The Battle at Abudban II

Nofearion scanned the archives of matters in the ether of the communications net as he often did while for waiting departure from a major trade hub. This one had the most traffic in New Eden. Jita 4-4 always had lots of everything and was the major crossroads of all trade. He looking for tidbits of information or trends that may, or may not, tip him in the direction of Isk. Hints of conflict in any outlying area where the price of ammo or weapons my increase enough to prove profitable.

A little DED report caught his attention. An old report from long ago back when Sansha first started testing his technology that would open a man made wormhole into a solar system with the purpose of enslaving populaces living on planets below. How times have changed Nofearion thought. Admittedly in the time since this report Sansha incursions were becoming profitable to the point of being welcomed by the capsuleer community. Gazing over the report his suspicion was being confirmed that the incursions were becoming perhaps a little too profitable.

A result of specialized defense tactics, and ships used by capsuleer fleets in current defense fleets, general industry and production was down and the price of ore was increasing. Not due to an increase in demand, but to the decrease in ore production. Simply miners were no longer mining. They had found more profit in shooting at Sansha ships and reaping the bounties offered by Concord.

Having just left a tavern on the station where some pilots who used to trade the raw unrefined ore to him had switched from the dull drudgery of sitting in a roid belt to fighting the now predicable battle with Sansha forces. The talk was that as always Sansha had become predictable.

Predictable to the point where the incursions where be drawn out to increase the overall bounty take. As immortals they seemed to forget the cost in human lives. While the pilots were getting fat with Isk, Sansha was able to harvest more slaves as incursions that initially were repelled in hours where now lasting days sometimes even weeks.

The capsuleer community had new found wealth easily obtained and Sansha ships seeming as endless as Concords wallet. Most were not mindful that the recent drops in production across the board had a cost. The cost was increased prices associated with dropping availability or ships and the equipment that kept them running. With a half formed thought the holoscreen switched from the Sansha  DED report to ORE financials of the past month showing telltales of economic slowdown. After confirming his thoughts he switched back to the DED report. Nofearion had to admit that he and his Corporation were profiting from his foresight of the market trends. However this report was chilling. Was this a foretelling of a bigger strategy? A trap set by Sansha, one so subtle and complex as to be missed by intelligence communities in all four empires?

Nofearion had risen to where he was because he had the knack to see the whole picture and read the cause and effects of events and trends. Some of the Vherkior council members had even accused him of being more mystic than drifter with predictions that gave the impression he could see the future. In truth, a careful study of events and market trends combined with historical records that allowed him to make uncanny accurate predictions.

The report itself was filled as part of DED investigations into the effectiveness of involving Capsuleers in the defense of secure space. The DED as a division of Concord were developing strategies to best encourage Capsuleers to defend empire space. This report was a stark reminder that the current incursions may be a little too easy, a little too rewarding. What was Sansha's end game?

DED report 02.568gd. 002 xx

The Battle at Abudban II

Sansha incursion forces into Abudban system, Ortner Constellation Heimatar region

Pilot interview

Saffear Stormrage "Fear Singer"

Squad leader Minmatar Defense Union

Was a Mad house, I am telling you, a mad house.

No organization, Hell, I imagine that is what the Sansha was hoping for, a free for all. Thousands of them, Silent not a word except for the slave. Planet side must have been worse, whole communities ripped up, captured and enslaved by those inhuman demons.

The Amarrians enslaved my people long ago. We always maintained our individual identities. Keeping hope alive eventually broke free of their chains.

The Sansha, rotten bastards, all they do not simply imprison you, they take your soul and everything that makes you human. They take everyone Minmatar, Amarr, Gallente, Caldari. All are given the same reprogramming treatment.

The battle? Yes the battle. My nerves are still shot and that is no small matter.

Friendlies, or at least as friendly as capsuleer privateers can be, locked my ship up twice by accident. Some others Pilots were not as lucky as I, they lost their ships to friendly fire.

Fuck! It was hair raising, Silonneri Balginia was the there, her voice ringing on the comms rallying all the clans, then that Amarrian bastard showed up. Dasirel! Things did not get much better after that. For as many as we destroyed we were taking major losses, We, The Capsuleers! Can you imagine losing our advanced ships to inferior antiquated technology! Their numbers were huge, our organization, was very poor but what can you expect out of a bunch of privateers. Whoever dreamed to organize a completely volunteer capsuleer fleet had to be insane!

At one point Minmatar and Amarrians started shooting at each other forgetting of the menace stealing our life blood from the planet below. Then the slave showed up in her battleship. A ship aptly named the nightmare; sure I had plenty of them fall below the fire of my guns. This one was different. She was a capsuleer herself. Now I understood the gravity of the situation, these demon machines were not just chemical clockworks. Half human half machine and controlled by one of us, one of the immortals! I was not the only one to reach this epiphany. Soon all forgot about what now seemed trifling differences, all forgot about rivalries, all focused fire on that one ship, that one threat to our existence! Of life as we know it. If the Sansha can take one of us! One of us! A captive, enslaved, take away our immortality and make it their own.

