That happens only in ammarian merc quarters,you have stay there and read holy text rest of your days But rest of us we can walk freely in and out of our merc quarters

Hey Im down with the holy script reading. I like books.

Turns out the Scriptures have a pretty decent plot. Plus after all the traumatic sniper deaths I've had im pretty sure I have agoraphobia... probably why Im speccing into tanks now.

Surely all deaths are turamtiac?

Surely all deaths are turamtiac?

So next you have traumatic deaths from av

Not too serious an issue, but serious enough that it warrants an inquiry.

Recently, I decided to take a break from battle. It's been a while since I recieved my last contract. But something bothers me; I can't ever seem to remember leaving my quarters. I tried just a minute ago, and the door won't open. Every time I take a contract, I remember walking towards the door, then blacking out. Next thing you know, I'm on a War Barge. Am I confined or something? I can get plenty of entertainment from within my quarters, but not being able to leave just seems... Off.

On an unrelated note; I guess I've never been alive long enough to feel like I needed to use the restroom, but now I do and I can't figure out how to get my armour off! I've undone some latches here and there, but so far I've only managed to get my shoulder guards removed. It's so confusing, I've never needed to work this out before!

What do I do?!

Not too serious an issue, but serious enough that it warrants an inquiry.

Recently, I decided to take a break from battle. It's been a while since I recieved my last contract. But something bothers me; I can't ever seem to remember leaving my quarters. I tried just a minute ago, and the door won't open. Every time I take a contract, I remember walking towards the door, then blacking out. Next thing you know, I'm on a War Barge. Am I confined or something? I can get plenty of entertainment from within my quarters, but not being able to leave just seems... Off.

On an unrelated note; I guess I've never been alive long enough to feel like I needed to use the restroom, but now I do and I can't figure out how to get my armour off! I've undone some latches here and there, but so far I've only managed to get my shoulder guards removed. It's so confusing, I've never needed to work this out before!

What do I do?!

Some much, much more than others.

It's gotten so I don't really mind catching a flechette. The more often it happens, the better the contract is usually going, and it's relatively painless.

Relative, specifically, to a 'Toxin' weapon. Why those things are even approved for nanofacture, I really don't understand.

Believe me, they are much more fun from the sending end of the weapon. After a sentinel has decimated your squad and clone reserves for a solid fifteen minutes, bundled up all nice and tight in his prototype gear, hearing the big guy scream when you finally take him down just feels so good. There no real endorphin rush like it on the market to thoroughly ruin someone's day.

I make sure to finish an enemy off though, so it isn't like they are rolling around in pain for too long.

No, the really brutal deaths are things that we aren't even authorized to use in combat these days. PSYKLAD rounds, flamethrowers, nerve agents, that is the really nasty stuff.

And you call me sickening. Where is your honour?

You are simply transferring your consciousness from your 'casual' clone to a fully battle ready clone on the war barge. This process is a bit traumatic leaving you with momentary amnesia of the process. It is the fastest way to get into battle, so we accept its drawbacks.

The doors are sealed as a security procedure to protect your clone while you are in battle. Simply speak your passphrase and it will unlock.

You do remember your passphrase don't you?

Believe me, they are much more fun from the sending end of the weapon. After a sentinel has decimated your squad and clone reserves for a solid fifteen minutes, bundled up all nice and tight in his prototype gear, hearing the big guy scream when you finally take him down just feels so good. There no real endorphin rush like it on the market to thoroughly ruin someone's day.

I make sure to finish an enemy off though, so it isn't like they are rolling around in pain for too long.

No, the really brutal deaths are things that we aren't even authorized to use in combat these days. PSYKLAD rounds, flamethrowers, nerve agents, that is the really nasty stuff.

Honor is not the same as integrity, Adamance. I would rather have truth in marketing than lies and deceit to create the illusion of a moral high ground. It is through integritiy that people begin to see you for who you really are, and that forms a bond stronger than any admiration a false reputation of honor might generate.

Judge me by my results, not my methods. I would rather brutally cripple an enemy invasion force than enslave a population with a false sense of honor, Templar. It is also frequently said that we should not take this job personally, but it can be hard not to when you lose a large sum of your own equipment to a mercenary who does not even believe in the cause he is fighting for.

Two of those three are relatively ineffective against a modern, dropsuited combat clone, Fae-haan. The third ... well, we've yet to see battlefield conditions calling for artillery barrages outside of orbital bombardment. In time, perhaps.

I know the experience of using such weapons, myself. I've discontinued their use. The only misery I require from my better-equipped opponents is the loss of their gear to an opponent with inferior equipment.

If one of your results is to worsen my allies' psychological condition for the unforgivable sin of accepting a public contract opposite you, Fae-haan, then you will hopefully forgive me if I regard that outcome as one of your results.

The integrity you seem to promote is a breed of honor with a troubled history. Taken to its extreme, it discards courtesy, duty, law-- all the illusions that underlie civilization. Even in its lesser forms, it erodes those same foundations. Being aware of fictions does not demand that we reject them, any more than being aware that "money" is imaginary demands that you stop using it.

I was simply trying to make the point that there are worse ways to die.

Showing it off opens up a few bar seats, I know that much.

Nobody here has any fear. As immortals, we simply don't have the capacity. Still, a professional reputation of thoroughly defeating an opponent pays well. It just works out that I take some pride in my work, why shouldn't I? Especially when it aligns with my own ideals from time to time.

Honor is just the bastard child of pride, and foolish pride at that. When you strip it to its core, honor is just a childish plea with the universe to have it marked somewhere that you are a better man of some sorts. Silver tongues and shady politics have all been claimed to be honorable at some point. But integrity holds no secrets or false promises. It shows the world who you are and what you defend, and allows others to decide for themselves whether you are wrong or right rather than being told the truth by a preconceived notion. Call me daft or tactless, but I would rather know who stands for what and what they are willing to do then have everyone mask themselves behind preconceived notions.

