The Billionaire Buccaneer

So long and thanks for all the ISK

2006-11-21T12:17:00.000Z

I've joined a corporation, plus I've kind of lost my muse. Maybe later. See you in space.

Entry 14: Hot Latin Pirate-on-Pirate Action

2006-10-26T19:00:00.000Z

Okay, if I have any readers left at this point, please forgive me for my temporary dive into RPishness. It had to be done. In my defense, it was fan service. No, not you. My Lovely Assistant loves reading that stuff. Really, she does. And she can be very persuasive. Anyway, let's continue with my semi-humorous rantings.

Today, I killed my first pirate. In general, I adopt a “live and let live” approach toward my fellow pirates. But it’s apparent that many, many pirates are only too happy to prey on any ship they see in space.

The day started out normally enough. I was hunting and scanning for random passers-by whose ships are badly in need of extra ventilation … when all of the sudden, I see a flashing red bar pop onto my overview. The last vestiges of carebear instincts took hold and I immediately warped out of the belt.

As I was zipping through the warp tunnel, I took a quick look at my attacker and his ship.

A Caracal? I ran from a freaking CARACAL?! Oh, the shame. Fortunately, while I’d only gotten enough of a look at Fronesis to determine his name and ship class, it appears that he got even less useful information about my ship. At any rate , he decided to pursue me to the planet, just in time for me to redeem myself.

In hindsight, he probably thought that I was flying a standard frigate. Which is yet another great thing about the Jaguar: On the overview, it looks almost EXACTLY like a Rifter.

He quickly learned that "Come and See" was no little Rifter. His Caracal was broken in seconds, while I was sitting pretty with about virtually all of my shields still intact.

Later, I decided to interview my victim, to see what was going through his mind before, during and after he engaged me.

His response, while decidedly unhelpful, certainly was interesting.

Aren’t we El Senor Internacionale? Obviously, someone got screwed on a bargain basement translator.

I briefly considered rephrasing the question in a way that he understood, but meh. Naked force is the universal language. He understood that much just fine.

Entry 13: Mother Thukkers Part 4

2006-10-16T17:00:00.000Z

My wingman’s voice crackled over the comms, “Captain Ledoux, I’m reading two contacts on the long range scanners.” He was on loan to me from the Thukker shipyards where I bought and modified my Jaguar (Name: Come and See).

The shipyard’s foreman sent a young apprentice along to see how my modified Jaguard fared on its first combat trial. I heard a rumor that the betting pool heavily leaned towards the likelihood that my power conduits would melt, explode and then catch fire the moment that the shields started taking damage.

“Yeah, I see them. Looks like a Covetor-class mining barge and a … yeah, that’s an Armageddon. I’m also reading a lot of combat drones.”

“Daaaaaamn … oh well, it would have been nice to tear up a Covetor, but that 'Geddon would eat you alive … Sir? Is your warp drive going active?”

“That’s a roger, son. Time for a little bang bang.”

“There’s no way you’re going to survive that kind of punishment. If the drones don’t get you, that 'Geddon will!”

“One way to find out.” With that, the warp bubble wrapped me in its shaky, scary shell and off I went to start some trouble.”

I popped into the belt about 20 kilometers from the fat grape of a Covetor. I immediately fired up my microwarp drive and streaked straight at him in excess of 2200 meters per second. I don’t know if the Covetor and Armageddon pilots were sleeping at the conn or if they simply couldn’t bring themselves to believe that I’d actually attack, but they didn’t even react until I had already targeted, set an orbit and opened fire on the Covetor. The Covetor tried to align for the nearest station, but my warp disruptor killed any chance of him getting away.

Then the drones finally realized what I was up to and started streaking towards me. Then, the 'Geddon’s pilot decided to lay into me with his huge battery of lasers. My small size combined with my speed greatly reduced the damage the lasers could inflict, but I was more than a little worried when 10 Hammerhead started crawling all over me. I was just starting to miss not having a shield booster module when the Covetor’s hull started to buckle.

“Get in here, Junior! You’re on salvage detail!”

“But what about the Arma-”

“Get your ass in here while he's still shooting at me or I'll kill you myself!!”

After my less than gentle encouragement, my wingman warped in just as the Covetor’s former pilot started streaking off in his pod. He was just in time to make a quick salvage run on the ravaged Covetor. It was only then that my shields were finally breached, forcing us to make a run for it. The 'Geddon was far too bewildered to even consider a pursuit.

After taking possession of two “Rockpopper II” modulated strip mining lasers, we set course for the shipyards. As I calculated their market value, I realized that I had almost paid for my new toy on its maiden combat voyage. Arrrr indeed.

As I hid out waiting for my shields to recharge and my global criminal countdown to expire, I overheard my victim berating his companion about his failure to protect him from my tiny ship. Later, I heard that the disgraced 'Geddon pilot pursued my young wingman all over the constellation in an attempt to blast him to Kingdom Come. Unfortunately, he failed to realize that a) he had chased his quarry into a Concord-controlled system and b) the young man had never fired a shot at him or his friend in the Covetor. The police response was swift and brutal. The young man was able to loot well over 30 million ISK in gear from the smoking wreck. At last check, he's working on setting up a shipyard of his own.

