Pages

016




- YC115.06.28
- Data Burst Received (Error: 90% Coherency)  

fhTouvnTP+xIVdlgWArj4KzYYu/El7OXn2+JR53hiymfga0OPWQtHiimWvKb+jjxtMa23puF+PUkJnRi
qQ6laVawCMdWGHG5SfXdE4i8YNmGnGWE4gnues/PZXhBYxa8N8l021OTrvIk+34toBO66QL92ktAyzWf
M8GfdPlWmGm+jx474HCJwavG4ahwpMt/OBpVbVZcnpaimh0gbTxgknNIipRbGDBHvvr21TjMJBgeAQVY
Y9XaY5rugFYxflyc707n/J/x5MfA2UTdDDYccB8PQHZcmkBjFt51dkwrpXHV1P+XTvJHi38tuBePkalH
CXOnWQCiq46DVW9LEeFd825hFLO3LLnGCXFZqRIllzlyIndGwuljVrRZ/Y5gtIS5

-------------------
>> Unlock?: Crimson
>> Decrypting…

015

>>>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>>>
Reference Document - YYC 115.6.20

Check: Status (Caldari_State, Makkal_Hanaya)
Output: "3.36"

Check: Status (Amarr_Empire, Makkal_Hanaya)
Output: "3.91"

 Check: Status (Gallente_Federation, Makkal_Hanaya)
Output: "-.0.29"

Check: Status (Minmatar_Republic, Makkal_Hanaya)
Output: "-2.13"

>>>>>>>>>>

014



Why would he send his savior unto us,
 if we will not raise a finger for our own salvation?
And though we deserved not his mercy,
He has led us to this New Eden.

A last chance for redemption.

-- Except, Clan Hanaya Codex 

013

Cold Shutdown

Space is huge and cold. It's almost impossible to find a cold object. When we capsuleers 'see' a ship, it's often too far off for the human eye to spot. It's actually the capsule interface feeding us false images based on sensor data.

A capsule pilot can, if they wish, initiate a 'Cold Shutdown.' This reduces their ship systems to minimum so that they are not visible on any scanner or sensor. It also removes the capsuleer's ability to take in any information.

Prior to shut down, many conditions must be met:

- Warp drive cannot be active nor can the ship be in motion.
- The capsuleer cannot be in a 'fleet.' The link between members is something that can be picked up.
- All 'moduales' must be deactivated.
- The ship cannot have recently engaged in aggression. This has something to do with CONCORD specifications for capsuleer ships.
- You cannot be jettisoning or scooping cargo, the same for drones.
- You cannot be decloaking.
- You cannot have a target locked.
- You cannot have a self-destruct timer going.

After you've shut down all these processes. You merely have to issue the command and in about 30 second, you'll enter a cold shutdown.

As part of fleet operations in [retracted], Taishō Revenent ordered us to perform a fleet wide cold shutdown for 20 minutes.

What was it like?

Not bad. As part of my capsuleer training, I was placed in a sensory deprivation tank for longer and longer periods and monitored. That felt remarkably similar but this was like floating blind and deaf in cool water. A sort of numbness crept into my bones and the energy left me, but this wasn't painful or scary. In a way, it was oddly relaxing.

I'm not sure how I knew the 20 minutes was over. I just did. I was immediately restored to normal condition though I have to say there there's a lingering chill out of pod. Like someone left a window open and a cool breeze occasionally slips in.




012


I sent all my isk to Silas: 1,226,317,678.62. Leaving me with .01 in my wallet.

I know the money will be meaningless to her but what I fear is that the gesture will be meaningless as well, or that she’ll take it as an insult. Still, at least she's no longer asking me to spy on IRED.  The funny thing about that is that I suspect the information Silas requested was simply a false plant by the Chūjō and that Silas knew she was asking for something worthless.

It’s all a test you see.

I can’t feel angry at her because the Chūjō is doing the same thing. I don’t know why I’m learning the things I’m learning or what she’s hoping for.

I came to Syndicate to shoot pirates – earn some glory for myself, learn how to fly, and do something good for civilization.

Why am I even being brought into this?

