The Keepstar

Early this morning, I set off with my loyal crew and the one remaining missionary. There is a fifteen jump trek towards my destination and the idea was to scout out the route, and possibly create some safe spots along the way. These are not only good as hiding places, but also allow to jump towards the gate from an unexpected angle and thus hopefully avoid warp disruption bubbles and other traps by highwaymen.

Unfortunately, we hit stormy weather. The exotic matter storm is still raging, and a few systems out this was exacerbated by an electrical storm. This was what I feared: in the electrical storm, the Indigatrix's cloaking does not work. This was of course used by hunters in the system, there were combat probes everywhere on d-scan.

We made it unscathed trough the region affected by the storm. However, as we were getting closer to the border of "RHP", the  Respect Honor Passion alliance, there was a marked increase in mercenary gangs associated with their rivals, "Volta". A large troupe of their warriors, under the banner of "we form blob" (really, the names in these parts...) was in 8S28-3. One system onward, in E3UY-6, there was a fleet of RHP ready to face off the Volta's.

In that system, I saw one of the largest privately held structures I ever encountered. A "keepstar" station, owned by RHP. It is immense, two large towers with living quarters and offices connected to a base with large hangars. The thing would dwarf Farthest Shore. It is a freeport, so I could dock up - I wanted to meet the locals. It had been under recent attack, and was reinforced into armor.

The commander of this immense station is a capsuleer named Leutnant Odin. I had the pleasure to briefly meet him - we from the core worlds are certainly a curiosity here. He tried, and I cannot emphasize how weird this was, to sell me the station. Lock, stock and barrel. For a mere 235 billion isk, a good price according the the lieutenant. I think RHP is losing the war, and cannot hold their keepstar... It also may be another attempt to bring in the Amarr Empire on their side. 

These lands are ripe for the picking. If the Empire wants, they could reclaim these parts with just a bit of divide and conquer strategy. And they must be not completely devoid of industry, otherwise they could not have built the massive structure in E3UY-6.

Outer rim diplomacy

The meeting with the diplomat did not go as well as I'd hoped.

We met in the food court of the Sisters of Eve station. Their station in ROIR-Y is what you'd expect at the frontier: it is patched together from stuff that can be found locally and from whatever can be traded in these forlorn parts. It is not smooth and polished like the new AIR stations, but it consists of a collection of panels and machinery from all four empires that somehow got welded together and interfaced. Not always successfully, the hangars have loose cables and pipes and broken lighting here and there.

Walekh Hemanseh, the diplomat, is a jovial man of Amarrian ancestry. He has facial piercings and a wide mouth that from time to time opens up for a bellowing laugter. He speaks a Dekleinian dialect, but no standard Amarrian or any of the other Empire's languages. As they do not have universal translator devices, he brought a human translator with him. This translator is a henchman he calls Mike, and who speaks very rudimentary Amarrian. Mike also carries a gun and a large knife, and I think he was high on Frentix.

We sat down in a small diner, and were served steaming bowls of noodles with chunks of undefinable meat, and a piece of dried out bread. The conversation was not easy, Mike was not always able to understand what I said. And he cut his lip trying to use the big knife to eat pieces of meat out of his noodle bowl. 

It soon became clear that Walekh cannot represent the Federation of Honor Passion Respect Alliance as a whole. He works for the Honor Passion Respect coalition, which is a small part of the alliance. His chieftain, for which he works as a diplomat, rules one star system far away from where I need to be, and they also have a wormhole operation.

He wanted to hire me not as a priest but as a diplomat to the Empire. Their alliance is at war with "We Form Volta", yet another outer space independent barony that contests their sovereignty. He hoped I could get the Empire to come and help them to fight against Volta. He boasted that he had slaves and would give them to me as part of the deal. I had to disappoint him. Truly, these "diplomats" in the outer worlds are very naive and unrefined.

The only positive thing that came out of our conversation was that he assured me that indeed his people are in need of spiritual guidance, and he accepted a shipment of scripture datapads. Two of the missionaries will go with him, the third one wants to go deeper into the unknown. I am keeping the supercomputers, the nuclear reactor, most of the holoreels, and two crates of scripture datapads for later on. 

I will have to proceed without "laissez-passez" from the local warlords.

Travel to the frontier

Things have accelerated ever since I got a reply from the Dekleinian diplomat.

The Indagatrix was prepared and ready for take off a while ago, so I could leave immediately. Or almost: while she was loaded with gifts for the barbarians, I now took on board also a shipment of missionary material - datapads with scripture, books and holoreeds on the faith, a few relics for a starter chapel. I also picked up three guests at the Theology Council Law School in Gheth, missionaries that I got into contact with after my message to the Theology Council.

I am setting up a basecamp for my exploration in ROIR-Y in the Pure Blind region. The Sisters of Eve have a station orbiting the second planet, and it is open to the public. It is probably the last publicly accessible station before the empty wastelands of Fade and Deklein, a battered frontier outpost, peering into the dark beyond.

The flight over there went smoothly, except for the last part where we flew through a exotic matter storm. It fills space with a sickly greenish mist, and will make warp disruptors more effective. That's not as bad as an electrical storm which would deactivate my cloaking, but it was enough scare my passengers.

I've arranged a meeting with the diplomat here.

A reply

The spiritual needs in the outer worlds are far greater than I could anticipate.

Finally, I found a diplomat that has not yet been executed by his master, and he replied to my letter as follows:

you are the best guy in Eve I have ever met in the game!!!!
You've got it down with the roleplaying! chapeau!
I need guys like you.
Could you imagine offering your wonderful services to me?
I would be happy if you would at least think about it.
We can discuss details of your services in Teamspeak.
I remain in hopeful expectation of a positive answer

They are clearly overwhelmed, and overexcited. They must be unaccustomed to contact with the core worlds. 

Also it appears that they desperately need clerics, and ecclesiastical services. Missionary work tends to focus on more highly populated regions rather than the desolate edge of our cluster. The barren regions with not much souls to reclaim are neglected. I have written a letter about this to the Theology Council, and also contacted archbishop Constantin Baracca. He is famous for leading the missions in Minmatar space, and he knows how to preach to a rough crowd.

My expedition started purely as a scientific mission of exploration, but now it seems I must add a strong component of peaceful reclamation and promotion of our faith. The ground in Deklein is ready for sowing and yearning for the seed. May God help me and grant me that I can baptize some warlords there! 

But let me not get carried away. First, I must figure out this "Teamspeak". It is a communications program on Galnet. Phoenix Naval System uses it for their operation comms, so it is probably safe.

Family visit

I returned back to Mehatoor today, but not before visiting family here in Kothe.

That was not easy.

My elderly mother stays at a service flat that was funded by the Dulcia Foundry, but now that I'm a capsuleer I can provide for it. Dad died long ago. The Sisters of the Blessed Age help out with household work like cleaning and cooking, and with their help mother retains a lot of independence. However, she's never quite forgiven me for joining an asteroid monastery. Usually, a cleric is the pride of the family, but if you're an only son it is different. You get blamed for abandoning your mother, and for not providing any grandchildren. That makes a visit difficult. Even more so because I was not able to visit during my secluded stay at the monastery, and I postponed visiting as a capsuleer.

I am glad I finally visited. Even though I got scolded for being a bad son... 

I will try to go there more often.

Canonization and miracles

Among the brothers there is a hope that our dear abbot will be canonized. Unfortunately, this is more of an expression of our admiration and love for the abbot, and not a realistic short-term expectation.

Canonization is preceded by a long and difficult process. Many stages must be traversed, where sainthood is the last and highest level that can be attained. Indeed, just as our station in life is subject to hierarchies, our holiness after life is subject to hierarchies too. First one proceeds through the ranks of the venerable and then the blessed before reaching the ranks of the saints. In principle, each stage requires a petition and an investigation according to the Codex Iuris Canonici, and a subsequent approval by the Theology Council's office for the Causes of Saints. As a result, few new saints are nowadays added at the Empire-wide level, although locally everywhere there are people who are venerated as unofficial saints.

In particular, almost always there has to be a miracle which must be attributed to the intercession of the candidate-saint. But, just like our life and our afterlife, there is a hierarchy of miracles as well.

"Top" miracles, miracula quoad substantiam, achieve something that is completely impossible in nature, like the resurrection of the dead. Saint Jamyl's return constitutes a good example. Note that resurrections have become more difficult to prove, given cloning.

"Second tier" miracles, miracula quoad subjectum, do something that in principle does not go against natural law, but nevertheless cannot not be achieved by the subject. Regrowing a chopped off limb or shattered organ is now more difficult to prove as (second tier) miracle, since technology could have replaced the candidate-saint's intercession. However, the appearance of a speaking dog would still count.

"Lower tier" miracles, miracula quoad modum, do something that nature can do in principle, but simply not in that particular way. For example someone who heals from a disease that cannot be cured yet by modern medicine, after touching a relic.

Sometimes I think that we just miss many miracles happening around us, because we don't pay attention and attribute things that happen to alien technology or coincidence. We shrug off the miraculous, and in doing so have become somewhat deaf to God's direct messages.

Goodbye to my guide and teacher

Sad news has drawn me away from Mehatoor this week.

Abbot Bavo, my guide and my superior at the asteroid monastery where I spent most of my live, has passed away at the tender age of 223. He was a wise man, always caring for his monks and doing everything to lead them closer to God. His main character trait was compassion. Not the kind of compassion that goes along with pity and resignation. The kind of compassion that makes one get up and help.

