The Ministry of Truth

[Canaith_Lydian]

High-Sec War

After 4 days of multiple Depot Farm Runs, Meara was very excited. She had always been content to be a scout, sitting cloaked in areas to provide intelligence to Canaith or an Amarr fleet. Now, though, as she stopped to consider the last few days, she had to admit that it felt good to be fighting alongside Canaith. He had always made her feel important, but something about the sorties they had been flying made her feel like a real part of the Faction War.

As she looked at her digital wallet, she was stunned to see more than 2 million 24th Imperial Militia Loyalty Points in her account, all from destroying supply depots. Though she had often “pitched in” regarding the financial health of the enterprise that Canaith and her ran, this time her contribution was substantial. She felt proud and humbled at the same time.

Canaith was going to spend a good part of the day flying with Militia fleets in Kourmonen and Auga, two systems in which neither the Amarr nor the Minmatar could really get a foothold. Meara’s assignment was to run several trade runs between Huola and Amarr to convert some of her LP into real currency.

Flying her covert ops frigate to Amarr, she started catching up on news and announcements from EDICT, her alliance, and noticed a lot of comms chatter about a Concord sanctioned war. There were a lot of references to alliances she did not recognize, but through a series of diplomatic legalities it looked like EDICT was headed towards a war in High Security space.

Meara was trying to make sense of it all when she jumped into the Sarum Prime system on her way to Amarr. As she jumped into the system, she saw that the gate was surrounded by what her overview called War Targets. Meara was accustomed to seeing the Minmatar Militia defined as war targets, but the ships surrounding the jump gate were not from the Minmatar Militia. They were from an alliance called S R S.

Meara smiled at the thought of a gate camp and began her warp to the Amarr jump gate, engaging her cloaking device as soon as her ship began to align to the gate. Covert Ops was Meara’s specialty, and she rarely had a reason for concern about issues at a jump gate, particularly in high security space. Once her ship safely entered warp, she looked up the public information about S R S. They declared themselves to be a Hi-Sec Mercenary Corporation, but her understanding was that the only reason this war had been declared was because S R S wanted a war.

"Canaith would have a lot to say about these ghosts,” Meara thought.

Canaith held a view that the first death of a Capsuleer, the event that resulted in the pilot’s first Clone, was more damaging to the downloaded consciousness than the commonly held view. Canaith and Meara both believed that the lack of the fear of death separated Capsuleers from non-Capsuleers so significantly that the one group could no longer understand the other. Canaith referred to non-Capsuleers as the living and Capsuleers as the dead because he believed that Capsuleers were more like ghosts than people, at least philosophically speaking. To Canaith, many Capsuleers lost the ability to care much about anything of New Eden. To those Capsuleers, all that was left to their existence was the fight. S R S was one of many organizations that catered to those kinds of Capsuleers. To Canaith, those pilots had become monsters.

Meara tapped a message into Alliance comms, warning the Alliance that S R S was camping the Amarr gate in Sarum Prime. It was disappointing that the Alliance’s connection to the Amarr trade hub was no longer safe, particularly after they had put so much effort into conquering Huola just to make it so.

The rest of her short trip was uneventful, and Meara was soon docked at the Emperor Family Station in Amarr, Domain’s trade hub. She made a few purchases of goods she intended to upgrade using her LP, then exited her Capsule to spend some time among crowds of people. She was going to do her best to continue to perceive the living.

[Canaith_Lydian]

Opportunity Knocks

“Execute Scenario 2C,” said a computerized voice into his earpiece. He stood next to a luggage store in a broad, crowded area in Concourse C and placed his hand on a public trash receptacle.

He loaded a memory from an illegal cybernetic implant under the filename of ‘case-4123-scenario-2c’. A few seconds later, he knew the following:

1. His name was Inatso Nevanfest
2. He was a customs inspector assigned to a routine pre-flight inspection of a Prorator called Silent Running owned by a pilot named Meara Natinde.
3. He was to execute a program via a hard-wired interface to the Covert Ops Cloak onboard the ship.

Inatso walked into a small office that his new memory knew how to find and ran his ID check. The system admitted him without incident. He changed into clothes he found in a locker his new memory knew how to find, then boarded a small skiff that he found right where he knew he would. After inputting a hanger and berth id that he knew exactly, he stood silent for the handful of minutes it took to land on the Covert Ops Hauler named Silent Running. He was approached by a busy-looking crewmember carrying a data pad and talking on comms. All Inatso could hear was yes, we will be able to make that load fit as soon as Captain Natinde boards.

