My parents never quite understood why or how I would choose to live in the Empire for any extended period of time. Born and raised in the heart of the Federation, just a short shuttle ride from the gleaming Crystal Boulevard in the heart of Caille, they couldn’t understand how I could subject myself to the Empire’s conservative views. Now that’s not to say I don’t have my reasons. Anyone with any familiarity with my background would be familiar with my desire to stay close to the Eve Gate, if only so I could also occasionally check on the status of Sansha’s Violent Wormhole in Promised Land. And being only a few jumps out from Amarr Prime while still reaping the rewards of low security space certainly helps as well. And the fact that the Empire wouldn’t dare lay any of its religious strictures on capsuleers. They just happened to not particularly care about my reasons, and complain to me to move back whenever they sent me a communique.
Oddly, they seemed much more concerned that I lived in Amarr space than that I lived in low security space. I always assumed that was because they didn’t quite understand the differences between high security and low security space, and as long as they weren’t planning on flying out this way themselves, I had no desire to educate them on the subject. What they don’t know can’t hurt them… unless they decide to surprise me with a visit and get blown up in Ami by a few pirates. But that’s a discussion for another time with them.All this is to say that they were thrilled when I moved back to Gallente space, albeit temporarily. I had a mystery to solve, you see, and I’ve been moving more and more assets into Iyen-Oursta in an attempt to solve it. Being fairly secure money-wise for the foreseeable future, I uprooted the necessary ships and my parents were thrilled with the news.
Of course, they were less thrilled when I said that I was leaving again. Not for any extended length of time, of course, but I had caught wind of an Imperial military base in null security space, deep in Catch, and of course I had to go check it out. So I pulled out my trusty Tengu Scientia and was on my way to HY-RWO. As I warped in, Aura kindly gave me a heads up:
Local rumor has it that an Amarr Empire strike force has appeared in HY-RWO and are secretly orbiting one of it’s planets. Whoever they are after, he must be someone important.
Now, I don’t really consider myself a fancy person. I usually take “secretly” to mean “we won’t broadcast it for all to see,” at the very least. But apparently the Amarr Empire and I share very different ideas of the meaning of that word. Indeed, the Amarr were even kind enough to put up a beacon for Aura to lock on to for warp. Subtle, the Empire is not.
Still, given that I was deep in capsuleer-controlled space, I dare not test the Amarrian resolve by uncloaking in their midst. As such, I was relegated, as I usually am, to observing without interacting. Precisely why the Amarr were here, given Aura’s cryptic message, wasn’t entirely clear, but their base of operations around planet 3, moon 1 was apparently the place to be in HY-RWO. The Amarr had a sizeable military force here, consisting primarily of battleships and accompanying frigates. All glowed red to me and I shuddered to think just how quickly Scientia would die should the Amarr become aware of my presence. She was a ship built for reconnaissance and exploration, not combat, and she would fall quickly should she ever be caught.
The ships milled around. I suppose the Amarr would say they were engaging in military maneuvers, but frankly that seemed to be giving “maneuvers” a bad name. Still, they managed a modicum of competency by not crashing into each other as they all hugged the compact and movable lookout tower that served as their forward military base here. The battleships hugged close to the tower, while the frigates scurried around edges. At a distance, a Bestower-class transport, presumably the ship that brought the lookout tower and its accompanying necessities, sat and calmly watched over the area. Oddly enough, if I was reading the comm traffic here correctly, the local military commander has made the Bestower his flagship.
I sat and observed for a few minutes before gearing up to head back to Federation space and the mysteries that await me there. It was soothing watching the ships pass in front of the brilliantly blue star of HY-RWO when the camera drones were positioned just right. But I had more important demands on my time. That mysterious blue cloud wasn’t going to create itself, apparently…
- Attraction: Amarr Military Brigade
- System: HY-RWO
- Security Rating: 0.0
- Region: Catch
- Potential Hazards: HY-RWO is deep in 0.0 space, involving jumps across a number of different alliance territories, many of which may be operating under “Not Blue, Shoot It” protocol. Gate camps (including warp interdiction bubbles) can be found often in transitioning from 0.0 to high security space, as well as on other gates. Caution is advised.