Entry 12: Mother Thukkers, Part 3

2006-10-14T21:08:00.000Z

Introducing the Jaguar, Caldari-style

As I was reviewing the ship specs for the Jaguar, I noticed something very interesting: At it’s most basic level, it’s a huge step up from the Rifter-class frigate it’s built on. It gives a pilot a high level of combat ability for a relatively low cost. However, if the pilot in question happens to be a multibillionaire with a taste for the best, and if the same pilot has access to advanced shield and propulsion technology …

To start off, I replaced the standard power core with a “Phoenix” core that used up all of the low-power slots and cost as much as the ship itself. However, it augmented the amount of power grid available, as well as noticeably improving the capacitor and shield systems. I needed the extra juice so I could slap on a “Wyrmscale II” medium shield extender, straight from the engineering labs of New Caldari, the kind of shield augmentation systems typically only found on cruisers.

Between the power upgrades and the custom Caldari shield generator, my tiny ship now has more than triple its original shield strength, giving it a stronger shield than the average cruiser. On top of all that, the onboard computer sets the shields to a frequency that resists the electromagnetic and thermal based weaponry that shields are typically very weak against.

To round things off, I slapped on a “Dragonbreath Mk. II” 1 megaNewton microwarp drive for speed, a “Rockstopper” kinetic deflection to improve shield resistance, a “Bubble Burster” warp scrambler, a few 200mm “Hailstorm” autocannons and a “Knave” nosferatu device.

After my own private episode of Pimp My Ship, I had a frigate-sized ship that had stronger shields than the typical cruiser, enough speed and agility to serve as an adequate interceptor, and while the weapon systems don’t deal out a huge amount of raw damage, the inherent versatility of Minmatar ammunition ensures that I’ll be able to tailor my damage output to take advantage of any gaps in an enemy ship's defenses. To add insult to inevitable injury, most recognition systems have difficulty telling the difference between the Jaguar and a typical Rifter.

But as impressed as I was by the new ship specs, I would have never believed how well it performed in its first combat test …

Entry 11: Mother Thukkers, Part 2

2006-10-10T19:11:00.000Z

If the men you grew up with looked like

this, you'd think I was handsome, too.

Recently, My Lovely Assistant insisted that we undergo a “Bonding ceremony” in order for us to continue to pursue certain aspects of our relationship. She wasn’t very long on details, but I soon discovered that it involved a bit of travel, tattooing, and more than a little bleeding. And let’s not even mention the honeymoon.

Not that I was opposed to a little pain, so long as there was a bit of pleasure to be had afterward. So after a little thought, I agreed to join her on a trek out to Thukker-controlled space for a month-long visit with her clan in the The Great Wildlands.

While I was there, I couldn’t help but appreciate the capabilities of Thukker-designed ships. Like any good Caldari, I had always believed that all Minmatar ships were little more than crudely designed pieces of space junk with engines and weapons strapped to them. At a closer look, however, I found that while Matari ships are definitely short on frills, they are durable, reliable, fast and (most important of all,) flexible.

As any military man will tell you, the ability to react and adapt to any threat is an invaluable resource in combat. More to the point, if you can’t adapt to changing enemy tactics and capabilities, you may as well retreat while you still have a ship to call your own.

Unfortunately, when I said this aloud, I didn’t know just how keen the Thukkers are to promote and sell their custom-designed ships to anyone with enough ISK to buy them. Also, I had no idea that My Lovely Assistant comes from a long line of combat pilots and, more importantly, shipwrights. She’s even a direct descendent of the legendary Thukker interceptor pilot Ba’run Vonr’ktoven, known as “The Red Ba’run.” So to make a long story slightly less long, her family immediately took my appreciation of Thukker-designed ships as a promise to immediately acquire several of them for my own personal use.

In the end, to celebrate our impending Bonding, I was given (and by “given,” I mean that I was obligated to pay a large sum of money for) a Jaguar-class assault frigate. It was a good thing that I planned on staying in The Great Wildlands for a while, because it was going to take me a couple of weeks just to be able to fly the damned thing.

But then, while I was studying the system specs, I noticed something that made me smile a very, very cruel smile …

Entry 10: Mother Thukkers, Part 1

2006-09-25T21:26:00.000Z

Warning: Contains large doses of Roleplay.

My lovely assistant has been the focus of a lot of attention lately. I am constantly approached with questions about her. Where did you meet her? Is she your soulmate? What does she fly? Is she as evil as you? Why did she pod me? Can I have her when you die?

To answer your last question first, shut up. To answer the questions in the middle, I recommend several years of being poked with dull needles by sociopathic psychiatrists. And to answer your first question, read on.

As any true son of Caldar, I love to gamble. Ever since I was a grunt during the War of Gallente Aggression, I've been keen to bet a little money on this and that. Even now, I keep a pack of playing cards on board for those out-of-pod experiences.

Back before I was a wealthy scoundrel, I found myself out on the fringes of "Lawdog don't come round here, savvy?" space where I met up with this Amarr slave-trader by the name of Who-The-Hell-Cares. Apparently, some youngblood Matari pirates were out and about, trying to bust up his business. So he was laying low. By the time I met up with him, he'd been stuck in station for months, and he was starting to get more than a little eager for distraction. Also, by that point, the Matari made it clear that no ships were leaving the system until they had done what they came to do, so I was stuck there with him.