This saintly man showed me monastic life, and it is because of his teachings that I decided all those years ago to renounce a worldly life and become a monk.

The order held a vigil and a ceremony in one of our main monasteries in Kador, on Kothe XI, rather than on the asteroid monastery where he was Abbot. I think they wanted to make it possible for members from systems farther away to go to a more accessible location. But I can't shake the feeling that abbot Bavo would have preferred his own secluded surroundings as a final resting place.

I went there, and participated in the three-days vigil at the cathedral where he was laid in state. After these days of prayer and contemplation, he was laid to rest in the cathedral's catacombs. 

Even though the past days have been marked by grief and sadness, there was also a good aspect. It brought me back in contact with many of my Brothers, whom I have not seen for almost two years. Joining them in prayer, sharing simple meals in communal fashion, and listening to the stories of what happened to them, brought great comfort and pleasure. 

Dear Abbot, I am grateful for this final gift of bringing us back together.

Still No News

Still no news from the Dekleinians, it is frustrating.

Perhaps they have been cut off from the core worlds for so long that Amarr has become a myth and they are stunned by a missive from within the Empire? Or think it is a trap? More likely the diplomat that I wrote to has already been strung up on the highest branch of some tree by a fickle and vicious chieftain and my letter arrived in a dead man's mailbox. I will send it to another diplomat on their list.

Surprisingly, it appears they still have access to galnet, and even a chat channel, no doubt tenuously relayed back to the core worlds. I can attempt to start a discussion there if the second letter does not elicit any response either.

If all else fails, I am of a mind to go out there anyway, permission or not. 

Thing is, now I have bought two nuclear reactors and two supercomputers for these barbarians. What will I do with this junk? Also, I bought a bunch of holoreels. Expensive ones! Educational ones. The Amarr News Network's much lauded 393rd remake of the "History of The Empire" series. It is the most recent version completely edited and approved by the MIO. And I also have all 220 episodes of the series "Scripture in Moving Pictures", in a collector's edition no less. 

Ingrates.

A day of remembrance

It has been one year since the Triglavian invaders formed Pochven. And, although we beat back the Kybernauts, the core Empires are still far from reconquering the lost systems. So, it was a day of remembrance, a day to renew our resolve.

The occasion was made even more special since our beloved Empress personally officiated prayers in the Grand Basilica of St. Gheinok! I put up a screen in the chapel to follow the memorial for our righteous martyrs live. It warms the heart and the soul to see the Empress and to hear the wisdom of her words.

There weren't many capsuleers present, though. Most of them are in Yulai tonight, for a kind of international remembrance event at the seat of power of EDENCOM, where a new monument was unveiled...

Meanwhile, I sent off  my missive to the diplomat of the wildling king of the north, and I'm eagerly awaiting their answer.

The wrong scratching pole

I've been looking for someone to take care of Mittens while I'm away on expedition. Mr. Jensen volunteered, and I was surprised. Mittens is fascinated by the slow movement of mr. Jensen. I think she first assumed that he was stalking prey, moving slowly so as to better pounce on, say, a library user with overdue books. She mimics him, sitting a crouched position, with her head outstretched and gaze fixed, moving slowly towards him, and enjoying the game.

While this is innocent, she has also been using his leg as a scratching pole at times, and I've had to scold her severely for that. But despite shredded legs, mr. Jensen seems to have bonded with the cat and I am grateful that he will take care of her during my absence.

Searching for their roots

Sometimes folks come to me in the library trying to get help researching their roots. 

I've had mr. Jason Statesman drop by, a merchant who is not often around but who tries to find his Amarrian father from the objects that were left to him. These objects reveal artwork and imagery that indeed points to a specific heritage, so I will be glad to give him some hints when he once again passes by Mehatoor.

More recently, Celeste asked me to look into who her parents were - she was apparently separated from them a long time ago. She's a free person now, but used to be held. So I've been tracing back her ownership records. Whenever slaves change Holder, the Amarr Civil Service keeps track and of course the necessary paperwork. I've been digging back to her first owner, and found the first transfer of ownership contract that mentions her. It turns out to be a forgery... maybe she was abducted as a child and sold? Or could there be another reason for the forged transfer of ownership contract? Why was it not detected as a forgery at the time? Anyway it reveals a specific date of her being transferred to a Holder for the first time, so that will allow me to search further into the missing persons records and maybe link this to her parents. 

 I do like good old fashioned mysteries.

The crew

The Indagatrix has a small but very dedicated crew. In principle I could fly her without a crew, but it is good to have some specialists on board. I usually travel with one medic, one scan probe expert, three other technicians for on-the-spot-repairs and maintenance of various modules, and three hangar workers with basic training in archeology. That's needed for them to recognise items of value from the salvage that gets pulled in, and handle any artifacts with the necessary care.

I suggested that they stay in Mehatoor while I am going on the expedition to Deklein. It's not safe in the outer rim, not like it is here in the Imperial worlds. They refused, even though I promised to keep paying them. I am touched, but worried, and ordered a thorough checkup and a readiness test of the crew escape pods. 

Celeste suggested I install an "interdiction nullifier". I'll have to go shop for that, and then read the manual...

Draft letter

I've prepared the letter, and will send it to Celeste for review. Because it might be useful for other occasions, I'm including a copy in template form in this log.

Dear [insert diplomat name],

Please accept my most humble salutations and well-wishes to your exalted leader [insert leader name], the great and just ruler of many stars. Greetings also to you, valued diplomat [insert diplomat name]. Please forgive me the audacity to write you with a personal request. 

I am an Amarrian friar and a scholar. That would be similar to your shamans and readers of entrails. 

I come from the core worlds in the densely starred center of our cluster. I reside in the vast and powerful Empire of Amarr, ruled by the God-chosen queen of all queens and kings, Empress Catiz I. The fame of your great leader has reached the core worlds and the Empress smiles with benevolence at [insert corp name].

I am on a quest to find scattered holy relics of our Empire. My search for some of these leads me to [insert constellation or star names of interest]. These systems now prosper under the wise rule of your exalted leader. Therefore, I would like to request safe passage through your lands (known as 'setting blue') to pursue my search. 

My research expedition shall not last longer than two weeks, and I will not be joined by anyone else (I do welcome your clansfolk to observe what I do and even assist if they wish). My vessel will be an Anathema class exploration ship, and it will not carry any offensive systems nor any cyno. I am not interested in most of the objects that I would find in ancient sites, and would gladly hand them over to your people at any station of your convenience. I would only keep objects related to the ancient races, especially the Takmahl and other offshoots of the Sani Sabik (that is an evil tribe that has been purged from Amarr and fled) for my study.

To show my gratitude, I will bring for your leader some marvels from the core worlds, like computers, nuclear devices, and holoreels - projecting three-dimensional moving images of people. I hope these gifts help you to scare other tribes around you into submission with your technological wonders.

Blessings to your leader, your clanspeople, and yourself,

Brother Theodosius Savnar

Safe passage into Deklein

It was nice to chat with Celeste again, I had not seen her in a while. She and lady Renaud are engaged! And they've asked me to officiate - I am so thrilled to be involved in their wedding.

I did have an opportunity to discuss another matter with Celeste. She's been working a lot with the savages beyond the edge of the civilized world. I do not mean the Gallente, but the people of the so-called "sovereign nullsec" stars. These are systems not claimed by any of the empires. Of course barbary and lawlessness are rife, and these stars are ruled by a hodgepodge collection of warlords constantly trying to assassinate each other. It's very brave of Celeste to try and educate these wildlings.

In order to be able to peacefully explore the pentragam constellation in Deklein, I would need to secure safe passage with the local chieftain. I have good hope of doing so. The local wildlings call themselves "Federation of Honor Respect Passion Alliance". This attests to their lack of literacy. No punctuation and then "the federation of an alliance". Anyway, I hope they will "Honor" their agreements and "Respect" peaceful explorers. 

Celeste kindly agreed to review my letter to them. She was not convinced that I would get safe passage. I think I will also request the help of our industrialist Drabar, I believe our polyglot miner foreman knows their language and can translate my missive once ready. 

For now, I will look into the historical records of the 51st Exploration Corps. We have a lot of their material at the Mehatoor library, thanks to our Directrix and to Jen Roku who recently shared absolutely stunning pictures of a Water Baron and his son. The 51st would have faced problems similar to mine, when they discovered the early-industrial civilization on Mishi IV. Namely: how to write a letter to a Water Baron?

Scary incident

There was an embarrassing incident yesterday. I was guiding a group of hard-to-convert Lunarists through the chapel as part of the deprogramming initiative. All went well until they spotted Luna sitting with Therese on one of the pews in the back. 

One of them, Odilo, started to run towards her, and for a brief moment I was struck with fear. The Lunarists are harmless by and large, but you never know, and seeing one of them just run towards her... I ran after him, and in my mind there were flashes of a scenario where he'd attack her... 

I mean, there was no chance. Not only because Odilo is peaceful, but there was also Therese, a fully trained captain, who could floor Odilo using only her pinky (left pinky even).

But still. If the Amarrian faithful "face the enemy as a solid wall", it is because Luna is the keystone and capstone of that wall. Bearing and redistributing the load. If, through my own failing, harm would come to her, I would never forgive myself, and that nightmare was flashing in front of my eyes as I saw Odilo running towards her.

