Personal Update broadcasting4reps!!

 "Times are trying, strenuous, and demoralising."

A fitting quote from Yue’s bio. Yue was created after my first attempts at learning the game back in the early days, when I often became prey to the likes of CODE and other apparent trolls of New Eden. I rolled a new Amarrian character, gave her war wounds, and made her look like she had a chip on her shoulder before bee-lining her into Nullsec to “hide out” and develop her skills—eventually to return and take revenge on all who had ganked Lise.
Not sure why I ever thought that would be achievable… I don’t think Yue has a single kill to her name. ^^

It feels fitting now, because I’ve kind of given up. The world around us seems to pulse with poverty, inflation, conflict, and climate change—just to name a few. Wages don’t match the cost of living, and everyone’s looking for a way to escape the system. Myself included.
Due to financial strain, unstable employment, and the general stress of it all, I’ve decided to make a change.
What’s the point of working 60 hours a week if it barely covers the bills? Do I really want this “two up, two down,” a car, and all these commitments? Something tells me no. The more I think about it, the more I realise how little direction I’ve had—and how far I’ve drifted from my aspirations.

Something happened recently that hit me like a cold cod slap to the face. It made me see things clearly. Since then, I’ve drastically reduced my belongings (yes, even the PC 😲), left my job, moved out of my house, and soon the car will be the last thing tying me here—other than a few significant people.
Fed up with where I’ve sailed in life, I’m hoping to relocate for a while, reassess, and hopefully return with a different mindset and renewed energy to compete in life. I’ve started planning another blog, more of a personal biography, in the hope that writing will help with the journey.

EVE is, and probably always will be, a form of escape for me. I intend to continue my adventures in-game and stick to my somewhat solo approach. I’m currently in Venal, where I’ve been for some time. We’re in pirate space, based out of Nullsec stations—which has always appealed to me. It’s a great bunch of guys, with very little required commitment, so I focus mostly on solo PvP. Hopefully I can keep logging in through all of this and let EVE remain a positive part of my life—not just an escape. ^^

Fly safe,
Lise Moon o7

New EVE Scanning Ship For Relentless Explorers!

My Take on Exploration in EVE Online — The Joys, the Grinds, and the New SOE Ship

Exploration has always been one of my favorite activities in EVE Online. Over time, it became my go-to method for making ISK — for many good reasons. It’s profitable, flexible, and can be surprisingly relaxing. Of course, like any profession in EVE, it has its frustrating parts too. But honestly, that’s part of the charm.

The Upcoming SOE Command Ship — Odysseus

Lately, there’s been a lot of buzz about the newest addition to the Sisters of EVE exploration lineup — the Odysseus. For me, this is an exciting development! SOE ships have always been among my favorites, whether for exploration or PvP.

I’ll admit, I was a little disappointed to hear it’s classified as a command ship. That title gives off a “fleet support” vibe — something more group-oriented than solo. But knowing SOE ships, I’m sure it will still have the versatility we’ve come to expect. It’ll be interesting to see whether this ship encourages more group-based exploration, or if it remains a soloist’s dream.

I won’t turn this post into a news article (I’m sure you’re not here for the latest patch notes), but I had to mention it. It’s great to see the SOE fleet expanding, and I can’t wait to get my hands on the Odysseus. Keep an eye on my killboard — you’ll see it there soon enough. 😏

The Solo Nature of Scanning

Now, back to my little rant — and yes, it’s a bit of a rant! Exploration in EVE is something I’ve always wanted to talk about. I know there’s some discussion around fleet exploration, but to me, it just doesn’t feel like a group activity.

From running data and relic sites to mapping wormhole connections, exploration is a solo game. And honestly? I prefer it that way. It’s quiet, self-reliant, and the ISK goes entirely to you. It’s a one-person job — and that’s part of what makes it peaceful. Maybe I’ll make a Reddit post about it one day, but I digress.

The Scanning Community — A Quiet Bunch

One thing that always amuses me about the exploration community is how independent we all are. You’d think explorers might give each other tips — a heads-up about a good system, a site they’ve left behind, or which wormholes aren’t worth scanning. But no — explorers tend to operate in silence, as if they’re the only ones in the cluster running sites.

This leads me to my main gripe: the way people run sites.

The Two Types of Scanners

In my experience, there are usually two types of explorers:

1. The Cherry Pickers — those who only hack the best containers, maybe only if they see 10M+ ISK in loot.

2. The Completionists — those who’ll hack anything over 1M and move on.

Of course, not everyone fits neatly into those categories, but I think a big chunk of the exploration community does.

The problem with the first type is that it leaves a mess behind — half-finished sites sitting around, waiting for a respawn timer. It’s honestly frustrating to warp into a system and find nothing but incomplete sites.

Personally, I like to finish what I start. I’ll even blow up empty containers just to despawn the site. You’d be surprised how often a new site spawns in the same system before I leave. Sure, it takes a bit more time, but it’s worth it — both for the ISK and the satisfaction of clearing a system properly.

Slowing Down and Enjoying the Journey

I understand why some explorers speed-run their routes — efficiency, profits, or just habit. But I’ve found that taking your time, clearing what you scan, and enjoying the peace of space is one of the most tranquil parts of EVE Online.

Sometimes there’s only 5M ISK left in a system — not much by most standards — but that quiet sense of progress, of doing the job right, is what keeps me coming back to exploration.

Yue's Settlement - Fiction

READ THE PREVIOUS ARTICLE

The warp tunnel collapsed around the frigate, and Yue emerged into the bleak silence of Stain. Sansha’s Nation. A graveyard of forgotten colonies and stolen souls. The wreckage of old empires drifted like bones in the void, silent witnesses to the Nation’s dominion. Her comms were flooded immediately with hostile pings—warnings, scans, lock attempts. But BLK’s codes worked. Barely.

