Day 5: Cloaks only work if you use them

After the previous attempt fell flat, I had taken a day off. I was feeling pretty optimistic, and looking forward to easing back into the rythm … oh OK! Alliance has an Orca! What they missed him? he is warping fast? I’m confused, but join fleet and head the 2 systems over to join their camp in Uemissisen. I don’t see an Orca wreck and there is some talk about suspect and kill rights. I’m confused, but figure best not to inquire further. There is stuff coming in at a steady stream right at our modest little gate camp however

Condor (Frigate) 600k ISK
Vexor (Cruiser) 71.5 mil ISK
Caracal (Cruiser) 19.5 mil ISK + empty pod
Tristan (Frigate) 1 mil ISK + pod 50k
Keres (Electronic Attack Ship) 44.8 mil ISK + pod  400mil ISK (I didn’t get on the pod)
Vengeance (Assault Frigate) 51.2 mil ISK + empty pod (I got on this one)
Claw (Interceptor) 111.2 mil ISK + pod 131mil ISK (I didn’t get on that pod either)
Malediction (Interceptor) 39.4 mil ISK
Ferox (Combat Battlecruiser) 110.3 mil ISK

(The camp also pulls in a few destroyers that I miss, and of course several kills before I joined)


I can not express the unbridled joy I felt at killing ceptors. And hey, the claw cost as much as the Ferox battlecruiser. It was a good kill. The camp lasts a few hours, and some people come an go. Coms is mostly business with scouting reports, and discussion on fits and how much scan res one needs to catch a claw (in this case we had about 6k scan res on our boosted ceptors).

It was a good experience and I enjoyed the relaxing pace, and the crew seems competent and chill. That’s really all I can ask for. Well unless you spam local, then they declare war on you. That made me chuckle. It will be hilarious if that war results in any kills.

Eventually, the fleet break ups and we start to head our own ways. The one thing I’ve learned is if I go for a pod it will be empty, and if I don’t it will contain millions of ISK in implants far exceeding the cost of the ship.

I imagine Autoamton has been a bit bored, as her services weren’t really needed for the camp (they were a lot of eyes out). She has been roaming the backwater mission areas of Caldari space for several hours and come up empty. It is a bit hard to distinguish from her normal self with only non-verbal clues, but she seems to be in a funk. Luckily she spots a Viator (Blockade Runner) stationary 15k off a gate in Kakakela (2 systems from Jita), so that should make it all worth while. Provided he stays put.


It looks like he jumped into system, and then got distracted letting their natural gate cloak fade away. Reporting this in the alliance coms doesn’t elicit much excitement from the few remaining pilots. Can’t blame them, the things have a covert ops cloak and the pilot would have to be a corpse to not get out in time.

Viator 153.6 mil ISK pod 400 mil ISK (we’ll now he actually is a corpse)

Sadly the cargo hold is empty. But, I do take extra joy in killing ships that are said to be “safe”. And the pod loss will hurt, and luckily my bitter theory on pods is disproved. Automaton still seems grumpy; she forgot that’s my shtick. I guess she is just serving as counterpoint to keep us balanced against my abnormal good mood.

I head back to Sob, and chill for a bit figuring it is time to wind down for the night. But, Automaton starts to explore the Kaka-laka-whatever pocket, and finds three war targets. “Geesh! what did you go all over the galaxy for, they are all right here” (or at least that’s what I said in my head. I’m not stupid. Don’t poke a moody Automaton!)

Two are docked in the same station, and one goes off coms quickly. The other is very new to pod life, so I’m not expecting much from them. The third runs a mission in a Caracal in the dead end system of Todaki. I move up to block the exit (ignoring the other war target who is now in the same system as me), and before Automton can scan her ship out from all the background noise ( a very busy system) she comes back threw the gate right at me.


Caracal (cruiser) – 18.7 mil ISK (she has a warp scam fitted, maybe she was looking for a bit of trouble?)

Not long after Automaton runs into an enemy fleet. Not the scariest, but more than I want to try and take solo. Plus I’m pretty sure they are all going to be fit to kite, and could disengage whenever they chose… unlike me.


A fairly productive one, if not the most thrilling one. Also I don’t mind stating again, that taking out some ceptors instead of just watching them flutter by was very satisfying.

Day 5 Tally:
13 kills, 15 kill reports
11 ships, 4 pods (2 empty)
3 kill marks

Running Tally: 8/50
21 kills, 32 kill reports
18 ships (1 rookie), 13 pods (10 empty), 1 MTU
8 kill marks



Day 4: Zero

I give Automaton fair warning I’m in a mood, and power on systems.  Alliance coms are active, but the general channels are barren with most members hidden away in “Fleet 1”. Is that an open fleet? Should I invite myself? There are no broadcasts for fleet in the aptly named fleet finder.

I decide just dropping in and asking what’s up is a bit beyond my current comfort zone, and as the alliance seems to live in the general channels there might actually be some OPSEC thing going on. Automaton’s silence mocks my lack of social confidence.

