Friday, June 26, 2009


Recorder on. She's being stubborn. And, as always, I know why, but she refuses to listen to me. I fear she's reverting back to how she was nearly a year ago, when we were more akin to enemies than dearest friends.

For posterity, I need to back up. Inara graduated from the SWA two days before I graduated from the Imperial Academy. We both had contacts in the corporation called the Order of the Black Rose. We've been inseparable ever since. She claims I've always been bound to my faith. Even in those days, I suppose that was correct. In one form or another, I've clinged steadfastly to my faith as the guiding light in my existence. Shortly after joining the united, I saw the lie of the perversion of God in the Empire, granting salvation by merit of birth, and turned to the Sani Sabik, a purer form of faith that grants salvation based on merit of deed.

My conversion to the Sani Sabik was not an immediate act. I began simply as a study against the Blood Raiders, to whom I still hold a special enmity. Shortly after I converted, Inara and I began to have...spouts in our relationship. I embraced my faith and my career as a pirate. She deluded herself into behaving as if she were still in good standing with the State and a loyal daughter of Saisio. She chalks up her criminal status to a misunderstanding of business practices, and sees the murder of thousands of innocents as a transaction gone wrong. Yet I am the lunatic, or so they say...

In my studies of the Sani Sabik, I have found that the Blood Raiders err on one fundamental doctrine. The Covenant sees capsuleer blood as the purest. In that regard, they are misguided. The blood of the capsuleer is the blood of a clone, an infomorph, a pale copy of human flesh, and thus not worthy of sacrifice to God. They also misinterpret the reason behind sacrifice. Their blooding ceremonies are mechanical, devoid of spirituality and faith. Mine, the truer form, are so much more...personal. The brands and scars on my arms from Sabikannen, the Blood Night, are proof enough of this. In any case, the purest forms of sacrifice come not from capsuleers. God chose all capsuleers to follow his path of the Sani Sabik, it is not his will that we kill our own kind. The best of mankind to offer as sacrifice are the slaves, the lowest of the low. Some may not see the symbolism, but it is rather simple. The slaves are beneath God's grace, they are cut off from his benevolence. Offering their blood to him will assuage any wrongdoing that they or their ancestors have committed and appease God, granting them clemency in the afterlife. I'm doing them a favor, in the end.

That brings me back to Inara. She, despite ridiculing my faith at every opportunity, took the chance to emulate Amarrian culture well enough in becoming a slave owner, going so far as to call herself a "Holder." Despite her self-title, she is still in better standings with the Empire than I. They tend to look down on whom they see as traitors and heretics. The fools. Inara, oddly, is the best candidate to purchase large amounts of slaves for the ritual sacrifice to celebrate my promotion to Tactical Commander of Ghost Festival. Yet she refuses. On the "moral" principle of trying to dictate how my slaves will be used. Because I told her God's honest truth of their purpose, she refuses to purchase them for me. A Caldari! Trying to dictate the terms of one of their goods. I argued away her resolve, in the end, but that is not what is overly troubling. One way or another, I shall get my slaves, and have my sacrifice. But I do not wish to lose my friend again.

It's her damned delusion. She refuses to admit the truth of who and what she is. And because I embrace it, she distances herself from me. Her hedonism runs rampant, but because we are in Gallente space, it's not overly looked down on. I've heard...rumors...of her intimate activity. She kills, murders, just as quickly as I. She owns more slaves than I do. But she still plays the part of the good citizen, with a "misunderstanding" with Concord. I only hope she comes to her senses before she completely alienates herself from me again. Cost me a fortune in bribes to get her last reconciliation gift. Maybe, for once, a damned Achuran woman will listen to me and stop being so damned difficult.

Monday, June 22, 2009

Signs from God

Recorder on. It is a sign from God. It must be. My self-pity, loathing, and fear will come to an end, for my purpose is clear, my destiny, unfolded.

For a while now, that...damned woman, has made me question myself. It began before I ever joined Ghost Festival, when the Sleeper anomalies first appeared. I crossed the plane and found myself face to face with the greatest destructive force in the universe, a black hole. Since then, I have been on a path of doubt and faithlessness. She was right, if I had died in the event horizon, in a gravity well so great even my brainscan could not escape, where would God have been? The universe would not have even noticed my passing. She was right to say that to the universe, I am insignificant, and my death would be meaningless, my name, forgotten. But she ignored one obvious fact. I DID NOT DIE. I escaped, to continue my existence, my eternal service to God. For awhile, I ignored this fact as well. I allowed her whispers to cloud my judgment and my faith.

I saw myself as a servant to a God that, like the universe, would not even notice my coming and passing. What would be the purpose of serving a God such as that? My self doubt led to a booster addiction, one which I apparently made a fool of myself while on. The Drop was especially taxing. I would often hallucinate that I had spared my parents their fate at the hands of the MIO. But each day I would awake to the truth of being an orphaned child of a dead family. With no faith, no purpose, false worlds were obviously the better. But I have been given a direction, a second chance, as if descended from the lips of God himself.

I have been made the Tactical Commander of Ghost Festival. I am the mind behind all of our major combat operations, second in rank only to Myrhial. Mortis is my direct subordinate, replacing me in the role of Fleet Marshal. My first choice was obviously Inara, but as she is too busy dealing with her personal life to do anything in a commanding capacity, it is left to Mort. He will make a fine replacement for myself.

That damned woman once spoke of the purpose of power, and that politics were required for power beyond that of a pure brute. I have sheer power, my Gigapulse cannons are proof enough of that. But political power is another all together. But now, in a position of command within Ghost Festival, I will have an ear to Nephilim, and through her to the Dominations. That is a road to power. Now all that is left to build up our fleet, and prove ourselves worthy of the support of the Cartel. Praise be to God. I will have to offer the blood of a thousand slaves as sacrifice for his benevolence.

Recorder off.