Now, before I go on, let me explain something. I don't like slavers. I mean, I don't have a problem with anyone who makes his money from the suffering of others. That's just the cost of doing business. But depending on slaves is a sign of weakness in my book. If you can't do something yourself, then you don't deserve to see it done. Add to that the fact that I've never met an Amarr who wasn't completely convinced that his people were the crowning light of the universe, and never mind that they have the smallest per-capita number of pod pilots of all the empires, and it doesn't take a science graduate to see that the Amarr empire is going nowhere fast.

Anyway, it didn't take too long before I'd nearly cleaned out Mr. WTHC. I'd just laid down a fat chunk of (mostly his) money on a sweet hand. Apparently, he thought his hand was sweeter, because then he pulled out the big guns. But since he was pretty much out of ISK, he decided to dip into his merchandise to call my hand. He disappeared into his cargo hold for a while and came back with a sassy little Matari girl. Now, like I said, I'm not a fan of slavers, and I sure as hell don't want to become one myself. It was totally within my rights to force him out of the hand and take my winnings. However ...

While he was babbling something about how she'd never been touched by a neuro-whip or infected with Vitoc, I noticed the plug-holes that she was trying to conceal with plastiskin. He didn’t mention it in his sales speech, so he probably didn’t know that he had a pod-fitted Minmatar pilot on his hands. A nasty little plan started to form in my mind.

"Alright, she'll do to call. Show your cards."

Words cannot describe how self-satisfied that smug little bastard look when he turned over a full house. And I'd have to start making various rude noises to describe how quickly that look fell off his face when I dropped four queens on the table. He sat back, looking more than a little green. He got even more sick looking when I started gathering up my cash and cards.

After tucking the lucre away, I ask my new acquisition, "So what would you do if I freed you, anyway?"

As she looked me dead in the eye, she pointed a slightly raggedy fingernail at her former owner. "I would ask to borrow a knife … and then I would gut him."

One impromptu Amarr anatomy lesson later …

“Can you fly this garbage scow?” I asked my new friend.

“I would never,” she growled. “But if we offer to sell it cheaply enough, we should be able to sell it quickly enough to purchase and outfit a Rifter.”

I pretended not to notice the significance of her use of the word “we”.

“Any brilliant ideas on how we’re going to get out of the system?”

She grinned at me in a way that made me think that she only did so when she was thinking nasty thoughts. “Those Thukker Tribe ‘pirates’ out there? Those are my people. Getting permission to leave the system will be no problem. You’ve got worse things to worry about. You’ve won the freedom of a Thukker princess, and you’re going to need all of the spirits of the ancestors to save you now.”

Entry 9: Pirates Break the Rules. I'm a Pirate.

2006-09-05T23:40:00.000Z

Did you miss me? Well, I've been busy. Done a little bit of buccaneering, but not as much as I'd like, really.

In this entry, I'd like to announce that I'm breaking a Rules. And not just any Rule. I'm breaking Rule #1.

#1 The only money I can make will be from piracy. Ransoms, bounties, and the sale of plunder are the only allowable forms of income. Any money recieved from other sources will be immediately transferred to my lovely assistant (my fiance, who also plays Eve).

In my defense, I AM a pirate. Pirates break rules. Even our own rules. ESPECIALLY our own rules.

So why am I doing it? Why am I disrupting my little experiment in piracy for profit? In a word, diversity. Piracy is fun, and it CAN pay the bills. However, Rule #1 was giving me more problems than it was worth. It was making me too afraid to spend my own money. I kept trying to live on a shoestring budget because I was trying to be profitable. In other words, I was acting like I was poor. If that's not stupid, then it'll do until something better comes along. And since I don't usually think of myself as stupid, Rule #1 had to go.

So what am I doing with my money? Well, I'm using some of it for trading. I keep my eye out for deals and resell for a profit. Also, I've been investing in the stock market. In a way, it's just a different kind of buccaneering, only I use money instead of missiles.

Anyway, I think I want to get to where my piracy isn't about the money. Intead, it's about the pure, unadulterated joy I get blowing up someone's precious ship and then getting away to fight another day. And gives me GREAT joy. It does, it does.

Okay. More later. Probably. Sorry about the lack of updates. But if you're not completely satisfied, please see the manager for a full refund of your purchase price.

Entry 8: Hijacking is Fun. Hate Tells Are More Fun.

2006-08-16T23:36:00.000Z

You know what I've discovered? It's nice finding out you have fans, but not so nice when your fans are addicted to the retarded shit that comes out of your brain. But moving right along. I've changed the title thingy of the entries to "Entry X" instead of "Day X" since we all know I'm not updating daily. But enough blathering! On with the fun blathering!

I'm a hijacker! Not in the "I stole someone's ship" sense (although that sounds like a lot of fun). More in the "Your cargo is now mine" sense. And the best part is that I also got my first hate tell! I'm TINGLY over here!