A Living hell awaits us, they will return, when they do, Capsuleers will be leading them.

Crisis of Faith

Satie waved her hand in front of a spot on the wall and the door for compartment holding cleaning supplies wisped shut. Satie walked across the room catching a glimpse of herself in a small mirror sitting on a table. Even after all these years she still felt naked in the skimpy and thin garments her master made her wear. Should count yourself lucky, her conscience reminded her. A different time and in a different place slaves would be given only filthy rags of rough woven cloth that chapped in tight spots leaving sores in the skin that would never heal.

Satie reached her destination in the living quarters and set about her task of cleaning and polishing little figurines lining several small shelves built into the wall. “Lucky indeed” she though aloud. Lucky her master was a spaceship captain, and as such was hardly ever home. Lucky she was not alone. Three other women shared her fate with her. All four were of the same race and came from similar backgrounds. Having others to lament the past and to find comfort with made life as a slave slightly more bearable. There could have been worse fates. Keeping her faith was the key to survival. She as well as the others knew that if they took their own life they would not find peace on the other side.

Cleaning a particular grotesque figure of two female bodies twisted in a lovers embrace she felt bile rise to the back of her throat. To be surrounded by such depravity. At least she thought, even with all the indignities her master put upon her, she was not forced to commit any vile sins of the flesh. She knew of other slaves that toiled in hot fields under a brutal sun. Others that worked endless shifts of manual labor never saw the light of day. All under scrutiny of Amarrian guards and threat of a whip if they were lucky, worse if they were not. Still it would seem that her master went out of the way to find ways to make her uncomfortable even in the posh surroundings she found herself.

Satie figured the thin gold collar around her throat. Sometimes the means of keeping slaves captive and obedient may not be as harsh, but could be as painful. She looked up and could see the little camera in the corner of the room, camera’s everywhere. Her mind spoke again “At least this master does not believe in Vitoc”. She could not suppress a shudder at the thought of being dependent on a drug where even mild withdrawals resulted in cramps and convulsions and after a small amount of time resulted in death. Even if should could slip the collar and leave the suite of compartments where would she go? She was locked on a space station situated above a planet in a constellation across the known universe from her home.

Even if she could find passage to the planet below it was populated by those who despised her race and would likely violate her flesh and torture her before giving her death. Her pale skin and genteel features a tattle tale of her race would give her away. She could not hope to blend in with the larger darker skinned inhabitants. “A spaceship then” the little voice in her head sounded boldly. Even then how many star systems from her home was she? Satie could not fathom.

“A crisis of faith then?” Her mind pounded, her heart skipped a beat. Deep down Satie knew she likely deserved the life she now led. How many times did she commit atrocities in the name of her faith? Was it her reliance on faith that fate now found her a slave? A woman, who once commanded respect, had large possessions of land and wealth, a holder over a large population of Matari flesh! On whose backs she maintained her family’s fortunes. On whose flesh she forced her every whim. Her faith gave her the right to do with them as she pleased. She paused and regret stabbed her in the abdomen like a knife. Satie thought and how many a cold nights did she submit to her own depravity.

Satie slumped, the battle inside was starting to make her shake on the outside. Oh that fateful day! She found herself remembering how giddy she was. It was her first trip aboard a starship. Bound for the Amarr home worlds, a glorious trip where she hoped to finally meet the empress. Why she continually asked herself was she not allowed to die in the fiery death of that ship. Why was it she was saved only then made a slave by that capsuleer Vherokior bitch! An image of the tall female savage's tattooed face filled her mind as she remembered her mocking voice as she placed the pain collar around her neck. How dare that Minmatar slut call her a slave! She was of noble birth! A HOLDER! Why did no one try to come to her rescue! A sigh escaped her lips as she trembled both in anger and anguish.

She knew the answer. As always in the society where she was once such a central figure, an Amarr holder with great power and influence. Of course there were others who would not miss her, others who would step in with a plea for faith on their lips as they usurped her lands and wealth, and her position in society. Others who could not wait for the bodies of their brethren to cool before going about dividing what remained. Satie knew all too well what was happing in her absence. Was it not the sudden disappearance of her Aunt that led to her taking her position as holder of the family’s possessions and political seat?

The door to the compartment opened and a slender young woman entered the room. Satie looked up and watcher her approach. She was as beautiful as any Amarr goddess could be and appeared to float across the floor in a graceful manner. The long sheer panels of her outfit slipped around her body in an intentionally erotic fashion that made Satie blush for her. The Woman’s name was Amanda. Her outfit matched Satie’s. Amanda drifted over to Satie putting an arm around her. “Another crisis” Amanda’s voice was quite and silky smooth but still held power and authority common among holders. Satie could only shake her head as she felt shame for showing weakness in front of someone else. She felt the woman’s arm close around her shoulders. “We must maintain our faith”. Satie collapsed in the woman’s embrace as she broke down into tears.