CONTINGENCY.exe activated...
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FILE CORRUPTED. ATTEMPT RECONSTRUCTION? Y/N
RECONSTRUCTION ATTEMPTED.......
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RECONSTRUCTION PARTIALLY SUCCESSFUL. DISPLAYING RESULTS:
-Author: Ri#as Ry@#s
-Rank: CORRUPTED
-Corporation: CORRUPTED
-Date: 114.##.##
This will be the final log of Rinas Rylos. If you're reading this, either I've delved into the vastness of space to eke out a living as one of those flying space bastards, or the Gallentean government got me. Or something else, I dunno-This is only set to appear on my tablet if I haven't mind a post in over two years, so probably something has happened to me. Granted, I might've just stopped writing, but I suppose that's the result no matter what's happened to me.
I hope the family is doing well, along with Kaz and all the rest of my friends. It's weird to think that I even have any, given that when I started this whole journal business I was more bitter than an Amarrean pilot that was told he can't get paid in slaves. I'm sure there's still the usual space wars out there; Assholes in tons of metal and electronics and who know what else pounding the shit out of each other with weapons that could decimate a planet. Folks die, others get paid, life goes on usual...It's so weird to think of an economy built off of it, and yet...I profited from it. I lived off it. Hell, I thrived on it compared to some other people, and what's more I also enjoyed it.
I can't brush that off, no matter how much I want to. I know I'm gonna have to live (keep living? Assuming I'm still alive out there) with all this. Even if I'm not talking with Doc or my family or anyone else anymore...you can't survive alone. Sometimes when I think back to how robotic I was when I first got turned into...what I am, it scares me. I was basically a biological drone in some aspects, driven mostly out of spite and a desire to live. I guess...that hasn't actually changed much actually. It hasn't changed much, but I've got reasons to be more than just spiteful and murderous all the time. Even if they're all gone now, I've still got their memories-our memories. Memories of thrilling moments in battle, of tender moments with everyone...
Sorry if it seems like I'm just rambling, but it's not like I know what to write in the event of my disappearance/death, y'know? It's kinda conceited of me to admit, but it's hard to imagine death as a reality when I've been shot, stabbed, and run over enough times to put a batallion in the ground. But assuming the program works as intended, then I'm not around to really explain all this, so...I hope whoever reads this has a happy life. I hope they've learned something from the shit I wrote down, even if it's just to enjoy life a bit more. I hope they've learned that even if they don't think so, there's people out there who care about them and love them. I hope they've maybe enjoyed all my stories, and perhaps might take a shot at expressing themselves somehow.
I don't hope that this wasn't all for nothing, because I know it wasn't. It got me out of my funk, and let me look back on some of the most amazing battles anyone will ever have. This is, was, whatever-it's my validation of my existence, and whether this is eventually just thrown in a trash can somewhere or gets posted on the net and stays up until the heat death of the universe, I'm just happy to have made it. And if I managed to uplift some other folks at the same time, well...all the better. Because whether you're another former mercenary, or one of those flying space bastards, or just another person trying to make their way through New Eden, you're having just as much of adventure as I am. Might not seem like it from your perspective, I'm sure, but everything looks more glamorous from someone else's view, y'know?
I suppose I should probably wrap this up. I've got a battle up in a few minutes, and then it's off to go get drunk with Kaz again. To whomever is reading this: Thank you for your time and patience, and I hope your own adventures continue. I'll see you starside.
-End L*g
Saturday, January 20, 2018
Saturday, September 3, 2016
Log 05X-9
Log 05X-9
-Author: Rinas Rylos
-Rank: C.E.O.