Inatsu did not say anything. He just showed the crew member an official inspection order and sent an authorization to the request that appeared in his virtual display.

“Please hurry,” the crew member said. “Captain Natinde is expected soon.”

Inatso gave a stern look back at the crew member because his new memory said that was what the crew member deserved. In response, the crew member stood aside and waved Inatso in, mumbling “whatever” as Inatso walked past him.

After several minutes of visually inspecting cargo holds, running diagnostics, and filling out overly complicated forms, Inatso became just another person on board the ship. Once Inatso felt that his presence had become normal enough, he loaded the ship’s configuration into what most people called the Fitting Screen. He looked quickly and found the Covert Ops Cloaking Device, making note of its physical location in the highly modular ship. He immediately closed the configuration screen and began hustling towards the upper decks of the ship. The Covert Ops cloak was installed in what the map called High-Level Slot Area 1.

Security on the ship was tight, but his entrance to the High-Level Slot 1 Maintenance Bay was authorized by his digital ID, as he knew it would be. He walked to a computer interface and hardwired himself to it via a cable that connected directly to his own implants. Then he ran the program called AR29138-AEW.

Having finished what he came here to do, Inatso completed the inspection form as he walked through the ship back to his skiff. Minutes later, he was back in the small office where he changed back into his own clothes, replacing everything as he had found it in the storage locker.

Once he exited the office, he walked back to the luggage store in Concourse C where he had been before and placed his hand back on the public trash receptacle. He ran a program called ‘mission-complete,’ after which he remembered nothing that had happened since loading the scenario file.

[Canaith_Lydian]

Sabotage

Meara was “all podded up” again, having spent quite a few hours just watching people in the busy areas of the Emperor Family Station. She attached her Capsule to her Prorator, Silent Running, and started preparations for her supply run to Huola. This ship, along with its crew, had served Canaith and Meara for years. They had used this ship to run loot between Null Sec and High Sec, to carry salvaged loot from countless missions against the enemies of Amarr, and more recently to run supplies from Amarr to the Bleak Lands. Nothing felt more routine to Meara than hauling with this ship.

Before Meara launched, she stopped to consider that they were in a high-security war. The advice posted in Alliance comms was to avoid travelling between Amarr and the war zone, but she was here and wanted to get back to Canaith and their important work there.

“You do this kind of thing all the time, Meara.” she said to herself. “It’s just another gate camp.”

So, mind made up, she made a mental plan of how to avoid any potential attacks from ships near the station she was about to leave, and how she would travel through the gate camp she was likely to find in Sarum Prime. She was confident that she could handle anything thrown at her, because Silent Running, though a hauler, was still a covert ops ship.

She loaded the ship’s cargo holds with capacitor booster charges and drones that she intended to upgrade at the 24th Imperial station in Huola in exchange for Loyalty Points. Then she initiated the undocking sequence. As soon as the ship was in space, Meara triggered a warp to a safe spot several hundred kilometers off the station. This was Meara’s personal “insta-warp bookmark” that required no alignment time to use on undock. Using this meant that would-be attackers waiting outside the station would not be able to target her ship. As Silent Running warped, she engaged the ship’s cloaking device, making her ship invisible to ship sensors.

“Now for the tricky part,” she thought as she initiated warp to the Sarum Prime jump gate. She triggered the warp, remaining cloaked right up until she approached the jump gate, and then jumped into Sarum Prime. As she expected, she found her ship surrounded by several S R S ships.

She waited a few seconds for her cloaking device to recharge, then began the sequence she had executed hundreds of times before. She initiated the automated sequence to align and warp her ship, and then engaged the cloaking device. Unlike hundreds of times before this, the cloaking device did not engage. Instead, she saw a brief notification on her digital display that, due to her spamming of several commands, she did not get a chance to read.

Meara heard some chatter on her ship comms:

“We are not cloaked!”
“We have been targeted!”
“We are taking fire!”

“Hundreds of times,” Meara thought as she scrambled to figure out something that she could do. This crew had never been targeted before.

Visual and audible alarms were being emitted in rapid succession. First the shield alarm, followed by the armor alarm, followed by the hull alarm. Then, in a few short seconds, she heard the familiar ping of an insurance notification as Silent Running was destroyed.

Meara began to spam the key on her virtual display that would initiate the warp of her ejected Capsule to a station, but before the Capsule could align, an S R S ship that was specifically modified to lock targets quickly locked her Capsule and brought her down.

