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Mathias Sinistar

July 2008 - Posts

  • The Many Masks of Mathias: Chapter 1: Space Truckin', and the Beginning's of a Low Sec Resident

    After the elevator ride however, my rise to the top of anything else but meteoric. My dreams of stars made of pure mercoxit, and battleships lying around to be boarded were... highly exaggerated. Instead, I found myself looking at what little isk I had scrounged together from my required service in the Republic Fleet in horror. My horror was overcome rather quickly though, and just as quickly I got myself a Hoarder, christening it Zorndyke after a character I had seen in one of the animated series they had in the holoreel archives back home, and began my life as a small time hauler. With my new rust colored space truck, I became very... very familiar with the whirring noise and nauseating sensation of jump gate travel. Hauling bits of robotics from Jita to Dodixie for a few million isk sounded good at the time, especially for a Matari who had been used to paying only about a few thousand isk a month for meals. However, pretty soon, something would change my perception of that entirely, and would end up becoming the second of many masks I've worn.

     A short while into my hauling career, and I had already become sick of it. Sure, compared to my life planetside I was living the life of a king. But even at two million a day, I was making a paltry sum compared to the price I had to pay to fit and maintain my newfound hunk of bults. A million here for cargo extenders, a million there for the stuff I was going to haul, at the end of the day I was all but squeaking by. I needed a change of pace. And so, I bought a Rifter. A tiny craft, especially in comparison to the Zorndyke, it was a ship fit for one capsuleer pilot, and thats it. No crew to feed, no week long respite's from isk making due to large gashes in the hull, for if it got a gash, it could be fixed with a small repairer and a couple of isk for a cap recharge. A small, easily flyable and easily repairable ship. I named my first Rifter Thor's Hammer after the mystical god of the same name that I had learned a bit about during my schooling. It was a beautiful ship, almost all Rifter's are, and I quickly found myself fitting it out with millions of isk worth of modules and reading all I could about how to fly it. I did missions for the Republic Fleet again, the first time since my required stint. It was beautiful watching my trio of autocannon's rip into the hulls of frigates, tracking disruptor's keeping them from doing more then pinging against my shields.

    Soon enough I found myself loathing the times I had to get my crew back onto the Zorndyke to haul another batch of  Oxygen Isotopes just to pay to charge the capacitors and to perform general repair duties. And one day, I had just had it. I entered into my Rifter one morning instead of my Hoarder, much to the confusion of my crew, and flew off to my first expedition into low security space. Not even sure as to why, I wandered to the gate with a cross of excitement and sheer dread. Even though I had a clone back at the station, my instincts were still warning me against dying with every fiber of their being. Soon enough though, I hailed the jump gate, scrolled through and accepted the canned CONCORD warning that flared up on my HUD, and shot off into the next part of my destiny...

    Posted Jul 22 2008, 12:29 AM by Mathias Sinistar with no comments
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  • The Many Masks of Mathias: Prologue

    Who am I? A question that has plagued the minds and scratched at the souls of people since the dawn of time. A question that has been shouted at the heavens, and held silently in the hearts in equal measure. The most obvious answer is your given name, the most worn mask in the play of life. To that end, I'll introduce myself. I'm Mathias Sinistar, a capsuleer, and a proud Minmatar pilot. I've lived planetside, stationside, ship-side, pod side, and left more then a few of my frozen corpses in the dead vacuum of space. I've made myself comfortably wealthy and uncomfortably poor, I've traded, pirated, mined, and flattered my way through life. Who am I though, truly? What is it that I do and how do I act? Hell if I know, I've worn more masks then most actors, though I plan to dust off as many  of my old ones as I can, and record any freshly minted ones, to place here, for posterity, and possibly for people's enjoyment.

    So where did I come from? What could make a seemingly average Minmatar take to heavens with starry-eyes? Simple really. I came to space for the same reason that many people do, especially those of the Matar. The promise of riches and freedom, a drive that has lead humans into many places, good and bad. But, the best starting place is always the beginning...

    I was born the son of two Sebiestor's. My father used to work as a crew member on Capsuleer's mining vessel, making sure the strip miners were kept in relative repair, and helping pack the ore into the hull of the Hulk, or jettison it, whatever was necessary. Unfortuneatly the Hulk was brutally attacked during a low security mining operation, and was nearly destroyed. While the capsuleer took the time to replace the crew and fix up the mining crew, my father couldn't go on ships again for the rest of his life, instead deciding to settle down in a low security system in Metropolis by the name of Auner. There he met my mother, a cabaret dancer, who had never really been one for commitment. In the end, I was a "happy accident," like many of the sons and daughters in the slums of run down planet in low security space.

     I grew up an anxious child. Listening to my father's tales of space travel, even his tales of the excrutiating duldrum of an average mining operation, I marvelled at what could be up there. Outside of the gravitational pull of this hell hole of a planet, I imagined the stars lined with gold plated mercoxit, every asteroid holding riches beyond my wildest dreams. My father tried to quell these rampant dreams of mine, but every chance I could I snuck off to holovid theaters to watch and rewatch old ISD footage of the Gallente-Caldari War, or the aerial ballet on display in the Alliance Tournaments.

    Eventually, my wildest dreams would be realized. An entourage of the Republic Fleet came to the planetside of Auner for supplies that the nearby space stations didn't have. Foodstuffs mainly. In the meantime, they decided to hold an open recruitment for capsuleer pilots. Apparently, unbeknownst to me, not everyone could become a capsuleer pilot. Anyone with a sound mind and good sense could be a space pilot, sure, but a capsuleer took a specific talent that not many people had. Obviously, my dreams got the better of me. I snuck off, once more without my father's permission, and, at the ripe age of 19, took the Republic Fleet's test... and passed.

     I was ecstatic, obviously .I was going to be a member of the Republic Fleet! I was going to space at last! I was going to shoot at Amarrian's, race through asteroid belts, and make a fortune for me and my family! Course, it didn't really turn out like that, but thats what I was thinking as the thousand some new recruits, not all future capsuleer's, mind you, huddled onto a series of Ground-to-Space craft, and made the first wonderous explosive lift off into a new and awe inspiring world...

    Posted Jul 19 2008, 08:11 PM by Mathias Sinistar with 1 comment(s)
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