-Corporation: Rinas' Raiders
-Date: 114.05.02
Well, Journal, preparations are just about done, and not a moment too soon. Sorta. I mean, there's still roughly a month before I make my move, but it's given me some time to sit back and double check that I've done everything I can ensure this all goes smoothly. My money is harder to track than a cloaked scouter, I've got just enough assets left to put up a facade of giving a shit in my contracts for the time left to me, and I've currently got some implants to learn how to finally fly a damn ship hooked up to my tech. Granted, I'm not a capsuleer, so things don't -exactly- translate, but I figure it's more or less accurate, and it saves me the hassle of having to hire an actual crew and then bribe them to keep their mouths shut or just flat-out murder them. Ordinarily, I'd be joking about that last bit, but looking back at the things I've done and the business I've gotten myself into, perhaps it's not as comical as I'd like it to be.
Don't get me wrong, talking with Kaz has helped me realize that it's a little too late to, uh, backtrack on my particular career choice, even if it wasn't nearly as much of a choice in the beginning, and talking with Chime reminded me that I've gotten awfully philosophical about a job that's pretty simple, all things considered. Pull trigger, try not to die, get paid, repeat. Ruminating on the spiritual or ethical choices of a system designed to not only keep everyone alive but also return them home at the end of the day is kind of like discussing the moral ramifications of being some kind of pencil pushing bureaucrat, though as far as -that- goes, I'm relatively sure I've killed way less people than bureaucrats have, especially permanently. At any rate, it's probably not my place (and god knows you've had to listen to my whining about ethics more than anyone, Journal) but I think it's probably one of the few things that really helps me cope. Or was. Did? Will? I dunno. I'm not sure I'm going to keep writing after I'm done with this. Perhaps I'll edit a few things and put this out on the net, let the common folk see what it's like to live without ever dying. Or maybe I'll just delete the whole thing and laugh about it. At this point, anything seems like a viable option; Aside from my funds, I'm not actually taking a whole lot with me; A good luck charm Kaz made me from part of a dud artillery shell that landed right next to him, a hair decoration that Chime gave me after landing a particularly lucrative contract, and as for the Doc...I'll have to think about it.
As far as my family goes...I do have a picture. I went landside just before the end of last month to take it. Gods, they've all gotten so much bigger. My brother is almost as tall as I am, and that's post surgical and genetic enhancement. The kids are all walking now, and most of them can talk, save for little Sina. She's the youngest, technically, given that her and Rive are twins, but she was born about a minute later than he was. I...I'm not gonna lie, Journal, I wasn't in top form when I came down. I had presents lined up and was totally prepared to make the most of what time I had left with them, but I broke quicker than a Caldari being forced to sell shit at cost. I'm not the most...familial person, Journal. What I did when I was younger, I did more out of a sense of duty to my siblings than out of any love, and while that might seem cold, it kept them alive and healthy. I think if I'd let myself love them, then the sense of guilt for them being put in such a shit situation would've killed me, even if it was hardly my fault to begin with.
Well, that went out the fucking window, and about any composure I had with it. I walked through the doorway to our-their house, and I just...couldn't. Seeing them all, happy and healthy and knowing that I contributed to it all, and it was one of the few times in my life where I've felt like I've actually contributed something positive to the universe, and I just couldn't. And then they put those tiny fucking hands on me, trying to make me feel better, and my brother held me, and I swear to god I don't want to go now. I really, really, really fucking don't. We talked, and laughed, and I got to actually feel like part of my own family for the first fucking time, and it's all going to be torn away because I cannot and will not let them be torn apart by those fucks in our government just so they can get to me. So instead I sucked it up, and after bawling like I was younger than Sina we went and toured their house, seeing their bedrooms, the kitchen, the entertainment room, etc. It was all so...normal, which was kinda hard to comprehend, if I'm gonna be real. I mean, I've got a vid screen up in my apartment, but since I've just got the basic package it's like ninety-nine percent ads for weapon deals (which are getting increasingly more desperate, I might add) and the occasional ad for stuff like new suits and whatnot.