The next conscious thought she had was in a new clone at the 24th Imperial Crusade station in Huola.

---

“Sir, Natinde’s hauler is in ashes,” a voice said into Sir’s ear as he sat in his study.

He was in a conference call with a handful of important looking people, but Sir executed a program that would provide a convincing digital and audio response if anyone asked him a question. He chuckled at the possibility that most of the people on the call were doing the same thing.

“Survivors?” he replied to the communication.

The voice said “Taken care of. No traces left.”

“And?”

“The mess is being cleaned up.”

Sir closed the connection and read the transcript of the call he had been missing. He was disappointed to see that there was nothing about which he could yell.

[Canaith_Lydian]

Cleaning Up the Mess

There were somewhere around one hundred thousand ship losses every day in New Eden, not counting the losses of non-Capsuleer heretics and mercenaries. These lost ships were crewed with engineers, quartermasters, loadmasters, and a variety of maintenance personnel, many of whom did not survive their ship’s destruction. Those who perished with their ships had insurance beneficiaries and families that were notified of their demise through an automated system that sent automated notifications that were sometimes referred to as “Loss Mails.”

The process for deciding that a crew member was indeed a “loss” was not simple. Crew manifests had to be reconciled with reports of successful escapes, the discovery of physical evidence, and, finally, the determination of various government boards. The process, though tedious, had been mostly automated through the years. Otherwise, the administrative cost would consume too much tax revenue.

Central to the system were the logs of crew manifests submitted prior to a ship’s launch from a station. These records had long since been considered the most accurate way to resolve any disputes regarding who was on board. These logs were created by the recording of a snapshot of crewmembers who were logged into a ship’s local comms channel when the ship initiated its launch sequence. The reliability of the data was paramount to the operation of the systems that settled the various insurance claims of the multitudes of people who perished with their ship.

It was considered very rude to even suggest that the system was not foolproof. It would create a variety of problems for the dozens of bureaucracies whose livelihoods depended on the system they so dutifully served. Therefore, everyone believed in the accuracy of the system. A good Imperial Face required it to be so.

Despite this universal proclamation of reliability, a skilled pilot in a properly configured Astero frigate defied common sense and hacked one of the data nodes that kept the recorded snapshots of crew logs; found the encoded file for the Prorator, Silent Running, that had been taken as it left the Emperor Family station; and ran an expensive and illegal program that added the names Ghuden Nicevius and Hotus Rokjoo to the snapshot. One hour and seventeen minutes later, the beneficiary of Ghuden Nicevius received the following insurance notification:

SECURE COMMERCE COMMISSION

RefID: 1018195625580 Your friendly insurance company has transferred 6,323.20 ISK into your account for the recent death of Guiden Nicevius. This payout is the default payout for an uninsured crewmember. If you are interested in better insurance in the future then please speak to an Insurance Service for further details.

Once the mail was sent, a watch notification was sent to an anonymous recipient. Seconds later, Sir received a message on a rarely used channel that read “The mess has been successfully cleaned.”

Sir sighed a sigh of relief, finding himself surprised at how much tension was released by the hearing of the news.

[Canaith_Lydian]

Manticore Down

After the loss of Silent Running, Canaith and Meara decided that there would be no supply runs or LP conversion until the war with S R S was over. Canaith was not privy to any diplomatic information regarding the war, so he decided not to give it any thought. The war would be over when it was over. He had a purpose to fulfill until then.

For the next few days, Canaith and Meara ran three or four sorties through the war zone each day. Between sorties, Canaith would fly with Red Sky Morning or EDICT standing fleets while Meara scouted for them. The days were crammed full of depot farming, fighting with fleets, and kills.

Despite the improved advantage reports across most of the war zone, the Kourmonen and Auga systems sustained a stalemate in the advantage war. Of all the systems in the war zone, Auga seemed to be the system that the Minmatar fought the hardest to keep and Kourmonen remained the system they most wanted to take. Canaith would not allow himself to be discouraged. He and Meara would continue to push advantage and Canaith would trust the leadership of the various Amarr alliances to devise strategies to win the war.

On the eighth day following the loss of Silent Running, Canaith and Meara were making a depot run in the Dal system only one jump away from Auga. While Meara and Canaith had multiple torpedo volleys in flight with the depot having lost half its armor, a Proteus uncloaked about 35 kilometers away from the Spirit of Denial, Canaith’s Manticore. The Proteus was a Gallente-designed craft of the Strategic Cruiser class, expensive and rarely seen in the Amarr-Minmatar war zone.