“Unregistered vessel—identify or be removed.”

“This is contractor YUE-17T, under provisional license fro
m BLK manufacturing, en route for negotiations.” Her voice was steady, even as her hands trembled in the capsule fluid.

The line paused. Then, cold acceptance.

“Docking corridor 6B assigned. Any deviation will result in disassembly.”

As she aligned to the station, the true danger began. Warp disruptor fleets patrolled the deadspace pockets around Sansha’s territory—fanatics in salvaged pirate hulls, eager for fresh kills. Twice, she had been pulled from warp, engines scrabbling against interdiction spheres. First by rogue capsuleer raiders… the second by Nation loyalist fleets, testing her loyalty with blaster fire rather than words.

And each time, Yue survived—by a hair, by a prayer, by sheer spite.

By the time she docked in X-7OMU, the outer bastion of Sansha control, her hull was scarred, and her nerves raw.

The Nation Does Not Welcome You

The docking bay was vast and silent—lit by sterile floodlights that drained color from the world. Workers in modified cybernetic rigs watched her in silence. Their eyes glowed faintly with Sansha’s neural implants, empty of judgment, empty of mercy.

A man approached—tall, pale, with a silver cranial interface etched down his skull.

“BLK sends a woman to negotiate for NET resonators?” he scoffed, voice cold and metallic. “We expected engineers. Soldiers. Not barmaids and runaways.”

Yue’s jaw clenched. “I didn’t come to pour your drinks.
”

The representative—Overseer Verrin—smirked, then pointed toward the hangar bay’s massive bulkheads.

“Prove it. Retrieve Nation relics from uncharted cosmic signatures in HLW-HP. Survive their guardians. Bring back encrypted data modules. Do this, and maybe we’ll speak of partnerships.”

He turned, cloak trailing behind him. “Or die quietly. That would also be useful.”

Ghosts and Ruins

The mission was suicide. Cosmic signatures in this part of space weren’t like empire ruins—these were active warzones left by Nation incursions, crawling with hostile drones and deranged capsuleers seeking Sansha tech for their own gain.

But Yue went.

Her ship wasn’t alone.

BLK had made good on their promise—two more frigates loaded with experimental rigs and covert propulsion systems were smuggled to her while in transit. She wasn’t just a courier anymore. She was the spear.

She dove through nullsec—threading minefields of deadspace pockets, evading pirate ambushes that spat torpedoes and mockery in local chat:

“Easy kill, boys—get the girl in the black hull!”

They never did.

She cracked relic vaults buried inside derelict Sansha outposts, siphoned data from forgotten True Creations research hubs. Sleeper drones stalked her through the ruins, their beams carving molten scars across her armor, but they never stopped her.

Three days.

No sleep.

Barely alive.

But she returned.

Her frigate staggered into dock, hull glowing from re-entry heat and battle damage. Yue stepped out of the capsule pod, covered in capsule gel, blood, and a glare sharp enough to cut steel.

She threw the data cores at Overseer Verrin’s feet.

“Still think it’s not a woman’s job?”

The Overseer stared. Then—unexpectedly—he bowed.

The Nation Accepts You

“You are not weak,” he said quietly. “And the Nation does not waste strength.”

Yue was granted quarters deep within the True Creations Logistics Suite—an inner sanctum normally reserved for Nation scientists and trusted operatives. Clean metallic floors, dim golden lighting, and a viewport that stared into the silent, starless void.

Her new orders were already waiting on her datapad.

Mission Designation: NET Resonator Acquisition
Objective: Coordinate covert operations with BLK. Secure resonator technology for capital hull integration.
Assets Granted: 3 covert frigates, 1 modified cruiser (pending), encrypted transponder keys, full logistic support from True Creations.

Yue leaned back in the black leather chair of her quarters, the hum of the station thrumming beneath her bones. Outside, Sansha ships drifted like silent leviathans—waiting.

She smirked.

“Alright then… let’s build your ghosts.”

Where Have All The Eve Bloggers Gone?

 When I undocked my blog again after a long stay in station, I expected to find familiar beacons lighting up the system. Instead, local was empty. My old blogroll looks like a killboard after a bad gatecamp—nothing but wrecks and abandoned hulls. The capsuleers I used to fly with through words and hyperlinks seem to have warped off to parts unknown.

It’s not that the EVE community went silent. Far from it. They just moved their citadels. These days, you’ll find them streaming on Twitch, narrating their fleets on YouTube, or debating fits in a Discord channel that pings more than CONCORD on a bad day. The grand blog alliances of yesteryear have disbanded; the starbases are offline. Somewhere out there, an ancient WordPress installation is still spinning in space, quietly auto-renewing its domain while the owner forgot the login.

It’s easy to see why the exodus happened. Writing a blog post feels a lot like hauling PI through lowsec—technically rewarding, but dangerously time-consuming, and someone’s always ready to blow it up before you reach your destination. Streaming, on the other hand, is like running Abyssals with blinged-out fits and guaranteed viewers: instant gratification, visible loot ticks, and chat reactions in real time. No waiting for comment moderation, no fiddling with RSS feeds, no wondering if anyone actually read to the end.

Then there’s the attention economy—EVE players’ true final boss. Once upon a time, people followed RSS feeds the way they now chase killmails. These days, they prefer short, shiny things. If your post doesn’t have a thumbnail or a meme, it’s cloaked. You could write the next great analysis of null-sec economics, but someone will scroll past it to watch a two-minute video titled “I Accidentally Titan Bridged Myself Into a Wormhole”. You can’t really blame them. That’s premium content.