Fine, I just don’t feel like being outgoing tonight. No, Automaton, I’m not lying to myself. She is getting uppity with her silent retorts, so I send her out on her rounds as I attempt to filter through the noise in the intel reports. Several Brave Alliance pilots docked in Piak, but no signs of activity. Station camping pilots that are almost certainly in frigs seems like a waste of time. I don’t spare them another thought.

Automaton makes a circuit around upper sections of Lonetrek, and the entire Korma pocket comes up empty. The plan is to head out towards the Forge, but on a whim I tell Automaton to swing back to the Piak area as the reports are a bit stale. And, truth be told I’m still lying to myself as I’m def giving the Brave pilots a second thought. Maybe they are in something besides frigs. I mean null sec pilots do use other ships.


She spots a Maller cruiser coming out of Black Rise region to Piak, and heading down the trade pipe. I catch up with him in Sobaseki (next door to the main trade hub of Jita) on the gate. After being inundated with dry intel reports, actually getting to shoot something seems pretty darn exciting. Sadly, I have to be content with “shooting something” as the Maller has no problem crashing the gate and denying me the kill. Really, not that surprising he managed to crash with a MWD, but that does nothing to curtail my mood’s slide straight into grumpy.

The Brave Alliance pilot in a rookie ship (I still refuse to call a corvette) cross jumping me and figuratively thumbing their nose at me doesn’t help either. Neither do the two Kestrels frigs that do the same thing a moment later. And, of course the flow of ceptor flutter that follows finally starts to make me ponder my deployment choices. Maybe I should swap into some small blingy frig catcher myself? Of course, that is no guarantee I’d actually catch any of this stuff.

No, Automaton, that isn’t sour grapes. Well, mostly its not. I also consider trading in some tank modules for a sebo (Sensor Booster) as a compromise, but opening up a huge EM resist hole in my shields seems less than ideal. And, again wouldn’t mean I’d necessarily catch anything.

I miss no less than 3 more frigs, before I decide it is time to move. I attempt to add some purpose to my hunt by picking some random targets from the war list that are known to run high level agent missions. Dropping a few locators and all of them come back Jita 4-4. Humph. Automaton quickly confirms they are not on coms.

Cross jump a Pandemic Hoard Helios (A small frig with a flair for exploration), and my targeting sensors just laugh at me when i ask them to do their thing. I can tell Automaton thinks I’m crazy, but I swear sometimes my targeting system just refuse to try. We both know it is pointless, but you still have to try.

Heading out to the Forge doesn’t go much better. A CO2 ceptor hear, a Shadow of Death ceptor there, everywhere a ceptor. It was down right depressing. It is enough to make one start calculating the cost of loosing a smart bombing cruiser to take a few of them out. The math of course doesn’t add up.

Speaking of loosing ships to Concord, a lone Tornado went and concorded it self on the gate right next to me. Can’t for the life of me see what he was shooting at, but he certainly didn’t kill anything. You’d think the 24 million ISK in loot I picked up would pick up my mood a bit, but I miss a Caracal cruiser as he jumps through the system.

Missed it. And how did I miss it? where was my scout? “I’m dropping YOUR loot off in  YOUR hanger at YOUR request”, would have been the perfect retort. But it is Automaton, so she just sits their stoically. Luckily, or it might make me feel like a pretty big ass. Whatever, I’m still blaming her.

We take the long way around, and come up to Permiter (citadel trade hub next to Jita) from the back side. Automaton reports a lot of  war targets… well in the trade citadels. Guess that is kind of like hanging around Jita 4-4. I don’t have the patience for it tonight, so I power down for the night.

Well I meant to, but whatever happened in the “Fleet 1” channel was done. And a new group was going hunting. The three of us fly back out to The Forge mission areas. A few hours of flying around and we manage… zero kills. We scare a Navy Drake pilot pretty good, but he managed to get to safety without a scratch.

We end the night with camping a Domnix pilot who never undocks. Small talk drifts all over the place, including discussion of the war with RE-AW. That’s a familiar name. They used to be EM (at the same time as me). Once again memories of Salina Lostchild come unbidden.

They still haunt me.

Day 4 Tally: Zero, Nothing, 0

Running Tally: 8/50
8 kills, 17 kill reports
7 ships (1 rookie), 9 pods (8 empty), 1 MTU
5 kill marks

Day 3: Meager effort gets meager results

Automaton has already scouted the Korma mission area, then ran down past Isanamo to Iidoken, and the long way back up to Uemisaisen stopping in every one off system on the way. But, hasn’t turned up anything worthy of mention. Just more ceptor/frig flutter. A Pademic Hord ceptor, a Astero frig from TEST, and so on.

With Lonetrek region coming up empty Automaton heads out down past Kino into the Citadel region wondering around aimlessly, before turning back towards Black Rise. The mission hub Piak along with my attention span once again comes up empty.