Instead of immediately cloaking his ship, Canaith sent a message to Meara telling her to do so, and that delay had been enough for the Proteus to get a target lock on Canaith’s Manticore. This meant that it was too late for Canaith’s ship to cloak. Canaith cursed himself for his foolishness.

Quickly selecting a warp point for his ship, he initiated a warp, but to Canaith’s surprise, the enemy ship disrupted his warp engines from 36 kilometers away, a much greater distance than Canaith thought possible. The Spirit of Denial shook as rounds from the Proteus’ 250mm railguns devastated its shields. Canaith engaged the ship’s microwarp drive to attempt to pull out of the enemy’s disruptor range, but it was too late. The Manticore was an excellent ship, but it was brittle. Within seconds, it was ripped in half by a second and third barrage from the Proteus.

Canaith kept his head and selected a navigation point for his Capsule, immediately initiating the warp sequence. Canaith’s Capsule catapulted through the remains of the Manticore and warped away. “At least Meara’s ship escaped,” he thought, pushing back the disappointment of his own loss.

While Meara finished the systems that remained of their last Depot Run, Canaith travelled back to Kormonen in his Capsule. He immediately sent a mail message to Moonbeam, his trader in Jita, requesting for her to buy 5 more Depot Killer Manticore and to have them delivered to Huola. She could have it hauled by PushX, a hauling company that would not be involved in the alliance’s high sec war with S R S. Her response came quickly, and she told him that he would have the ships in 3 days. That was three days that they would be one ship short for their Depot Runs.

Seconds after Meara docked in the same station, a trade notification window opened on Canaith’s display. Meara was attempting to transfer her Manticore to him.

“What is this?” he asked on private comms.

“You should take it,” she answered. “Your skills are better than mine and you are more efficient than me.”

Canaith almost accepted the trade, but then thought better of it. Meara had been doing well, and though her combat skills made her a bit less effective at killing targets, her scouting skills had made a difference in the location and tracking of them. Besides, it did not seem right for him to take her ship when it had been his mistake that cost the Spirit of Denial.

“You continue the Depot Runs,” he said. “I will run the occasional Rendezvous interception and fly with Militia fleets.”

Meara said nothing, but the trade offer was cancelled.

[Canaith_Lydian]

Flying Solo

Canaith undocked in his Imperial Slicer at the same time Meara undocked in Memory Erased, her stealth bomber, and felt a bit of loneliness as their ships went in different directions. After so many days of flying as a team, the last two and a half days had felt oddly empty. As Meara ran her many Depot Runs, Canaith had kept himself busy by joining the standing Militia fleets. He had been so busy with the Advantage War that he had felt out of touch with the Militia, and the last few days had given him a chance to get reconnected.

Unlike the Amarr Navy, the Militia was a loosely organized group of pilots who either flew under the banner of the 24th Imperial Crusade or with Capsuleer Alliances that had attached themselves to the 24th. Though individuals held rank within the 24th, that rank was mostly ceremonial, a part of each pilot’s Imperial Face. Most Fleet Commanders (FC) started fleets on their own initiative, regardless of rank, and pilots were drawn to an FC based on his reputation. Every FC in the war zone had his own style, his own objectives, and if successful, his own following. For that reason, a militia pilot often “shopped around” for FC’s, which was the inevitable result of the independent nature of the Amarr Militia.

Canaith’s personal priority for an FC he could follow was that the FC fought for a cause and supported operational objectives. Though he would fly with fleets who only lived to fight, he would do so only if those fights were helping the Amarr Militia, and only then for a limited time. Canaith did not want to become a malevolent spirit to New Eden. He wanted to help it, not hurt it.

While Canaith was fighting, Meara continued to run Depot Runs, and she did so quite successfully. At first, Canaith monitored her progress and asked for updates throughout the day, but Meara grew distant after a time, so Canaith let her run her missions on her own.

“She is independent now,” Canaith thought, “and does not need me looking over her shoulder.”

In the moments in which Canaith was not busy, he found himself wondering when Meara would proclaim her independence from him. For almost as long as Canaith had been a Capsuleer, Meara had been right there with him. Until recently, her role had been one of logistical support, supply, and scouting. It would not surprise Canaith if this bit of independence had not awakened her desire to stand on her own. All she had ever lacked was confidence.