Thank God he didn't attempt anything harmful, he just prostrated himself in front of her and started babbling nonsense. I could lead him away without using force, and we'll have to discuss his setback. But I still shudder thinking what could have happened.

ship choices

I'm still debating what ship I would need to explore the far reaches of the barbarian lands. I looked into a recon cruiser, as it is covert and more sturdy but it is hideously expensive. Also, it does not have bonuses for scanner probes and hacking. Reconnaissance without scanner probes? That's just strange.

There's the legion T3 cruises that could be bonused for covert ops, but it is still way out of my league, just like black ops battleships. Also I doubt it would be wise to bring those into such dangerous terrain, especially for a beginner like me.

So, it'll be either the good old anathema or one of the sisters of eve ships. Maybe I'll start saving for a stratios cruiser...

Deklein

Lord Lok'ri and Lady Emerita Mithra are organising a conference on “The Emperors’ Pax.” I have submitted an abstract a while ago, I want to present a talk on emperor Queron I. This is one of my favorite historical periods in the Empire.

It is also the period when the Sabik fled Amarr and went to Araz to start the Takmahl Empire, so it is a very useful period to study, for me. During my research for the preparation of the talk, I have been digging deeper in the Sani Sabik symbolism of that period. I have been collecting a lot of information on the Queronic purges and the exodus of the Sabik. 

It is clear that they had access to major relics, even those that were hidden away from the Imperial Palace and kept in the secret vaults of the Council of Apostles and the Speakers of Truth. They took these relics with them as they fled.

In the Sani Sabik symbolism of that time, the pentagram appears in many places. A pentagon, with an inscribed five-pointed star. Five points all linked to each other. As a seal of the Sabik order, as a secret sign to identify members working in the imperial admistration, as a symbol of protection. It is not surprising to me any more that they chose the Araz constellation for their destination - it has the form of a pentagram.

There is one other pentagram constellation in the entire cluster, in the Deklein region. From the data, and old records, I am getting more and more convinced that there was also a colony of Sabik cryoships heading for that particular constellation. The relics that they stole would have been divided between the colonies for the two pentagram constellations.

I want to go out there and explore. However, it will require some preparations. The systems are nowadays under control of a barbarian tribe called the "Federation of Respect Honor Passion Alliance". I will need to contact them and barter for safe passage through their realm. I'll try and talk to Amicia to get tips on diplomacy with the warlords outside the civilized worlds.

I think I might also need a more sturdy vessel than the Indagatrix. Maybe a reconnaissance ship? Or a Stratios covert exploration cruiser? That would require some additional funds... But let's take this one step at a time.

Autumn cleaning

The alliance is doing an autumn cleaning of Domain. It appears that capsuleer planetary industry can be blockaded when someone starts to build a customs office - for import and export of goods from the surface - but does not finish it.

As long as it is a gantry that is not yet an operational station, the company holding that has a monopoly, and no-one else can put a customs office there. So, by keeping the thing "in construction", one effectively blockades a planet for capsuleer trade. Whether that particular kind of trade is always beneficial is quite another discussion, but everyone agrees blockades are bad.

So the alliance has been sending out fleets to clear up abandoned and neglected gantries. After removal, they put up there own business offices, which should bring in a nice amount of cash through customs tax. 

These kind of operations are quite uneventful. They have allowed me to train support ships a little bit, offering remote repairs to fleet members. While last week I tried this on a frigate level (in the warzone), this week I could attempt using a cruiser for this task, much more comfortably. It will still take quite some getting used to, but I am starting to enjoy this support role, even though it is not spiritual support, a role much more familiar.

Tapeworm worries

I worry a bit about Ishta. I saw her last week, and she was not her usual self. She was troubled by nausea attacks, had a bit of swelling in the abdomen, and had strange sudden cravings for food. She ate banana icecream with spinach.

That sounds a lot like she might have contracted Mehatorian tropical tapeworm. Of course, one has to rule out pregnancy too, so I got her a self-test kit from the medbay. It came with a pack of condoms and a stern warning from the nurse, showing kindness in her misunderstanding of the situation. But when I gave it to Ishta to test herself, she disappeared. Probably just went off to ther quarters. Of course it's a private matter, I understand, but still, a bit of news would stop me from worrying...

Message from Sarachem

I was happy to receive a message from brother Sarachem today. I was relieved to hear that he and the other Goners are safe and sound.

They did not have any important assets in our station. But still they wish to express sorrow at the loss of the station, as - I quote - "your station was blessed home for us for long time".

It is not clear to me what they will do now, but they still have other holy places, and also the Grand Tour (a pilgrimage to circumnavigate the cluster).

Mittens was not his cat.

I think I am glad to hear that, I've grown fond of Mittens and her quirks. And I would be unhappy if I had to part with her.

The hardcore believers

Now, merely a week after they were brought in our care, many Lunarists show very clear signs of progress and recovery. Lunarisse came by and talked to them, confronting their beliefs that she is a prophet with reality. It is so much easier to deprogram cultists if the cult "leader" works along!

While the recovered now deal mostly with shame, there are some hardliners that do not accept what Lunarisse says, and prefer to believe they are being tricked by some evil entity. I found effigies of the "True Luna" in their quarters.

The True Luna has blonde hair, commands the Sefrim, has a decapitated Nauplius corpse at her feet, and will still come to deliver them and bring them back to the gas planet. She is called Aspenstar, not Phonaga. She is clad in gold and light emanates from her (the statuette has an opening for a small candle). She has helpers called Arias, who carry burlap bags and mallets to knock down unbelievers and drag them away.

Of course the True Luna is distinct from the Deceiver Luna, who wears a disguise to look and sound like the true one. They are convinced Phonaga is a word play on "Phony". Also, the Deceiver's helpers (that would be me and dr. Tekitsuno) are not Arias, we are false SFRIM. 

I think they hang on to their belief with increasing despair because the alternative is maybe too humiliating or too painful to consider. I continue with the strategy of having the recovered cultists talk to them, but often the discussions become heated and have to be aborted. It seems the hard-core believers will need a lot more time to adjust back, and maybe even another approach altogether.

War worries

Pochven seems to be heating up again. The Triglavians, loathe as ever to engage our forces themselves, have found new henchmen. Nullsec barbarians have replenished and complemented the defeated khybernauts. They attacked Smokey, the station where most of the fleets from the first war were staged.

The combined capsuleer fleets of the different empires assembled to defend Smokey once again, and the attackers were scared away.

This does not seem like much of a fight, but to me, it feels like a prelude. Poking around at our defenses, checking out what kind of fleet we bring up for these defenses. It does not seem unlikely to me that we will face war again in the Pochven domain...

New doc

The deprogramming is going well. Luckily, the new layer of cult was only seven years old, and there was still a strong, fertile layer of orthodox faith beneath.

Right before and also during this emergency, I met the new doctor at the medical facility, Jamika Tekitsuno. I discussed my cloning problem with her, and found her willing to help me! So I got my hopes up that she can provide me with a clone of the Takmahl corpse. She wanted to study the matter further, probably she was a bit taken aback by the strange nature of my request.

She's new. She still has to learn that strangeness is the capsuleer normal.

Deprogramming

I have to admit I don't know how to deprogram groups of cultists. I can't remember they ever taught us that at the Theology Council university. Or it must've been an elective I didn't take.

So, books to the rescue. 

The first few volumes I picked up were no help, really. Bishop Ainslie's "Breaking down Will" doesn't tell much about reconstructing a faith after the breakdown. "Exorcism for dummies", from the famous "for dummies"-series was not quite on topic. Hedion University Press's "Programming for Scientists and Engineers" did not say anything about deprogramming. It made me wonder though, why they make a distinction between scientists and engineers.

Finally I found what I needed in the Theology Council's "Short guide to deprogramming in six parts". Why is it that whenever a book title says "short introduction to..." these turn out to be massive tomes with at least 2000 pages? I think the authors want to brag that their subject is actually so difficult that even a short introduction will take you years to read. Or maybe academic handbook authors are all sarcastic.

Anyway, I could skip the first two parts, "Tome I. Kidnapping the Cultist" and "Tome II. Isolating and Breaking Down the Cultist". Those are better left to MIO professionals. And our cultists are already under guard in the Refugee Center.

Also, I skipped the third part, "Tome III. Discrediting the Cult Leader". I don't think it applied here, Luna is their "leader" against her will. She didn't try to take advantage of these people or lie to them, so I don't see why I have to discredit her. Also, applying Tome III's recipes will land me on the wrong side of an airlock with the book stapled to my chest.

I started with "Tome IV. Presenting contradictions". This is about confronting the false beliefs with reality that contradicts it. Or accounts that contradict it. The book says it is best done by former cult members, and I am glad to say there were some non-believers in the group. They didn't speak out before, because they didn't dare to. But now, encouraged by me, they help. We talk in small groups to the others and expose the nonsense and the contradiction. When Luna feels better, she can contribute to this, by telling people she's not a saint. If she tells it herself, this is much more powerful than when I tell it, and it keeps me on the right side of the airlock.

It's going well, and some groups have already moved on to "Tome V. Encouraging Confession", which is about the cultists themselves voicing their criticism about the cult. After that there's only "Tome VI. Crossing Back to Orthodoxy", which is about the cultists starting to identify themselves with the deprogrammers and seeing themselves as opponents to the cult rather than adherents of it. It is only at this stage that they are ready to see their sins and do penance to rejoin the True Faith.