I’m loosing my mind. It has been hours with nothing to even encourage me to undock. I’m starting to see shapes on the inside of my eye lids as my imagination compensates for the lack of stimulus. I wonder if I should … do … something.

Automaton reports more frig flutter in Oipo, this time from a Circle of Two pilot. I ponder for the umpteenth time if I should setup a filter to ignore Automaton’s reports of frigs, given the fact that she blatantly refuses to stop sending them. At least that’s what I assume her silence in response to my suggestions implies. I guess that just fundamentally goes against her … her… goals? DNA? programming? purpose for life?

She’s now reporting a Merlin stationary on a system gate in Isinokka. Just floating there 15k off the jump point. Most likely they fell sleep in pod and just let their gate cloak fade. 8 systems away. What are the odds it is still there when I get there? Pretty good: Merlin (300k ISk – empty fit, empty cargo) Pod (empty). I guess it is still a kill mark, and I’m now successfully fighting off insanity from boredom. So, there is that.


Automaton’s silent stream of reports has a greater sense of smugness about it. Yes, fine I won’t filter out your frig-ing intel reports (pun intended). Happy? I’m pretty sure she is happy. She seem to oscillate between “sarcastic emo” and “smugly content”, but she never really seems unhappy. And no, I’m not just projecting.

A Test pilot (with mining barge losses on his KB) is docked bottom station in Uemi, and that kind leaves me hanging out at the gate if i don’t want to spook him. A ceptor from PH jumps through my modest little gate camp (that I of course don’t catch), and that gets me thinking. With all the ceptor flutter I’m bound to get buzzed by a Test pilot at some point, and so I power down to hide my presence from the local net.

I once again curse my imagination and the shapes on the back of my eyelids while attempting to will the pilot into undocking. “It’s ok, no one is watching. You can totally go mine in the middle of the trade pipe. Go for it.”

It works? He undocks in a Noctis (an industrial ship specialized in salvaging). Not, a skiff but far better than a Merlin. I power back on my systems and jerk to an alert state as my ship decelerates hard and I land on the gate. Damn, he executes a perfect cloak mwd and warp trick. I never even got to pretend to lock him up.

More ceptor flutter passed by me on their way into Uemi. And then some out of Uemi. Got a slasher, magnate, capsule, and ares.. all from the same corp. They are just kind of hanging around. I think I have a Hawk stashed somewhere near by, maybe I should fetch it?

My coms system alert me that one of them has invited me to a  private intel channel, and the 5 of us have a laugh as it becomes clear he invited instead of reporting. They don’t feel like chatting, and switch channels when I don’t immediately leave.

I park up in a citadel to take a nap, hoping things are more lively when I wake. But, not surprisingly I’m once again flooded with reports of flutter as I travel to the Osmon area. Nothing to be done about it. For now. In passing through Josameto I run across a corp mate in local coms who has a suspect flag. My inquires remain unanswered as he appears to be taking his own nap, or at least feels no obligation to relieve my curiosity.

I continue out to the backwaters of Lonetrek when reports come in from the alliance intel of PIRATE forces hitting a custom office in Perimeter.  One of our more aggressive individuals asks for a warp in beacon so he can try and do a run by snipe of some of their support. Sounds a bit risky to me, and I … will just stop right here as Automaton has just torn off towards Perimeter.

Kind of hard to hunt without a scout, and my snipping battleship isn’t anywhere near by. It would appear I’m sidelined for this engagement. I wait for Automaton to have her fun without me, and pretend I’m not bitter. It seems to be working.

PIRATE finishes up their bashing activities before everyone can get in position, so Automaton is free to go check out the mission hubs again. I let her know that one Merlin asleep at the controls isn’t going to get us to 50 kills. Her silence speaks volumes about her apathy, and reminds me that it isn’t “us” that set that goal.

A war target who winds up clone jumping out to null, reports of PIRAT moving around the Jita and New Cal area, and of course more ceptor flutter is all that I have to pursue. I call it a night, and power down. Rather slow night, but at least I didn’t have to jump all over the galaxy. Now Automaton? I think she easily hit triple digit number of gate jumps and all we have to show for it is an empty Merlin.

We’ll try again tomorrow night.

Day 3 Tally:
1 kill, 2 kill reports
1 Ships, 1 pods (empty)
1 kill mark

Running Tally: 8/50
8 kills, 17 kill reports
7 ships (1 rookie), 9 pods (8 empty), 1 MTU
5 kill marks

Day 2: Dock it or lose it

The second day. This time I’ve cleared my schedule for the night and should be set for the long haul. Some decent success last night, but hopefully I can eek out at least a repeat performance. I’ll just, join the fleet and … huh.

It seems the alliance isn’t in Caldari space tonight, but out in Amarr space in the Domain region. Heading out that way sounds like a good idea, but on the other hand, there are probably quite a few war targets here in Lonetrek. Besides, Automaton is already sweeping across the region to test that very assumption.

