Road to Umokka
I suppose the first step on the path to my redemption, was the very same step which took down to ruination, despair and disownment by my own nation. Although I didn’t know it at the time, that step was leaving the service of the Caldari Navy. A corporal in my outfit got it into his head that there was big money in contracting for the Navy. He recounted high tales of the dare, cunning and valour of these contractual organisations which won over many of our outfit. As a mid ranking officer I was forced to ignore such flagrant rallying within our ranks. However seeds of change were sown in my mind as well as that of my superior officer. The mundane work patrolling systems held secure by the Caldari State, mixed with the stress and paperwork of midlevel command took its toll and before we knew it, our own doubts, and the corporals propaganda had bought out minds. A month after the first idea we exchanged our commission for high ranking places in his private army.
The Caldari State welcomes loyal privateer corporation. An attitude formed in the forge of war when the Caldari attempted to become freedom from the Gallente. However the work was hard, and the monthly fees were harder still. We soon discovered that the second reason the Caldari State was happy to allow trained Navy Capsulers to form there own private armies, was economics, a subject also at the heart of the capitalistic Caldari. Although we were doing more interesting, and dangerous work for the Navy, we were now required to fund our own ships, losses, clones, and armaments. The cost was huge, and even with the navies exorbitant rewards, were barely stayed afloat on a sea of operational costs. Pressure to perform harder and better was so high many Pilot Capsulers, including my self turned to the frowned upon practice of Boosters. Boosters enabled us to perform in our ships in excess of normal humans in reaction times, calculations and general piloting skills. But the side effects were atrocious, and the cravings worse. At the time it felt like we needed the extra push just to keep our selves afloat.
Eventually the Corporation began to divide. Several factions broke away, convinced that they could do better, but floundering in parallel to us. Eventually the Corporal who started it all disappeared one day, some called foul of the loan companies, others talked of mutiny. Most of us hated the scummy bastard who got us in this mess. All in all that was the final spark on the fuse. Most of those who had turned to boosters had become truly addicted now and as a whole we were desperate, with no leadership piece by piece the corporation dispended. As one of the worst addicted to the Boosters I never even made it away from the station in which we once called our head quarters. While others traded their final isks on ships to seek a fortune, I found my self trading all but my last ship on Pills. Unable to run my ship on the funds available I trapped my self in the station living out of the Rokh. It became my last hope, a symbol of my hope to become free of the life I was rapidly falling into.
I spend almost a standard year telling my self I was saving to escape my prison. But I know now I was lying to my self. Every isk I had was spent on Boosters and, when I could not afford them, drink. It seemed like the rock bottom I had reached was insurmountable. This was the final step on my ruination.