Lunarism

The last couple of days have been very busy. I was called in for an emergency: a group of cultists arrived in the refugee center and they need to be "deprogrammed". Why this was an emergency -the cluster is full of heretics- was not clear to me, but I went down to the center as soon as I could.

There, it appeared that this particular cult worships our Directrix. Not in a figurative sense; not the benign  admiration that many corporation members have for her. No, they do so obsessively and they adhere to the delusion that she is a prophet of sorts. They were clamoring to see their "savior" and I had the greatest difficulty calming them down initially.

Now, the reader may wonder: what is the origin of Lunarism? 

Apparently, Lunarisse had an industrial plant, I think it was on a gas giant planet in Nibainkier. Seven years ago, she stopped planetary production orders. Probably she assumed that the Nibainkier colony would be simply disbanded, but there must have been a miscommunication. In stead of being evacuated, the colony was left to fend for itself, while colonists were waiting for new orders to come for what must have seemed an eternity.

During the long wait, the figure of Lunarisse as the bringer of goods from outside the colony started to get mythical proportions. Prayers for news from her became prayers to her. Folks were waiting for the coming of Luna like they were waiting for Sefrim to come down and bring deliverance. They adorned the landing pad with effigies of Luna. Megacorp CEO's in the State can only dream about this level of devotion (as I suspect they do).

Needless to say, it all went very wrong. There was a schism when some of them heard propaganda of Nauplius and turned Luna from a saint into a demon. Some sort of civil war ensued. Meanwhile, Luna, not knowing what had transpired, had remembered the planetary industry colony and wanted to check it out. As communications had broken down, she went over to find out what happed. What she found must have been a nasty surprise...

To cut a long story short, the colony is now really disbanded, and the Lunarists have been transported to Mehatoor, where I and lord Garion Avarr face the difficult task of deprogramming them...

War zone patrol

During the attack on Farthest Shore I regretted that I was not able to help more actively with the defense of this structure. I wished to do more.

I have taken a vow of non-agression, which forbids me to inflict damage ("dps") on other capsuleers. And frankly, I prefer peaceful exploration and research to any combat.

I fully intend to keep my vow, and so I must find a role in fleet that allows me to do just that. Logistics, repairing damage done to my fleet mates, fits for me and allows me to keep the vow. Yet I know nothing about fleets: even though I have the repair skills on paper, I have no experience. 

So I was happy that lord Gallus-Onzo organised a teaching fleet and patiently explained to me the basics of remote repairing in practice. That practice was actually a war zone patrol, where I did manage to briefly give repairs, before my little training frigate was primaried. Nevertheless, I was happy to join and experience the talent of lord Gallus-Onzo as a fleet commander and teacher.

Back in Mehatoor, I encountered lord-consort Newelle and lady Yassavi. They appeared congratulatory, content that even a scholar would contribute to the effort in the war zone. I think Lady Yassavi interpreted my participation as if I had finally laid down my fickle powerlessness, and have now embraced the power to harm others.

I'm afraid they have misread my motives. My goal is not the become a warzone soldier - it is to learn logi... I got the impression that lady Yassavi feels power only flows from the barrel of a weapon; this a fallacy all too common in military circles. It disregards the true power which is exerted by diplomats such as Amicia or Lunarisse. Making allies, friends, is what brings victory, in a way that a single pilot or terrorist blinded by the "power" of their gun can never match.

Cat flap

I started installing a cat flap in the door to my quarters, so Mittens can move from the library to my cell freely. 

Drama ensued. 

The station's quarters have a type of sliding doors full of electronics for proximity activation and breach detection. Little did I know I wasn't supposed to use a diamond blade jigsaw on that to make a hole for the cat flap. The breach had been detected, alarms were blaring in some control room, and half a brigade of armed security were moving in, stormtrooper formation.

Apparently there have been some security issues and attacks and such in the past at the Lamp and they're very very jittery. So when the alarms went off of someone sawing through a door they took no risks. But really, a stun grenade? Was that necessary?

And then you would think that they would be happy there was no real emergency this time (except for my eardrums), but no. I was told in a very impolite way to have the door replaced immediately and not to drill through it again.

To be honest, I was going to replace the door anyway. Turns out I hadn't thought it through very well: with the cat flap thing attached to it, the sliding door didn't manage to slide all the way any more, thunking the protruding cat flap against the side and going back and forth. 

Maybe I should make a hole in the wall next too the door?

Mittens settling in

The cat is adapting well to its new environment. My monk's cell is too small for it, so I let her go about in the SFRIM sections of the station, in particular the library. She's been given a tracking chip so I can find her when she would get lost. 

She's a brindle cat with an M on her forehead, and white paws. I've started to call it Mittens because of her paws, and she seems to agree with that name because she responds to it. I don't think she liked being called Saint Snuggles.

Unfortunately, Lunarisse is allergic to cats. It didn't take her long during one of her visits to the library to get full-fledged allergy symptoms... I'll put up a notice and get some extra vacuuming bots for the library, especially when Mittens is shedding fur.

Goodbye Farthest Shore

Farthest Shore is still on my mind today. I wonder why the pirates wanted to get rid of it soo much that they accepted great losses at the hands of our pilots.

The station did not have a flourishing market, being in a dead end system of an out-of the way constellation. It's significance as a reasearch outpost for the Gate has dried up since the coming of a brand new Kor-Azor research outpost. The scientists making observations of the gate prefer the new and state-of-the-art equipment at the new outpost.

Farthest shore did not have a military strategic significance. At least, not as long as Eve Gate doesn't miraculously re-opens, but only the Equilibrium of Mankind death cultists believe that, not the roadside brigands of White Sky.

Being highwaymen, they make a living of robbing and murdering pilgrims and visitors that travel the lonely path through Eve constellation towards New Eden. There are no public stations around for several systems around, so their victims can't dock up... unless they find Farthest Shore. It has a reputation of welcoming visitors. Of course, there are also some murderous psychopaths among the pirate capsuleers, who just wanted to murder for fun. 

But in the end I think that the station thwarted too many of their highway robbery attempts. And, I guess they had to strike now or never, before the Paladin fleet gets integrated in the alliance fleet... 

Anyhow, enough theorizing: I have to go get a litter box and cat litter. Farthest Cat chose a 300k ISK sister's core scanner probe as its favorite toilet substitute.

 

Battle at the Gate

What we feared has happened. Farthest Shore has been destroyed by the enemy, the brigands of White Sky and the pirates of No Forks Given.

Last night's evacuation went well, so the relics and the station clergy and personnel are safe and sound in highsec Empire space. Thank God, there are no civilian victims.

Lumen light brigade squadrons, helped by friends from Brave, stayed behind to face the enemy. And face them fiercely they did. Outnumbered and undershipped, our valiant fleet of assault frigates and harbingers nevertheless tore through the initial waves of attackers, forcing them to reship and bring ever larger vessels into the fray.

A dreadnought! They brought an Eater of Fleets. But Farthest Shore did not surrender. Its fighter pilots and station gunners pounded the dreadnought. The missile tubes of the station glowed red from the constant firing. Assisted by this barrage, the light brigade managed to destroy the dreadnought - making sure that any enemy victory would be pyrrhic at best.

At this point our enemies were out of their doctrine vessels, and were bringing in whatever kitchen sink ship they still had on hand at their barracks in Central Point. Another dreadnought and an Apostle capital ship were brought in. Ah, how close did the station gunners get to destroy it too! Alas, our fleet was getting whittled down from wave after wave of attack, and could achieve no additional miracle.

At 5:39, Farthest Shore's hull collapsed and the station exploded. 

Most of the light brigade fleet succeeded in retreating, using deep safe points that were made during all these years of observation in New Eden.

The last service at Farthest Light

All those that stayed on their post till the last evacuation vessel were gathered in Farthest Light chapel. The clergy and monastics of the Little Sisters of the Most Holy Sword were present. Also some station personnel that did a last sweep through the station attended. The burly barkeep of Farthest Star was still here, eyes wet now that the capsuleer bar has been dismantled and parts shipped off. Some pilots who fight in the battle in a few hours time were also here. I've only seen the pews soo full on one occasion, Luna and Franco's wedding...

The service was sober, and yet intense. There are three relics that sanctify the chapel: a book from Scripture, an artifact dating back from around the time the Gate must have closed, and a relic from saint Junip.They were all transfered to travel reliquaries, according to the prescripted rite of Translation of Relics. 

They were brought in procession to the blockade runner vessel that will fly them to safety, along with the clergy and the last station personnel. I followed in the Ratakh Hubrau.

Now only the pilots and their volunteer crews -knowing very well the risk- remain in the station. Maybe all in all a few hundred souls will spend a short tense night in this vast station, made to easily house tens of thousands.

I felt anguish as I closed the doors of the chapel, maybe for the last time. I will not sleep tonight, rather I will keep a vigil and pray for our soldiers.

Taking in a refugee

I docked up at Farthest Shore. The station looks battered and bruised, but at the same time there is a buildup of energy, nanites ready to repair it.

I don't have a lot of stuff here, mostly artifacts I gathered while exploring the system. I've loaded it all up in the Ratakh Hubrau, double checking that its cloaking modules and warp core are in perfect working order.

Luna has asked me to hold a service at Farthest Shore's chapel and perform a rite of Translation of Relics. The relics that sanctify the chapel will be moved to safety. They will be evacuated along with the clergy that is still around and the last of the station personnel evacuees. As these logs that you read are public, I will not write more about it today, but report on it tomorrow, after hopefully everyone is safe and sound in highsec Empire space.

