Azn jumped into Rens system and proceeded to scan through local while he waited for his jump cloak to clear. He saw a few war targets in system but proceeded to warp himself to Brutor Tribe treasury regardless, it didn't matter, he was in a covert ops frigate. Once he was within 2AU of the station he contacted the docking service manager, a pretty little Vherokior girl named Trei. They had messed around a few years back, when Azn first graduated the university, but that ended once he bought his first Hurricane and needed an XO.
"Well if it isn't Azn-with-beard" Trei said, "How have you been? I haven't seen your name off the docked list for at least a week, Thought you took a few bottles to your quarters and died, was gunna check on you after my shift." "Nah" replied Azn, " I jump cloned over to the frontlines and brought some of my leftover modules to sell here, getting kinda low on funds nowadays, I was here for a bit because....." "you started several wars, I know, I saw it on the CONCORD VALIDATED CORPORATION WAR LIST every morning for a week. Stirring up shit again ehh? Did you even undock?" "Oh shut the fuck up and let me in Trei, I'm sitting off the station cloaked, Hit me up after your shift, maybe well get some brews." "Roger" Trei said in a huff. "Aznwithbeard docking request accepted for hanger 4-4-2, talk to you later, Rens docking manager out."
He parked his cheetah next to his old wreathe, it had been sitting there unused since the bad days. The days when he ran around as one of Brutor Tribes faceless minions usually killing whoever was on top of their shitlist. "Must have podded that Zor guy enough times to pay the salary of half the station for a month" thought Azn as he stared at the rusty hauler. "And that fucking damsel whore, always hanging around in non-sanctioned stations in the "pleasure gardens" getting gangbanged until someone got a little too rough, then its a quick call to daddy and countless people murdered just evac her dumb ass. Fuck her. Fuck that"
As he got out from the pod and put his feet on the cold metal hanger surface, he took a look around. The hanger had seen better days and it was definitely showing. He grabbed one of the idiots who worked for him and told him to get everyone on the shift to report here, now. Normally Smith would handle this petty bullshit, but went to Balginia in a shuttle to pick up various wares from a friend she had living there.
A few minutes later Azn had 22 people standing before him. "Here's the deal" he started. "This place looks and smells like someone let loose a drunken slavehound and let it tear ass through here for a month, and I'm tired of looking at it" "Sir" said the chief "You locked a pack of slavehounds in the same container as the spiced wine you received as a gift from one of your Brutor agents a while ago. We didn't see the case because the corpse of atleastigotchicken was laying on top of it and no one wanted to touch it." Well, that explains that I guess, clean it up, NOW" The now angry Azn replied and started walking down his hanger.
As he walked down the line of ships he had in his hanger he started to get a little sad. The hanger had not even a fifth of its capacity that he had paid a premium for earlier in the year. Newports had set up shop in the hanger next door and Azn had been letting him pick through his modules for a while. In terms of ships all that was left was the newly built Scorpion, a Salvaging thrasher, I boxed up cyclone, a fit cyclone, a useless wreathe, a boxed up shuttle, and now a cheetah. The modules sorted in the station containers were even more sparse. Everything was out in Auga now, but he had no want to move everything again. He had moved so much. From here to Amarr in the bad days, then back, then to Providence when he flew under the Ushra'Khan banner, then back again. To Amamake when he was fixed on killing pirates, then all over New Eden when he flew with NOIR. When he left the mercs he moved it back here and then then joined with the militia and moved it into Auga. Azn was tired of moving. "Fuck it, I'll use what I have here, and by that time hopefully I'll have enough money to buy some more ships."
"Azn, its Trei, I'm coming down to your hanger to take you up on those brews" Azn heard as he pondered pushing the wreathe out into space. "Great, more lewd attempts to get me back into her quarters, maybe I'll call Smith.... "
Azn climbed the stairs to his Captains Quarters and from the balcony looked down at his hanger. He was tired of fighting for a cause that didn't want him. Didn't need him. He jumped into the shower and put his pants on just as Trei knocked on the door. He grabbed a shirt and threw on his boots and walked out of the hanger with her.
"No you dick we're not going to Slavehounds, its a hole in the wall."
"We're in Minmatar space, everything is a hole in the wall"
"The place is always empty, there's nothing to do there but drink"
"I don't see the problem"
"Lets go to the RUN Alumni Bar, it's bright, cheery, the drinks are good"
"I don't know...... that place is full of miners"
"They got a new barmaid with huge....."
"Fine lets go"
As they walked in he gave a nod to DMC, a pseudo-trainer still in RUN and someone with whom Azn has had some pretty interesting late night discussions with. He was at a table with the usuals, Mode, Gellic, Lynn, and some others. As he walked to the bar he saw Coronis Adair, his old CEO from Ushra'Khan. He gave a nod but it wasn't repayed, Coronis was just staring at the wall like it was melting.
"Why are you leaving?"
"The Amarrians just show up in numbers and push our forces back. Camp the station the guys STILL dock at. We form fleets to fight them head on.... Why? We have fast ships with great tracking and long range ammunition, we should be using more guerrilla tactics.... I don't understand the commanders."
"But its always been like that"
"I don't know I'm just tired of it. I've been fighting the good fight pretty much since I graduated, and what do I have to show for it? A few ships and some LP for blowing up a few ships. Great, now all I need is 750k ISK and I can buy a fecking +1 implant. Its bullshit"
"you're a noble pilot...."
"Fuck that, I'm tired of being noble, I want to be rich again. 70 Million ISK? Great, I can fit ONE FUCKING BATTLECRUISER."
The night continued on and more people started to show up. PVDN walked in with Jimmy 15 and his butt-buddy Josef, who were talking about their latest gank and claiming to be the greatest warriors since Captain Karishal Muritor. Fecking imbeciles. Then came in Menod and Miillia, and Azn knew it was time to go. The local scammers were coming in to try to pawn off some garbage and fuck with the recently graduated capsuleers.
"This is why I go to slavehounds, Miilla wouldn't even get through the door before he got punched in the face, and I'm pretty sure Jimmy would get raped in the bathroom. Lets go."
As they parted ways a worried Trei pondered how she could help. Azn seemed committed to walking away from his cause and she didn't know where he planned on going. The once proud warrior seemed broken, and she didn't know how to fix it.