So there I was, bumming around the system. I warp into a belt and notice a can that's marked with a time stamp. A very recent time stamp, to boot. "Ah ha!" I cackle to myself madly (can you think of another way to cackle to yourself?) "Looks like a miner has gone to get his hauler!!" Sure enough, a few seconds later, a Badger II heaved itself into the belt.

Damn!! I was hoping he'd be able to warp in closer to his can! Even so, I was able to pounce on him quickly enough. Unfortunately, he was stabbed up to his eyeballs, and he was able to make his escape. However, when I looked into the can he'd left behind, I found a good 2.5 million in rocky loot. Time to call in reinforcements.

"HONEY!!! GET YOUR MAMMOTH!!!"

"Are you going to help me clean the kitchen?"

"GODDAMMIT, WOMAN?! DO I HAVE TO DO EVERYTHING MYSELF?!?"

Anyway, after some bad noise, My Lovely Assistant started making her way to the system in question. Meanwhile, my new friend asked if he could grab his ore without getting shot to hell. My ore now, bitch! Although I did offer to sell it to him for a very reasonable price. I also implied that I would destroy the can if my demands weren't met. He more or less refused, and then started chatting me up in local, telling me how bored he was and how nice it was to have someone to talk to. Alarm bells started sounding in my head. I mean, I know that miners get a little funny in the head sometimes, but ...

Fortunately, the light of my life wasted no time sliding up and snagging all that lovely ore. (By "wasted no time," I don't mean, "threatened to cancel both of our accounts." That came later.) she was even clever enough to make the mark believe that she was just passing through the system. Her semi-panicky "Pirate?! Oh fuck!" was just perfect. Anyway, just as we about to jump out of the system, the number of local pilots took a significant jump. The cavalry has arrived. They must've come through another gate, however, because we were able to make it out of the system and to the local market hub without a hitch.

As we were sitting in the station, frolicking in piles of newly refined minerals, my Caldari Issue Comm Thingy (CITC) started beeping. Hello, my benefactor.

Awww, his poor can. He really thought that I'd blow up such a valuable source of iskies. But now that he knew the truth ...

The "shit of eve"? I thought PIRATES were the ... oh ... wait. But then, the real (corn) nugget of wisdom!!

The best part about this statement is that he says this as I'm reading everything he types to a gorgeous woman who thinks the sun rises in my pants, while we both laugh cruel, cruel laughter.

Since I'd just made a decent profit, and I'm feeling philosphical, I try to calm his raging heart.

However, my attempts at Zenning him out fall somewhat short of the mark.

And then, the inevitable threat.

Then he tried to play off how small the loss was to him. "It only took me half an hour to mine it, anway." That's cool. It only took me five minutes to steal it. Who's more efficient now, my good man?

Oh, and because this whole situation isn't funny enough ... take a look at this choice tidbit from his bio ...

Note the blood-red typeface for emphasis. Apparently, it's only okay to be a hijacker if it makes a poor Chinese man lose his job. Remind me to petition CCP for all the Security Status hits I took for harassing koopl and friends.

As I shook my head over this contradiction, my CITC started beeping again. Remind me to set my Comm Fee Thingy (CFT) to elventy-two billion ISK.

I'm with you on this one. I was totally expecting more scat-themed threats. But no, this guy wanted to commend me for my clever scheme of ransoming a jet can. Seriously, if I'm the first person to think of that, the Eve piracy community isn't nearly as sharp as I thought.

Of course, this was all a clever ruse. "Want to gang up and kill some rats?" Ah ha! Admiral Ackbar once again sang a song for me. Remember, kids. Paranoid people are harder to kill. Stupid people are not.

Anyway, if you're still reading this (you poor doomed fool), look for two (TWO? YES, TWO!!) updates sometime tomorrow. Or maybe one really long update. No promises.

Ending balance: 1,908,000,000
Victims: 0 (but only if you count kills)
Security Status: -0.5

Day 5: Azn Extravaganza!!!

2006-08-08T03:40:00.000Z

(Note: I'm way behind on my updates. I actually have a lot of content to bang out, though. In the mean time, I'm posting from work and all of my pictures are at home. I'll post more when I get a chance. You'll survive.)

Woo, what a fun day (of course, by "day," I mean whatever time period I cover in an entry)!! Remember koopl and his pals? One Hoarder and 3-6 Navitases (Navitae? Navitum?)? Well, I caught them molesting rocks again. And I learned something. I was certain that all of those pilots were really controlled by one person, running a bunch of trial-period alts to satisfy his demented lust (in the BAD way) for ore. But ... surprise! They're not!

They are actually dedicated, hardworking, salt of the earth ISK Asian farmer monkeys. And not the kind that makes loads of ISK and sells it so they can feed their families, either. They're the kind that constantly gets splattered across random systems by everyone who shows up with any excuse for weapons and the ability to fire them. The kind that would probably make 50 times what they currently make if they lived in .5 or higher. The kind whose children will inevitably starve to death because Papa can't keep an eye on Local. I'd almost feel sorry for them if it wasn't so much fun popping their ships.