I've taken on a refugee too, and she will accompany me home in the Ratakh Hubrau.

I found her in a part of the station that was already evacuated, or rather, she found me. 

As Brother Sarachem did not answer my call, I went to check if he is not meditating in his hermit's cell and missed the evac. He chose to live in a part of the station that is rather derelict even in normal times. But now, with the evac, it is downright ghostly there. There's no-one around, and many parts are already in low-power mode. Expensive enough stuff that can be moved has been removed, even from the walls, so some parts look as if they were ransacked.

The doors to Sarachem's cell were powered off, so I had to pry them open. He wasn't there. I couldn't decice what to do with his stuff, but in the end I decided to leave it there. There wasn't much in his ascetic cell anyway. 

I met her when I walked back through the abandoned passageways, not far from the hermit's cell. A scrawny cat, most probably a feral thing that hid in unused spaces. She came up to me and lept up, jumping on me and meowing. Purring when I picked her up, bumping her head against me. 

Animals feel when things are wrong, I am sure this kittycat feels the danger now. Maybe on a normal day she'd shred me if I tried to pet her, but now she treated me as if I was Gheinok himself. 

The other thing is, cats and kittens are my soft spot. They sense that as well. So I could not leave her behind... I brought her on board and fed her. I still have to find a name for her. I lean towards Gates, or maybe Farthest Cat, or maybe I'll ask for suggestions at the next callsign ceremony.

Evacuation notice

Now that Farthest Shore is reinforced to hull, evacuations are taking place of all personnel and equipment that is not strictly necessary for its hull defense.

So, I have sent word to warn my friends in New Eden of the precarious state of Farthest Shore. 

Professor Moriarty, an expert on ultra-high-velocity experimental ships, was in New Eden several months ago. We met and had very pleasant discussions. He taught me the stellar bounce manoeuver. Maybe he still has assets there? He is a bit distracted, almost stereotypical for a professor. I'm afraid any automated message about the hull reinforcement may have been snowed under by urgent messages from his students or his team members. Anyway, I sent him a message.

Then there's Brother Sarachem. He and Father Sartorius belong to the Goner sect that believes in a "Mother Earth" beyond the Gate. The sect is heterodox but that doesn't mean I shouldn't try to reach them. They fly to the Gate using corvettes. In between the long flights by which they slowly inch their bookmarks ever closer to the Gate, they rest up in the station, I can see them in the guest manifest. They can be quite... deeply meditating, and may not heed the evacuation notices. I sent a message, but I'm afraid it won't reach them in time.

They stay in parts of the station that are otherwise unused (Farthest Shore is far too big for a system that has as little traffic as New Eden). It helps them find peace and meditate. I'm afraid they will be overlooked. I plan to go over to Farthest Shore to get out some personal stuff I have there, and while I'm there I will check that brother Sarachem is safe.

Battle in New Eden

Moments of joy and moments of sorrow follow each other in quick succession in this universe that we inhabit. A few days ago, my heart was lifted by the news that the holy Paladins of PIE will join us in closer alliance. But today I feel anguished and worried, as I got the news that Farthest Shore, our Astrahus "house among the stars" in New Eden, is under attack by pirate scum. 

I have a personal connection with that station. When I started my quest as a capsuleer, one of the first theories I investigated is that the Ametat and Avetat are on a lost expedition between the New Eden star and Eve Gate. I spent quite some time in the system. 

Lunarisse was a stranger to me then, but she offered me access to Farthest Shore, and allowed me to use it as a base of operations, and showed me a bookmark closer to the Gate than I'd ever been before. Up till that moment, I had not trusted her, because I had read on the forums of her attack on an archeological expedition. Now I know that expedition was led by the heretic Nauplius, but back then I didn't know him yet.

It was that small token of trust that convinced me of her good intentions, and that made me think of joining SFRIM, and that in the end led to me finding a place in this corporation, the best that Amarr can offer for a friar-capsuleer. 

I've been back many times to Farthest Shore. For contemplative retreats. To continue a personal study of the Gate. To meet up with other explorers. To visit the new Kor-Azor research station. To join Lunarisse and Franco in marriage. To simply gaze at the whisps of plasma emanating from the Mouth of God while sitting on a pew in the Farthest Light chapel. 

These New Eden visits have helped my quest, through contacts and talks with the people in system. Through a gift of God, an encouragement in the form of an abandoned vessel that He put on my path.

I feel an acute sense of powerlessness. I am not a soldier and so I am unable to meaningfully assist in the military actions against the pirate scum that target Farthest Shore. In stead, I will do what I must do: pray to God and all the Saints for the defeat of the pirates.

A holy union

When I first looked into capsuleer corporations in the hope of learning about archeological expeditions, I was surprised to find some tension between PIE and SFRIM. One was like the Sword of the empire, the other was the Shield, and their strategies did not always fully align. I prayed at the time that these differences would be resolved - Sword and Shield are most powerful when both are wielded together by the warrior.

Today, I woke up to the joyous news that my prayers have been heard: PIE and SFRIM join together under the alliance umbrella of LUMEN. I look forward to meeting the PIE paladins in the halls of Mehatoor, and to strengthen the ties with their famous library and museum in Oris!

The fallacy of meritocracy

Our Caldari friends are organizing a conference to sing the praises of meritocracy, for their Union Day. Those not born and bred Caldari cannot participate, not even based on merit. Nevertheless, I felt inspired to write my thoughts on the subject.

First, the shield: a defense of our own system.

I note that State detractors of our Amarrian Holder system point out that a hereditary aristocracy is not “fair”, as it is based on the randomness of birth, whereas a meritocracy rewards one on one’s capacities and abilities. This has always seemed somewhat silly to me. On the one hand, people have acceded to nobility based on their achievements and work. On the other hand, one’s intellectual capacities or physical strength is also strongly influenced by one’s set of genes.

Smart people or Holders, both are part of a kind of lucky sperm club. 

 

Second, the sword, for the offense against meritocracy.

Meritocracy assumes in its essence that value can be narrowed down to a point where people can be ranked, placed in an ordered list according to their worth. But is the successful CEO who does not see his children superior to the lowly laborer who is an excellent father? Worth, merit, value: like beauty they all contain so many incomparable dimensions that creating a universally accepted ordered set out of a population is not possible.

Nevertheless, meritocratic corporations insist on selecting people from ranked lists. So how do they judge merit then? Typically, there will be a panel of meritorious men and women who will set up the criteria. In order not to run into a contradiction, the panel members must assign a high score of merit to these traits that they themselves possess. After all, it can only be a panel of meritorious people that is qualified to decide what is merit. And that's where it goes wrong.

Those that started out as meritous will by there definition only strengthen their merit, concentrating power to them and their favorite circle. Those that are not born talented -according to the panel's criteria- are deemed not to deserve success and growth in a meritocracy. Moreover, it's their own fault. The unmeritous are more irredeemable than our lowest slaves.

Many in today's State now protest their corporate leadership, decrying corruption and nepotism and yearning for a return to merit-based leadership. They fail to see that this concentration power in corrupt entitled leadership is the necessary outcome of a callous unrestrained meritocracy.

 

[[ooc comment: the term "lucky sperm club" to describe a talent-based aristocracy was, to the best of my knowledge, coined by Michael Young in his book "The Rise of Meritocracy". I found the book itself somewhat long-winded, but the author's short introduction to the transaction publisher's edition is brilliant]]

Association for Interdisciplinary Research

New opportunities may have arisen for research collaborations: the "Association for Interdisciplinary Research". It is supported by the Servant Sisters of Eve (who provide laboratory equipment) and Ishukone, and it is run by former members of these corporations.

Apart from making it easier for people to become a capsuleer and to grow their skills, it is at the moment unclear what they plan to do in practice. Both parent organizations have contributed technological breakthroughs, the most notorious being the Sister of Eve's exploration vessels. Maybe we will get new technology again?

I find it a bit uncharacteristic for the Servant Sisters of Eve - they usually keep their secrets to themselves, and have their own organisations for various purposes. They explore the Gate and want to unlock it, like so many other organizations that I come across during my own search. All roads to relics lead to the Gate it seems. But they do not share their knowledge freely, and so I do not fully trust them.

We'll see if this Association will be a true scientific society or a front for something else.

Reflection on the Achuran faith

I have been reflecting on my stay in the Achuran monastery. I've been thinking about their religion, and why it doesn't fit me.

I noticed that they are very open to exploration and understanding the universe, and I admire that. They try to see through the bias and refute the illusions that our mind adds to reality. Also that appeals to me.

All our sensory inputs are preprocessed by the mind before they enter our consciousness - otherwise we wouldn't be able to make sense of the cacophony of inputs that overwhelm our senses every second of every hour of every day. But this preprocessing also distorts and colors reality around us. We have evolved to see only cause and effect, and to divide the world into boundaried objects and categories. We create mental narratives to order incoherent impressions into a coherent framework. Through these narratives we are impelled to attach importance to certain silly things, such as pieces of paper with numbers printed on them, in order to infuse our life with an illusion of meaning and importance.

The Achuran monks want to pierce these illusions. In particular the monastery of the Seeing Blind that I stayed at tries to do this by exposing us to absurd stories, of which I have received my share. They are meant to shock us into dropping our filters and seeing raw reality.

What is the goal of that? I think it is do free us from the desires that stem from our constructs, the desire to be rich or powerful or popular. The desire to possess things and people. These desires are illusory, so they must stem from the filters and narratives that we put up in our mind, according to their reasoning. And these desires are what leads to our unhappiness and to evil. That last part, I can agree on.

