DOTLAN EveMaps

Alright, listen up!

The boss wanted me to write something here ta tell y'all about us. I ain't no fuckin' wordsmith though -- don't got lots of no formal schoolin' or shit. So I'mma do my best ta tell y'all why we're the best beer-drinkin', chaw-spittin', sister-fuckin' corp in the whole game. Wait. 'cept for 'at sister part. Can I take that back?

Eve ain't no game for no sissies, crybabies, or weaklings. Tha men here are fuckin' men. Tha women here are fuckin' men. Tha kids here are fuckin' men. Tha pets here are fuckin' men. Manly men, doing manly things. With each other. Oiled. Fuckin'. Or is that just me? Tha point I'm tryin' ta make, tha universe is a harsh place and ya need some solid stand-up types beside ya if y'all gunna to succeed. Me? I ain't no standup type. First sign 'o danger an' I'm-a fleein' like a mangy-dog in tha springtime. Tha boss though? Deteris Maldori? He's a real gentile-man type person and he'll have all y'all's back. And ya front. Hell, if you's cute maybe ya sides too. Nah, he don't leer -- that's what I do.

Look, we live in a wormhole. It's like a manhole see, 'cept in space, with no cover. Uncovered holes. Manholes. Or wormholes. MmmmMmm -- feels good don't it? We do explorin' and tha like. Tha boss, he makes maps, he's got that old school learnin' and new school spirit. Me, I break things. Not like other players, I'm piss poor in a fight unless it's a fuckin' ambush (my favorite type of fight), but containers. Boss makes the maps, I open the cans, and we all get rich. Ain't happened yet, but it could!

Boss has all sorts of get-rich schemes. Builds stuff. Purty stuff. Like rigs and modules and ammunition. MmmMmm, fusion M baby! I love tha smell 'o burnt cordite in tha mornin', reminds me of back in tha day when ma 'ma had me hold a can 'o my head ta practice her shootin'. I miss ma 'ma sometimes, came out second-best in a fight with the biggest beaver y'all ever did see. Tore her limb by limb. I still gots her tracheal tube, smells like cigarettes an' reminds me 'o home.

. . . Where was I? Oh yeah, tha boss. Full 'o good ideas, that one. All sorts of explorin' and buildin' and doin' favours for NPCs and tha like. Occasionally smashes a trespasser too. Says "well, they didn't read the damn sign," I says "but boss-man, what if they can't read?" Not that I can't read or anythin', I may not have pretty schoolin' but I am perfect-el-ly litrate!

Some of our boys, they like rocks too. I don't see what the hubub is muhself, I'm all like "a rock's a rock ain't it?" Then they tell me ta shut-it.

Either way. Y'all interested in joinin'? We're the best. At everything. Except fightin', and buildin', and findin'. and minin'. Okay. Fine. We're fair at many things. I am tha best at drinkin' though, so we got that runnin' for us. And the rock guy, he's aweful fierce 'o smellin', so that's pretty cool too. Either way, good standin' with the sisters, 3 mil skills, ability to scan, and accept our taxes and y'all can probably join the clan.

Oh. and please be purdy too. I like tha pretty ones.

Diplomatic/Recruitment Contact: Mira Kiraly
(She's aweful purdy, got a mouth like a sailor though, an' a fist like a brick. Take it from me, y'all ain't wanna pinch her, she'll knock y'all down and than drink another shot. Not that it's ever happened to me, of course.)