Still, I think there’s hope for those of us who like the long warp. Blogs don’t need to compete with streams or videos; they just need to do what they’ve always done best: tell stories that last longer than a single patch cycle. The universe of New Eden runs on drama, numbers, and nostalgia. There’s room for quiet reflections between fleet fights, for thoughtful dissections of market crashes, or for poetic laments about losing a freighter full of skill injectors because you “just needed to grab one more module.”

Maybe the EVE blogosphere isn’t dead—it’s just in deep safe, cloaked, waiting for the right moment to decloak and fire a fresh volley of words. Maybe the future isn’t about massive alliances of blogs but smaller, scrappier capsuleers who keep the tradition alive.

If that’s true, then I say: hit “undock.” Write that after-action report nobody asked for. Chronicle your wormhole misadventures. Complain about your corp mates in a public post your CEO will definitely read. Be the blog you wish you could still find in your bookmarks.

After all, someone’s got to put the next killmail on the board of history—and it might as well be written by you.

Life of Lise - Fiction

So, more than a break has occurred since I last attended to Life of Lise. I hope to keep this as the main part of my blog. The last update had me slap bang on the frontline of the Caldari faction war. Our presence was becoming a problem for more than a few and the whole ordeal ended in us being pushed out of our home system. Being 7 or 8 jumps from the safety of highsec we decided to disband. however much fun we had there I think it burned quite a lot of us. from, there on I have kind of been solo. going from small corporation too small corporation. Let me Entertain you whilst trying to bring Lise's Story up to date, Enjoy...

Breakfast in Venal

The station seems strangely busy.
Lise thought to herself as she wandered down the long gunmetal alleys toward the serveries. It was uncommon to see more than two or three people on her morning walk for breakfast. She was still residing in her original stalking area in Venal, a place she had chosen for its lack of residents and the absence of the usual hustle and bustle of an average constellation.

It had become more of a home these days than a hideaway. Lise had retired from the militia—it felt like an eternity ago—and the quiet hum of the station had suited her just fine.

“Morning!”

The chirpy voice startled her. Lise dropped her datapad, the clatter echoing down the corridor.

“Let me get that,” the man said, stooping to retrieve it.

Lise stood frozen. She tried to say thank you, but it came out as little more than a breath.

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he said with a grin. “Name’s Eveh. I’m here with my crew—assessing the system. Seems quiet.”

Eveh was tall, broad-shouldered, with a chiseled jaw and a casual posture that made him look entirely out of place among the drab station corridors. His uniform jacket was unzipped, and he looked more like an adventurer than a fleet commander. He crossed his arms and studied her, waiting for a response.

“Your crew?” Lise finally managed. “Er… ah… okay, yeah… um, normally I mean…” She gave up, blushing.

Eveh chuckled. “Heh. So it is quiet then. You don’t speak much?”

Lise cleared her throat and rubbed at her eyes. “Sorry, I just woke. I’m not used to conversation so early in the day. Yes, it’s normally quiet. These are all your people?”

She gestured toward the group of four capsuleers who had just passed them, talking idly among themselves.

Eveh nodded. “Scouts, engineers, a couple of logistics pilots. We’re mapping out the system—thinking of setting up a colony here. I do have history here you know, besides It’s remote, stable, and… well, beautiful in its own lonely way.”

Lise’s expression stiffened. “A colony?”

“Yeah,” Eveh said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “We’ll start small. An industrial wing, maybe a few research outposts. Nothing that should get in your way.”

Lise frowned. “You will get in my way. You bring a fleet into Venal, others will follow. You can’t just plant a flag and expect it to stay quiet.”

Eveh smiled faintly, a knowing glint in his eye. “You sound like someone who’s seen it before.”

“I’ve lived through it,” Lise said flatly. “I came here to be away from it.”

The silence between them hung heavy for a moment, filled only by the faint vibration of the station’s life-support systems.

“I understand,” Eveh said finally. “But sometimes quiet systems need a bit of life breathed into them. Maybe you’ll see it differently, in time.”

Lise crossed her arms, mirroring his stance. “Don’t count on it. I’ll be staying, no matter what you decide to do.”

Eveh grinned again—calm, confident, maybe even a little amused. “Good. It’ll be nice to have someone local to keep us honest.”

He gave a half-salute, then turned to leave. His crew followed, boots echoing on the metal floor.

Lise stood watching until they disappeared down the corridor. The air seemed heavier now. She picked up her datapad and continued toward the serveries, her appetite dulled.

She could already picture the flashing lights of new beacons in orbit, the quiet skyline fractured by industrial scaffolding.

“Colonize the system,” she murmured to herself. “Over my dead clone.”

But deep down, even she could feel it—the faint, unwelcome spark of curiosity.

to be continued...

The Lone Wolf’s Path: The State of Solo PvP in EVE Online

 

Excuse the AWOL elephant in the room I may come back too address that some point. Still in and out of game. I still thoroughly enjoy Solo content in all forms. My recent absences had me questioning if my usual approach was still viable...

Flying solo in EVE Online is one of the purest expressions of what makes New Eden special. It’s dangerous, unpredictable, and at times brutally unfair—but that’s also why it’s so rewarding. Every fight is yours alone. Every escape, every kill, every explosion is a direct reflection of your skill, guts, and creativity.

In an age where massive fleets dominate the headlines, solo PvP remains a quiet art. It’s the difference between commanding a warship and being a duelist in the void—stripped of safety nets, politics, and doctrines. You choose your fights, your fits, your routes. There’s no waiting on a fleet ping or a logistics chain—just you, your ship, and whatever New Eden throws your way.

Of course, the lone wolf life isn’t easy. You’ll lose ships. You’ll get blobbed. You’ll fight entire alliances who see your killmail as a trophy. But every time you survive, every time you outfly or outthink a fleet, the rush is real. Solo PvP teaches you faster than any fleet fight ever could—because your mistakes and triumphs are all your own.

