Log 002

Log 002

-Author: Rinas Rylos

-Rank: Soldier.

-Corporation: Hostile Acquisitions Inc. (H.A.I.)

-Date: 115.04.09

Battling was a mess today. Aside from an odd Skirmish contract where the opposing mercs had superior firepower and shit-for-brains, it seemed like everyone and their mother had teamed up to hunt us down, and that was when they were being kind. I haven't had to revive that much in one contract in fucking forever. It was a goddamned mess today, and even though I won the others it still nagged at me for the rest of my time planetside. Another goddamned lousy reminder that I'm just one merc.

Speaking of which, I've begun to notice a pattern between the mercenaries. You've got the occasional person like me, who's decent but is only one guy or gal in the scheme of things and does their best during the match, but they're competing against not just the other team but the stupidity of their own, so it's fucking pointless. There's the random bastards who suck more than a Gallente hooker, that line up to be slaughtered by an assault rifle, or stand stock fucking still while I line up my sniper rifle. Last, but almost certainly not least, there are squads that seem to piss death and shoot plasma from their assholes. Almost makes me wish I could put together a competent squad sometime, but I'd just slow them down, and vice versa. I'm not...bad, alone, but compared to these teams I'm like a piss in the pool versus a team designed to clean it. That said...I met another merc today named Kazu, actually. Decent guy, particularly good with a heavy machine gun, but kept going on about having something to fight for and a reason to fight. The sad thing is that I almost didn't understand what the fuck he was talking about, at first.

I tried to have one at first, ya know. I thought that there had to be some purpose to all this bloodshed besides pointless bickering between groups, but the more I fought the more I realized that the closest thing there is to a purpose is ISK. Heh, I still remember when I was first suited up. Even the basic gear they throw us into is worth more than the entirety of everything I'd made up until then. Or even my sister or brother, or mom, or...dad...

So, an old (relatively speaking) war buddy came up to me not long after I'd settled down for the day from the fights. He was one of the guys that split from some disagreement in the corp, and offered me a possible position within his new one. For whatever reason, I took it. Probably because I'm tired of fighting alone and getting my ass stomped, if I'm being honest. But I have no more loyalty to them than I did to SOON, and I doubt that'll change anytime...well, soon. At the end of the day it comes down to how much money I can make, and anyone who pretends there's another reason for all this pointless bullshit slaughter is kidding themselves.

-End Log