I looked up from my datapad. I had been sitting at the local station bar, sipping a few ales while finishing up some paperwork. For being the sole owner of a corporation, it was remarkable indeed how much red tape CONCORD made you wade through. In front of me stood a person I would rather charitably call ‘weathered.’ Scars covered almost every visible inch of skin, and tattoos covered the others. His face was sharp and angular, and his eyes had an unsettling coldness to them. In what is perhaps the greatest indictment of CONCORD paperwork, the prospect of chatting to this fellow was still more enticing than continuing the trudge of paperwork. I slowly put the datapad down.
“Can I, uhh, help you?”
“I was actually wondering if I could help you.”
My eyebrow quirked at that. The man in front of me was clearly no capsuleer, and although I still considered myself rather down-to-earth (for a capsuleer, at least) I was surprised at the brazen attitude of this man. Rare indeed did the unenhanced masses feel like they could offer a capsuleer something without prompting. Without waiting for a reply on my part, the man saddled up on the stool next to mine.
“I’ve seen you around here before. Without fail, you have appeared bored. Bored bored bored bored bored.”
I didn’t immediately respond. It was true that as of late I had been feeling rather… blasé about capsuleer life. Despite the wonders of the galaxy around me, I had become rather aware of the fact that they didn’t excite me quite like they used to. I had sometimes toyed with trying another profession, but had never quite gotten past the ‘idle thoughts’ phase of planning. After a few rather awkward moments wondering just why this man has been spying on me, I softly responded.
“And your point?”
“My point is, I have an offer for you. Something to spice things up.”
With that, he got up, leaving his own datapad behind. I reached over to give it to him, but noticed that he had left it on with a simple set of coordinates listed. I quickly transfer them to my own pad. I then try to dive back into the drudgery of paperwork, but found myself even less able to concentrate than before. I quickly close out my tabs before heading back to my station suite. Pretending like I didn’t already know what I was going to do, I puttered around for about an hour or so. I tried watching the viewscreen, I tried chatting to a few friends over galnet. Eventually, however, I found myself outfitting Professor Science to be undocked. The coordinates were, somewhat unexpectedly, for Taisy. Taisy’s largest claim to fame was the rather infamous Kyonoke Pit, the site of a deadly disease outbreak. I hoped that I didn’t just agree to become patient zero.
I quickly installed myself into Professor Science and undocked. The way to Taisy was fairly quiet; I felt my eyes glazing over a bit as I warped, jumped, and repeated ad nauseum. Perhaps another symptom of the tedium I’ve been feeling lately. Still, I made it to Taisy without problem.
I put in the coordinates, and was relieved to see that I would be nowhere close to Kyonoke Pit. Instead, what flew into view before me was an extensive, but rather run-down, mining colony. The main colony, built into an arc-shaped asteroid, had definitely seen better days. Surrounding the asteroid was a cloud of debris, mostly consisting of old mining equipment and parts of ships that had apparently just fallen off. I still wasn’t quite sure what to expect, but I quickly received a hail from a nearby Gila. My friend from the bar appeared on the comms.
With a certain smugness in his tone, happy that I had shown up undoubtedly, he explained that he was a recruiter for the Guristas, and then proceeded to explain to me what the Guristas were, as if I wasn’t aware of one of the most notorious pirate factions in New Eden. He finished with a little speech.
“You’re bored of life. I get that. I’m offering you a choice here, Mark. You can continue your dreary existence, or we could let you loose. Embrace your inner pirate. Cause some destruction for the sake of causing destruction. Let me know.” With that, he closed the comms window.
I have to admit that I was surprised by how tempted by the offer I was. Perhaps becoming a capsuleer was finally getting to me: the thought of causing destruction and wreaking havoc appealed to a part of me. Still, I wasn’t about to join Fatal and the Rabbit in their schemes, whatever they were. Deep down, in my heart of hearts, I would always be a carebear. And I was fine with that. There were other ways to spice up my life without wanton destruction. As I set a course away from this recruitment center, without another word to my contact, I resolved to figure out just what these other ways were.