My lovely assistant and I have caught up with them a couple of times since my last blog entry (usually settling for blasting koopl's Hoarder, since killing that ship puts them out of action for up to an hour.) I don't make much money off them (a Miner II or three is usually the best thing I can find), especially since I religiously destroy any ore they've collected (do I really need to say three Hail Marys before popping a jet can, or can I get by with an occasional "Hare Krishna, Hare Krishna"?).

Anyway, my latest encounter with "Koopl and the Gang" (OMGMotown reference!!) was the most amusing to date. I started easily enough: I harried them to no end, destroying several vessels and cargo cans. But during the exchange of hostilities, the Gang started talking in Local. At first, it was a simple, "No" from koopl, which I presume was in response to the imminent destruction of his Hoarder (again). I answered their conversational foray with, "Oh, yes. Yes, yes, yes." Then the others started chiming in ... in Chinese.

Oh noes! My original suspicion was right after all!!! Finally, one of them (zxhjzklxjz or some such nonsense) said ... something. Hell, I don't know. It was such a mangled attempt at English that my mind was unable to retain it, but it was something along the lines of "why beat on the door to fortune when the door could swing both ways?" Only it wasn't that well said. However, I definitely got the idea that they were trying to pay me off.

At this point, I decided that maybe some negotiation was in order. At first, I demanded a tribute of five million ISK. In exchange, I would stop harassing them mercilessly (although I had already made a mental note to pass on their names and locations to others who would also harass them mercilessly.)

Unfortunately, they were unable to afford such a princely (or at least, dukely) sum. Instead, they offered me two million. AND they wanted me to help them! ME ... HELP THEM!!

"Help? What kind of help?"

"help wit pirat. he kil ships"

So I responded as any true pirate should. "If you don't give me my money, you wastes of bandwidth are going to have two pirates to worry about!!"

Bear in mind that this conversation took place over 10 very painful minutes (I was waiting for my Criminal Countdown to run down) and posting the direct transcript of the conversation has been banned under the Yulai Conventions. Kind of like haiku, only haiku doesn't make blood shoot out of your ears because your brain cells are trying vainly to escape your head.

no look at locl

pirat kil our conveyance

my childrn wil starv

And hey! What other pirates could they be talking about anyway? There was no one else in local. (There was one guy who caught some of the conversation. He asked "Are you charging a toll? How much do I have to pay?" "Nah, you're good. I'm extorting the AZNS." "Okay, cool.")

Are they having trouble moving the new Hoarder into the system? Hell, why bother? I'm just going to blow it up again. It would be faster and more interesting if they just flew it into the sun.

And then ... the denouement. (Look it up, dammit.)

"he bad pirat. he destroy our conveyance ship also our miners"

Conveya-wait, cargo? He destroyed their cargo ship? And their ... I'll be damned ... they're talking about ME!!

You heard right. These poor dumb bastards wanted to hire me to hunt down and kill myself. For this, they were willing to pay the squirely sum of two million ISK.

I almost agreed, too. Something along the lines of, "If you pay me, I guarantee he'll leave the system." But instead, I went with, "You doofy bastage!! *I* did all those things!!! I *AM* the pirate!!"

Silence. Not a word. I guess I'm not their friend anymore.

Oh well. Hunting these guys to extinction is worth far more than two million ISK. Hell, I was only willing to take that much because I wanted to say that I'd done it.

---------------------

In other news, I've gone yellow. Negative security standings for the win. Arrrrr.

Ending balance: 1,905,400,000
Victims: 5
Security Status: -0.5

Day 4: My Lovely Assistant

2006-08-03T22:24:00.000Z

She's even hotter in real life.
No, you can't have "hawt cam pix."

Stop asking. Perv.

As I've mentioned previously, my fiance also plays Eve. This is because she is made of pure awesome. Originally, I tried to get her interested in watching me play, or at least not actively opposed to being in the same room with me while I was playing. I had just begun to despair when she asked, "So how do *I* create a character?" If I hadn't already been in love with her, that would have done it.

At first, she joined Eve University, just like me. And when I decided to embark on my life of crime, she came with me. She doesn't play as much as I do, and she only plays when I'm playing, so her combat experience is pretty limited. Which is to say that it's limited to the two of us sparring against each other or her getting blown up by other players. Or rats. Or gate guns. Or asteroids (and rats). Yes, dear reader. My girlfriend is a noob. But hey, nobody takes over the universe the day they leave the clone vats, right?

I've been more or less managing her skill progression, and we're just now getting past her Learning skills. She has adequate ship skills right now, but she hasn't had enough play time to really get a feel for ship-to-ship combat. (But that hasn't kept her from almost killing me a few times during our little sparring matches. In other news, I have officially given up on trying to kill battleships with an interceptor.)

So to help her train, I bought her 10 Rifters and enough gear to kit them all out for tackling. I think I'm going to send her out to low sector space with orders to attack ANYONE she sees. I figure that, after she burns through all of the Rifters, she might have an idea or two about PvPing. And if not ... well, she can always be a 5-second meatshield. I have to admit that most of the time, flying around with my hot little wingwoman is a ball, even if we can't find anyone worth killing. Hell, sometimes I'm just glad that she doesn't make me quit playing entirely. Other times, I just want to pod her.

Did I say that out loud?