While she does her thing, I head to back to Sobaseki to get my bearings, and cross jump two raptors from pandemic horde. I have no intention in chasing interceptors fluttering about, as I like to participate in activies that I can at least pretend might be successful. Automaton reports a war target (from Test) in Korsiki (which is next to Osmon, a system that sees heavy use from missioners) and that sounds like it has some potential… oh never mind, in an interceptor. This seems to be a common theme;  ceptors everywhere! It is enough to make one contemplate some sort of fast tackle, but that has never been my specialty. For now, I’ll have to give ceptor flutter a pass.

As she heads back towards Soba, she reports a pilot (with less than 1 month time in pod) docked in a station. Probably not worth camping the system in hopes he undocks… moving on. Automaton finds more ceptor flutter before heading out. She is going to tour the backwaters of Lonetrek checking every system with a lvl 4 security agent. I question her sanity, but her silence confirms that isn’t an issue.

Apparently, wondering aimlessly isn’t the most effective hunting technique as she comes up short before heading off to Black Rise. She reports ShanBin Xu in Uuhulanen; a quick check at his profile indicates Dominion Alliance. Well, isn’t that a familiar alliance name. I pull myself away from the bar in Sobaseki, and as I don’t have any issues finding my pod, I figure I’m good to fly.

I fully intended to make a beeline for the region, but I must have passed out a for a little bit sitting in my pod goo. Automaton’s report that ShanBin logged off and no other targets in the constellation (well, except for one incident of ceptor flutter from Test alliance, yet again) wakes me up. Just like her to ruin a good nap with the inconsequential.

As the grogginess fades, I find myself a bit discouraged. I probably shouldn’t have expected to just run into war targets in Caldari space at my pleasure; but I kind of did. Several kill reports are posted in alliance chat for the fleet out in Amarr space, and a tinge of regret creeps into my mood for not racing to join them earlier. They seem to be breaking up, so probably not worth the trip out there at this point.

Automaton finds Hector Bladeder in Oipo, over 6 years in pod and active in null sec gang fleets. She pins down his location to the 4th station, which only has lvl 3 agents. Thirty minutes goes by with no activity, but without better prospects I head out that way (despite not being able to come up with a reason for him to be at that station). I cross jump a Code freighter gank squad in Isanamo, and am surprised to find them set orange. There appears to be some bad blood between Marmites and Code. I’m spared having to think too deeply about that, as Automaton reports yet more ceptor flutter (this time from Pandemic Horde).

A horde pilot enters Oipo and stays around for a while, but Hector goes offline. I figure the horde guy might still be worth the trip, but as I leave Lit and jump into Elonaya, a Merlin takes the jump with me. Unsurprisingly I miss the tackle on the Merlin, but surprisingly he seems to be on auto pilot. The Merlin’s speed (warp and sub-warp) are highlighted in the fact that it took me 6 systems to catch back up with him: Merlin (600k ISK) and pod (empty). As the pod goes squish, the horde pilot in a prospect comes out of the gate and tears off before I can even think about locking it.


Third kill mark for Negligee III

Hector is back online, and that means I’m kind of stuck in this dead end pocket if I don’t want to tip my hand by showing myself. So, I hang out tethered to a citadel hoping he undocks at some point. Automaton is scanning down a random Orca for some reason and isn’t responding to my simple query of “why?”

I consider pressing the matter, but I find myself moved out of alliance coms into another channel with Murdock Luther and General Marrtok. They want to talk about the loot drama from last night. Some discussion and retelling, but the basic sentiment is that it isn’t the loot culture for the group, and Murdock apologized to us for having to endure that. I wasn’t feeling like I needed an apology and was just hoping this would go away. But, it shouldn’t be a revelation that a group of mercs consider loot distribution to be a big deal. Murdock said he’d bring it up with Tora, and within 24 hours, Lonetrek Salvage and Scrap left the alliance. Apparently a difference in hunting strategy, loot culture, and disagreement over the ban on fighting on the Jita 4-4 undock all added up to incompatibility. There doesn’t seem to be any bad blood over it; just a parting of ways.

The alliance fleet in Amarr has broken up for the night and General Marrtok is back in Caldari space. We talk a bit about our starts in merc life and the glory days of can flipping (before concord changed the criminal status rules). It is weird having someone to small talk with while waiting for targets to do stuff. I wonder if Automaton feels neglected as I haven’t thrown a barb her way in a while. I can’t tell if her silence is an indication of her sulking or of her drowning in apathy.

I give up on Hector, head back to Soba, and manage to cross jump with a Prorator transport class ship. I curse my lack of patience internally and blame Automaton for not scouting ahead outwardly. I can almost hear her shrug through her silence, but she is right. What are the odds I’d have been able to catch a covert ops cloaky ship at the gate?

I take up position at a citadel near the Soba gate in Isanamo as Automaton watches the other side… does this make me a trade hub camper now? I’m surprisingly OK with it either way. I pass the time by picking random war target corps and attempting to do some background research. Maybe I’ll find something useful? It could happen.

