Ah, EVE. A universe of politics, marketing, and war. Empires rise and fall, markets become vibrant and then die out like a flame fueled by paper money. There’s a series of checks and balances to keep (most) everything balanced and viable, and while not everyone is fully content with the state of the game, people enjoy different aspects of it in all areas of space. Then, there are Wormholes, and the strange creatures that inhabit them.
What goes on inside these wormholes? What keeps making that strange howling and whining noise whenever CCP messes with the wormhole’s appearance and visual effects? Nobody knows. Who—or what—is Bob? I intend to find out. I put together a travel and exploration fit for one of my favorite ships, the Astero. Time to find out what wormholes are all about.
As many of you may know, wormholes act as cosmic doorways to different areas of space. Sometimes they lead from one known system to another. Sometimes, however they lead to unknown areas of space. J-space, as it is commonly referred (and shall be called as such for the rest of this article) is truly bizarre, in more ways than one.
Firing up my probe-scanning tool, I spent quite a while just locating these doorways to unknown space. Eventually, I spotted one, and without hesitation I jumped through. Following all common logic and instinct, I warped to the nearest celestial body, and activated my ship’s cloaking device. It was at this point I realized two things: The wormhole I just used is not marked on my map, and I left my probes on the other side of it.
After spending thirty minutes swearing and composing a strongly-worded opinion on Reddit that I promptly deleted, knowing full well it would have earned me no end of mockery and disdain, I had to devise a plan of action. I knew speaking in local was basically a roundabout way of committing suicide in wormhole space, so that was out the window. There was self-destructing my ship, which was a straightforward method of suicide. This I preferred not to do. I decided to stay cloaked and observe my environment for awhile. The silence was equal parts haunting, and relaxing.
I fired up my directional scanner, noticing not one, but two active player owned star-bases, and two citadels within 10 AU of me. So wormholes, while being theoretically the harshest environment possible, has pilots not only living there, but thriving. No CONCORD, no guaranteed passage to high security and civilization, no active markets; how could anyone survive like this? I warped to 100km distance away from one of the star-bases, cloak still running. This is when I found out the truth: Wormhole pilots are all sophisticated rogue drones. I watched a Gila-class cruiser be assembled by smaller drones and it promptly warped away into parts unknown, no doubt off to combat the dreaded and mysterious sleepers.
It all made sense now. The Reddit posts, complaints in minute detail over wormhole appearances; every wormhole pilot is actually a near self-aware artificial intelligence attempting to lure the living into the depths of J-space. I had to escape via any means necessary. Thus, I began to journey deeper into the only wormhole I miraculously had access to. I continued jumping from wormhole to wormhole in an attempt to escape this artificial hell.
As I passed through different uncharted sectors, I bore witness to things… I went from utter quiet to a near deafening cacophony of screaming. Something about blue doughnuts and this content is superior in every way. Another wormhole. Strange chanting and hymns sung about the entity only known as Bob. Had I entered some sort of deep space cult shrine? No, I reminded myself, this was all just a looping program of an artificial creature.
At long last, I exited into a very familiar system in High-security space. After an agonizing thirteen hour journey, I ended only two systems away from where I started. Fatigued and near the breaking point, I began to scribe this piece. I only hope it will be taken seriously. Be warned, fellow pilots of EVE. There’s a rogue drone swarm out there, unlike any we’ve ever seen.