Recent updates from CCP, like the Legion and Revenant expansion tweaks, have shifted the balance once again. Jump bridge changes have made travel riskier but more interesting, creating ambush opportunities that solo hunters can exploit. Ship rebalances—like tweaks to the Tornado and Ferox Navy Issue—have shaken up old metas, rewarding those who adapt quickly and punish those who fly by habit. In other words: perfect conditions for creative pilots.

Despite EVE’s constant evolution, solo PvP remains sustainable if you approach it with the right mindset. The trick isn’t to “win every fight”—it’s to fight smart, fly ships you can afford to lose, and keep your learning curve steep. Cheap, versatile hulls like frigates and cruisers let you stay dangerous without going broke. Combine that with an eye for patch notes, flexible fittings, and a few escape bookmarks, and you’ll thrive where others hesitate to undock.

But sustainability isn’t just about ISK—it’s about mentality. A solo pilot learns to embrace loss, to laugh at bad fights, and to celebrate even the smallest victories. Over time, you build intuition—when to commit, when to disengage, when to warp off and live to fight another day.

So yes, solo PvP is absolutely viable in 2025. In fact, it might be more exciting now than ever. CCP’s recent balance passes have made the galaxy a little more unpredictable, and unpredictability is where solo pilots shine. If you can roll with the punches, keep your ships light, and your map routes fluid, you’ll find more opportunities than obstacles.

The truth is, EVE will always reward those willing to take the risk alone. The galaxy may be vast and hostile, but for those who dare to fly solo, it’s also deeply personal—a space where every killmail tells your story.

So fit up, undock, and embrace the chaos. In New Eden, the most sustainable strategy might just be to keep flying anyway.

Yue's Long way too Sansha space - Fiction

Greetings!

I itch with the need to put EVE into fiction. Hope you enjoy this one. Thanks for reading!

---

"Yue... YUE!!!"

Yue rolled out of her bunk and fell to the floor, trying to scramble for her escape pod in her dreams. It had been some time since the events in the wormhole, and the memories still taunted her. Troviel, the misfortuned capsuleer, had dragged the crew out of bed one by one and bargained for their release to try and prolong his inevitable death. Presumably, he was trying to call reinforcements to aid an escape of some fashion.

Basz was the last crew member left. Yue had waited for him in her pod on the wormhole that day, but he never returned. She had presumed her dear friend dead — or worse, still in the hands of Troviel.

"Argh, GEROFF!"

Dissy chuckled and pinched Yue on the arm, bringing her back into reality.
"What you doin’ on the deck there, ya drone! You were meant to come swap me for my break an hour ago!"

Dissy was a good friend and also a criminal capsuleer like Yue. It was common to find criminals living low-key in stations away from their warrants and bounties. They preferred to hide in stations rather than pilot in space — for obvious reasons.

Yue had taken refuge in a station near Jita and found herself a job in one of the bars. It had been habitual for her to take a break from space when coming close to death. However, time had healed as much as it could, and Yue was becoming restless again.

"I'm comin’, I'm coming!"

Yue picked herself up and brushed the dust from her nightsuit.
Ugh, this is grim... it’s about time I got me back on a ship.
She fumbled around looking for her boots and belongings.

Yue’s station accommodation was small — more suited to being storage or utility space. The quarters consisted of a bunk and two lockers; cramped and dusty. Holes in the air conditioning filters would blow dust right into Yue’s quarters — you could wipe the floor with your finger and see the line clearly. The heavy metal walls were gunmetal grey, and it all felt like the inside of a small logging container. The cabins were shared between two, and the workers’ accommodation didn’t even have portholes to see out of the station. It was far from the luxuries of Lise’s life.

Dissy stood at the door watching Yue attempting to get herself together. He chuckled.
"Heh heh. Wulphi’s lookin’. BLK have some contracts they need filled again if you’re that intent. You’ll have to clean the glasses and replace the barrels before any of that nonsense though. I stood your post — I didn’t do your chores!"

Yue paused, looking up from her boots with her only good eye.
"And how d’ya expect me to get there?! Or work there? You know Amarr would just gun me down!"

BLK were a small but sophisticated industrial group residing in Amarrian space. Dissy leaned against the doorframe, smirking. The faint glint of gold from his Amarrian identification tag reflected the dim light of the room.

"That’s where you’re wrong," he said. "BLK have friends. Friends who can make people disappear. Even in Amarr."

Yue snorted, fastening her boots.
"Disappear? You mean like Basz did?"

The smirk faded. "Careful," he said quietly. "Some ghosts don’t stay buried."

The silence hung like a weight between them. The faint hum of the station’s life support filled the room — the same endless drone that made station life feel like living inside a beast’s belly. Yue finally stood, brushing the wrinkles from her jacket and grabbing the datapad from the locker.

"Fine," she muttered. "If I’m goin’ back to space, I’m not doin’ it as some scrub hauler. Your BLK got a ship in this contract?... Something that can take a few hits if I run into trouble."

Troviel laughed, shaking his head.
"You’ll be lucky if they give you a hull with working thrusters. But sure. I’ll make the call."

It took three days and a mountain of forged credentials, but somehow, Yue found herself sitting in the cargo bay of a transport bound for the Sarum Family Assembly Plant — BLK’s headquarters. Her identity was scrubbed, her biometric markers looped with an artificial signature, and her capsuleer tag buried under layers of false data. The smuggling crew didn’t talk much. They didn’t need to. Everyone knew what kind of trouble came from getting caught moving an outlaw into Imperial space.

The ship dropped out of warp just outside the glimmering gold of the Amarr-built station. Even through the ship’s narrow viewport, the sight made Yue’s chest tighten. The place was everything she had lost — civilization, order, the illusion of safety. She’d traded all of that for the dark silence of lawless space.