011 - baptismus aquæ


The sand is cold and rocky, each step bites into my barefeet. A priest leads us – he is old but his back is straight and his stride true as he leads the small procession. Four tall, strong men flank me.

My eyes are downcast (humility).  I have a white flower clutched in my small hands (purity). I must walk swiftly to keep pace. Though I try to keep my mind on God, by the time we ocean’s edge, my feet scream at me.

The priest strides into the rolling waves until they reach his knees and then turns. I glance up. His face is as hard and weathered as the ocean’s cliff. His beard grey and long. I see storms in his eyes and look back down to the dark waves lapping at the sand. 

“Joyous are we who have gathered on this day to witness the purification of one of the Faithful, to welcome her fully into the grace of God,” he says. There is no joy in his voice.  I keep my eyes lowered but I know that there are many behind me - my mother, my aunts and uncles, servants.
Is my father there? I cannot remember. 

“Though darkness fills the world, the light of God is eternal. Blessed are we who walk in the holy waters, purifying ourselves of sin and submitting to God’s path.” 

A chill wind rushes through the thin, white linen dress I wear. I shiver as goosebumps rise on my skin. I clutch the flower tightly as though it might bring me warmth. 

“Come forward, Makkal Hanaya.” I glance up and see he has stretched out his hand as though offering it to me. 

I step barefoot into the dark water towards him. My dress rises higher with each step and I feel the water tugging at me. There are four strong men around me but all I see are the storms in the priest’s eyes. 

He places a hot hand on my forehead. 

“I ask thee Makkal. Do you believe in God the Lord almighty, Creator of heaven and earth?” 

“I do.” I must speak the words loudly so the people on the shore hear. 

“The Scriptures tell us; ‘When thine heart shines with the Light, thou shalt know no hardship; When thine actions are in Light's name, thou art immortal.’ Do you accept this immortal life offered to you?” 

“I do.” My teeth chatter in my mouth from cold, but I speak loudly. 

“Do you renounce the works of Molok the Deceiver? And all the darkness of the Heretics? And all the pomp of the Heathen?” 

“I do.” 

“Let us pray.” He raises his hands to the sky. “Oh God, bringer of all wisdom, he who made a place for us upon the waters and who has blessed our Kingdom and protected it from the machination of the unrighteous, we offer you this child, who willingly goes to your side. We ask that you guide her throughout the days of her life and set a place for her at your table in the next.” 

He looks to me again. 

“Do you wish to be initiated in these sacred waters?” 

“I do.” 

There are four strong men around me and they lift me up as one. They move further from the shore and the priest places his hand on my forehead, pushing me down, immersing me fully in the waters.
Cold. The waters suck the warmth from my bones. I clutch at the white flower in my hands. The undertow surges around me, back and forth. I hear the rushing of water. If these men did not hold me, I would be sucked out to sea. 

We wait as my lungs hold tightly to air. The hand on my forehead is a stone holding me in place under the sacred waters. 

I cannot hold my breath for long, yet the seconds stretch. I hear something. Low and deep. It is a leviathan bellowing, perhaps a mile or more away. I imagine the inky blackness of its sides pushing through endless ocean. The pain in my chest becomes too much and I open my mouth, sucking the cold darkness into my lungs. 

I can taste salt on my tongue. A rush of bubbles flow pass my lips to the surface. 

I struggle then. Useless terror. A small fish wriggling on the line. The priest’s hand tightens on my forehead. 

Water fills me. 

The strength quickly leaves my body. Something shifts in me and I am warm. Calm fills my mind, washing away the fear. The song of the leviathan calls for me.  The undertow tugs and I am unmoored from my body. 

I drift in smooth blackness, fingers reaching to touch the beast’s hot sides. I caress it. Its soul is an immense thing but I feel no fear. I will ride with it forever. 

“—so we give thanks, oh Lord…” 

I am vomiting saltwater on the beach. Someone has placed a heavy blanket over me. There is a tapping on my back. My head spins and I struggle to stay on hands and knees. 

I lift my eyes to the crowd. Mother stands in front, her dress is black and she has a high, stiff collar of white lace. The wind does not touch her. 

A track of small, bloody footprints reaches from her to me and into the ocean.