Log 05X-2
-Author: Rinas Rylos
-Rank: C.E.O.
-Corporation: Rinas' Raiders
-Date: 117.02.14
Y'know, I'd be lying if I said that there wasn't some serenity to the battlefield. Well, not at the start; I still remember my first few battles and the sheer, unabated chaos that come with them. Didn't help that it wasn't just -my- first battle, no, they decided to field multiple blueberries all at once. Not exactly sure how that seemed like a good investment, because I'll tell you right now that it wasn't. Guns firing wildly out into the air, people calling in vehicles they barely had any idea how to use, not to mention our utter lack of actual experience with the equipment. I mean, sure, it's easy to pull the pin on a grenade in VR, or inject myself with an adrenaline booster to keep my failing body up for a few more minutes, but out in the field? You're scrambling just to keep from dropping your weapon, nevermind following orders or god forbid actually shooting someone. It's all you can do to keep from blowing your own head off, especially as gunfire rages around you, along with gunships, tanks, grenades, etc.
It really doesn't help when you die, since it takes a second for the implant to kick in, and now you're somewhere else and have to reorient yourself to where your allies and enemies are. Honestly, I'm not even sure when I stopped just cowering in a corner; I just remember it kinda...clicking? I guess? One moment I was huddled around my gun, trying not to just lose it and suddenly I quit cowering, took the safety off my auto rifle, and began to check my corners. Immediately got my head blown off by someone on my side, but that's one of the perks of being immortal. It doesn't stick.
But if I'm being honest, that's probably what did me in. Treating it all like clockwork, all mechanical, all routine and instinct doesn't make you a good soldier, and it definitely doesn't make you better off when you're not on the clock. I remember reading accounts from other mercs that just wished they could suck it up on the battlefield, but that's...it doesn't work that way. Either you take it as it comes, or it all comes back to wallop you once everything is over. The pain, the spite, the horror, bottling that shit up just makes it even worse when you do eventually deal with it-And you do, whether you want to or not, sooner or later. The fear is what you have to deal with above everything else, though. Fear makes you miss shots and fumble nanoboosters, makes you dive -at- a grenade instead of away from it because you're too panicked to leap the right way. When you're starting out, fear kills you so much quicker and faster than just about anything your enemy can do to you, and it isn't until you've got it under control that you can actually contribute to a conflict in any meaningful way. I guess it might be different when you're in an actual military, but the, uh, laid-back nature of our industry meant that things like,"orders," and,"a chain of command," were all but total bullshit. Not unless you joined a proper corp, or a legit squad, but...that wasn't really for me. Even back when I had been in a gang, I was such a shit that I'm surprised they didn't try and off my ass sooner. Nothing against cooperation, mind, I watched more than a few squads nearly win entire contracts on their (with some help from me, of course). But at the end of the day, we all went back to our respective apartments and slept in our beds, and I didn't really see camaraderie in faces that were my allies one second and people trying to plant a grenade on my ass the next.
Honestly, I could write until my fingers fell off about the sheer amount of shit happening in any given contract. There's just so much going on in a single battle that it's hard to peg down one specific thing, whether it's the feelings of the soldiers involved, or the logistics of their equipment, or the planning, the execution, the whole conflict at its entirety. And we do this dozens of times a day, shipped all across the stars, loaded down into pods and shot at planets like tiny death machines, which I guess isn't really too far from the truth. At the end of the day, though, we're still people. Just because I get another chance at life every time I die doesn't make getting stabbed any less painful, doesn't make it any less shitty when I miss a shot and an enemy sniper practically takes my fucking head off, it's just... Fuck it, I've made myself depressed. I'm gonna head to bed.
Showing posts with label Relationships. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Relationships. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 16, 2016
Thursday, February 6, 2014
Log 052
Log 052
-Author: Rinas Rylos
-Rank: C.E.O.
-Corporation: Rinas' Raiders (R.R.A.S.)
-Date: 115.08.26.
Today was just not been one of those days. On the battlefield, anyway. Whether it was some jackass with a forge gun figuring out where I've been sniping, some pair of dickheads in tanks rolling up on me while I was running around with my own forge gun, or just dealing with a squad of incredibly persistent motherfuckers all decked out in protogear, it's...today was not my day out there. Still, we've all got times like that, so I can't complain too much. That's what I tell myself, anyway. When your K/D is fucking pathetic it's hard not to bitch out loud about it, but given that I'm being paid to kill people I think that my perspective on things might be a bit skewed.
At any rate, the rest of my day wasn't too bad. Bought a new coffee maker that makes the stuff so fast it might as well just sense when I'm in the mood for the stuff. Construction on a new civilian corridor finished up that let me run past a large window again during my morning exercise, and I apparently was sought out by some disgraced Amarrian bishop who is apparently in exile with his assets frozen. According to the message, for just a small payment I can help him out, and be given a decent share of his ISK when he comes back into power. So in addition to everything else, I also got a great chance to laugh my ass off for a good half-hour. Not just at the obvious scam, but the idea that there was some poor bastard out there who actually fell for this.
The flying space bastards seem to be rather trigger-happy as of late, given that they had yet another giant battle none too long ago. Normally I'd just pass it off as the same shit, different day and all that, but looking at the numbers afterwards, I had to concede that that was a pretty big blowout even for them. 70 trillion ISK in assets? I'm not sure I could imagine a trillion ISK, much less seventy. I can already imagine their market going insane as they try and haul ass to recover everything they've all lost. I'm not sure how it's going insane, I'm a mercenary, not an economist, but I'm betting that actual economists are enjoying watching all the new data and shit flow in or something.