Even though I can agree with these tenets, there was something that bothered me, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Until now. I realized that what I miss in Achur faith is the social dimension. As I understood it (imperfectly, given my extremely short exposure), it is most focused on freeing oneself, on personal improvement and growth and reaching enlightenment by and for oneself.

Our faith is not so much about raising ourselves up, our faith is much more about our relation to the others around us than it is about our own enlightenment. Of course both faiths talk about self-improvement as well as relations to others, but I'm discerning a nuance in focus. Our faith is more about lifting your neighbor out of the darkness. It's about sharing the fragile flame of faith with others, rather than freeing yourself from pain. 

That's what I missed, I think, in the Achur faith, or in what I could glimpse of it during my short stay with them.

The Gardens of the Empire

The week-long celebrations of Foundation day came to a close. For me, they ended yesterday in a grand finale - a tour of the "Gardens of the Empire", hosted by Lunarisse.

The gardens are inside a luxurious yacht, docked in Amarr. I had no idea our Directrix had a taste for such luxury vessels. Or maybe she hasn't, and the yacht is just an excellent place to house a mobile botanical exhibit.

To be honest, it is much more than a botanical garden or an arboretum. Each hall is an exquisitely composed biosphere, reproducing also the atmosphere of a place, and telling a story. There were foreigners and new capsuleers on our tour, and I think through these immersive life-size dioramas they learnt about our customs and our history.

The gardens bear a very personal touch. I was moved by the colonist's storm planet garden depicting life on Anath V, the planet where Lunarisse lived as a child with her parents until the fateful Blooder attack. And the oasis garden, it was modeled on the oases of Mishi IV, where Luna's family is from. 

So, while for the outsider the tour is glance into the Empire, for those that know Lunarisse they also offer a view into the places of her past. It is nice to know that there are some new gardens in the making, I think they will offer a view of her hopes for the future.

God's name

Elsebeth Rhiannon told a tale at the Inter-Galactic Summit that is very much intra-galactic. 

Ms. Rhiannon is not merely a terrorist but she is also a wonderful storyteller, and offers an insight into the mind of the apostate Minmatar. They believe in spirits that have names and live with us in this world, and God for them is merely one of these spirits, albeit a very powerful one. Of course, they see it as a malevolent spirit. To them, it is an angry spirit, cut off from the original world of spirits, and the only  nameless spirit. Their animistic religion mirrors the cruelty and violence of their society.

Nevertheless, the story of God's namelessness reminded me of a beautiful prayer of St. Gregory of Nahyeen:

God beyond all things earthly,
By no other name could I call You!
You are beyond words,
when all words stem from You.

You who name all names,
You are the only unnameable one.
How could I call you other than
God beyond all things earthly.

You see, our theologians agree that God does not have a name like John or Lisa. But rather than seeing this as a weakness or a punishment, it is a characteristic of strength, or rather of God's transcendent nature. He from who all names stem is beyond naming, as the Saint points out. 

 

((ooc attribution: this paraphrased short piece is part of a longer prayer on the trancendent nature of God by St. Gregory of Nazianzen, a fourth century archbishop of Constantinople who was clearly an Amarrian))

Tour guide

For Foundation day, tours of monuments and historic places in the Empire had been organised. I had the pleasure of being a tour guide for capsuleers, for a tour in space around Amarr. 

There are many additional things to see in lowsec space nearby, but we stuck to highsec, so we could get newly graduated capsuleers to join us. The tour brought us from Doriam's reign to Jamyl's reign to the current day. 

There were many places of wonder, such as the monument for one of the first miner tycoons and the fortified monastery of the Order of Tetrimon. There were also places that bring strong emotions - the Elder war memorial, the wreck of Jamyl's titan, and the space cemetery in Molea. I am amazed that there are so many wonders to see within a few jumps from Amarr, and I even left out some, like the conserved experimental construction site of the first Upwell astrahus.

I haven't been in space during many momentous events, such as the Elder war or the attack on saint Jamyl. Luna, and lord-consort Newelle were there, and while we visited these place I could sense how strongly it still affects them. The monument that evokes the strongest emotion in me is the Molea cemetary. It has this immense number of graves, the vastness of which you can only appreciate if you fully zoom out on the grid, each of which bears a message for a lost loved one. It reminds me how interconnected we are as capsuleers, how much we form our own community in between the stars.

Moon drill archeology

I read about a remarkable archeology incident that happened just a few days ago.

The idea appears lunatic to start with. Using a moon drill for archeology. Yes, a moon drill, that excavates a chunk of moon about a hundred kilometers across and drags it into orbit where it can be exploded into a moon ore belt.

As tools for planetside (or moonside) archeology, I am more used to the artifact chip brush for carefully removing dust from precious findings. If really necessary, a small hand shovel or an excavation knife can be used. If you are a real brute, you can add a rock hammer and a chisel to your toolkit. But a moon drill?

Reading more into the details, the idea becomes a bit less crazy (just a tiny bit). As the head of the project, ms. Lauralite Anne Brezia explains, the moon drill actually does not hit the center of the region that it excavates, it digs around it. It is a bit like moving a precious plant to a new spot in the garden, you use the shovel and keep a clod of earth around its roots intact. Yet as every gardener knows, the plant does suffer. At the center of the region that is extracted by the moon drill, there will be extremely strong seismic activity. So, you will need a lot of inertial stabilizers to keep any structure from collapsing. 

Also, buildings are constructed with gravity in mind, and often it is the weight of stone on stone which provides the structural stability of the construction. Bringing it off the moon into weightlessness requires special consolidation techniques. All this effort makes me think it is easier to disassemble the ruins stone by stone and reassemble them elsewhere.

Now for this ruin, disassembly may not have been possible. It is an underground structure, several kilometers wide and half a kilometer below the surface of Umai, the first moon of Eugales V. Indeed this is not something you can transport without a huge clod of earth around it. I do not know why it cannot be investigated in situ, though. 

There is also some mystery surrounding the particular relics that were in the ruins - they may be advanced AI's. This brings its own problems: it is a bit like thawing a virus from a chunck of ancient ice and hoping it isn't a lethal pathogen. It also of course brings its own opportunities - the AI could hold immensely valuable historical data.

Unfortunately, we will probably not know. The moon drill technique went wrong: the tractor beam failed and dropped the chunk back onto the moon. The crash was more than any intertial stabilizer can handle...

Foundation Day celebrations

Foundation day celebrations are in full swing. SFRIM and PIE organised a memorable parade fleet and fireworks display, and on Sunday I'm helping out with historical tours along the sights of highsec Amarr.

The Empress addressed her subjects, and reminded us of our destiny in a rousing speech. As a result I've seen there are many new capsuleers lining up to join SFRIM and I guess also PIE, to show their loyalty and the desire to serve, which burns strongly in their hart now. Ah on days like these I am full of confidence in the glorious future of our Empire!

Happy Foundation Day celebrations, all!

Riddles

A new mystery is always enjoyable. Yesterday, mr. Jason Statesman came to the library. He'd been there before, for books on Amarr customs. He is born in the Federation, but it is unmistakable: his noble face betrays Amarrian descent. His mother confessed on her deathbed that his father is indeed from our Empire, but he does not know the identity of his father.

Yesterday, he brought his heritage: a puzzle-box which appears (to me) to be made by Jin-Mei artisans. It contains three items: a book that has become wet so the pages fused, a small fist made of noble metals, and a badge with blast damage. I kept the book and the ornate fist for further investigations. 

I'm comparing the fist to existing depictions, used in family crests and corporation logos. Meanwhile, I have the book examined, planetside, with an X-ray fluorescence scanner (we don't have this type of equipment at the library). 

The mould has fused the pages together but this imaging technique allows to scan layer by layer without the need of opening the book. It shows where the chemical elements used for  pigments are located. Doing so, it reveals the text or print below another one, even if the text would have been overwritten. The microscopic three-dimensional reconstruction allows to reconstitute the text. A full restoration this way takes years and a dedicated research student so that will not be possible here. Nevertheless, in the span of a few days we should be able to identify the book by getting a glimpse of its first page.

I hope this reveals clues as to the identity of Jason's father - it would be so nice if they can be re-united.

A new challenge

I'm back in Mehatoor, at my familiar library. A bunch of mail was waiting for me, and a couple of surprises. 

The first one is that Lunarisse is expecting a baby. God has not waited long to bless her marriage, this is a good sign! Come to think of it, I did note a distinct uptick in motherhood books and baby-care books, in her library loans, but I didn't quite connect the dots till I saw her again.

The second surprise is a job offer. A new challenge! Gottin's Lamp chapel in Mehatoor is short-handed. Lord Baracca, the official chaplain, has been gone for Empire duties now for quite a while. From time to time, I provided a bit of spiritual help to people who would ask for it in the library, on those moments that it was too busy in the chapel.

Now, Lunarisse offered me the job of co-chaplain. I gladly accepted. It lies closer to my calling, and to my training. Although I am ordained, I might be a bit rusty since I haven't had to perform rites at the monastery. But in the past months I've been doing some: taking confessions, funeral rites, and of course a high-profile capsuleer wedding.

Of course that doesn't mean my quest ends, nor does my academic work at the library end. But I will be glad to let mr. Jensen handle administrative duties for the library. Oh, and I must get back in touch with Arne Maleto, Ishta's brother. He was looking for a job as a helper in the library, and extra hands there will be needed now.