Wulphi was BLK’s representative — a clean-cut Amarrian in a dark robe. He greeted her in a private hangar. His voice was smooth, practiced, detached.

"Yue. I’ve heard the stories. You’ve got the kind of experience we can use — and the kind of reputation we can’t afford to be seen with. Fortunately, we specialize in discretion."

He motioned toward a small frigate resting under the hangar lights. Its hull was matte black, segmented like a serpent’s scales, and the BLK insignia was barely visible under the carbon coating.

"Consider this your test," he continued. "We need rare manufacturing components found only in Sansha’s Nation. Our usual haulers won’t go near it. You, however... you don’t have much to lose."

Yue smiled thinly. "You make it sound like a favor."

The man’s lips twitched. "If you make it back, it will be."

Smuggling her back out of Amarr space was a delicate ballet of false transponders, decoy cargo, and forged routes. BLK’s logistics team worked in silence, moving her from ship to ship under the radar of CONCORD and the Imperial Navy. By the time she reached Kor-Azor, her nerves were raw, her palms slick with sweat.

"This is as far as we can take you," came the voice of the BLK coordinator through comms. "Beyond this point, you’re on your own. No safety nets. No rescue. Just ghosts and shadows."

Yue stared out into the void ahead — the distant shimmer of the Stain region, where Sansha’s Nation waited. The thought of it sent a shiver down her spine, but it also woke something inside her. That old thrill. The itch she’d been trying to ignore ever since she crawled out of her escape pod for the last time.

She sealed her pod, feeling the capsule fluid rise around her body. Her neural link snapped into place — that electric rush of becoming more than human again. The frigate came alive beneath her fingertips.

"Alright, Basz," she whispered into the static. "Let’s see if you’re still out there."

With a flick of her mind, Yue engaged the warp drive. The stars stretched into lines of light — and then, she was gone.

Far behind her, BLK’s comms officer watched her transponder fade from their scopes. He turned to Dissy, who stood in silence at the viewport.

"Think she’ll make it?"

Dissy’s jaw tightened. "She’s Yue," he said quietly. "If the Sansha don’t get her... the ghosts will."

---

To be continued…

Double update.

I promise I will get to in game, but a quick RL update first.

I believe it was 2017 since I looked at my blog :/ I apologise to anyone who actually checks in. I think Eve burned me abit, I didn't realise how demoralising faction warfare could be, don't get me wrong its fast paced, really enjoyable and predominantly small gang/solo stuff which I really enjoy, but overtime I think it drains the wallet and the enjoyment, especially in the bad times. iv learned if I FW again it will be a short-medium term venture. I am also aware that I put a lot of pressure on myself to live in New Eden mostly solely however its my play style and I love it. even if it does make in game life hard work, its part of the fun.
Massive turns in RL also contrubuted to my AWOL. I'm now a Parent!... ME?!. I currently have a 16 month old little girl, she's the cutest. I have moved house & jobs several times etc etc. basically RL gets in the way of fun shiz  and Eve can be a trying game!
 I'v missed the game and I feel my current employment puts me in a position where I may be able to put a few hours in here and there. I might even keep on with the blog abit :/ i'll do my best to share a few tails.

 To update from my last online activity I found myself without corp again after a period of leave ( this is becoming common I know) nothing eventful really occoured after distortion i made some good friends in hardline but I think I fancied staying out of player corps for a while as my gaming time was to be unpredictable. lise was now fully pvp inclined and I had other toons running indi, as well as doing logistics for lise and doing her relics to earn the isk. I found myself focusing on the indi alts to  skill them up and get abit of a routine going. I would just have a quick scout with Lise here and there to try and kill the blood lust. After doing such and getting my alts where i wanted them i took back to solo pvp with lise. I hung around the fw systems and the areas i knew as well as lurking round my holiday null spot. After a while of small gangs getting the best of me i thought to seek a better home. I had always fancied a period in wormhole space and so. I took of in a probe, my intentions where to find a hole i could call home. And logging in this time round, Its where iv found myself. In a probe, lost in some desolate hole.... bliss, i'm back once again. 

Still Here - Update

o/
I thought I would just update and allow myself to slowly try and find friendship with my blog once again... Scroll bottom for TL;DR

  Eve has been ultimately very challenging, mentally and with actual gameplay over the past months.
I have found little success and a lot of loss, partially I think due to lack of consistency in the basics of flying, sometimes its easier just to hit warp to gate... then see the bubble.

