New Dawn: Response to The Deathless

She was always a troubled girl. The rebellious daughter. Her dress muddied and torn, scratches across her face. Tears welling beneath epicanthic folds. The stern reprisal of a father at the end of his patience.

Yelling from behind closed doors.

She was the eldest; the protector. Schoolyard fights. Blackened eyes and bloody lips. A bright, gifted girl. So much potential being squandered, they used to say.

The tired old man. Working hard. Extra shifts. Side gigs. Counting cards and selling contraband. The lonely mother who understands. The constant relocations.

It was all for the eldest, who was always his favorite.

He put that brat through University and, finally, had enough money to sponsor her capsuleer training. She would be an Empyrean, free from mortal limits to dance between the stars. He could rest now. And rest would come.

The mother's birthday. Blackness descended in a titanic crashing of metal and alloy. Now a widow, the mother watches her only daughter leave.

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A Response to the Deathless
Posted 6.6.124
Author: Horus Du'Gannon

I am Horus Du’Gannon.

Hear and heed my prayer.

I speak as a sobornost kybernaut of The Convocation of Triglav outside of the struggle.

I am an emanation of Krai Svarog.

I accept the offer of time-locked playful communion against CONCORD’s lapdog, SARO by the non-cladistic narodnaya of the Deathless.

I like, you have have felt the aggression of CONCORD. First during my time in Molden Heath along side my warclone brothers and sisters and then later during the return of the Collective to Ancient Domains.

Immediate deployment of tactical troika in effect

Non-cladistic proving commences, Further assistance echo requested to all other subclade, aspirant narodnaya and affiliates

Glorification to the fit, mortification to the un-fit.

I speak as a sobornost kybernaut of the Triglavian Collective, outside of the struggle.

Hear and heed my prayer.

I am Horus Du’Gannon

re: Response to the Deathless
Posted 6.11.124
Author: Xuixien Xienxi

From the first day of my death-life, CONCORD has dogged my activities at every turn. As a capsuleer, my vessel is my body. My sacred conveyance through the cosmos. It is an extension of my body and my will. I merge with my machine through a hallowed bond.

And their electronics infest it. I feel the corrupting taint of their pestiferous voyeurism every moment I’m in space.

CONCORD disrupts your “proving” - they protect the weak and the helpless, allowing them to propagate while hamstringing the strong and bold.

They tie the hands of the Caldari State, thwarting our vengeance and our ascension to our proper place in New Eden as the dominant economic and military power. The treacherous, self-righteous Gallente spy and sabatogue and attack and subvert, and smile smugly from the safety of the convention.

The Empires want their proving; to settle our differences in the baptizing fire of war. And CONCORD holds us back. They are no longer needed or wanted.

If CONCORD wants these smugglers stopped, then I say we help the smugglers. I will pledge with The Deathless to throw the yoke of CONCORD off.