Economic measures

As I return back from the remote corner of Achura where the monastery was, the contrast with the regular Caldari society strikes me again. I seem to reconnect with modernity and the busy daily worries of the capsuleer. Also my communications devices reconnected to galnet in full force, flooding my mind with news of the past weeks while the bullet train brings me back to the Saisio's central hub for interstellar travel. 

The most striking news is that the SCC central banking commissions are enacting a massive monetary operation, pumping trillions of ISK in the cluster's economy, mostly via direct grants to capsuleers. Some of this has already been plundered by the Gurista's! At the same time, the tax rates for market transactions have been strongly reduced. 

These are measures directed at reviving a stagnating economy, where income from mining has dropped, production is down, and prices are still going up. I hope the measures work - and I expect at least on the short term to see a boost in trading on the markets. With incentives to sell industrial stockpiles and flush money for capsuleers to buy ships, this is bound to happen. But if the measures overshoot the mark, on the long run this could lead to a serious inflation problem.

Goodbyes

I said goodbye to the friendly monks of the monastery of the Seeing Blind. It has been a nice and productive stay, I feel I learned a lot. I got the see a shard of the Rod of the Creator and get data on its composition and dating, so I can call my visit a success. Yet I feel that the monks always kept a certain polite distance in their interactions, and that is a bit a pity. I guess two weeks is not long enough to get to know people, but still. If anything, it makes me want to return and continue our discussions at some point.

White Song

My last couple of days in Saisio III. I feel that I've finally adapted to the temple routines. How typical for travel - just as you start getting the hang of a place you have to leave again. 

Don't get me wrong: I'm looking forward to returning to the library, I've missed it. But I have to admit that in Mehatoor it seems there is always some sort of emergency at hand. Here I enjoy the fact that there is nothing special to do - prayer and contemplation. I enjoy the rest and the quietness of this monastery, its mild-mannered monks, the interesting polite discussions on theology and the patient explanations of rites and customs. It is nice to pray and meditate while resting my eyes on the views of the lake from the mountain.

As a parting gift, and because master Drellken noticed that I like to go for a walk in the forests surrounding the monastery, he has fixed me a guide who could bring me to see Achuran White Song birds. They are beautiful creatures, completely white as their name suggests. Around dawn and around dusk they sing their songs, in always new enchanting variations. 

They are rare, and indeed I had not spotted a single one during any of my walks. They are also quite famous in the history of Achura. Long ago, when Achura was an independent empire, the White Song was a symbol of imperial power and purity. Commoners could not keep them in captivity, only in places like their Royal Tower they were kept. A war was fought over this, when one contender to the throne started keeping White Songs in his own palace. Nowadays, these birds still command the respect of the Achur people, who protect the populations and try to increase their numbers in the wild.

We left before dawn and it was good to have an experienced guide with me, to navigate the mountain paths in the dark. Saisio III does not have moons, and its asteroid belt is but the faintest trace of light on the sky. The guide took me to a grove where trees grow that bear a fruit the White Song love.

We could hear the birds already singing as we arrived at the grove. We found a good spot, and sat down. It is hard to see the birds in the trees, but I caught a few glimpses of them. Their song is definitely more impressive than the little birds themselves! Sometimes they appear to have a conversation, singing tunes one bird after another. Sometimes they make a choir, they synchronizing their songs when they sing at the same time. It was a beautiful dawn, I felt as if God had been granted me a few hours in paradise.

Data on the shard

Any ore that is mined contains a unique mix of rare element impurities, including radioisotopes. The particular relative abundances of these elements is like a fingerprint that can reveal from which system the ore comes, and sometimes even from which mine it comes.

On top of that, the radioisotopes will decay over time, resulting in a chain of decay products many of which are long-lived rare isotopes too. The ratios of the decay products in turn allows you to date the time when the ore was mined. The more unknowns there are, the more ratios need to be measured to provide a closed set of equations. It is an art on its own, at the crossroads between astrogeology, nuclear physics and history, to identify isotopes with useful decay chains for dating.

I was hoping to use the data from my ocular filter to do such dating and tracing on the shard, but the error bars I got on my estimates were still massive. 

Yet, it turns out that no subterfuge was needed to get such data. Master Drellken was happy to talk about the dating efforts on the relic. The Achur investigate their relics with great scientific rigor, and what he shared agrees with my own scarce and imperfect amateur measurement. 

They date their shard at 15000 years old, give or take a milennium. The rare element composition cannot be matched to any known system (excluding wormhole space and Jovian systems). The relic is nano-engineered with a precision not matched even by the Jove. 

Master Drellken explained that this is not unexceptional for relics found on Achura, especially the relics attributed in folklore to the "old Gods". The Elder Visionaries speculate on their origins, with a popular theory being that these relics are remnants of an advanced civilization that spanned the entire cluster before the dark age, before even the Talocan or the Jove. This would be the "Cradle of Mankind" civilization - the common ancestor of Amarr, Caldari, Gallente and Minmatar. Some, like the Goners, claim these ancestors come from beyond the gate.

While the relics may corroborate such theories, they are of course no proof!

According to the Achur themselves, Achura would have been an important planet for that ancient civilization, maybe even their homeworld. Some Achur patriots see themselves as the heirs to that mythical civilization...

I confess that I am curious whether our own Amarrian older relics have a similar composition - with my scan of the shard and the additional data I was given, I could figure out in principle. But I have to contain this unhealthy curiosity - it might invite the demon of pure thought to attack my soul. After all, the Code of Demeanor teaches us that the sin of pure thought is science that forgets the spiritual context of our relics.

A shard of the Rod

It was in the middle of the night when my exchange mentor, master Drellken, appeared at the cabin where I stayed, in the company of four armed guards.

A rude awakening.

I feared I had unknowingly made some unforgivable cultural misstep, maybe said some blasphemous thing by accident? Or maybe I failed to properly sign all the correct forms back at the immigration office? Was I going to be executed on the spot, imprisoned, or merely banished?

Luckily, it was nothing of the sort. The Elder Visionary leading the temple of the Seeing Blind has decided I am allowed to see their shard of the Rod of the Creator. As a precautionary measure they did not tell me in advance, so it would be more difficult if I were a thief preparing a heist.

I could not bring any scanning device to investigate the relic. In fact I could not bring anything else but the sandals on my feet and the pajama I was wearing - my favorite one with the sleeping kittens print. However, capsuleers never come fully unprepared, and this particular clone's implant slot 1 was equipped with ocular filter augmentations specialized in materials analysis. It would have to suffice.

The ocular filter wasn't much help at the start though, since I was blindfolded and led on a walk. I think I am pretty sure where we went, I came to know the grounds a bit, but I will not write it down here should rogue eyes read these logs.

The relic was displayed for me on a table, we were in a vault when my eyes were uncovered at last. The guards were tense. Master Drellken was here, as well as some other older monks I have not seen before. They were looking at me like an exam jury scrutinizing a student.

I offered a prayer of gratitude and meditated a bit in the presence of this relic, so holy to the Achur. I meditated a bit more as the ocular filter took its readings. To the unaugmented eye the shard looks deceptively unimpressive. A small black shard with a metallic shine, similar to black hematite or obsidian. On one side a few lines that were part of a carving of sorts, but nothing can be made from these line segments - they do not reveal the grander design that was covering the entire Rod when it was still in one piece. 

After a short while, the guards blindfolded me again. I thanked my hosts, and the guards took me back to my cabin. 

Of course I couldn't sleep any more.

The unlucky peasant

In today's discussion with my mentor we talked about how I hiked up to the monastery. I was telling him about the peasant that was looking at me from his field, and he seemed to know him. Master Drellken then told me another of his stories, which I try to recount here.

One day, the horse of the peasant ran away. It was his only horse. So the villagers pitied him, telling him  "That is so bad", and "You have really bad luck". He just answered "We'll see."

A couple days later, the horse returned, and there were two wild horses following it. The peasant now had three horses in stead of one, and the villagers went "Lucky you! That turned out all right". Again, the peasant said "We'll see.".

The peasant's only son tried to tame the wild horses, but he was thrown off and broke his leg and couldn't help any more in the field. You can imagine the villagers' reaction: "That's awful!", "I'm so sorry". But the peasant replied: "We'll see."

Soon after, the Caldari Navy recruiters came for the young men of the village, I think it was at the onset of the Triglavian war, but they passed over the peasant's son on account of his broken leg. Some villagers whose sons had signed up and who worried, told him "You got lucky!".  The peasant thought a while, and said: "We'll see."

That's the end of the story. As usual I don't quite know what to make of it. Is this referring to the fact that the State would go on to lose so many systems to the Triglavians? Or is it a tale about the wisdom of the peasant who sees beyond good and bad things? I asked what the peasant meant by his "we'll see"s, and my mentor answered,

"Ah, nothing probably. When the peasant was young he had a stroke, and was left with brain damage, a kind of aphasia. He can only speak this one sentence, 'we'll see', even though in his mind he thinks he's said something quite different. Doctors can't cure it. His wife learned to interpret the intonation of his 'we'll see's to figure out what he wants."

Stunned I said, "So... he's not wise, really?"

To my further surprise my mentor answered: "Oh no, even before his stroke I thought he is one of the wisest persons I have met."

I raised  my eyebrow at that. "Ah, such bad luck then that he had this stoke."

My mentor grinned and said "We'll see."