A war target capsule is on auto pilot right in front of me. It doesn’t take much effort to make it go squish, and as I can’t think of a reason not to: Pod (empty) While I slow boat over to examine the corpse floating in space, a cloaky Tengu jumps through and I miss tackle. Yep, cloaky stuff is as safe from me as ceptor flutter.

General Murdock says he is heading out to Osmon to check that out and I invite myself along. I’m shocked when he reports finding a Gilia cruiser in Inaya as the area was clear earlier. “That’s how it goes some nights” he claims. True…  should I just have Automaton run loops through all the mission hubs non stop?

General has located the Gilia in a mission, but the target warps off to a station… but he does not dock. He just sits there. We move our ships up to the gate in the neighboring system in hopes of catching him when he returns to Osmon to turn in the mission. But, he isn’t moving and still isn’t docked. Automaton passively targets him and scans out fitting. Confirmation that he has patched his EM hole in his shields so I switch back to scourge missile to apply better damage. He’s still just sitting there.

I ask General if he thinks the guy actually left the controls. It has been a good 10 minutes at this point. General says he is happy to wait, but is happy to go for it too. It is my call. I like to think of myself as patient, but apparently not. Gilia(237m ISK, 4.8m ISK loot) Pod (55m ISK) To add insult to injury, Automaton scanned down the guy’s MTU (8.5m ISK)


Heading back, crossed jump Astero but neither of us got a lock. It is late, and things are slow, so we call it a night. Not a bad ending for the night and I’m grateful General let me invite myself, as he clearly didn’t need my help to shoot an AFK Gilia. Still, I did contribute… or rather Automaton did by scanning down the MTU.

It is going to be hard getting use to flying in a fleet and dealing with conflicting feelings of being a mooch from time to time. Automaton’s silence screams her frustration, but I resent the notion that I mooch off her as she hasn’t killed a ship…ever.

Day 2 Tally:
4 kills, 6 kill reports
2 Ships, 3 pods (2 empty), 1 MTU
2 kill marks

Running Tally: 7/50
7 kills, 15 kill reports
6 ships (1 rookie), 8 pods (7 empty), 1 MTU
4 kill marks

Day 1: Dampen this!

As I power up my ship’s systems, the date display mocks me more pointedly than Automaton ever did. February 5th. Four days have passed with out any combat activity, much less kills. Fifty kills. I can already feel the tug of my inner oppressiveness fixating.

I can’t just undock and fly into the fray. There is setup for secure com channels, authorization needed for Automaton as a scout, and you know, stuff. I find myself reading the rules again and my stomach turning. The rules are simple and boil down to “be considerate.” A very reasonable thing, and really, it isn’t the prospect of conforming to a dictated code of conduct, but simply the reality that I will have to work with others – that tears at me. I mean I work with Automaton all the time, but it is kind of hard to count that as building up experience in social interactions.

Initially I’m just trying to figure out where my alliance mates are and what the SOP is rather than hunting down targets. I leave Automaton behind to sort herself out, and make my way into Sobaskei as alliance coms warn of a target crashing the gate.

I land with 5 other pilots and we just missed an Enyo. Am I officially a trade hub camper now? The alliance actually does a lot to encourage their pilots to hunt, but when there are over 2 dozen war targets sitting in Jita 4-4 it seems almost neglectful to not try and intercept some of them.

Five minutes later, scouts report a Macherial battle ship attempting to leave Jita VIA the Perimeter gate. I’ve been active less than 7 minutes; the pace is overwhelming. We get waived off in route as the pilot is no longer a valid war target. With over 100 wars there are bound to be some expiring. I wonder if this pilot realizes the margin by which he escaped.

I warp off gate to a citadel and try to help kick start Automaton into her scouting role. She is having trouble interfacing with the alliance channels. Luckily, before I’m saddled with assisting in logistical matters, an Algo destroyer jumps the gate and I take the short warp to join the fight. I make the pod kill. Empty pod, but it is my first kill of the month and first kill as a Marmite.

As I try and contemplate the significance, or lack there of, Automaton finally gets her systems synced up and her standings adjust. She can now see our enemies, and without prompting, begins sweeping across Caldari space.

Her independence is a blessing as a Tengu is caught and ping-ponged across the Jita-Prim system gates. He manages to get his cloak to engage and is lost to us. A few minutes later he reenters Jita from the Niyabainen gate. Comms is full of chuckles as someone proclaims “That cheeky bastard.” Active comms? Camaraderie? Interesting.

Needing to slow the pace down and give myself some time to acclimate to pod life, I pull out towards the Piak mission hub area. Should I tell someone I’m doing that? Sure, why not? “O.k.” … and I got a response. O.K. This can work.

Automaton spots an Arazu in Piak, but is just passing through and at a good speed. I went for it anyway, and they simply cloaked and ignored my feebleness. Alliance comm chatter dies down as the shift change approaches and people begin to go offline.

Three war targets in Litura, and all from the same corp. I start to get excited as this might be something worth … and there they go in shuttles.