I have since bid farewell to Distortion. To summarise what happened there, The CEO became burned, lacking enthusiasm for what once was, and also giving way to some well needed RL time ( a slight presumption)
  Distortion, being a very handy corp was in the midst of expanding, we had formed the alliance amplified around the corp and where beginning to grow. Unfortunately I think the surrounding corporations and the gallente took this into consideration and decided on dealing with the puppy instead of the dog so to speak.
We where overcome in our home in okkamon, and the gallente malitia fought and turned over our system. they did this regimentally and without remorse, this was ultimately the end... it had forced us to make some very strong decisions about our future. the alliance split as quick as it was formed and the Corp began to fall apart. so much so that the gallente even took pity, promising to let us reinstate with our home, but it was too late.
After this time, I saw little of the Ceo, and what I did seemed forced.
Members of the corp took a seat and between the remaining pilots left we discussed our options, which boiled down to three, Continue to fight the Faction war battles, move home with intention of regaining okkamon... or become a pirate corp in lowsec... or join forces with C02 and reside in Null.
  We had deployed and lost the majority of our fleets, we had no CEO and minimal direction or drive, we where consistently being outshipped and outnumbered by opposing factions and the pirate corps and so, to continue with FW as a group seemed pointless, and many had also burned and had little interest or hope for success in this field.
  Personally I favoured the idea of becoming a pirate corp, although there was no initial direction for it, we could have found content in ganking freighters close to high sec, engaged in mercenary activities and become a threat to all factions, all with no fear of loosing a home or our space. Others showed little interest in these activities and the idea was quickly scrapped in many's eyes.
  Finally, was the proposition we had been offered by Co2. Our CEO, probably anticipating his retire had contacts in Co2 and had struck a deal with them about merging forces. I believe as a means for corp survival and also as a positive way to leave his fellow followers.
 And so, our once legendary CEO left, leaving one pilot to take the place of CEO and manage the bitter tethers of what was left. By this time the majority of the corp had made there own decisions and left, leaving only the most loyal and the completely oblivious.
Instinct, Now the new CEO of distortion followed favour and agreed that the best move for the corporation was to join forces in nullsec, with intention of becoming a feeder corp for Co2.
  Thinking back to my older days in null, I was not overly happy with the decision but I was willing to see it through, I thought we could have our place and possibly do well there. Although I am far from partial to compulsory fleets, POS bashing, politics, etc etc. not to mention that null is often humongous numbers or nothing, which is no good for solo.
 And so we made the arduous journey across New Eden. From Black rise right the way south to Providence. personally, I am not one to sell up and re-buy its just not in my nature. one ship is not another. And so i possibly found the journey more trying than others.
We found ourselves settled in 68FT- I thought I would stay with the corp for the durtion, possibly dabble in the 'ping fleets' and try to make use of Null space. The weeks went on and it seemed like a boring drag, I half heartedly skilled into a carrier and began to make a little capital.( no pun intended) by this time I was becoming frustrated with 'having' to be in fleets and found myself ignorant to the alarms ringing, and other pilots telling me I 'Should not be ratting right now, get in fleet'. I'd heard it one to many times. I slowly removed my assets and began looking for something a little more me, all the while making good use of the ratting space. Despite all this. Shortly after Instinct was made CEO he took a leave. around a month or two I would say. On his return I would log in to find myself dispatched from the leadership with no warning or discussion. I found this quite rude, At the time I was part way through logistics and found I could no longer manage corp. And my alt's that needed to get back in corp could not... it just backed up my farewell.
Scrolling through corporations had one 'Hard-Line Syndicate' pop out at me. These Guys advertise minimal rules and regs, No consistent requirement to get involved in Null activities and fleets. I Joined there public channel and conversed over the next couple of weeks with them.
 I could Have a home with fellow, likeminded capsuleers and still go about my own business. This seemed ideal. and so my Journey coninued!

TLDR - Distortion died, remainder still with Co2 carebearing...I cba with sov and B.S , left, joined Hard-line. felt better... Yaay!!

The Hauler - Fiction

Blogger!!! it has been a short while!
I'm sure you will learn that despite my initial efforts, I am unpredictable and inconsistent when it comes to my blog, and anything else for that matter. For this I apologise, but it shall not change, believe me she has tried. :)
In hindsight I have taken a break from Lise's Life and thought I would enlighten any curious people Whom have read my last posts... Enjoy!

A high pitch whine of the microwarp drive engaging had woken Basz from a light snooze. Already?!  Shuffling out of the bed and sitting on the edge, Basz groaned, rolling his shoulders and massaging tender muscles to establish connection with his body, he looked out through a porthole and his predictions where confirmed. The Blockade runner was just off the undock of the destination,  

Fracking eggers, must have forgotten us fleshies wear out.

Basz had assisted the rest of his crew a few hours previous, Loading ammo and paste from Jita. Large loads where normally handled by drones and machinery, but light loads where down to the crew to load, it was no easy task. The crew of 8 had loaded the blockade runner in just under two hours, 5,000 m3 in containers, back and forth from the market delivery and into the blockade runner, all by living hands. 

 The Capsuleer had been taking on contracts for the Caldari malitia,  a reletively safe job for him and his crew, running light hauls to and from jita with 75% of the haul through high security, and the last leg through low sec. Being in a blockade runner made the trip all the more safe. 

  The Blockade runner was locked onto by tractor beam and hauled into the station. The capsuleer spoke over comms to his crew

“stand by to dock. We will not be hanging around here I want this crap offloaded so we can get out of here and grab another load, two hours is not acceptable! so shape yourselves and be ready!”

Basz mumbled a few choice words he would have liked the capsuleer to have heard  before getting dressed and cleaned, he hurried to meet the rest of the crew ready to unload.

“Hey Basz!, you here that cheeky egger just now?!” 

A Tall Amaarian lady stood waiting in the doorway of the hanger entrance, slumped up against the side of the Porthole. She had short red hair and a fringe that stylishly covered one eye, an eye that was not there, her skin was olive and life like. 

A very attractive lady, Basz rolled his eyes.

“ I heard yea, I think he’s forgotten where fleshies!, If I keep loading and unloading like this, it Wont be long before I’m unloading myself. I’ll be finding something else!”

Yue looked at Basz hopefuly, as if she wanted him to leave! And take her with him.

The blockade runner was secured in the station, and unloading commenced, Yue and Basz worked together, taking either end of a container, Hauling it to storage, about eight hundred meters away from the blockade runner, and returning for the next.

The containers, where a difficult a two man job, Ammo was heavy, and paste, surprising heavy too when compacted into large containers. 

 The other members of the crew Kept there heads low and followed suit, working in pairs ferrying back and forth.  

  Meanwhile the capsuleer, Troveil, An Amaarian man from a wealthy family, Was already In the station bar.

He thought himself quite the entrepreneur, he dressed smart and looked down on anyone who wasn’t a clone, even with capsuleers he thought himself superior. 