- Attraction: Guristas Recruitment Center
- System: Taisy
- Security Rating: 0.3
- Region: Lonetrek
- Potential Hazards: Taisy is located in low security space. Pirates and gate camps should be expected, and caution is advised. A cov ops or other cloaking ship is recommended.
For the remarkable freedom that capsuleers enjoy from most state-imposed laws in terms of fraud, murder, and general scumminess, we also have to put up with a significant amount of surveillance. Oh, they don’t mention it much, of course, but the space lanes throughout New Eden are thick with the tendrils that CONCORD sends out to make sure we’re staying in line. How else do they know instantaneously when one capsuleer is attacking another without justification, even outside of high security space? Be it our wallet or our in-ship comms systems, few things in a pilot’s life are safe from CONCORD oversight. In order to pull something like that off, a truly massive surveillance network needs to be set up, often hidden from the prying eyes of us capsuleers to keep us from its secrets.
Of course, one of these surveillance posts was bound to be found at some point. Surprisingly enough, capsuleers were not the ones to find it. Rather, the Angels found a surveillance site (capsuleer pilots are by no means the only ones on CONCORD’s watch lists) and acted quickly to take it out. In remembrance to one of the agents presumed lost in the attack, CONCORD made the site a public memorial, and perhaps more importantly, gives us pilots a sneak peek at just what kind of systems CONCORD uses to keep a watchful, if not always particularly reactive, eye on the cluster. The memorial can be found in Arnher, a low sec system a few jumps out from Hek in Metropolis. As I approached the site, ever-helpful Aura pulled up the limited information from the local ‘nets that she could:
Containing equipment used by the CRC to monitor and intercept radio, wireless and fluid router transmissions, the DED believe that the site was attacked after intercepting encrypted data broadcasted to Angel Cartel headquarters from a scouting party in Evati.
The CRC operator of this site, codenamed “Eshtir”, has vanished without trace and is now reportedly on the run from Dominations forces, whom have placed a sizeable bounty on his head.
Compared to some of the other covert reconnaissance sites I’ve seen, the CONCORD site is surprisingly simple in design, though I suppose it’s fair to assume that CONCORD probably did a bit of cleanup work and got rid of all the real goodies before broadcasting its existence to anyone in the system. Still, I was expecting a bit more than just a receiver array and a power/shield generator in terms of equipment (and don’t even ask me how an antenna is supposed intercept fluid-router transmissions, but I suppose that is yet another CONCORD mystery™). But if it works for them – and from all indications, it does – who am I to argue?
The only other notable item at the site was the remains of a Raven-class battleship; apparently, the one that Eshtir was on at the time of the attack. My scans didn’t shed any light as to Eshtir’s fate, but I wish him luck nonetheless. The Angels are relentless hunters; if anyone is capable of finding Eshtir now, it’d undoubtedly be them.
After a few minutes at the site, it was time for me to move on. New sights beckoned, even if they were coming fewer and fewer these days. Still, if there’s anything I’ve learned about New Eden in these past years, it’s that it’s always full of surprises. You just have to know where to look.
- Attraction: Abandoned CRC Monitoring Station
- System: Arnher
- Security Rating: 0.2
- Region: Metropolis
- Potential Hazards: Arnher is located in low security space. Pirates and gate camps should be expected, and caution is advised. A cov ops or other cloaking ship is recommended.
Yes, I’ve been a terrible blogger lately. TO BE FAIR, though, the past week or two has been dedicated to FINALLY pushing out version 2.0 of the Lore Survival Guide, and I’m delighted to announce that it is finally up in PDF format! Please feel free to send me any questions, comments, or concerns you may have.
You can find a plain text version, a version with pretty pictures, or a version that shows the changes from version 1.5.1.