I move up to the Litura gate (in Uemi) anyway as it is a good choke point. My overview is different somehow. A blue star, what’s a blue star? My confusion is fleeting as recognition of the alliance symbol crystallizes. I quietly join my fellow Marmite in their gate camp.


I’m luckily spared the awkwardness of trying to interact with my wing mate and develop “camaraderie”, when comms erupts with report of a tackled Obelisk back in Sobaskei. You know, the system I just left. Freighters are even more special than an Orca and I’ve been known to go through some effort for an Orca kill. Freighters can take a while to go down so there is a chance I’ll make it there in time, and maybe I can actually be useful in covering the loot ship or something.  Automaton’s silence once again mocks my rationalization, as apparently I’m already feeling bad about whoring on kill mails I don’t even have.

The enemy pilot, one Obelisk Camel, is very much not flying an Obelisk freighter but a Stratios Cruiser. Obelisk, either in desperation or out of frustration, drops comms leaving his ship unpowered. Due to the disconnect, Kikah is able to hold him long enough for me to steal some of the credit on the kill mail. There is some concern over the likelihood of the escape pod actually escaping while under automated controls and a call for a prober goes out. Three of us hold the ship in place with scrams and disruptors with restraint as we wait for the prober to arrive.

Truth be told, I don’t have much restraint as I do fire off a volley of missiles. You see, the Stratios had begun to regen some shields and … what? I already admitted I failed at the restraint thing. The enemy pilot manages to get back online, and the need for such restraint passes. Stratios (1.3 b ISK, Loot: 884 m ISK) pod (empty).


There is back and forth over loot distribution which I gladly bail out of, happy to just get on the kill mail. The dispute seems lighthearted on the surface but there is some serious undertones; “well, that just discourages me from fleeting up with you then.” I successfully stay out of it, but I would feel bad taking a cut personally.

Things are a bit slow as the shift change continues and I find myself reflecting on how such a small number of pilots are effectively disrupting the logistics of so many. But, Automaton still not having much patience for my moments of reflection, reports war targets in Litura. I head to the Uemi-Lit gate and once again find myself joining my fellow Marmite silently in a gate camp. I ponder his selection of a Garmur Frig, as I’ve always wanted to try one of those.

Once again I’m spared any awkward attempts at coordination by a war target jumping into us. My combat sensors register the Garmur’s lock well before mine, but I lock and get point as well. He is 15k off and I’m worried he’ll crash the gate. My worries are quickly put to rest as he red boxes me. I approach as explosive rings envelope his shields from my first missile volley. A Celestis cruiser? I make a mental note to look up the ship type.

He is attempting to sensor dampen me and sick drones on the Garmur. Not a bad plan of action really; take me out of the fight and pop the Gurmon. Of course, the sensor dampening doesn’t do anything once I already have lock, and I do. Celestis (26m ISK, 8.5m ISK Loot) He didn’t make much effort to get his empty pod out. I notice a yellow flashy Gaurdian on scene and it appears he is repairing the Gurmur. Is he one of ours? I guess I shouldn’t shoot him.


My queries are met with confusion. “Not my Guardian.” “A random guardian?” “Maybe it was a blue, they sometimes rep us.” What? Random reps from passing logi on gates? That’s pretty sweet and unexpected. All attempts to give the guy his share of the loot fail as he doesn’t seem to understand what I’m talking about. I wonder if he even realized I was there, but finally my own realization kicks in. There are two people who’s name start with “General.” But, it is quite clear neither of them care about 4 mil isk.

I’m pretty excited about a kill I actually contributed too, but before I can finish that thought, a call goes out for a Phobos, Proteus, and Guardian team that are working in The Forge region. There is a lot of dithering and back and forth about how to bait them but in the end we send me (the new guy in a shield buffer fit Tengu) and a Sacrilege (Active Armor) in as bait with a single neutral Guardian nearby. For back up, we got a Balghorn battleship (as our anti-logi platform) and another Sacrilege.

Automaton’s silence underscored my own personal feelings about using a shield buffer as bait with an armor logi but I’m not going in alone. And that may have been the problem as the enemy ran rather than even thinking about taking the bait. We did grab a rookie ship (and pod) on the way back. The kill-board counts it, but I can’t bring myself to.

Things seem to finally wind down with just a few failed bait attempts and pot shots around Jita and the never ending stream of interceptors streaming down the trade pipe. It is far later than I realized, and I’m overdue. I didn’t call Squeaky to give her a heads up, so there goes all that credit I built up over the last few months for staying home. That didn’t last long.

Determined to find her own prey and actually hunt down a target, Automaton continued to roam the backwaters of Caldari space. And 2 hours later, I was aware of two things: first, you apparently can’t bank credit for being around like a “normal person”; and second, there was a mining barge in space that needed my attention. Procurer (27m ISK, 4m ISK loot) pod (empty).