 Troveil Had ordered a drink and looked around for someone worthy of conversation, Seeing a familiar face he strutted across the dance floor, head high, and sat down in a booth, opposite another Amaarian, Who’s head was in hands. 

“didnt know you was in the region Seth!, flying safe?”

Seth Surfaced from his hands, There was an untouched drink in front of him and he had a face like a drifter, Emotionless and pale. The amaarian lifted one side of his mouth and gave half a nod in Troveil’s direction.

“Take that as a no then?, What the frack boosters are you on? Your lower than a damage control!”

Seth seemed to open up a little in Troveil’s presence. 

“welI, I made it here Half hull in My escape pod, Hauler’s gone, Crews gone, loads 

gone... I’m gone. I put all my assets into this one, was supposed to be my big break!”

Troveil Gave no sympathy

“Don’t be a drone!! Pick yourself up and move on, you’v lost ships before havn’t you?!”

Seth sighed

“I have, but not like this. I made connections with a Group living in a wormhole, I did the odd job for them and they paid well, respected my services massivly, They would find me high security entrances 95% of the time, and they would protect me all the way... not this time.”

Troviel instantly Saw the opportunity and was curious to find out if he could take the place of his acquaintance. The idea of safe Wormhole work spelled out ISK. 

“What was different this time, Who are this worm hole group?”

“They are drug manufactures in a dangerous static. What was different is that they needed there load, too impatient to wait for a high security connection. So they found me a route into low security, and then through a connecting wormhole. They didn’t get there load. And I didn’t get paid. As far as I know there stuff is still laying there in my wreck!”

“Where is your wreck?” 

Troveil Continued to gather information, already forming a plan of retrieving the load from the wreck and finishing the job for himself. 

“Its in the connecting wormhole, Just on the other side of the hole in lowsec, I was milli seconds from warp when a proteus de-cloaked and pointed me, I was helpless.”

“Shame, What lowsec system was it?”

“why all the questions? Are u trying to take my work or something?”

Troveil persisted with the Amaarian, he had no shame, no remorse and not a care in Eden so long as he had isk coming in.

“I’m simply wondering if I could help, how about I finish your trip, and Ill give you one third of the earnings for giving me the work.”

The Ammarian scowled at Troveil, Knowing full well he would see no ISK.

“Its a suicide run, even if I gave u the coordinates you would never make it!”

“then if it has no value to you, What is it to tell me where your wreck is, and where to take the goods?”

“Fine go ahead but don’t say I didn’t warn you”

Seth took a scribe from his jacket and wrote on a napkin off the table. 

“here’s the Coordinates, first one is my wreck, the other two are wormhole connections”

No more was said, Troveil finished the drink he had been nursing. And made for his hauler, leaving the Seth without farewell, to drown in his sorrows.

  Basz and yue had just returned from unloading the last container, Basz was exhausted, and moderately annoyed at his matari slave like tasks. Troveil Marched into Basz view, returning from his encounter in the station bar.

“Basz Get em all boarded!, we have a job to do and we leave immediately!”

Basz cursed and muttered inaudible hatred as he marched back into the hauler to tell the others, He was not interested, or even thinking of where they where going, He just wanted to do the job and get some rest. After informing the other crew members, who where also not too impressed at leaving station so quickly, he went to his bunk, to get rest before the next load...  All in the crew cabin where asleep before the hauler had undocked. 

Basz was woken again, this time by a sound he had not heard for some time, and it was not a good sound, generally when alerts are heard throughout the ship it is not a good sign.

“You cannot cloak the ship as someone is targeting you.”

Fear overcame Basz, a surge of adrenaline ran through him, inducing an uncontrollable shake throughout his body, Basz scrambled to his feet, to find only himself in the sleeping quarters. Baffled and still fueled with adrenaline basz ran to the bridge, hoping to find the rest of the crew, or at least Troveil. Maybe all this can be explained.

 Basz’s hopes of an explanation slimmed as he passed the escape pods, just 1 of 8 remained. What the Frack is happening?! The capsuleer swung round as Basz jumped through the porthole into the bridge, he looked pale, his eyes where glazed, like glass, as if his capsule had been destroyed and his mind had already left. 

“Whats going on” basz asked with a trembling voice.

The capsuleer seemed to switch on, as if the link between mind and clone had just been remade, He looked at Basz with wide eyes, Like predator to prey.

“I called abandon ships five minutes ago, they want a ridiculous amount...  I... I just won’t do it. So...” 

The capsuleer pushed basz out of the way as he made for the door, Basz hit the deck, unaware of what had just occurred he did not rush in getting to his feet, then it was apparent, The sound of a pod being released from the ship explained it all. Basz was now the captain of a ship... That was in sticky situation. 

Basz sat in the capsuleer seat, slightly bewildered and confused. 

why have they not blown the ship up yet?. 

  Out infront basz was looking at an Industrial wreck almost touching the ships nose, behind this was a small fleet, two Drameil’s had the Viator warp scrambled, orbiting like flies, Two tengu’s dominated the fleet sat still, ready to strike, with two cynabals one for each, at their beck and call. All of which made Basz feel very uncomfortable, ships like this where normally admired from safely behind a cloak or within the station dock. 

The comms unit crackled.

“That is eight!! And the last pod we let go Egger... They will still melt like you, unless you hand over the goods and pay the Bill!!”

Basz frantically looks around the controls and buttons infront of him, presuming Troviel had attempted to prolong his death by bartering for his crews lives, Basz thought he had better reply quick. 

Push to talk!

“WAIT!! The fracking egger has left me! He... he just left in my capsule!!”