Industry is a mystery to me. There, I said it. Oh, sure, I get the broad concept: gather the components, get a guide to put those components together, push button, receive
bacon ship (or module, or ammo, or…). But, as always, the devil is in the details. Even just a glimpse of some of the data that serious manufacturers must wade through in order to make a profit gives me a headache. I’m not one of those people who thinks that mining an asteroid will give me the ore for “free”, but asking me to value those items will often result in a blank stare and, if we’re lucky, a number of some kind. But this is not to say that I have a deep appreciation for manufacturers. It might all be gobbledygook to me, but that gobbledygook results in almost anything that I may ever need while flying around New Eden. I simply don’t understand it, and I accept that I don’t understand it. More power to those that do.
Although industry is a mystery, that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate its beauty. Nowhere is that more apparent to me than a bustling shipyard. There is a special energy here; one that you can only find in the throes of creation and skill. From skeletal hulls to nearly complete space vessels, it’s fascinating to watch a ship grow from the bottom up. Everyone you talk to takes a special pride in their work. And how could they not? Spending so much time and passion on a hull imbues it with part of their own energy. I’ve heard of some people calling their ships their children, and I have no doubt that they actually view it as such. Even if the vast majority of the vessels produced are doomed to be destroyed, that doesn’t mean that workers won’t put in as much care as they can to ensure the vessels go down fighting.
A small Caldari Navy shipyard can be found in Astoh. It’s not a particularly strategic system, but with the ongoing fighting in Black Rise, it’s undoubtedly seen its share of fights. Aura has little to say on the subject, noting only this:
This small compound acts as a fleet staging point, relaying squads off to their deployment locations inside Black Rise or housing them on their way back to State heartlands. Various Caldari Navy officials make this place their temporary home, and Astoh itself is rumored to house some of the higher-ranked officers involved in daily operations across the war-torn region.
The shipyard itself is fairly small in size, but bustling nonetheless. Seven drydocks comprised the bulk of the site, with ships in varying stages of completion. Unlike some of the other shipyards I’ve seen recently, the Astoh yard seemed to specialize in subcapital vessels. A few Caracal-class cruisers and as well as a Scorpion-class battleship or two were under construction at the time I visited. Some were barely recognizable, either undergoing heavy repairs or just starting out as little more than a keel. Others were clearly nearing completion, with drones and various workers scurrying around its exterior. Each of the drydocks had attendant facilities attached, acting as worker housing and support, protection, entertainment, and all the other facilities necessary for this small city in space.
Beyond the drydocks themselves, the Caldari Navy had send some serious protection to protect the workers and the facilities here. A number of cruisers and frigates scurried about, patrolling the outer edges of the shipyards against all intruders (though, oddly, not giving me a second glance). A few battleships also lumbered about. But the best indication that the Caldari considered this site one of significant strategic value was the Chimera-class carrier that acted as the flag vessel of the fleet. Sitting in the middle of the shipyard, like a mother hen guarding her chicks, the carrier kept a watchful eye over all other activity in the shipyards and beyond. Always a bold one, I flew Professor Science right up to its hull, as always goggling at just how much capital ships dwarfed my little ship.
A small distance off from the main facilities sat an old, drifting wreck. Perhaps the old station, with attendant-and-still-sparking Quafe sign, indicated a different past for this particular deadspace pocket. But given the severe deterioration of the station, the past has very much been left behind. Oddly, the few remains of station superstructure look almost Gallente in origin. The graceful curves and organic feel was distinctly non-Caldari in design. But a Gallente station in Black Rise, particularly an old and decrepit one, made little sense given that Black Rises was only disclosed to the rest of the Cluster (including the Gallente) only a few short years ago. The station remains certainly raised a number of questions, but as is often the case, this seemed to be a mystery that I would not solve any time soon.
I stayed at the site for quite a while, watching the ebb and flow of the workers, machines, and security vessels as they all worked together to create and build these gorgeous ships that we fly every day. Although these ships were to be used by the Caldari Navy, an entity that does not exactly have my best interests at heart, I still admired the sense of professionalism and efficiency I saw in the shipyards. The carrier at the heart of the shipyards was a truly stunning vessel; I was reminded again of the odd beauty that Caldari ships had, even if it was not a design that I would have thought of. In fact, I seemed to have an odd fondness for Caldari aesthetics: despite being a proud Gallente citizen, almost of my ships (and certainly the ships that I flew most often) were Caldari in origin, suggesting that the odd asymmetries and harsh edges appealed to me in an almost visceral manner.