Stormy weather

Today there was a storm. This required the full attention of all the monks, as they prepared the monastery to withstand the torrential rains and the gale force winds. Stroms come in from the other side of the mountain range, where the sea lies, so usually they have lost their power when they arrive lakeside. Still, they can do a lot of damage, winds uprooting trees and lightning strikes causing destruction.

We were gathered in the central temple for the duration of the storm, to avoid people getting caught in accidents. It was fierce. And yet, some monks were allowed to stay outside, continuing their meditation, apparently unperturbed. 

I kept myself occupied with revising a text I am working on during my spare time here, a chronicle of our war in Pochven. But the storm made it hard for me to concentrate on this work.

The cleanup started as soon as the storm subsided. I'll be looking for the blue knitted caps of the statues in the woods for a while...

The challenger

I was still thinking about the grand master who thinks he is the best archer in the universe but doesn't know it is because his apprentices carefully paint bull's eyes around his arrows wherever they land. 

When master Drellken came to see how I was doing, I asked him if no-one ever told grand master Nori about the deception.

He thought for a bit, and then said, "Actually, one day, a young champion archer came to challenge the venerable Nori. He came to the training field, and showed off his skill. He shot an arrow right in the bull's eye from certainly one hundred meters. Then the took a second arrow, and shot it with an aim so good that the second arrow splintered the first arrow. He yelled out at master Nori to come and do better."

"So, grand master Nori took him to the forest, to a place where an old tree bridges a deep ravine. The tree is not stable and mushrooms feast on its rot. Master Nori carefully stepped on the tree and walked to the middle of the ravine. The tree creaked and cracked and shook and pieces fell into the deep, but master Nori didn't fall. He shot an arrow which landed in a tree trunk farther away. He then carefully stepped back and with a little leap made it back to the safe rock at the side."

"The challenger may have been an excellent archer, but he did not dare to stand on the rickety tree. As the champion bowed his head in defeat, master Nori explained to him 'you have trained your eyes and the muscles in your arms, but you forgot to train your mind'."

I guess that was my lecture for the day, as my mentor left and I still don't understand how master Nori can be thought of as the best archer in the universe.

The master archer

On several occasions during my walks through the forest I noticed, usually in places difficult to access, an archery target with a single arrow right in the middle of the bull's eye.

Curious about this, I asked my mentor Drellken about it.

He said those are from grand master Nori's archery sessions: "Grand master Nori is the best archer in the universe. Sometimes he wants to make sure he is still so good. Then, he instructs his apprentices to blindfold him, and to lead him to a random place in the woods where the target practice will take place. He doesn't know in advance where this will be."

"There they spin poor master Nori around and toss him around, and it is not rare that he falls and hurts himself, as he is already very old and gets easily disoriented. But then he stands up, and still as blindfolded as he was all the time, he takes his bow, places an arrow, aims without looking, and shoots."

"Only after the arrow has flown its course through the air and landed with a satisfying thud, master Nori allows himself to take off his blindfold. And every single time all can see that his shot has indeed again hit the bull's eye. What you encounter on your walks, are the results of such field archery exercises."

I was in awe, and without due deference I asked "But... if he can't see and doesn't know where the target is, how does take aim? Is God guiding the arrow for this holy man?"

"Probably not." my mentor answered, "As soon as the arrow leaves the bow, the apprentices run after it, and when it lands, they quickly paint a target around the arrow. They are good at this and train for it all year round, so they can do it without grand master Nori knowing."

As our directrix would say: Okies.

I asked "And... he never figured it out, grand master Nori?"

At this my mentor laughed heartily and replied "How do you expect an weary old man to notice if you yourself don't notice such things? You haven't even noticed the apprentices running around you!". Still laughing and shaking his head, he left me in my confusion.  

((ooc disclaimer: The stories Theodosius hears from the other monks during his stay in the Achura monestary do not come from my own imagination: I picked them from the folk tales and stories I collected while traveling around, told to me by the random people I meet during these travels.))

The role of idols in Achur faith

Life at the Achur monastery is peaceful and contemplative. It is strangely dissonant with anything I associate with Caldari corporatism. I've always mentally pictured the Caldari as a kind of "ant colony people", where the individual worker ants exhaust themselves for the good of the industrious colony. This monastery is about as far removed from that mental picture as possible. It is as if all the modernity and space technology cannot reach this ancient place. It doesn't want to build something new, or produce something tangible, it is meant to help individuals to discover some truth about themselves.

I've asked if I could be given a simple task to help my brothers. And so I've been tasked with maintenance work on the myriad of statues and idols that are on the monastery grounds. Some need cleaning of cobwebs, moss or leaves. Some wear blue knitted caps, and the caps must be replaced when they become too weathered or winds blew them off the statues.

I inquired with master Drellken about the statues. I thought that the Achur faith did not worship gods or saints, as I was told it ponders the universal truth and the redemption of the self.

He explained that while this is indeed so, common villagers don't care all that much about the deep practices of Achur faith and they think worshiping the spirits or old gods in the statues is a good deed. But in fact, the statues are just symbols, for example to pay tribute to wise men of the past who taught about the truth. They can be like images of a loved one you keep near and can look at to bring back memories. The monks don't worship them and know they cannot reach the truth by worshiping them. They use them in their rites to remember teachings and to help focus.

Something similar goes for relics, but they have in addition the property that maybe still something new can be learned from them, so they are treated with even more respect. Our discussion thus turned in a natural way to the topic of the rod of the creator shard they have in the monastery. My mentor will inquire if I may visit it - they are afraid of theft as many pieces held by various monasteries have been stolen and are still missing.

Matins

I am settling in. I have been housed in a very comfortable wooden cabin, with all amenities I could wish for. It has a deck with a magnificent view over the mountains, towards the lake that sometimes can be seen in the distance. The view lends itself to sitting down and meditating. I realize this cabin is a privileged lodge for pilgrims, and even though I marvel at the view a regular cell would have suited me just as well.

The day starts with matins. The monks gather at the temple and chant in front of their idols and relics. One of the monks, a man with the build of a tall wardrobe, beats a drum. The rhythm is rather fast, two beats per second. The others chant one syllable per drumbeat. From time to time - I haven't been able to discern a pattern- another monk strikes a cymbal. I been given a hand missal, but it is a translation so I cannot chant along, just listen. In addition, I am not sure it would be proper for me to do so. There are villagers and visitors attending the morning chanting - I have not seen many during the other hours.

After this morning liturgy, we have breakfast porridge. It is the only meal of the day that is not taken in the refectory, but in the public hall of the temple. Each monk sits at a table with one villager family or visitor group and they eat the breakfast porridge together. This is the occasion for the visitors to talk to the monks, to tell them their stories and plights and to ask for prayers.

Achur that have problems with their eyes visit this particular monastery, many come from far away to place offerings and pray in front of the statuettes of the eye idol. The monks give them a flask with which they can scoop up water from the temple source, as this water is said to have healing powers for eyesight troubles.  

I take breakfast with my mentor, master Drellken. We talk about our faiths and rites. I haven't yet brought up my main question - my request to see the piece of the rod of the creator that they keep in the inner temple.

The stairway of a thousand steps

I slept like a log last night, tired, but in a good way. So, I shall finish yesterday's story. 

I arrived at the stone lantern in the late afternoon. A monk was there, I do not know if he was waiting for me or if they saw me coming and had sent him down. Their clothing is simpler than our robes, and I did not see any signs of body augmentations. Next to the lantern was the start of a stone stairway that led up into the forest on the mountain slope.

My monastic colleague told me that this is the staircase of the thousand steps, and it is the entrance to the Monastery of the Seeing Blind at the top of the mountain. My courage sank at the prospect of having to climb it. I was starting to feel the exhaustion of the walk in the heat. But he insisted this was the proper way to go the monastery. 

He had some duties still at the lantern, but would come up later and rejoin me. I started the climb. To my surprise, the stairs were not well maintained, there are stretches were the stones are broken up and scattered, and this makes the ascension difficult. I wondered if the monastery would ever get visitors. There were also snakes in the cracks between the stones, so I had to tread carefully, which hampered the climb. I had to stop several times, to catch my breath and drink the last sips of my water. 

There's this compulsive thing I do - counting the steps of stairs. In this case, thousand. It's hard to stay focused, but usually I am within a few steps of the actual correct number. Here, I counted two thousand two hundred and fifty five. "Thousand steps", a figure of speech, indeed. Dusk was falling but the heat was sweltering by now. There was no breeze and the air was humid, despite being in the mountains.

After great effort, I arrived at the top of the staircase, at the entrance to the monastery. There was a water well nearby, and several peasants and monks. Also the monk I had met at the bottom was there. I hadn't seen anyone else on the staircase, and he never passed me, so I asked him how he got there. 

He said he just took his ground transportation vehicle along the road a little bit farther from where the stairs started, it leads to the parking lot of the monastery. I was dumbfounded - "But, wasn't this the proper way to enter the monastery? You told me so yourself!". He answered, as if he was talking to a kid, as if it had been plain and obvious: "Yes, proper way for you. Not for me, I live here."

I was parched so I wanted to drink from the well, which was equipped with a row of cups on a long stick. But I was not allowed to drink yet: the well is meant for ablution, you scoop up water and rinse your hands and arms. Actually, the cold water flowing over my arms gave relief from the heat.

After that, I was given water to drink and brought to my lodgings, where, as you already know, I fell asleep shortly after.