Though Canaith was already feeling a deep loneliness at the very thought of this, he decided that it would be selfish to do anything to influence her decision. Whatever Meara wanted was what Canaith wanted for her… at least most of the time. In those moments when he found himself struggling to walk so selfless a path, he busied himself with fighting the war.

The Minmatar presence in Auga was constant and fierce. Fleets run by Red Sky Morning (RSM) pushed hard all day, but their advances were pushed back while RSM rested. Pilots assigned to fly while RSM slept were badly outnumbered. Canaith was afraid that if something did not change, pilots in the Amarr Militia might grow weary of the fight. As for the Minmatar, they never seemed to tire at all.

[Canaith_Lydian]

Winding Down

When the new Manticores arrived, Meara and Canaith resumed their Depot Runs in earnest. For 10 straight days they became an ever-vigilant arm of the Ministry of Truth, running throughout every star system in the Bleak Lands and Heimatar region.

As the days continued, a handful of Minmatar Militia pilots became their consistent hunters, trying all manner of tactics to stop their bombers from completing their mission. They had many encounters with Trevor Dalech, who attempted to use a covert ops Astero to ambush them. They encountered Rethyl in a Curse, Stilleto, or Tornado, who managed to catch Canaith once. They encountered Bixtarqii in a Pilgrim and again in a Lachesis. Meara was caught and killed by one lucky pilot named Chickers in a Navy Slicer.

The encounters with these pilots made their runs more exciting and effective. Gone was their complacency, and they both felt the thrill of knowing that their efforts were making a real difference in the war. Because of the war with S R S that still raged in High Security Space, all their attention was on their mission. It was exhilarating to have such a focused dedication to one purpose, and equally exciting to be running these missions together.

Then two things happened. First, the number of targets across the war zone dramatically decreased. Other Amarr Militia pilots had learned how to farm Minmatar Supply Depots, so the concentrated efforts of Canaith and Meara were not as necessary. Second, the war with S R S was scheduled to end.

Canaith realized that their daily was about to change, but how? Could he expect Meara to go back to being their supply runner and scout? Would she be content fulfilling what many pilots would see as a support role anymore?

Canaith was pondering this as the two of them returned from a disappointing Depo Run. It was obvious that it was time for a mission change. As if reading his mind, he received a message from Meara’s communications channel.

“Is it okay if we talk?” she said, in a hard to read emotional wrapper. “I have something I would like to say to you.”

“Certainly, Meara,” he sent back. This had to be the conversation he had been anticipating for quite some time. “What do you want to say?” He tried to wrap the message with politeness and little else, but was afraid his communications interface had interfered.

“No,” she replied, with what was that… embarrassment? “I would like to talk to you in person. May we meet in the observation lounge of your hanger?”

“Oh…” he replied. “Can I meet you in an hour?”

“It would please me if you could,” was her answer, wrapped in gratitude.

[Canaith_Lydian]

Meeting Face-to-Face

Meara slowly exited the lift that had carried her from her personal hanger to Canaith’s. There were very few people to be seen anywhere in the X-Sense Chemical Refinery. The constant war in the system had reduced commerce to almost nothing, and the presence of pilots of both militias in the same station made the locals nervous. Most everyone kept to themselves. She hoped the lack of a crowd would make what she had to do easier.

She walked slowly down a corridor, watching her foot fall with every step. Stopping once, she almost turned back, but then steeled herself. “I have to do this!” she insisted. With a reinforced resolve, she quickened her pace.

When she finally came into an open area that most pilots called the Observation Lounge, she looked around the room and saw Canaith standing against a long, arching window. It reminded her of the last time they had met in person. He had been wearing that silly robe then. Today he was dressed casually, out of uniform, as one would dress among close friends. Meara looked down at her own uniform and felt just a tinge of regret at having worn it.

Canaith was staring down at the Spirit of Denial, his Manticore, through thick, reinforced windows, with both of his hands supporting his weight against a long railing. Meara walked up beside him with her arms crossed. Her own Manticore could be seen some distance away.

“Strange,” she said as they gazed at their ships. “They do not look as ugly to me now as they did once.”

“Indeed,” Canaith said in his quiet voice, continuing to look out the window.

They stood in silence for several seconds until the silence grew awkward.

“You know,” Meara started, looking intently out the window, “I am not just a Salvager, a Hauler, and a Scout.” Her words had the sound of conviction in them.

“Indeed,” Canaith answered, continuing to gaze at his ship.

Meara gently moved closer and put her own hands on the railing, her right hand barely touching Canaith’s left. She turned her head to look directly at Canaith, whose eyes were drawn to hers as if summoned by her gaze. His emotions were hard to read, tucked behind his Imperial Face.

