Pretty much like the title says. I’ve got something that a team of writers and eve-online history buffs have been working on that we’d like realized as a fully cg production that’s split across five mini episodes. We need artists, and we need voice actors.
I myself am team lead, we’ve got several people ingame as well that have offered there services and you will collaborate with them as you will with me via any number of chat applications. We have a release date of Christmas for Episode 1 and 2.
CCP Games has our back 100% on this project and is offering any support they possibly can. I would go into a long outline of the project but I think a partial script should catch your attention a little better! So read, Enjoy and signup to help! At the bottom I will list contact info as well as positions available.
Dark Deeds Draft
By kara739 on Oct.26, 2009, based on writings of Justin Dixon Proof Draft
He sat alone in the quasi darkness of his laboratory. Marcus Jror wasnt a one for brooding, yet that was exactly what he was doing. The calamity that had befallen his beloved empress had become no less of an enigma to him, and the idea of a problem he couldnt solve drove him to the edges of his sanity. Lately, he had returned to his research, so that he might clear his mind for a time, and was tinkering with some mechanism salvaged from the floating debris that surrounded him. He rubbed his eyes and looked up for a moment. His eyes fell upon the littered debris dotting the starscape in front of the violent tempest that was the Eve gate. He happened to notice his haggard appearance as a result of the reflection from the light on the workbench. He hadnt shaved in nearly a month and had slept fewer nights than he had fingers. Hand me the voltmeter Paul. The drone effortlessly hovered over to the other end of the workspace and retrieved the device before returning it to his master, HERE YOU ARE MARCUS, it responded with its mechanical drone. The solitude must be getting to him, he had taken to giving the various drones names and even had them start to refer to him by name; but that was to be expected after being alone in space for over a year. Marcus had barely turned the device on when the ships AI let out a chirp.
What is it Father?
SEVERAL CONTACTS DETECTED: ORIGIN, AMARRIAN.
Show me, he responded. Suddenly, a holographic tactical overview of the surrounded area for hundreds of AUs around was projected onto the widow. Scanners indicated that it was a Redeemer class battleship, accompanied by an Absolution class command ship, two Pilgrim class cruisers, and a handful of Anathema and Purifier class frigates. They were trying to be quiet, moving slowly and cloaked, so as to avoid attention from whatever pirates and outlaws were lurking out there. They were still some ways away, yet the scanners onboard the Significance picked them out easily, even though cloaked.
He knew this was coming, he knew Jamyl wouldnt let him go that easily, especially given what he knew. He began weighing the options in his head, the task force wouldnt likely be able to probe him out for a dozen months or so, but knowing where to look, as they undoubtedly did, certainly helped in their prospects. He had made preparations for this occurrence, bulking the weaponry and the defenses of the ship, but a head on fight wouldnt be easily winnable in this case considering the ship was little more than a research carrier at heart. Also, the situation called for a degree of finesse, since the Jovians would be wary of any significant battles in the area, and could very likely get involved. As advanced as the Significance was, Marcus knew he would never stand a chance against the Jove. There was one advantage he knew hed have though, the interference from the Eve gate would prevent Jamyl from using her new powers to communicate with them. Once they got close, they would be on their own. Knowing this, Marcus had an idea. If he could stage some sort of ambush, and rapidly disable the incoming ships, they would be unable to get a communiqué out, even via subspace. With any luck, Jamyl would think them victims of the Eve gate, and not of foul play. It was time to test out his latest discovery
Admiral Tim Barnak stood stoically as he could on the bridge of his ship. Even days later, he could barely contain his excitement at being promoted and entrusted with such an important mission by the Holy Empress Jamyl Sarum herself. His heart was full of ambition to please her, and he prayed daily for it to be so. Upon entry to the New Eden system, he lost any sense of composure, along with the rest of his crew, at the magnificent site of the Eve gate. Seeing it was a once in a lifetime opportunity, and he felt truly blessed to have been honored with such an opportunity by the Empress. The presence of the Lieutenant behind him quickly snapped him back to reality as he began barking orders, Deploy Gamma wing to start scanning the system, order the rest to stay in formation and keep radio silence unless they have new contacts to report.
Yes sir, the Lieutenant replied. It took fewer than five minutes before the tension was broken by a broadcast from the comms station.
Seeker One this is Gamma Nine, we have something
. Sir, its the Significance!
Barnak could barely contain his excitement, he had prayed for a chance to please the Empress and now he had one right in front of him. He would bring the blasphemous traitor Jror back to her majesty in chains as an offering to her greatness, and with him, would be any discoveries he had made.
Order everyone to fall back into formation, take us in. Red alert, he commanded giddily. The Lieutenant paused for a moment as if to voice his objection before echoing the orders to the crew, as they scrambled to their respective battle stations and strapped in for the jump through warp.