Anyway, I'm trying to help her break her "pirate cherry" now. Twice, I've offered her the kill on (noob) victims I've scrambled and webbed, but she's demured both times. Maybe I should start screaming "OH, JESUS!! HE HAS ME!!! HELP!! HEEEEELP!!!" and just hope that she doesn't think to question how a Navitas with 2 civilian mining lasers could be a threat to a Hawk. It could happen.

--------------------------

But don't think I sat in the station all day and cavorted with the star of Sebiestor Sorority Sex-Slaves 7! (That only took about half the day.) I did squeeze in time to kill a couple of noobs today. Remember koopl? Well, he's still out there with a half-dozen or so trial alts mining for all they're worth. He's learned to keep his industrial away from the belt until his alt-drones have enough cargo to make it worth his while, but that doesn't stop me from killing the alts that I can catch, scattering the rest like geese and destroying his cargo containers. One of them had a Miner II, but there wasn't much real profit today. I'm still scouting the area and getting a feel for the different systems in my hunting range.

I'm gonna go camping* this weekend. Yes, I know that there are bears in the woods. I'll probably survive. I'll get back to the killin' after the weekend.

Ending balance: 1,919,600,000
Victims: 2
Security Status: 0.1

*not gate camping.

Day 3: A Ransom Attempt Goes Wrong ... Luckily

2006-08-02T22:07:00.000Z

Okay, I have a hard-on for my first successful ransom. I'm more than happy to let some poor tard go with a token ransom, just so I can say that I finally got someone to give me money for NOT hurting him. So when I found an Osprey out ratting, I thought, "Jackpot, Baby!!" And I was right, but not in the way that I expected.

I performed the standard "Swoop, Lock and Jam," pumped a few rounds through him to let him know how quickly I could eat his lunch and opened up a convo.

"I'm sure we can come to an arrangement here," I say, because I think I'm suave.

"ok," he replied tersely.

"Two million sound about right?"

"Sure."

ECK-sellent, I think to myself. I've waited so long for this.

But right then, his drones finish off the last rat. The next thing I know, they're on my ass like drunken frat boys on a fat chick. And even though I was able to destroy his ship quite quickly, his rats put quite a dent into my ship. But since I was the only one left in the system now, I was about to take my time rooting through his cargo hold. A few decent items were to be had, but then I heard a "ding". Right then, I saw the following:

Best sell price on the market: 28.5 million ISK. Screw ransoms, I thought. This is OMGPHATLEWT.

Looking over my victim's info panel, I realize something. He wasn't just some noob ratting where he had no business. He's actually got his own corporation. I have officially bagged my first CEO!

Okay, so there are only five people in his corp and he's probably three of them. I just MIGHT have people who are holding a grudge against me. Yarrr!

I did get one more kill today, but the other one was just another 18 day old noob in a Navitas. There was nothing noteworthy about the kill except that I brought my lovely assistant along and, although I offered her the kill, she decided that she wasn't quite ready to break her pirate cherry. Another time, then. Anyway, my victim (whose name escapes me) whined in local, promised to get revenge and then left to write bad goth poetry.

Ending Balance: 1,919,000,000
Victims: 2
Security Status: 0.6

Day 2 - Celebrity, Setbacks and OMGAZNS!

2006-08-02T03:35:00.000Z

Before I begin this day's journal, I'd just like to announce that I appear to be famous. Well, semi-famous. Kind of like that one guy from Survivor. You know, the second one to get voted off. YOU KNOW, the one with the face and the thing. Anyway, you'd recognize him if you met him. Anyway, I'm like that guy now. People say, "Hey, did you really make 2 billion ISK in Eve University?" Yes, yes I did.

Remember Leikeze? He tells me, "Hey, you wrote about me in your blog?" Hooray, you're almost as famous as me now. You're like the brother of the second guy who got voted off the island. Now you can do an infomercial.

Sometimes people (and there's a word for these people that starts with an 'N' and rhymes with 'goob') say, "Are you out here pirating?" Nope. Go about your business.

I can't even buy ammunition without the guy who sold it to me saying, "Hey, I just read your blog." Sweet, gimme a discount next time.

Anyway, time to get over myself for long enough to chronicle my harrowing adventures. And today's adventures WERE harrowing. I lost my first ship. Yes, my favorite interceptor, "They Also Are Flesh" was destroyed by rats, working in conjunction with my internet service provider. I was only offline for about 2 minutes, but it was two minutes too long for my baby.

The good news is that a) there was a station in the system, so I could dock and get myself a noobship and b) only one very minor module and a little bit of ammo was destroyed in the explosion. But it forced me to spend more money. First, I had to replace the ship I lost. Then, I bought another Crow for good measure (the prices just couldn't be beat). And to make sure I wouldn't have to creep up on the gate in an Ibis anymore, I also dropped the cash for the Placid bookmarks.

But that isn't to say that I didn't have a bit of fun. As you'll note from my greatly diminished Security Status, I got my very first podkill. I know, I said I wouldn't do that, but I feel justified. Lookit him. Someone needs more fiber in his diet.

