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Mathias Sinistar

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...

Published Jul 22 2008, 12:29 AM by Mathias Sinistar
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