Fifteen minutes later, as the crew was shaking off the effects of Cynosis, Admiral Barnak stared out the viewport at the display before him. In the distance, against the bright backdrop of the Eve gate, stood the Significance, its hull standing defiantly ahead.
Sir should we hail? the Lieutenant queried.
No, he replied, we will grant no mercy to this blasphemer, I will have no words with this traitor. Order the fleet to advance, have the Punishment move into position and lock her down, have Alpha and Bravo wings advance and orbit at 20km, target the Significance and fire as soon as their in range.
What of Gamma wing sir?
Oh yes, order them in as well, cant hurt after all, and the more of her majesties retribution felt by this heretic the better. he issued confidently.
Yes sir, the Lieutenant replied meekly. The man seemed rather insubordinate to Barnak for some reason and he thought that he would make an example of him after this was said and done. The fleet glided silently, as all ships in space do, across the sparse debris field, edging closer to the Significance. One rather large piece of debris loomed ahead, and Barnak pondered if perhaps the ship would pass too close to it when everything blinked out of existence in a flash of light.
Barnak awoke on the cold floor of the bridge to the sounds of screaming and alarms blaring through the ship. He could taste the blood in his mouth, and some whining sound that he eventually identified as the Lieutenant, hovering over him yelling, Sir, what are your orders sir?! We need orders! Barnak rose to his feet as quickly as he could and tried to take in the tactical display. Bravo and Gamma wings were gone, both pilgrims were down, and the Punishment fired its lasers helplessly at the incoming hoard of drones as it began to list to its aft side. He had no idea what to do, his mind raced, searching for the answer, but all that came out was a feeble, Full retreat.
Excuse me sir? the Lieutenant responded.
Barnak swung his fist at the man and yelled in a manner that carried far too little force, Get us out of here! Now! The last thing he saw before passing out from cynosis was the Punishment flash as its core ruptured and exploded cataclysmically.
Four weeks later, in the Kassigainen, Captain Isiga Vesen of the Rokh class battleship the Markula scanned the empty space before her. It was a routine patrol of the Border Zone, one could never be too careful when it came to the traitorous Gallente after all. Though the task force of two Caracal class cruisers and a Blackbird class seemed to be somewhat of an overkill considering the amount of sensors crammed into portion of space, but she knew better than to question the orders of the Provists. People who did that tended to disappear. The Astrometrics Officer approached her with a data pad in one hand, interrupting he train of thought with a quiet, Maam, weve turned up something anomalous.
What is it? she responded.
We cant quite tell, but it has a battleship sized signature, she offered apologetically.
Very well, take us in to investigate.
A quick jump later revealed what appeared to be the mangled remains of an Armageddon class battleship. Send in the Onikira and start scanning it down, Vesen ordered. A few minutes later, the captain of the Onikiras voice issued forth from the communication station. We have a dead stick here maam. The ship appears to be the HMS Brosnan a Redeemer class Amarrian Navy vessel.
Well, it appears to have taken some sort of odd trauma. Holographics show hull fractures and stress patterns we cant identify.
Any trace of rail-plasma or artillery wounds?
This was certainly puzzling. How and why an Amarrian black ops vessel ended up here without being riddled full of plasma-burned holes was certainly an enigma to her.
Send the Kirku in to board; see if we can find anything out.
A few moments later, the Kirku, a Caracal class cruiser, had achieved soft dock with the Brosnan, and Petty Officer Megainan was preparing to slice through hull to gain access. After a relatively short time with a blowtorch, the hull gave way. The metal had cut surprisingly easy for some reason, and he began to enter the ship when he noticed there was no internal atmosphere, which explained the lack of life signs. He crawled through the hatch hed just created followed by his men, and emerged into the eerie environment of the dead ship. The bulkhead was bathed in a dim red light, and he turned his headlamp on. He immediately wished he hadnt as he found himself almost face to face with a floating corpse, still clutching to its Neocom, probably the wretched things last will. Alright men, spread out, do a standard sweep. Kakua, come with me.
The two men floated silently through the dead corridors towards the bridge, dodging corpses and floating debris on the way. When they finally arrived, he hooked up his secondary power supply into the main console to download the ships log. He flipped through it, past the mundane entries, to the end to try to get a clue to what happened. All he could tell from the fractured data was that the ship has suffered some sort of
well accident, and then underwent systemic progressive system failure, ultimately resulting in the life support giving out, whereupon it floated here. Hed have to wait for the nerds in tech to decipher the rest of it
In a clean meeting room, a small table surrounded with a few important officers watched the presentation of the Lead Scientist from the R&D dept. as he presented his findings, which were no less than astounding. The Brosnan and its task force had been moving to attack a ship identified only in the ships logs as the Significance before being subjected to some sort of explosion that made most Titan-mounted doomsday devices look small by comparison. From there it apparently limped back to empire space, slowly losing its cap as it went