Hey, I TRIED to ransom the guy, but he didn't have anything ... at least, I assume he didn't have anything, because his name was "koopl" and he was flying a Hoarder working with guys flying noobships, mining for all that they were worth:

OMGAZNS!! You'll note that koopl isn't in local anymore. That's because his frozen corpse was tucked into a corner of my cargo hold. I think I'll have him stuffed.

Anyway, I don't know if they're Chinese ISK farmers or if someone with a bunch of processor power is trying to get over on the system without risking his own character. I don't like it, and so I did something about it. Destroying a few thousand units of ore just wasn't enough. He just had to die. Plus, unless this guy thought to put his industrial character's clone nearby, he's going to have a long hump from Minmatar space. So yeah, a good time was had by all. And by all, I mean me.

We come in peace, shoot to kill.

UPDATE: And SPEAKING of Asians, it looks like Goonswarm is having a ball. They've created what I'm sure they're referring to as "Gookswarm": A horde of new characters, all named "VCBeeXXX" where XXX is a random number. These guys, I'll be leaving alone ... mostly because I kind of like Goonswarm. They're playing Eve in their own way, and it's pissing off all of the established alliances in a big way. You gotta dig that.

Apparently, Goonswarm has declared war on all of the big local alliances. The best outcome I can see for this would be for the Goons to lose all of their territory. Then they'd decide that they don't NEED territory, and they'd just swarm all over other people's sovereign space until their enemies get sick of being pestered 23/7 and the alliance falls apart. Chaos for the win!!

Ending balance: 1,894,000,000
Victim: 1 (plus pod)
Security Status: 0.9

Day 1: Piracy, Porn and Pew-Pew

2006-07-30T04:05:00.000Z

Oh, happy weekend. It's time for me to be as free as a bird. A bird who spews rockets, blaster rounds and despair.

But my lovely assistant isn't feeling well. Okay, that'll cut into the old playing time.

Eventually, however, I did get a bit of piracy in. Here's how it went.

I departed my home station in my Crow-class interceptor (Name: They Also Are Flesh) and wandered through a few low-security systems nearby. At first, it was nearly impossible to find anyone worth killing. Which is to say, I couldn't find anyone at all.

But patience paid off. Warping into a belt, who do I find but my first victim!

This poor guy was a wreck: A Civire mining in a Probe in Gallente space. Do you have any idea how twisted you have to be for the School of Applied Knowledge to transfer you to their Gallente campus? If this guy wasn't caught humping the Dean of Admission's son ... actually, I'm pretty sure I don't want to know to know the whole story here.

Anyway, in my excitement, I MWD in and warp jam young Rudi B. I open up a private convo and proudly scream, "GIVE ME YOUR LUNCH MONEY!!" (You have no idea how long I'd been waiting to say that and mean it).

I wait patiently. I'm sure he's just trying to process my request through a haze of Blue Pill and Minmatar fetish porn.

And then I wait some more. After a while, I stopped waiting (besides, what is he going to give me? A half-eaten stripper and a home tattoo kit?) and I blow his ship. Bizarrely, he doesn't stop mining the whole time. At first, I thought that he was AFK, but then I remembered that he ACCEPTED my request for a private chat. Clearly, not the most cunning of foes.

Sorting through the trash that he considered cargo, I found an even more puzzling array of loot. Apparently, Rudi was not only a Caldari who hung around Gallente space in a Minmatar ship. He was also fond of Amarr energy weapons. Truly, I had stumbled upon a cosmopolitan soul. As I scratched my head, I grabbed a frequency crystal as a memento and moved on.

After a break in the station, I go out looking again. Amazingly, Rudi is back at it. This time, he's in his freebie Ibis. Once again, the fact that blaster rounds are bouncing off his hull fails to distract him from Barely Legal Brutor Babes 5. However, before I can make the kill, a new player arrives on the stage.

Yeah, my former carebear instincts kicked in when I saw the flashing red bar. Besides, I'm not feeling badass enough to fight this guy to decide who gets to kill Rudi the Drug-crazed Porn Junkie. "He's all yours," I say as I fire up my engines. Moments later, I recieve confirmation that Rudi has gone to the big clone vat in the sky. As I settle into my safespot, I look more closely at Leikeze's info panel. "Uber carebear"? Clearly, he and I have radically different definitions of "carebear".

Actually, Leikeze appeared to be a pretty okay guy. He and I swapped ideas for a little while. He even invited me to come to a planet so we could tear into each other. However, I'm out here to make a profit, not to put notches in my belt.

After another break and a bit more hunting, I came across Contestant #2:

Look at that beautiful new Retriever. Mining barges are definitely the fat, juicy plums of piracy. Expensive ship, expensive modules and it's made of beer cans. This is going to be good.

Once again, I lock him down, open up a private convo and state my demands. Once again ... no response. Does EVERYBODY go retarded when they turn their mining lasers on? Oh well, time to shoot some beer cans.

It as then that I realized that something was wrong. My rockets weren't ... rocketing. They were just hanging in space, not moving from the place they were fired. The only weapon that was doing any damage was my blaster. Serves me right for buying discount rockets from that shifty Intaki gun runner.

Fortunately, my blaster was enough, and Rrenton's flying golden scrap pile became a non-flying scrap pile. Better yet, I finally had my first piece of pirate treasure.