Oh! And apparently my dear little brother now has a certain special someone~ Or that's what I think, anyway. He asked me if I could up the payments back home so we could have a nanny help look after the twins. I told him sure, but he'd have to find one and I'd have to approve of them before I'd go along with the idea. Not about to let some freaky Amarrian zealot or weird Minmatarr guy or gal get paid to watch my siblings. Not without knowing they're sane enough to not murder, eat, or kidnap them, anyway. I know that doesn't sound like much to go on, but in the last few chats we've had he's also mentioned wanting to get out of the house a bit more lately, and I could've -sworn- I saw someone with long, flowing, orange hair flash by the camera last time we had a video chat. Not a one of us has long hair, not even my deadbeat dad, much less orange hair.
Still, that got me thinking about my own, uh...relationship status. Is that what you call it? I dunno. It's kind of hard to really imagine something like a significant other for myself. I know a few other mercs manage relationships with people, but I've not got a fucking clue about how they do it. I literally make a living off murdering people. They come back, yeah, but that still doesn't mean it's something I can just walk away from and pretend like it's the goddamned norm. Finding someone who would not only be alright with this, but also the rest of me is harder to imagine than the damn 70 trillion ISK.
Besides, I haven't thought about what I'd look for in someone to be together with in fucking forever. The last time I can even imagine something like that was daydreaming about it when I was twelve, and that wasn't so much about having a knight in shining armor or some princess or anything like so much as I just wanted to have someone else to help raise my siblings. I guess I'd...like someone who wasn't a whole lot of maintenance? I dunno, I'm tired. I'll give it some thought tomorrow. Speaking of which, I should probably get some sleep. Not gonna do any better tomorrow if I can't get the sleep out of my eyes before I hit the battlefield.
-End Log
-Author: Rinas Rylos
-Rank: C.E.O.
-Corporation: Rinas' Raiders (R.R.A.S.)
-Date: 115.08.26.
Today was just not been one of those days. On the battlefield, anyway. Whether it was some jackass with a forge gun figuring out where I've been sniping, some pair of dickheads in tanks rolling up on me while I was running around with my own forge gun, or just dealing with a squad of incredibly persistent motherfuckers all decked out in protogear, it's...today was not my day out there. Still, we've all got times like that, so I can't complain too much. That's what I tell myself, anyway. When your K/D is fucking pathetic it's hard not to bitch out loud about it, but given that I'm being paid to kill people I think that my perspective on things might be a bit skewed.
At any rate, the rest of my day wasn't too bad. Bought a new coffee maker that makes the stuff so fast it might as well just sense when I'm in the mood for the stuff. Construction on a new civilian corridor finished up that let me run past a large window again during my morning exercise, and I apparently was sought out by some disgraced Amarrian bishop who is apparently in exile with his assets frozen. According to the message, for just a small payment I can help him out, and be given a decent share of his ISK when he comes back into power. So in addition to everything else, I also got a great chance to laugh my ass off for a good half-hour. Not just at the obvious scam, but the idea that there was some poor bastard out there who actually fell for this.
The flying space bastards seem to be rather trigger-happy as of late, given that they had yet another giant battle none too long ago. Normally I'd just pass it off as the same shit, different day and all that, but looking at the numbers afterwards, I had to concede that that was a pretty big blowout even for them. 70 trillion ISK in assets? I'm not sure I could imagine a trillion ISK, much less seventy. I can already imagine their market going insane as they try and haul ass to recover everything they've all lost. I'm not sure how it's going insane, I'm a mercenary, not an economist, but I'm betting that actual economists are enjoying watching all the new data and shit flow in or something.
Oh! And apparently my dear little brother now has a certain special someone~ Or that's what I think, anyway. He asked me if I could up the payments back home so we could have a nanny help look after the twins. I told him sure, but he'd have to find one and I'd have to approve of them before I'd go along with the idea. Not about to let some freaky Amarrian zealot or weird Minmatarr guy or gal get paid to watch my siblings. Not without knowing they're sane enough to not murder, eat, or kidnap them, anyway. I know that doesn't sound like much to go on, but in the last few chats we've had he's also mentioned wanting to get out of the house a bit more lately, and I could've -sworn- I saw someone with long, flowing, orange hair flash by the camera last time we had a video chat. Not a one of us has long hair, not even my deadbeat dad, much less orange hair.
Still, that got me thinking about my own, uh...relationship status. Is that what you call it? I dunno. It's kind of hard to really imagine something like a significant other for myself. I know a few other mercs manage relationships with people, but I've not got a fucking clue about how they do it. I literally make a living off murdering people. They come back, yeah, but that still doesn't mean it's something I can just walk away from and pretend like it's the goddamned norm. Finding someone who would not only be alright with this, but also the rest of me is harder to imagine than the damn 70 trillion ISK.
Besides, I haven't thought about what I'd look for in someone to be together with in fucking forever. The last time I can even imagine something like that was daydreaming about it when I was twelve, and that wasn't so much about having a knight in shining armor or some princess or anything like so much as I just wanted to have someone else to help raise my siblings. I guess I'd...like someone who wasn't a whole lot of maintenance? I dunno, I'm tired. I'll give it some thought tomorrow. Speaking of which, I should probably get some sleep. Not gonna do any better tomorrow if I can't get the sleep out of my eyes before I hit the battlefield.
-End Log
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