Looking into his eyes, she said, “I am your Salvager, your Hauler, and your Scout, Canaith Lydian.”

Her eyes bore the expression of one who was searching for an answer to an unasked question. She looked hopeful and a bit afraid.

Canaith’s expression changed. It was as if he put a mask away, letting her see past his Imperial Face to the real person that was hidden beneath it. He smiled and said, “And is that enough, Meara Natinde?”

As tears began to fill her eyes, she said, “It has always been enough.”

She threw her arms around his waist and held on tightly, tears running down her cheeks.

“It will always be enough,” she said through the tears.

Canaith was uncomfortable at first. He had not touched another person in several years. Then he accepted what was happening and finally let his head rest on top of hers.

“That is good, my dearest Meara,” he said. “For I have quite forgotten how to fulfill a purpose without you.”

[Canaith_Lydian]

Prologue

In a long, majestic hallway in the administrative quarter of the Ministry of Internal Order Assembly Plant at Penirgman IX - Moon 3, a high-ranking member of the intelligence committee turned to enter a corridor full of loaner offices there. He touched his palm to a hand-sized plate by the doorway to one of the offices and the configuration of the office changed according to his stored preferences.

No sooner than he had taken his seat at a large ornate desk, his digital assistant chimed in his ear and said, “Sir, your daughter is calling.” The voice was a digital attempt at formality, which Sir thought was unnecessary, but most things within these halls were both formal and unnecessary, at least in Sir’s opinion.

First, he set the security filters to a custom setting that would temporarily bypass the many digital eyes and ears that would be recording his every move. Spies were everywhere, especially in this place. Then he told his digital assistant to put his daughter on the wall screen.

Who he saw was a young-looking, rather attractive young women with reddish hair.

“Krysta,” he said. “It is so good to hear from you.”

“And you, Father,” she said formally. Then not so formally, “I just wanted to call and see if you had seen your son’s numbers lately.”

“I suppose you are going to tell me that he is doing well,” he grumbled.

“His financials have never been better. My girl in Jita informs me that the profits just keep coming.”

“I suppose you think that means I should complain of him less,” he joked. “And what of the rumors you were concerned about several weeks ago,” he continued. “Who was it that was circulating them?”

“That horrid Ghuden Nicevius, you mean? Well, the rumors have stopped. In fact, the talk about Canaith these days is about the work he has been doing to support the Amarr Militia.”

“The Militia,” Sir said with disdain. “Does not seem like a step up to me.”

“Regardless,” teased Krysta, “You do have to admit that he is doing well for himself, and even without your meddling.”

‘My meddling?” he posed, “And what of your meddling, Krysta Lydian?”

“What do you mean, Father?” she managed to look like a schoolgirl.

“I am referring to your sight-seeing trip to Huola, of course, and especially your side-trip to Roushzar.”

Krysta paled, but only briefly. Her Imperial Face was back again in just an instant. Sir had to admit that she was getting much better at remaining composed. “Good girl,” he thought.

“I did not even get to see him,” she said, convincingly feigning disappointment, “But it was thrilling to travel about in a Low Security System even so.”

“Yes,” he said, looking amused, “I am sure that it was. Next time you plan that kind of meddling, Krysta, do ask me for help. Fathers sometimes do know best.”

She bowed her head formally, acknowledging the real message he had just given her.

“Well, it was good speaking to you, Sirolan Lydian.”

The connection closed.

[Canaith_Lydian]

Acknowledgements

What I thought was going to be a very quick story about the humor in FW’s advantage system grew into something much larger. If you have managed to read it all, then I commend you for your mental stamina. I also want to thank you for hanging in there with me.

Feel free to comment here to let me know that you made it to the end. Or, if you’d rather, you may contact any of the following characters in-game. They would love to hear from you.

Canaith Lydian
Meara Natinde
Medley Moonbeam
Krysta Lydian

I want to thank Cyrelle Aurilen for the real in-game assignment to figure out the new Advantage mechanics, and to Task Force 641 for helping me to discover Faction Warfare in Eve Online.

[pamela_Jouhinen]

Wonderful, I have read every word! and Loved it all. Please send me a link to anything else that you write!

-pamela

[Canaith_Lydian]

Very kind of you, @pamela_Jouhinen.

[Canaith_Lydian]

The Salvation of Meara Natinde - Fiction Portal / Player Fiction - EVE Online Forums