Work in Progress
I'm writing a story, a long one. The beginning of it takes place during the first year or so of EVE being live (YR105 if I'm not mistaken). While it won't focus on the war at that time, I'd like to post sections here so that those of you who were in PIE and the Freedom Fighter corps at the time can check my historical accuracy, as I didn't arrive ingame until well into 106. smile.gif
All manner of advice/critique is welcome.
3rd Qtr YR 105
Level 17 - Staff Quarters
The board was made of the finest polished marble, one that reflected the starry view from the window nicely. The peices were white and black, the familiar shapes of humanity's oldest game. The two Amarrian gentlemen hunched over the table deep in thought.
"Your knight is in trouble." said the younger man, behind his black peices.
"So it would seem..." spoke the older, as his hand hesitated over the board. "I have a question for you, dear professor...where do you suppose this little game of ours came from? Surely in all the great records of Hedion, there is some mention of the invention of 'Castles'."
The younger smiled at his opponent's apparent indecision. "No, there really isn't...I suppose it's been with us since...the beginning."
The older smiled and leaned away from the board. "I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you've invited me here tonight, then."
"Eh?, we play Castles at my place every week."
"Yes, every Tuesday. This is Saturday. I have a sermon to write up tonight."
"I'm sure you can just rehash something you did a year ago. I've seen you do it before." the young one said with a heckling grin.
"Hmm...." The clergyman said, as he reached over and moved his bishop across the board, overturning a vital pawn. The young professor winced. He had hoped the old man wouldn't have seen that hole in his defense. "Very well, you devil."
Professor Sabal Torin had known the man before him, Father Kraen, for many years, as an assignment on Hedion was usually long term for both of thier professions. University staff and clergy had historically never cared for one another, arguing about veracity and holiness of the curriculum, but Kraen had been different.
"Alright, Father, I'll be up front. I 'm here to get at your money..." Torin stood quickly, and walked to the far wall, flipping a switch that dimmed the lights even more than they already were. The vidscreen on the wall lit up, showing a detailed map.
"...for an expedition!", he finished.
"Oh my! Not again! I was nearly killed last time...."
"That was a wild goose chase that YOU sent us on....don't let me get started on that....". As the clergyman harumphed, Torin pressed another button to call in the attendant. The Minmitaar girl showed up quickly. "Anysa, grab us one of the bottles of Kheram we recieved last week, on Ice if you've got it ready." She silently nodded, bowed and left.
"I appreciate your honesty, I guess. Alright then, Torin, this better be good if you expect the Church's monetary support...."
The professor smiled and touched a panel next to the display. The screen changed to a mural painting depicting an early reclaiming-era battle. At the center was the image of a general, sword held high, storming through gunfire and bodies, his army holding off a horde many times his number. The Father chuckled, "You have to love the artist's acute sense of...sliiight exaggeration! Ah, the mural of Last Stand of Harim'bal. Don't we have the original here on the station somewhere?"
"Indeed we do." replied Torin. "Not that it is really a thing of any real historical worth, I think we all know that that's not how that battle ended....his body was found far forward of where the enemy line was stopped..."
Kraen's interest in history had been the reason the two had initially met. Torin was a new instructor at the college, and Kraen an old theologian looking for a quiet place to finish his already controversial career. He knew more than most any clergy on the subject, and had become a bit of a recognized authority among his peers on ancient holy relics, thanks in some part to his young friend. The minmitaar girl walked in quietly, quickly pouring the glasses from the bottle on ice, and exiting with a slight bow "Thank you dear....Kraen, this mural represents a pivotal event. Tell me what you know."
"Hmm....Harim'bal was a warrior monk who fought alongside a reclaiming army on Hedion 4. After a surprise attack on thier supplying dropships, the army was cut off from all support for almost 4 months...let's see....I think it was about 2 weeks before help finally came when the enemy realized their weakness and threw the entire might of thier forces into a last-ditch, all-or-nothing assault. The army were pushed back and back till only thier HQ remained....thier Commander was killed, and Harim'bal rallied the defense in the last days and ended up in Command. Reinforcement came finally a the last defenses fell, but we won the day due to the monk securing the landing area with the last of his men and dying a martyr in the process....well, that's the story anyways....how am I doing so far?"
Torin smiled. "Not bad....please, continue...."
"Well, the Sarumites revere his story, and eventually the Council granted him sainthood...that sword of his became a blessed.....wait....is that where you're going with this?"
The Professor smiled. "Go on...."
"Hrm....well, that sword, was considered a war relic, and they built a chapel on the site, with the sword in it's reliquary. Then that fool Sarumite Admiral Leralus snatched it up to take to the front during the Minnie rebellion....and thought it would keep him safe from sneak attacks without need of escort.....we don't even know where he went down.....dammit Torin, say your peice!"
Torin pulled a small disk from his pocket. "Here's what I have. Finals are over, I'm on vacation starting next week. And I feel like getting FAR away for a while. I want the Church to pay for it....Oh, and I also have recently decoded navpoint info from a recently salvaged mothballed Rifter that contains the battlelogs of the attack....." He twirled the disk around temptingly, enjoying the smile slowly spreading across his friends face.
"Oh, you are a bastard aren't you."
"They'll do it. You can make them."
"Make it happen. I know you can. You've still got some connections left. You're getting up in the years, man, take these kinds of chances while you've got them...."
The old man feigned injury. "I don't think that was meant as compliment!"
"Will you do it?"
Kraen statred at the display for a long while.
"Where is the wreckage?"
"Oracle attacks are at an all time high...."
"I have a way," said Torin with a sharp look, "I just need the ISK."
"You're going to get us killed, you know."
"That sounded like a yes to me."
"Bring some more of this wine, and I'll have your answer by Monday."
Dunno but historical accuracy...
but sounds like aaaawesome stuff!