Rush

Milo appears on screen. He looks pale, and has dark rings under his eyes. He is, however, smiling, and is putting together an implant on the workbench in front of him. He reaches out with one hand to configure the camera drone.

Busy and really rather profitable week really. I've spent most of my time pulling together various contracts, and a short amount of time ensuring further cooperation of future clients.
We're finally coming close to pulling together a proper contract system for ah- clients in Nadire. I've netted so many contracts in the past few days we're going to need it.

He pauses and squints at the implant on the worktop, before adjusting some internal wiring.

My little scheme for encouraging pilots into low security space is going well. The last roam netted a few decent kills before eventually going out in a ball of flame. Still regret I made the decision to stay. Still, we did far more damage than was inflicted upon us, and most importantly, everyone enjoyed it.

Milo stops again, this time setting some pins on the side of the implant. He checks his implant socket, tilts his head and slots the implant in, wincing slightly as he does so.

I might head down to the Skyhook for a celebratory drink or two tonight. Maybe someone will show up. I've reconfigured my implants to compensate for my lack of sleep lately, so I should be alright.

He leans over and turn the camera drone off.

Quiet

The feed clicks on. Milo can be seen at his desk sorting through boxes of holo-reels. Noticing the Camera Drone is on, he smoothly sweeps a few from the desk before the drone can focus on them. Grinning, he adjusts the drone until it's focused on him.

I've been sorting through all my old documents from my FNA Days. Seems they've been boxed up with my assets and have been following me from station to station. Waiting in the station warehouse each time. I guess I must've just been unlucky with the pending item messages or something, because I don't specifically remember anyone telling me about them.

He Sighs

I suppose I should be grateful that I finally have some peace and quiet. The ASRS thing turned out to be nothing at all. Guess mother is just really paranoid. Although-

He pauses, and then Pulls up a News Holo onto the feed. The Article, which covers the podding of a particularly prominent Academy Leader, displays on screen for around half a second before blinking out. A second article displays, this time an angel cartel Intelligence Report, listing a number of Theft charges against the victim. Milo is looking smug in the background.

He tore my dreams apart, so I help coordinate the destruction of his. Having nothing else to do certainly has it's advantages. It even frees up time to respond to Interesting target calls on patrol we'd not normally aim for. If we're not after anything specific, we can pick and choose the most profitable targets as we see fit.

Milo shuffles through his Holo reels again, looking thoughtful. He reaches behind the Camera Drone, and ends the feed.

Fragile

Milo can be seen sitting at his workbench in his apartment, hardware and empty mugs covering the surface like so many mushrooms. He looks unusually happy.

She's back.

He takes a sip of his coffee.

After god knows how many weeks planetside, Celia's finally come back. I'm not sure how I managed to stop myself doing nothing but mope for the past few weeks. Everything has seemed so- colourless in comparison to how I feel now.
It's amazing how fragile we are considering we can command entire ships, both emotionally and physically. Newt showed up in the Skyhook with a limp after getting involved with some ridiculous Matari sport, and how I felt when Celia expressed an Interest in it- What the Hell's wrong with me? Why do I feel so damn protective?

He sighs.

Change of subject. I managed to get myself a Taranis. It's a wonderful little ship, although it operates on the edge somewhat. So far I've had a chance to test it on a Hurricane and an Enyo. Both fights feeling more dangerous than usual, entering combat in such a thinly constructed ship. Moves damn fast though.

Another sigh. Milo glances over the messy worktop.

I suppose I should clear this mess up.

He reaches over to the camera drone, and the feed closes, the PRETA logo showing on screen for a fraction of a second before It blanks out

New Ishkur

Well it seems it's time for a new Ishkur again.
After a short roam through The Bleak Lands with little event, I now found myself with the rest of the PRETA Patrol in Sosala. The Fleet consisted of frigate-sized hulls, and we had picked up a number of interesting signatures on scan.
It all seems a little hazy now, but as I remember it we caught a Prophecy-Class Battlecruiser in the Ice Field. It disintegrated under the barrage of Laser and Autocannon Fire, my drones still ripping away at the Armor plates as the unfortunate pilot got his pod out of the fight.
Then it all went wrong.
Midway through the battle, an Onyx had appeared on the scene. Commander Yishal had given the order to get range, but not to engage, as we were nearly finished with the Prophecy, and at any rate, the onyx was firing on It as well.
There is a thud, and the sound of someone swearing quietly in Gallentean. The feed cuts off for a few seconds, and then flicks back online.
Several seconds after the Prophecy went down, I realised I was not gaining range on the Onyx. The cloud of water vapour and dust surrounding an Ice Asteroid had clogged my engines, and I was now moving at a fedo's pace. Seeing this, the Onyx promptly locked me in place with a warp scrambler. I managed to keep my ship together for quite a while by maneuvering manually in a wide arc around the Onyx, my ECM drones desperately trying to break his lock. Then, the rest of his fleet arrived and my Ishkur finally gave way under fire from four ships.
I slammed a hand against the side of my capsule in frustration, and went into warp instantly.
As I load modules for my new Ishkur into my hanger, I cannot help but feel a degree of respect for commander Yishal. Despite her thoughtless behavior towards Vincent, how irritated I was with her about it, and her general lack of Charisma, It seems I will have to acknowledge that she is an excellent fleet commander.
There is a long pause, a sigh, and the recording ends.

