I am Necromateur Gay. I am a trader, mostly, and business
stole me away from Jita. I must return to Jita as soon as possible. My love
awaits me in Jita. If only I can return to see her. She has the most beautiful,
red, frilly hair a Caldarian has ever seen. She is beautiful beyond compare and
I long for her constantly. I’m currently in Rens, but wish to return to Jita as
quickly as possible. I wish I could sleep on this long, treacherous journey,
but I cannot.
My autopilot will not send me to the next gate close enough
for me to be asleep during travel. This irritates me. This pisses me off. I am
hauling 40 Pilot License Extensions, which is cargo more valuable than most
other things in New Eden. If only there was a program that will trick the
control boards in to thinking I’m actually controlling the ship.
I've had plenty of conversations with engineers, but they
all have the same response: “Due to technical and safety concerns, this cannot
be done.”
What a terrible excuse.
The safety concern is the fact that I’m extremely tired,
depressed, and I want to pass the time with sleep. Instead, I’m floating in a
pod of goop, wide awake. The engineers can surely create something that will
get me to the gate within jump range without compromising my crew. But, they
all refuse.
I think I may head out to the deepest, darkest regions of
New Eden to find a rogue engineer. One that is willing to break the rules a bit
to solve this problem. With all the technological advances across New Eden, I
can’t imagine there is no cure for my ailment – frustration.
I feel as if these walls are caving in on me. I tell the
ship to jump and the pressure builds as the ship begins its acceleration. These
irritants make me want to give up being a capsuleer. I would rather spend the
time I have with my woman. Her skin as soft as a new clone; her smell as sweet
as a bottle of Quafe; her hair as beautiful as a Gallente shipwreck; her smile
as addictive as Crash. I miss her so.
I will continue my journey. I cannot stay away.
I will myself through each jump. The slow turns of my Orca
are akin to watching grass grow in an oxygen-deprived biosphere on a lava
planet. My thoughts move back to my love. I then see the bright light of the
gate being activated.
Only ten jumps left.
My frustrations continue to mount as my eyes begin closing.
I must force myself to stay awake. The autopilot’s annoying miscalculations are
more than I can stand.
I must sleep.
I can’t sleep.
I need sleep.
I decide to use autopilot for the last few jumps, so I can
catch a quick nap. I warn the crew members and ask for expediency. They
acknowledge my requests.
My eyes slowly close as I feel the dizziness wash over me.
I find myself walking in a field of daisies. There is a
chill in the air, but I am comfortable. I am happy. My body feels light as a unit
of Tritanium. I will myself to fly in to the air without any equipment. I’m
flying over the field of daisies and I see the love of my life ahead of me. So
radiant. So beautiful. She calls out to me. I heed her request.
As I approach her, the flowers turn to blood. There is a
flash of white-hot light. My body is being yanked, twisted, and pulled. I’m not
me. I’m someone else.
My eyes open and I am in a station. How did I get to this
station? I feel a little groggy. Why do I feel groggy? Did I die? Slowly,
memories start to flood in and I check my e-mail.
“Your friendly insurance company has transferred xxxxxxxx
ISK into your account for the recent loss of your ship. This payout is the default payout for an
uninsured ship. If you are interested in better insurance then please visit a
station with an Insurance Service for further details.”
I knew I should’ve insured that damned thing. But, I’m not
worried about the ship. The 40 Pilot License Extensions are gone. They are all
gone. 20,000,000,000 isk has been lost to some damned high-sec pirate. On top
of that, my clone was in Rens. Now I am back in Rens.
Damn you, auto-pilot.
No comments:
Post a Comment