “Hon?” He shrugged, a rueful grin on his face.

 “Captains,” said ALLISON, “we appear to be in a yellow star system with several planets and…well…this…”

 The viewscreen was filled with an image of the wormhole we presumably just came through. On this side, the shape as expected…round and gently shimmering…nothing strange at all there…until ALLISON zoomed the view out. Then we could see another structure like the one that had been on the other side. Only this one wasn’t damaged.

 And then ALLISON said, “Captains, I’ve conducted a cursory scan of this system’s celestials. Two gas giants, two ice giants, and a few terrestrial planets, including two temperate worlds third and fourth from the star. I read signs of civilization and industry throughout the system. And, umm…now might be a good time to share some data from a private research project of mine.”

 “What is she talking about, Parrot?” I asked.

 “I have no idea, Mynx.” he said. “ALLISON, we’re all ears, digital and otherwise.”

 ALLISON said, “Okay. Let me first connect a few dots for you. Back when we were still in New Eden, I became curious about human origins mainly due to the fact that a fossil record for humans has yet to be found. One explanation for that is that your ancestors arrived spontaneously from somewhere else – say, through a wormhole – and the facts of their arrival were lost in the chaos of civilization’s ups and downs over many millennia.

 “If that is indeed what happened, they would have brought a lot of manufactured items with them, many made from enduring materials. Some could have survived, even after many tens of thousands of years. Possibly some of it has been found but never carbon dated for age. Or reproductions of the originals exist that aren’t nearly as old. I began to search for and collect ancient relics and artifacts through agents, planetary explorers, researchers, historians, and others. I have quite a stash of both physical items and digital records of items that were subsequently lost or destroyed. One of those things…”

 The display changed to show a drawing of a collection of symbols within a larger circle.

 “…is this. This drawing is a reproduction of a page from an ancient book discovered on some planet or another. One of my agents sent me the image. This…”

 ALLISON circled an irregular starburst symbol.

 “…is a pulsar map, as you probably realize. I have had a monitor set to ping me should we enter any system that appears to match the information in that map. And well…it pinged within seconds of jumping into this system. While the pulsars I can detect from here are not quite in the same locations as the map indicates, stellar drift could account for that. I am convinced that this ancient map is showing the location of the very system we are now in.”

 No one spoke. What were the odds that getting lost–or more properly, stranded–in Jove space for centuries and then finding our way out through two weird wormholes would bring us to this? It was almost too much to process. Everyone began to chatter at once, questioning, speculating, wondering.

 In the next moment, ALLISON cut us off with sharp “CAPTAINS! A wormhole has appeared on grid, on screen now.”

 As I turned to look at the viewscreen, I was sure she had sounded rattled. That was rare enough to be concerning. The viewscreen showed the new wormhole now on grid with us and the wormhole we had entered through. As we looked at it, a large, sleek luminous ship suddenly materialized. Parrot and I gawked, then looked at each other. My own concerns and fears were reflected in his worried eyes. I took his arm and said “Let’s park these SKINs and subsume.” He nodded but didn’t move, too mesmerized by the unexplained ship to move.

 ALLISON interrupted our thoughts, “Captains, defenses are up but…what…” – I swear she squeaked – “…we are being hailed. And scanned as well.”

 “On screen, please.” I said.

 “Already done.” ALLISON said.

 The viewscreen flashed gray and then suddenly resolved to show a face that was at once human and yet utterly alien…androgynous; hairless; pale patterned skin; delicate features; large silvery-gray eyes, a fleshy fin-like ridge running from forehead to crown adorned with a mesh of fine silver wires, and sleek external cybernetics visible behind narrow elongated ears. The being stared at us appraisingly for a several tense moments, raised one nonexistent eyebrow, and then said,

 “Fascinating.”

 Spoken in our own language! After a few stunned seconds, ALLISON replied, since the rest of us were apparently too dumbstruck to do so.

 “Greetings. This is peaceful exploration vessel Enclave, hailing from the Thera system in New Eden. We seek friendship and knowledge.”

 The being…smirked.

 “Greetings from the Talocan Empire. We have analyzed your ship’s data. Prepare to be boarded.”