Finally, I banked the Professor on an exit vector. As the warp tunnel formed around me, I was once again amazed at the thought and design that had to go into building even one of these vessels. I have absolutely no idea how people are able to juggle this on a day-to-day basis, but I guess that’s why no one pays me to.
- Attraction: Caldari Navy Relay Nexus
- System: Astoh
- Security Rating: 0.6
- Region: Black Rise
- Potential Hazards: If you’re below a -4 in security status, or -5 standing with the Caldari you’ll have to deal with some rather unpleasant policemen.
The universe just isn’t fair sometimes. If the universe knows anything about me, it’s that I live for the visuals. I am willing, happy even, to travel for hours on end, risking ship and limb, to see something and write about it so others don’t have to. I pride myself on careful research on sites, so I can offer informed explanations, giving both context and meaning to the sights that I see. I work hard for what I do, and it’s all for the sake of that one shining moment, that first time the view clarifies in front of me coming out of warp. That sense of wonder as I see something for the first time. Sometimes, if I’m lucky, I know what to expect. But other times, I’m going into the true unknown, which makes that first sight all the more thrilling. With all of this in mind, you would think some sense of cosmic karma ought to be working in my favor.
But no, of course not. I forgot for a split second that I was in New Eden and that the laws of the universe were tipped very much against me.
The story here begins in Iyen-Oursta. It’s a rather unassuming system on the Gallente-Caldari border, a front often forgotten given that Algogille and Luminaire are already so close to the border, and thus bear the brunt of any defensive and offensive posturing. I’ve flown through it many times, and have even flown over just to enjoy watching the Roden Shipyards in system build up its fleet of Megathrons.
Early on in my career as a capsuleer, I came across reports of something called the “Children of Light.” Reports were few, but fairly straightforward. There had been reports in the past of clouds of light converging on the gate at activation. The scientific consensus seemed to be that the discharge was most likely due to some kind of plasma leak that, in certain conditions, formed a resonance with the jumping ship, briefly charging the surrounding plasma. There were a few more, shall we say, unscientific hypotheses, but I brushed those aside. Eagerly, however, I put Iyen-Oursta near the top of my list of places to visit. Being based in Gallente space at the time, it was practically a hop, skip, and a jump away.
When I got there, I had to admit a certain amount of disappointment. The gate, while a gorgeous example of Gallente architecture, showed no signs of these so-called children. There’s a small beacon a few kilometers off the gate, blinking in rather dull fashion, that dutifully broadcasts “Children of Light” to anyone in system, but Aura is oddly silent on the subject, offering absolutely none of her usual commentary. But I brushed off my disappointment: this was far from the first time that a hoped-for view had fallen through (Atioth, I’m looking in your direction), and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. And besides, I had managed to find the aforementioned Roden Shipyards on the visit, so it wasn’t a complete loss. I made a mental note that this particular clue was a bust, and carried on my merry way.
I’ve passed through the system countless times since then. As I jump in, my heart momentarily jumps as I see an unexpected beacon on my overview, and then as I read what it is, a twinge of disappointment again sets in. But I’ve learned to brush that aside as one of many things that are simply legends. Ghosts of stories from long ago.
Or so I thought.
I was contacted out of the blue a few days ago by a pilot named Jon Tarant. I was over in Pure Blind on an unrelated research project, and was in the process of making my way through the never-ending piles of paperwork that always seem to appear whenever coordinating more than one or two people comes in to play. The unfamiliar name immediately piqued my interest. Jon initially asks me if I had ever heard of the Children of Light. I chuckled mirthlessly to myself, that twinge of disappointment once again tickling my brain. I replied that I was. Then he told me that he thought he had seen it. And not only that, but that he had a picture. Immediately, my eyebrows raised. My other projects were immediately forgotten. Before he had my curiosity, but now he had my attention.