I was kinda glad to see that they were living fairly modestly; The house wasn't too big, and their clothing and food was nice, but not extravagant, something I guess my brother picked up from me. I've sent them a loooot of money, especially considering it has to be exchanged for planetside currency, so they're gonna be fine for a long, long, while. After they showed me around, they had me sit down and asked about a million questions about my job, just about all of which I couldn't answer. Even if I wasn't about to give the government the finger and head on out, there's so much that's still classified that even knowing a hint about it would land them in a "reeducation camp" somewhere with the flimsiest fucking excuse for a trial ever. Besides, licensed mercenary isn't exactly a family table topic of conversation, whether it's your job or not, right? I'm seriously asking, since I have no fucking idea.
I've contemplated the idea of just pulling them out of their lives completely, but I can't do that. It would destabilize everything I've worked for, and if I couldn't find someplace to help them settle down again? They'd be screwed. Besides, the only other places they would be safe are in foreign space, which...isn't really so much more safe as less likely to wind up strapped to a chair somewhere. As it is, I know they're going to be abducted; That's...just a thing that's going to happen. Once I'm off the radar, they'll come kicking down doors and brandishing these guns that might've been able to put a round in some of the earliest suits they produced for us. They'll scare the shit out of them, talk about not seeing their relatives again, about going to jail forever, etc, but once it finally becomes clear that they'll have no idea where I am, they'll be released. They might be fucking assholes, but even my government won't just up and execute people for absolutely no reason.
So after we played twenty bajillion questions, we settled down for dinner, we snuggled up together to watch a movie, and then...well, it was time to go. Everyone except the oldest was rubbing sleep out of their eyes anyway, and there was only one shuttle back up beyond the atmosphere scheduled for the day. Hugs were given, right alongside a ton of kisses, and...that was it. I left.
I've done some shit things, Journal. I don't deserve the love they showed me. But that didn't stop every step away from their place becoming that much more difficult. All my money, all my experience, I'd trade all of it away just to have another day with them. But I can't.
I'm going to miss them.
-End Log
-Author: Rinas Rylos
-Rank: C.E.O.
-Corporation: Rinas' Raiders
-Date: 114.05.02
Well, Journal, preparations are just about done, and not a moment too soon. Sorta. I mean, there's still roughly a month before I make my move, but it's given me some time to sit back and double check that I've done everything I can ensure this all goes smoothly. My money is harder to track than a cloaked scouter, I've got just enough assets left to put up a facade of giving a shit in my contracts for the time left to me, and I've currently got some implants to learn how to finally fly a damn ship hooked up to my tech. Granted, I'm not a capsuleer, so things don't -exactly- translate, but I figure it's more or less accurate, and it saves me the hassle of having to hire an actual crew and then bribe them to keep their mouths shut or just flat-out murder them. Ordinarily, I'd be joking about that last bit, but looking back at the things I've done and the business I've gotten myself into, perhaps it's not as comical as I'd like it to be.
Don't get me wrong, talking with Kaz has helped me realize that it's a little too late to, uh, backtrack on my particular career choice, even if it wasn't nearly as much of a choice in the beginning, and talking with Chime reminded me that I've gotten awfully philosophical about a job that's pretty simple, all things considered. Pull trigger, try not to die, get paid, repeat. Ruminating on the spiritual or ethical choices of a system designed to not only keep everyone alive but also return them home at the end of the day is kind of like discussing the moral ramifications of being some kind of pencil pushing bureaucrat, though as far as -that- goes, I'm relatively sure I've killed way less people than bureaucrats have, especially permanently. At any rate, it's probably not my place (and god knows you've had to listen to my whining about ethics more than anyone, Journal) but I think it's probably one of the few things that really helps me cope. Or was. Did? Will? I dunno. I'm not sure I'm going to keep writing after I'm done with this. Perhaps I'll edit a few things and put this out on the net, let the common folk see what it's like to live without ever dying. Or maybe I'll just delete the whole thing and laugh about it. At this point, anything seems like a viable option; Aside from my funds, I'm not actually taking a whole lot with me; A good luck charm Kaz made me from part of a dud artillery shell that landed right next to him, a hair decoration that Chime gave me after landing a particularly lucrative contract, and as for the Doc...I'll have to think about it.