To this end, I am willing to uphold my own values. Even if previous mandates such as courtesy, law, and duty are cast away to do so.

No fear? For ourselves, perhaps. Also, did we not recently have a discussion of the 'Toxin' and exactly how it relates to your ideals?

Have you discovered new ideals that it actually works with, rather than just satisfying a desire to see your opponents suffer?

What a sad epiphany to have come to, Fae-haan. Like the Blood Raiders, you have found a fragment of truth, and you mistake it for the whole. Not only do you hold yourself above the Empire, but above all of civilization.

It is a mistake I can relate to, yet hate nevertheless. We despise most what we are nearest to becoming.

All of you make excellent points. Such a ravaging debate, with such ferocity and passion behind each person's words.

And I still can't get my damn armour off.

Are you using Amarr Assault armor? Because that isn't suppose to come off, it is attached to your spine.

Maybe I should have started by saying that.

Mostly I just came to terms with the fact I was trying to trick myself into ignoring the fact that I enjoyed the feeling I suppose. It was more damaging in the end to lie to myself than to admit my own wickedness. I no longer employ the Toxin weapon system except as a sidearm for when the moment calls for it. Chiefly, when I come across someone who I feel deserves it. I am not wholly evil, at least not yet. I still believe that a commendable opponent deserves a certain level of respect. Just ask Adamance, we have fought each other before, and I would gladly face him again. Regardless of his ideals, I respect his resolve and determination in combat. Other soldiers however deserve no such courtesy.

Perhaps soldiers like myself.

And yet aside from the child killing I smile when I review what the Blood Raiders have accomplished in developing a well educated society that chooses a life that embraces the state of nature that their god birthed them from. Sure they feast upon our own, but these days they do so from the most deserving source in all of New Eden. It is really quite brilliant from a psychological point of view.

To see one's self and one's place with clarity is commendable in its way. It is more troubling, however, that you seem to prefer a path that conforms to what you want rather than what you are called upon to do and be.

A sure sign of a Caldari who has gone astray is that he speaks words that dishonor his ancestors. You have aligned honor with pride; what then of your forefathers and their culture, steeped in honor? What does it say of yourself that you not only reject their path, but mock it?

I do not believe in evil, Fae-haan, but I do believe in arrogance and folly. In the past, I walked a path comparable to your own, though I never fell in love with suffering, only with death and the deep uncaring cold of places between.

It took long years for me to learn my mistake. I pray that it will not take you so long.

Many Minmatar make the same mistake you do, Fae-haan: they believe the Sani are their allies, or at least useful enemies to their hated foes. But the Amarr are not the worst New Eden has to offer, and Sani cultists ascendant over the Empire would be no less of a threat than the Amarr themselves. And if you happen to be a Minmatar with relatives still enslaved, their fate under the Sani would be far more in question.

The Amarr do not hold the weak in open contempt, after all.

What the Sani fail to see is that power for its own sake is analogous to collecting an elaborate toolbox only for the sake of having more tools. Power is a means to an end; with no end but itself, it is reduced to an endless recursive exercise in tool acquisition.

Well I am at least part Intaki. Some have insisted that it grants me a potent fusion of having the capacity for deep thought while still being too direct to entirly think these thoughts through.

My father on the other hand was a mercenary, like myself. In his day, there was only one rule to combat: Survive. On the battlefield, hard choices needed to be made that did not always equate to the honorable thing to do. He taught me the value of personal consistancy over rectitude. I can only hope that the spirits will not be so daft as to judge me by my methods of defending my values.

Besides, honor has always been a nondescript term. If you send a Matari boy off to war and he brings back sixty-four severed heads, he is bringing his family honor. In other cultures, honor is found in pulling a comrad from twisted wreckage or having the humility to accept defeat.

Honor has always simply been a nonexistant reward system for those who conform to what society dictates is acceptable behavior without asking the individual to decide for himself what is right or wrong. Honor, at the end of the day, is just another weapon in the Empire's arsenal.

Naturally a cult like the Blood Raiders could never hope to control an entire race of people. But if they were to shake an empire to its foundations, perhaps perhaps perhaps another goal might be achieved. Hypothetically an Empire under siege by the SaniSabik would be unstable enough that an outside power would be forced to step in, lest they rip themselves appart in turmoil. At least then a war with the Empire would be seen as an acceptable liberation from a savage and violent cult rather than facing an enemy that can feign nobility.

Ryeon-haani, corrupt governments in power throughout the cluster have all been squabbling for what exists now in the present. I find very few ever have the luxury of fighting for the future, or at the very least predicting possible outcomes. All the outcomes I can see point to one undeniable fact: Unless the Amarr are brought to an end now, they will quickly become the largest threat in the universe.

Also, the Templar Crusader is quite correct to point out that Sansha Kuvakei is a more pressing problem. I would not greatly enjoy life as a slave to the Amarr, but I plan on working out a way to reliably and actually kill myself rather than let the Nation take me.

As those Caldari who are ethnic Achura can attest, a person's blood has little meaning compared to their upbringing. The Civire learn to be frank and direct, the Deteis to be still and subtle.

If the Amarr have some method of using this code against me, they are more creative than I am.

Then you have perceived one truth of our time: the Amarr must not destroy the Minmatar Republic, or we will soon have to face the Amarr. The reverse, however, is also true: the Matari must not destroy the Empire, or we will face both the Federation and the Republic.

The Amarr are aggressive, but not substantially more so than the Federation. Each believes it holds a Great Truth; each will spread that Truth by persuasion or by conquest.