Ghost Festival

Things are looking up again.
Since My last log, I have found help and employment in an... unexpected area. I was offered a position by PRETA. PRETA or Ghost Festival are an experimental project being run by the Cartel to see whether capsuleers can be bought into service by the Cartel as more than mercenaries.
Once I had passed the security checks and shifted what assets I had to their base of operations in the Bleak Lands I retired to my newly furnished apartment on the Tzvi Station. I felt far too tired to mix or interact with my new peers.
Within days of joining I have accumulated a number of kills, and have flown alongside PRETA on several occasions. As I finish this entry I can feel myself relaxing for the first time in weeks.
I think I've found my calling.

Qeti

It's been an interesting few weeks since we've moved into the Qeti Constellation. We've had a fair number of fights, our production lines are running again, and we've met some... Interesting Pilots. All in all, it's been profitable. On a more personal note, I made the decision to put my Vexor, the Python, back into the hanger for a bit and see what kind of results I get from The Sabre, a Brutix class battlecruiser I bought about a week ago. I was hesitant to try it out, as it lacks the capacity to take sentry fire for any length of time. However, I managed to convince myself that I would be careful with it.

A few hours later, however, being careful was no longer an option. A small fleet of red flagged pilots had entered Raravath, and we were not going to let them do whatever they intended to do. These same pilots had attacked, destroyed and podded a lone drake of ours a few days ago. They had arrived en-masse, in a large number of frigate and cruiser sized vessels, and converged upon the drake at a station. The Drake pilot claims there were at least 20, but I feel she may have been exaggerating.
Four of these pilots were now loose in our territory. I called fleet, and we gathered a Drake, Brutix, Helios, Blackbird and Maller. I waited impatiently as the pilots arrived one by one at the Raravath gate. The helios jumped through first, engaging it's cloak and warping to a designated safespot.

"Drake, Harbinger and Prophecy on Scan. Fourth Pilot may be docked or cloaked"
"Roger that. Everyone ready to jump through?"

There was a chorus of readies on the comms, and we jumped through.

"I've got them down to Planet III, they might be at the station, you want me to check it out?"
"Yup, just make sure you warp in at an angle, they might have something set up to decloak you if you come in at 100km from the gate."
Seconds later we got a reply.
"Yup, all three are here. you might need to come in from a different vector. If we engage them first-"
"Sabine!"
Our Drake Pilot had warped off in the direction of the station without us.
"Damn, Follow her in warp. I didn't realize she was this pissed about losing the Drake the other day..."
The Scene that met our eyes when we exited warp was not good. All Three Battlecruisers were pounding on the Drake's shields, and the sentries didn't appear to be doing anything. We were going to have to engage on their terms.
My heart pounded in my chest as I engaged my Microwarpdrive and gunned the Brutix towards The Harbinger. The Helios had called it primary before we jumped in, and rightly so. With every burst of it's lasers, Sabine's shield dropped a little more. I got into range and unleashed by Ion Blasters.
what was left of the Harbinger's shields were stripped instantly, and it disengaged it's lasers as it was jammed by the blackbird.
With Sabine now able to divert power to Her Missiles and Nosferatu systems, the Harbinger was now well into it's armor. It turned slowly in space, and prepared to head back into the station.

"Someone Ram him!" Screamed Sabine. Jiag took the initiative and Flew his Maller full speed into the battlecruiser. It took little damage, but the hit was enough to throw it off course long enough for us to finish it off. There was a wonderful blue flash and the Harbinger was no more.
I checked my overview and recoiled in horror as I saw my armor was well below 50%. the Prophecy and Drake, which had almost been forgotten in the rush to kill the Harbinger, had been chipping away at my armor.
"Kill the Damn Prophecy, it's at it's optimal, and getting closer to structure."
Xen was now too far away to jam it in his blackbird, and my capacitor was slowly being drained by my armor repairer, which was doing far less than it should have done. In a desperate attempt to save my ship, I launched my drones, knowing full well they would be destroyed by the sentries, but in the hope that it would do enough damage to kill the battlecruiser before it was too late. I gave a sigh of relief as the sentries cycled off me, onto my drones, and the Prophecy screamed back into the station's docking bay, bleeding fuel and oxygen.
The Drake was now well out of our range, and aligning to a different station. There were cheers down the comms, as we aligned to our safespots to repair and wait for the sentries to calm down and forget us. 5 Minutes later, the Helios pilot spoke again.

"Drake and Prophecy have undocked. Do you want to engage?"
"Hell yes."

We warped to the station, and again, I was called primary. Our Blackbird pilot had gone Awol, and we had nothing to Jam our targets, so I was taking heavy fire. Suddenly, my Microwarpdrive Disengaged, and my Heart Sank.

"I've been scrammed, Drake has me Scrammed!"
Suddenly, it's missiles were doing far more damage, and the Prophecy was hitting more than it had been. To make matters worse, I had no drones to save me this time.

"Going down, repeat, Milo is going Do-"

There was a blue flash, and my pod's interface froze up. I frantically gave the command to warp out. Suddenly, I was in warp, my pod had unfrozen, and I was sitting in space a few million kilometres, looking glumly at my scan.

"Uh, guys, we have a problem..."
"What now?"
"More Reds reported in Chemilip, a few more have jumped into local. It might be an idea to grab what we can from the wrecks and dock up. Now."

Everyone checked intel, and indeed, there were a lot of reds in local. Sabine Kindly scooped what was left of the Sabre into her cargo hold, and we docked up, leaving with what salvage we had.

I've now put my plans for a Brutix to one side until I can use more powerful turrets. I think I'll have the know-how to do some in about 15 Days.
In the mean time I've invested in an Ishkur. It's a wonderful little ship, and I've scored 8 or so kills in it so far. People have a real tendency to underestimate it.
Congratulations to Likhar for getting me out of my Brutix and finally into an assault frigate.