Basz saw one of the Drameil’s break Tackle and warp off in the direction of Troveil’s capsule, it returned a few moments later, Approaching one of the tengu’s before it ejected a lifeless corpse into space. Basz felt nothing.

“Then who do I speak with. And what were you doing in our hole?!” 

Basz was baffled again by what he heard. A hole? What like wormhole??! Basz Attepted to hide his fears and replied to the transmission.

“ M.. My name is basz moon, I’m a Matari laborer for Troveil... the Capsuleer”

Basz always Spoke of himself a laborer, he found it more pleasing than slave. He also hoped it might assist in letting him live a little longer. The comms unit crackled again.

“EH?! Basz?...  Moon?...   Matari?,Well Aint it just bob!... Basz, Its Zach!!”

The Fleet Commander, Who resided in the wormhole, was also minmatar, and had Broken slavery a number of year ago, along with others, they had escaped together and taken refuge in a wormhole. Over time the Matari group had learned piloting skills and found fortune manufacturing illegal drugs for the criminals of the empire in there new home.  All targeting dropped from the viator, and the fleet infront of Basz warped out of sight, leaving just one Tengu. Basz and Zach Conversed for a short while, Half reminiscing, half questioning before Basz was welcomed and invited into the safety of the wormhole. Basz Stayed stranded for months, His lost friend Zach, Tought him to fly ships manually, how to fly safely, and brief combat. A privilege and skill that was not often passed through flesh and blood.

  Basz lived wormhole luxury and became restless. Hauling was something he missed, Even just to lift and shift all day, Basz had to haul, and so, he left the wormhole, bidding thanks and safe flight. Basz Took the Viator Troveil had follishly jumped in, still slightly damaged from its encounter , and headed for civilisation. Basz kept a low signature, and still does, finding work amongst only the few he can trust and keeping to the edges of the empire. He actually does okay, 

                    Just ask Lise. o7

Life of Lise - Fiction

The Chaos in the system seemed to have turned into silent anticipation as the fleets sat ready to undock in Tornado’s. Lise was also sat in her Nado, in silent thought, however lise’s thoughts where on her promotion, and what was to come of it. not on the task in hand. 

The comms unit in lise’s tornado crackled and the voice of Glatious came through “ fleets undock, undock, get yourselves off station and warp reitsato, ensure you have insured your ships and you have correct ammo types”

Lise requested the undock, there Where drones everywhere hauling tornado’s through the vast caverns towards the atmosphere sheilds in the station, Lise was pushed out along with the rest, a small fleet surrounded Lise as they all made there way away from station, enabling them to warp off, The comms Crackled again “ move yourselves!, reitsato now! We have defending to do”

Lise engaged warp, the battlecruiser listed to one side aligning towards the stargate, it slowly picked up speed and the whole ship vibrated as it took off in what seemed like slow motion, To have such an enormous ships hitting excess lightspeeds always gave Lise a sence of defying logical science. She pondered in warp, what it must be like to warp a titan, or some other monstrous super capital ship.

“fleets jump, jump, jump...Yes I said jump!!!” Lise was behind, the last Tornando Jumped through the stargate and into Reitsato just as lise landed on the gate. She frantically requsted jump permissions, attempting to close the gap

“fleets align out, align out” 

Lise was sucked into the stargate and thrown down a warp tunnel thousands of light years into the next solar system, and the whole process took seconds!. Lise had gotten used to stargates and jumping, but it still made her feel a little off. Arriving into the next system Lise found the rest of the fleet, She had caught up. Engaging her microwarp drive she got in line and followed suit, aligning to the next stargate.

 “align planet IV, align planet IV, load targeting range and EMP” 

 Glatious was communicating with the other fleets already defending the custom office, the coordinates where relayed to Glatious and he warped the fleet. “take the warp, take the warp, When we land prepare for target broadcast” Glatious had taken the information from the defending allies to be effective and correct, little did he know he would land his sniper fleet within range of enemy turrets, You could hear panic, frustration and dictation all at the same time as The fleet came out of warp in close range of the enemy “frack, When you drop warp keep at range on me!! KEEP AT RANGE ON ME NOW!!!” Lise quickly followed instruction, locking her ships movement to his, and the others followed suit. Lise saw one or two of her conrads primaried on landing, sending a colourful flash of light reflecting off the warzone, and leaving capsules in there place, warping of in different directions. Glatious retaliated “ZEALOT IS PRIMARY SHOOT THE ZEALOT” Lise picked the zealot from her radar and spotted him on her port side, she overloaded her guns...

Positive lock!....come on, Hit!! Lise sent three vollys at the zealot, The advanced cruiser melted revealing the enemy’s pod, you could almost see the pilots face as he frantically escaped the scene, helpless.

... Yes!!.. Down

Glatious continued.“zealot down!! Next primary is the....they are running!! Grab what you can!! Primary those bombers!!”

Ishtars zealots prophecy’s and Guardians all fled the customs office, followed quickly by there bombers, Leaving one last bomber, must not have been aligned, Lise attempted a lock...

Come on...come on...YES!!!

Lise’s battlecruiser sent a volly towards the Nemesis, Glanced and left the covert frigate with 80% of hull as it warped to safety.

Lucky...next time!

With Clearing the area of the enemy Glatious’s fleet sat on guard until the customs office had been repaired enough to ensure its safety. Congratulations was given.

“I thank you for your engagement!, we have had success!, it is a pitty we did not arrive on our terms but that is Eden, We shall be moving shortly and returning to base.”

The job was done, Customs office saved, and even and enemy down. Lise was more that happy with the events, and still had Drop running through her implants, She attempted to follow suit and sensibly return to station with the fleet.

Back on the station, celebrations where already taking place, tech’s, wife’s and children awaited the return of the fleet. Lise docked her tornado and followed the other pilots for a well due pos fuel beverage.