I immediately asked if I could see his photo. He dutifully obliged. It was not in the best resolution, and was clearly taken on the fly (pun intended). Having only just recently upgraded my own camera drones, I was able to sympathize. But the view itself. The view itself was astounding. The gate was immersed in a haunting blue glow. Tendrils of light went every which way, creating a complex lattice of light. I could see where the name “Iyen Pixies” had come from. Even from that image, I thought it was absolutely gorgeous.
I hounded any and all details out of Jon, who happily obliged with what he was able to recall. I grilled him on his ship (Taranis) the date (March 10 YC 115), whether he was with anyone (a few in local). He said he had asked around the locals to see if anyone else had run into this effect. They all said no. He had a friend a few jumps behind him, also on his way through Iyen-Oursta. Jon asked his friend if he had seen the lights, the friend responded there was nothing on the gate. He had apparently filed away the information, and only when he happened across EVE Travel did he think to reach out to me regarding this discovery.
I immediately ran over to Iyen-Oursta myself. Once again, I was presented with empty space beyond the gate itself, a few Gallente customs officials, and that accursed beacon with its steady blink blink blink, almost mocking me. No lights. No lattice. No children of light.
Even now, I write this safely from the station in Iyen-Oursta. I have no doubt I will spend a bit of time here, trying to see if I can pull off what Jon saw. I have the means and willpower to test different approach angles, different ships, and other variables to see if I can trigger the Children, now that I know that they can be triggered. And that’s the key. Knowing that there was something out there to see. I had been lulled into a false sense of security, confident in my ability to root out anything that was hidden. I had grown overconfident. But this, this changes everything. Suddenly, the universe was new again. What else had I missed? What else had I brushed aside as unseeable? Sometimes it takes an extra set of eyes to remind you that one person alone can’t see everything out there.
After all, sometimes the universe simply isn’t fair.
- Attraction: Roden Center
- System: Iyen-Oursta
- Security Rating: 0.8
- Region: Sinq Laison
- Potential Hazards: If you’re below a -3 in security status, or -5 standing with the Gallente, you’ll have to deal with some rather unpleasant policemen.
- Additional Notes: Obviously, I haven’t confirmed this myself yet. I suspect that triggering the Children is simply a matter of chance (very very very very low chance). I’ve tried warp-ins from every celestial to no avail. If anyone else has a sighting of the Children, or any other info, please leave a comment here or message me. This is by far one of the more mysterious sights I’ve encountered in the game, and I find it fascinating!
It’s easy to think that contemporary events are gamechangers. How many times have we heard some crisis as the “defining moment” of Roden’s presidency, or any battle as a “tipping point” in a broader war? And when you look back a few months or years later, you see that these events were nothing of the sort. It’s natural to think that the most recent events are the most important. But in most cases, events – even ones that at the time seem monumentally important (pun is very much intended) – are mere drops in the ocean of human history. It is rare indeed that an event actually bends the course of human events. It’s almost impossible for most people to objectively determine the effects that any one incident will have until we’ve had a chance to move on. In fact, it’s precisely that reason that most historians try not to look at modern events that closely, until time has passed, passions have cooled, and the repercussions have made themselves more verifiably known, leaving it to the more pedestrian punditry to give the who, what, where, and why of modern events.
Even with all of this in mind, I find it hard to look back at the now infamous battle in B-R5BR and see it as anything short of historic. This was not the first time that a capsuleer alliance had neglected to pay its bills to CONCORD, nor was it the first time that a tiny mistake led to a massive battle. The battle of B-R5RB doesn’t even come close to the record of largest naval engagement. Both Pandemic Legion and the CFC have fielded more ships in a battle and more pilots have lost ships before. But what makes this battle different, beyond the sheer amount of isk lost, is the effect it has had on the general public. Never before has the general public’s imagination been captured so much as the day that the titans began to fall. While there have always been niche news sites dedicated to covering capsuleer goings on, for the first time, mainstream media have started to look to the skies. New pilots are flocking to capsuleer training centers in record numbers, flooding the spacelanes with new opportunities and new fodder alike.