“die with child and parent” – Qzzz LUKA

That might actually be my first pure hate mail. Usually there is at least some discussion point. I’ve always been amused at the expression “your tears fuel my ship”, but never thought of myself as personifying that. But, I’ll abashedly admit, that mail made me down right giddy.

Tally: 3 kills (9 counting empty pods and the rookie ship)


I spent a lot of time leaning against the railing of the balcony in my captain’s quarters staring out at my newly commissioned Negligee III and pondering my new undertaking (50 kills in Feb). Maybe if I had done that less, and did the logistics it wouldn’t have come to this.


Scanning the mail for the dozenth time. Reading and analyzing the requirements and demands. The price of admission is high, but not wholly unexpected. I can swallow turning over Automaton’s API key without much effort (she hasn’t raised an objection at least). But giving up my API key? There are a lot of private communications and dealings that shouldn’t be exposed. The idea of culling my mail and losing those records in order to keep them private is upsetting. More than a little, but again expected.

How did I get to this point? It was a fairly simple question “how do you intend to achieve these 50 kills?” An obvious question and yet I wasn’t expecting it. I had given no thought on how to actually accomplish my self imposed task. Die’s question was a genuine one and was accompanied with his initial offer to participate in my schemes. Automaton’s silence mocked my lack of forethought and planning. Her support was timid and begrudgingly given.

I wasted the precious weeks of January. I hadn’t scouted new targets. I hadn’t primed the intel streams. I hadn’t even filed the paperwork with Concord for new war declarations. It would be mid February before things would be ready, and the wardec gamble is just that. Fifty kills with that method? Well it has happened, but I’ve only had that kind of payout from it once and it certainly didn’t happen with zero preparation. A more realistic appraisal for business as usual would be a dozen skirmishes with a half dozen kills.

How serious am I about the arbitrary 50? Pretty serious it seems, as I sit here staring at my application. Target corps often ignore wardecs from the bigger merc groups with a simple warning of “stay out of the trade hubs.” However, when SRE B decs them, they send out detailed warnings with our pilot names and ship types, ordering their people to avoid us. Because they know from our kill board we will show up in their home system. The validity of those strategies isn’t really the point, but that they seem to be the default playbook for most groups. Therefore a merc alliance, or rather their kill board and reputation (even if undeserved) for trade hub camping, could act as a cover. But SRE B’s activity and size means she isn’t an attractive acquisition for an alliance.

My colleagues, my brothers and sisters, aren’t so ready to join me this time. They would return to pod life for SRE B glory, but to fly under another’s banner? Under another’s rules and assimilate another’s culture? I can’t blame them for sitting this one out. Yet, one month to check out how the other side lives seems like a thing worth doing. Spectre’s quip of living vicariously through me leaves a lingering smile on my face. I’ll return to SRE B one day, and be welcomed back as if I never left. There is a strength that comes from that.

Truthfully I often share in preconceived perceptions of these mercs with little to no personal knowledge to justify such judgments. Even cultivating that I was somehow a different breed, a better one at that. Trade hub camping or not pulling in 5k kills a month with a 95+% efficiency ratting is a worthy accomplishment SRE B has never dreamed to aspire too. I don’t think that speaks bad of SRE B, just highlights the difference in scale and objectives. After all we accomplished things in SRE B that large merc alliance aren’t able to (or at least don’t get to).

Anyway, that is how I got to this point. This is how I rationalized away my reservations. This is thought process that lead to surrendering my API key (and Automaton’s) and agreeing to follow the beat of someone else’s drum. I mean Feburary is a short month anyhow. This act alone isn’t an act of surrendering my ideals and identity, but I do feel the need to be vigilant against such a thing.


What will one month as a Marmite be like?

The Recap and Rebirth

This post, is a rather dry retelling of recent past events, and I do apologize and understand if you prefer to skip this particular post and the end to a perfect record. For which I would really like to find an escape goat, but have as of yet not thought of one.

A new war comes to SRE B and one with a purpose, of sorts. The enemy has a particular Nightmare Battleship that it would be better if they didn’t have anymore (one that survived a previous war apparently). A primary target, isn’t a unique thing in our history but it is on the rare side. I’m sure it is no surprise that normally I don’t care what the target is, just that there is one.

Intel is unusually detailed, and that can only be a good thing right?


(Map modified from dotlan)

The war was a rather lengthy war that alternated between lukewarm and ice cold. It was a frustrating war, not just because I had my most expensive losses ever (2 most actually), but because of the mind games involved. At one point we managed to bluff an enemy force that out numbered us in a ratio of 7 to 1 (and boasted several battleships to our cruiser gang), simply by charging at them. They assumed that if we thought we could handle it, then we must have a trick up our selves and ran for it. We had to be ready to go with an instant response fleet to handle their escalation, and needed complicated baiting tactics. But, if we could pull it off an epic battleship brawl was a worthy prize. Log-in traps were setup, but things never really all came together to bring us the brawl we longed for.