As far as my family goes...I do have a picture. I went landside just before the end of last month to take it. Gods, they've all gotten so much bigger. My brother is almost as tall as I am, and that's post surgical and genetic enhancement. The kids are all walking now, and most of them can talk, save for little Sina. She's the youngest, technically, given that her and Rive are twins, but she was born about a minute later than he was. I...I'm not gonna lie, Journal, I wasn't in top form when I came down. I had presents lined up and was totally prepared to make the most of what time I had left with them, but I broke quicker than a Caldari being forced to sell shit at cost. I'm not the most...familial person, Journal. What I did when I was younger, I did more out of a sense of duty to my siblings than out of any love, and while that might seem cold, it kept them alive and healthy. I think if I'd let myself love them, then the sense of guilt for them being put in such a shit situation would've killed me, even if it was hardly my fault to begin with.
Well, that went out the fucking window, and about any composure I had with it. I walked through the doorway to our-their house, and I just...couldn't. Seeing them all, happy and healthy and knowing that I contributed to it all, and it was one of the few times in my life where I've felt like I've actually contributed something positive to the universe, and I just couldn't. And then they put those tiny fucking hands on me, trying to make me feel better, and my brother held me, and I swear to god I don't want to go now. I really, really, really fucking don't. We talked, and laughed, and I got to actually feel like part of my own family for the first fucking time, and it's all going to be torn away because I cannot and will not let them be torn apart by those fucks in our government just so they can get to me. So instead I sucked it up, and after bawling like I was younger than Sina we went and toured their house, seeing their bedrooms, the kitchen, the entertainment room, etc. It was all so...normal, which was kinda hard to comprehend, if I'm gonna be real. I mean, I've got a vid screen up in my apartment, but since I've just got the basic package it's like ninety-nine percent ads for weapon deals (which are getting increasingly more desperate, I might add) and the occasional ad for stuff like new suits and whatnot.
I was kinda glad to see that they were living fairly modestly; The house wasn't too big, and their clothing and food was nice, but not extravagant, something I guess my brother picked up from me. I've sent them a loooot of money, especially considering it has to be exchanged for planetside currency, so they're gonna be fine for a long, long, while. After they showed me around, they had me sit down and asked about a million questions about my job, just about all of which I couldn't answer. Even if I wasn't about to give the government the finger and head on out, there's so much that's still classified that even knowing a hint about it would land them in a "reeducation camp" somewhere with the flimsiest fucking excuse for a trial ever. Besides, licensed mercenary isn't exactly a family table topic of conversation, whether it's your job or not, right? I'm seriously asking, since I have no fucking idea.
I've contemplated the idea of just pulling them out of their lives completely, but I can't do that. It would destabilize everything I've worked for, and if I couldn't find someplace to help them settle down again? They'd be screwed. Besides, the only other places they would be safe are in foreign space, which...isn't really so much more safe as less likely to wind up strapped to a chair somewhere. As it is, I know they're going to be abducted; That's...just a thing that's going to happen. Once I'm off the radar, they'll come kicking down doors and brandishing these guns that might've been able to put a round in some of the earliest suits they produced for us. They'll scare the shit out of them, talk about not seeing their relatives again, about going to jail forever, etc, but once it finally becomes clear that they'll have no idea where I am, they'll be released. They might be fucking assholes, but even my government won't just up and execute people for absolutely no reason.
So after we played twenty bajillion questions, we settled down for dinner, we snuggled up together to watch a movie, and then...well, it was time to go. Everyone except the oldest was rubbing sleep out of their eyes anyway, and there was only one shuttle back up beyond the atmosphere scheduled for the day. Hugs were given, right alongside a ton of kisses, and...that was it. I left.
I've done some shit things, Journal. I don't deserve the love they showed me. But that didn't stop every step away from their place becoming that much more difficult. All my money, all my experience, I'd trade all of it away just to have another day with them. But I can't.
I'm going to miss them.
-End Log
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