CONCORD, to its credit, has moved quickly to memorialize the battle site. Within days, the often slow-acting agency declared the system a place of historic significance, and acted to preserve the wrecks so they don’t decay away in the harshness of space. What’s left is a stunning, haunting (or, should I say spooky?) tribute to this very literal clash of the titans. To some, it’s a tribute to the victory of the CFC; to others, it’s the gravesite to thousands, if not hundreds of thousands of crew aboard the various ships. Whatever its meaning to you, this heretofore unknown cul-de-sac system has attained a new place of prominence in the interstellar consciousness, and its newfound memorial will ensure that it remains so long after the pundits have stopped their prognosticating on its meaning. Of course, the quieting of the punditry won’t keep Aura from becoming rather existentialist on us:
You are entering the graveyard of Titans, a silent memorial to one of the grandest, most violent, most cataclysmic battles New Eden has ever borne witness to. Halt your ship, capsuleer, and take a moment out of the mad swirl of your life to ponder your own impending deaths.
The beacon that CONCORD has placed on the site is a bit more on-point and a bit less poetic than Aura:
Here lie the wrecks of monstrous ships, commemorating a battle that blotted out the sky on Jan 27-28 in YC 116.
Two coalitions of capsuleers clashed in vessels numbering in the thousands, causing destruction on a scale of war never before seen by human eyes. CONCORD elected – after advising with the various empires – to leave a few wrecks left on the field for all spacefarers to see. Ostensibly this was a warning of capsuleers to where their folly would lead them, but those who’ve encountered the immortals will know it was more likely taken as an ideal of death and destruction to which they can aspire from now until the end of time.
As your view adjusts after warping through B-R5RB VIII, one of the first things you’ll notice is the bright gray of the temple that CONCORD’s erected on the site (why the temple is already battered-looking and worn is another discussion entirely). Examining the temple closely will reveal a list of all the pilots that lost a Titan in the battle. As your eyes adjust, however, you’ll notice a number of hulking, looming shadows surrounding on all sides. These shadows eventually clarify into the hulking shapes of shattered ships. Surrounding you are ships from all four empires, torn apart by the massive forces brought down upon them in the battle. Fires still glow from the interior, and possibly will continue to do so for years (especially if the ships were Caldari built). Each wreck is surrounded by a cloud of debris, which is especially dense near the site of the hull fractures where these gigantic ships finally cracked. Each of them dwarfed Scientia and its small crew.
To the left, ships blot out an appropriately blood-red star. To the right, now-nameless titan wrecks, worth billions of isk and with thousands of lives lost on each of them, gently tumble through space against the green backdrop of the Immensea nebula. And all around, there is an eerie quiet. The stark stillness of the scene stands in sharp contrast to the ferocity of the battle that took place here just days before.
Am I wrong to think that this battle was different from the countless others that have happened over the years in New Eden? Have even my amateur historian’s eyes been clouded by the media coverage and the endless echo chamber that has come out of this battle? After all, this will hardly be the last time that B-R5RB will change hands. PL has already finished reimbursing its pilots for the ships lost in the battle. Other battles will rage, breaking this record or that. Only time will tell of the grander effect, if any, of this battle. But for now, for once, more eyes are focused on the stars. For now, the happenings of New Eden are drawing the attention of the broader masses. And for now, at least, B-R5RB certainly seems like a gamechanger. And even if it isn’t, at least this monument will help us remember the day that the titans fell.
- Attraction: Titanomachy
- System: B-R5RB
- Security Rating: 0.0
- Region: Immensea
- Potential Hazards: B-R5RB is deep in 0.0 space, involving jumps across a number of different alliance territories, many of which may be operating under “Not Blue, Shoot It” protocol. Gate camps (including warp interdiction bubbles) can be found often in transitioning from 0.0 to high security space, as well as on other gates. Caution is advised.