The Beginning

I don't even know why I writing this. I mean, for Jove's sake, I'm sitting here, on my new cottage on Iges V, the lake glistening in front of me, and I'm writing a journal. I could go drinking, go visit the nearby city, go for a swim, pop in one of the many holoreels I have kicking around, but no, I feel some sudden compulsion to write down a journal. I guess it might be because I considering myself an amature Gallente historian. Maybe I feel the need to write down what I have done since I left the navy, and what impact they may have, so that future generations may learn about it. Some would argue that being a pod pilot amongst the billions out there means that I have little to no historical impact. While it is true that somedays I wonder myself on my importance, I do realize that one of the greatest tools a historian can have is the context from the ordinary every day people. Their journals, logs, ideas, dreams, memoires, perosnal tales of tragedy and triumph provide historians with the best glimpse into day to day life, and life in the time period they are studying, providing context and reasons as to why the great men and women who shape history do the actions that make them so important.

Now, fo course, why am I writing about my time as a civilian instead of my years as a fighter pilot aboard the FN Ares. Honestly? I don't know but it holds no lure to me. It's mostly boring minutae, CAP flights, the occasion minor skirmish with pirates, and only two battles which could be called major engagements in any way, and one of those is heavily classified, althought considering recent events, it may be allowed to be declassified soon.

So, I guess I should start with my career as a civilian after my leaving of the Federal Navy Academy. I've conducted activities considering to be morally questionable, I've sat in belts for hours, doing the ineviable yet necessary. I' ve continued to wage war on the Seprentis Pirates that plague space, both on my own, and in large groups. I've flown ships clumsier and weaker than my fighter aboard the Ares, and yet, I've commanded ships. Actual ships, with crew under my command. Many of them trusted their lives to me, and I have tried my best to safeguard them. I've escaped from close scraps, suffered but repaired and returned to the battle, continuing my attack. I've sent drones to destroy my enemies, much in the way I myself was used. I've felt a curious attachment to those artifical life-forms, perhaps due to our shared experiences. I've had my ship shot out from under from me, and I finally experienced what it's like to awaken in a fresh clone body. I don't know if I truly died, and I have no wish to retry to experience.

I've joined a security force, in outer empire space. I've been part of their daily corporation excursions, ranging from destroying the Serp ships in the constellation, to aquiring minerals for the growing industrial division the company maintains. I've been there when the corporation has been forced into war, both time not seeing a single enemy, and avoiding any fighting whatsoever, but whether that is a good thing or not, I do not know.

I have found a new home for myself, here on Iges V, and as I lay here, staring up the stars, wondering what future awaits me out there, in the cold depths of space, I see twinkling lights, far off in the night sky, perhaps another space battle that seems so common out here. It shocked and saddened me at first about how little value was given to life out here. Millions, perhaps billions, die in a single day, in the quest for profits, liberty, emancipation, or even religion.

The war has begun wholesale, with the Caldari retaking Caldari Prime, and my homeworld is itself at risk. I often ask myself if I should have taken the other offer presented to me, those 5 years ago. However, I do not know where I would be, or if I would be doing any good. I don't know if the militia would accept me, but even if they did, that would mean I would have to leave the company I am part of now. I took an oath to serve this company, and if there is one thing I loath to do, it's to renege on my oaths. I am hamstrung, and cannot find any reasonable way out of this dilenma whilst keeping my honour intact. Maybe if I were to preform guard duty for the Gallente Bases in Iges, it would aswage the doubts I feel in my soul, but I doubt it.


Maybe it's the booze, maybe it's just my conflicted mind, maybe it's the ennui, or perhaps something deeper, but this log openning seems to be more introspective that I was intending it to be. I think now would be a good time to end it, sign off, and go find something else to do for a while.

Davis Hmenthe.

Note.

Quick Note. I read an eve blog by somebody, and it was I.C. Now, frankly, I tend to imagine the lives of my characters in any game, and get into their mindset, so this strikes my fancy. Combined with Ennui from writing this blog as a blow by blow account of what I am doing in EVE, and I found have a creatively interesting way for me to write and blog about my adventures in New Eden. So, anyways, enough with this OOC BS, and I don't mean battleship. Next post on this blog will be an in character account of my time in Eve.