I wasn't even bothered by the fact that the other strip miner and 2 named cargo expanders were destroyed. I was doubly amused when Rrenton finally decided to respond to my convo request.

"What goes around comes around," he warned me darkly
"Hey, want to buy a slightly used Strip Miner?"

He didn't.

Ending Balance: 1,952,201,000
Victims: 2
Security Status: 2.9

Billionaire Buccaneer: Day 0

2006-07-30T03:53:00.000Z

My preparations were fairly simple and boring. I had to do the following:

1. Find a place to set up shop.
2. Move all my assorted gear out to my new home.
3. Set a clone and move jump clones to my new HQ.
4. Leave Eve University for good. (Technically, for evil.)
5. Purchase bookmarks and the equipment necessary to engage in a life of piracy.

Day 0 went pretty slowly. Originally, moving to the Derelik region sounded good. I liked the idea of sticking it to those slaves down in Ammatar space, and my fiance (a Minmatar, whom I refer to as my lovely assistant) liked the idea of killing slavers and those who give them aid and comfort. But things seemed a bit too quiet there for my tastes, so I skipped over to the Placid region and checked things out there. Suffice it to say, I liked what I saw: Lots of systems 0.4 and below, in between noobspace and 0.0 ... Yes, this will do nicely.

After repeated attempts, I discovered that most freighter pilots come in two varieties: Greedy as a loan shark with a gambling problem, or as untrustworthy as a car salesman who owns the loan shark money. But hey, I thought. I'm rich. So I figured, if I'm going to pay a lot, I may as well pay a lot to someone I know won't take all of my ships, sell them, and spend the money on Mindflood, lapdances from my mother and protein delicacies. And that's what I did. No, not the lapdance thing.

Then, I just had to purchase and install bookmarks. I won't even go into this. Suffice it to say that when I had finally finished copying over a thousand bookmarks, leaving the station for the first time was as pleasurable as taking a dump while getting a massage from a puppy AND smoking the first cigarette of the day. I really wanted to go looking for trouble, but I was tired and I needed to take a dump. So on that note, I ended.

Starting Balance: 2,000,000,000 ISK
Ending Balance: 1,949,500,000 ISK
Kills: 0
Security Status: 3.7

Billionaire Buccaneer: The Idea

2006-07-29T05:46:00.000Z

When I started playing Eve, I immediately realized that it was a game of patience. You couldn't just show up and start kicking ass out of the gate. You had to WAIT. You had to PREPARE. And I was willing to do just that. And I did just that. After a bit of foundering around, I joined the prestigious Eve University to learn the ins and outs of pod piloting.

The best part about Eve University (aside from the excellent classes available) was 0.0 access. Of course, Eve University was allied with The Big Blue, which was already in the habit of providing 0.0 access to just about everyone, but being a student of E-UNI gave you access to a members-only system as well.

So, in between classes (which don't really take up a lot of my time), I would basically be a big giant carebear. I mined crokite until I earned my first Raven class battleship, and then I used that to rat and rat and rat. And rat. AND RAT. I also mined occasionally and even dabbled in manufacturing a bit. Now, it's not like I NEVER saw combat, but it was always something that cost money, even if I was on the winning side.

Anyway, after months of hardcore carebearage, I found that I had not one, but two billion ISK in the bank. Of course, most of that money came from lucky spawns here and there, but for someone with no interest in the T2 market or faction modules, it sure looked like a fortune.

But what to do? I perused the forums for ideas. I could metaphorically roll around naked in piles of ISK like a perverted Scrooge McDuck! Or I could build a POS and call it "Devilish Ledoux's House of Myriad Sweaty Distractions". I could corner the market on Exotic Dancers (which would tie in nicely with the POS idea). I could hire a herald to follow me around, singing my praises in local.

Looking at my bank account, two things crossed my mind. The first was that I didn't need to keep ratting anymore. The second was that ... I wanted to go kill someone.

Sure, I could afford to go crazy with the PvP. I could throw ships away like candy ... but I didn't want to just piss all my money away. No. I wanted to make money doing the only thing I have never been able to make money doing: Blowing up other people's ships. That's right. I wanted to be a pirate.

So I decided to see how long it would take me to make pirating profitable. I'd start with exactly 2 billion ISK. I would, of course, need to spend some money up front to establish myself as a pirate. Then, once the initial investment is made, I would track my daily progress. I would continue doing so until my bank balance returned to 2 billion ISK.

Rules:
#1 The only money I can make will be from piracy. Ransoms, bounties, and the sale of plunder are the only allowable forms of income. Any money recieved from other source will be immediately transferred to my lovely assistant (my fiance, who also plays Eve).

#2 No podkilling, unless it's in the course of a ransom attempt. I will not podkill anyone unless they refuse to pay a ransom. I'm doing this for the money, not just to piss in people's Cheerios.

#3 While temporarily ganging up with other pirates will be allowed, I will not join any corporations (pirate or otherwise) until my goal has been reached, or until it becomes obvious that I cannot achieve the goal.

#4 No pirating my former classmates in Eve University. Even though it would be easy ;)

So here I go. If you're really really bored, feel free to follow me on my piratey adventures.

And no, you can't have a loan.