In the opening engagements my Tengu went down. It has been over 2 and half years since she was commissioned. She has earned back her cost in loot several times over, and was responsible for scores of kills (108 kills including pods).

I wish I could delve into a detailed post with damage charts, and detailed fleet movements, and chronicle the last glorious moments of my favorite ship. But, really all I got is “I swear I hit dock, and the weapons timer had cleared”. I even heard the automated voice assistant informing my docking request had been accepted, but to my chagrin I hung in space another few seconds. I can’t complain too much, as I’ve certainly been on the benefiting side of such station timing irregularities more than my fair share. Plus, I really was being stupid and cocky to undock and agrees a second time against that fleet. Negligee my Tengu class Strategic cruiser (467 mil isk, 18 mil loot).

Shortly after I fleeted up with Die and between his tempest and my drake we did this (4 kills, no losses):
Rupture Cruiser
Vexor Cruiser
Caracal Cruiser
Arbitrator Cruiser

Several others got away, and lots of taunting and failed baiting on both sides. The next major engagement was far more exciting, and happened more organically as we took on two heavy assault cruisers that were taunting us and enemy reinforced with battleships and cruisers ad hock.

Killed: Nightmare (the nightmare), hurricane, myrmidon, zealot, brutix navy issue.
Forced off (them): Deimos
Forced off (ours): Fleet Issue Tempest
Lost: Tengu (Mine sadly), Thorax
Remaining on grid: A lone underestimated Gila Cruiser
Battle Report

The lone enemy Gilia was left holding the field, but chose not to loot and skedaddled before we could reform. Not sure why we were left the spoils, but we happily looted the entire field. A 2/1 in isk destroyed and the primary target and entire goal of the war achieved (Nightmare destroyed). We were prepared to call this an unqualified success. But, i’d be lying if I said it didn’t sting a little to loose my second major ship in so short a time.

I asked Automaton if it made me petty to dwell over my personal losses and victories over the corp’s but her silence told me she clearly didn’t give a shit. She doesn’t have much patient for my moments of personal reflection. Which I find rather hypocritical of someone who hasn’t spoken a word in over 9 years.

Eventually our target joined with an alliance, and found themselves the target of several active hunting merc groups. The area was just a little too crowded for us, and we bowed out. Telling ourselves we’ll file them away for another day.

Despite being ISK positive, kill positive, and generally controlling the are of operation (when we were active) the war didn’t have a “we won this!” quality to it. Certainly didn’t feel like we lost, just that there was a lot left on the table.

The war shows up as three separate acts due to a break in the middle around the holidays and the war getting transferred to the alliance as a whole when they joined:

1st stage (13 kills and 1.4bil isk to 3 kills and 957mil isk)
2nd stage (2 kills 2.5 mil isk, to 0)
3rd stage (6 kills 272 mil isk, to 0)
Total: 1.7 bil isk and 21 kills to .96 bil isk and 3 kills.

I bemoan the lost opportunity to chronicle in detail the numerous games of cat and mouse, mind games, baiting, taunting, Automaton’s smugness, my bitterness, or the cold shoulder at home for my absenteeism. The good news, besides the bit of credit I may have built up at home for my time out of pod, is I have a new Tengu. Thus begins the story of the third instantiation of my Tengu class ship Negligee. Hopefully she lives longer and does more than the glorious charge of the 2nd, but I doubt I’ll surpass the longevity of the 1st.

To add a driving force I’ve decided quite arbitrary that I will achieve 50 kills in February. A quick look at my kill board stats will show that I have done that in the past (2/38 months of activity). Anyway, maybe this time I can keep a regular log of events.

Stay tuned for the log of Negligee III and her adventures.

Old wounds

Sorting through my collection of modules, ammo, and other assorted items strung across empire space, my mind wanders pondering a conversation I had recently. I’m fairly chatty as mercenary types go, and occasionally spout off at people I recognize in local. A vain attempt trying to pretend I have some social skills, and yet it catches me off guard when others do the same to me.

Ferista Nhey – waves > Myth.
MythBlood – smiles back > Hi Ferista
MythBlood > How’s third shift treating you?
Ferista Nhey > I’m not sure I even know what it is supposed to be like anymore, my time so limited. But it is quiet.
Ferista Nhey > Arranging a mineral trade now.
Ferista Nhey > And heading to pick some up nearby.
MythBlood > That’s the good thing about GRD, it always runs. Somehow it keeps turning out ships, and roaming the war zone.

I can’t think of Gradient without thinking of Salina. When she biomassed herself it nearly destroyed Squeaky… I took it hard as well. I see Ferista is a manager of 3rd shift from her public profile. Salina was 3rd shift. I wonder if Ferista knew her, maybe even managed her. I know Salina got an award, a star of gradient? a rising star? I can’t recall anymore the name; it was important once. Do they ever think of her?

Ferista Nhey > I leave the roaming for those with the aptitude.
Ferista Nhey > But I will always do my best to take care of the other.
MythBlood > I don’t know if it takes a special something to roam, or if it takes something missing where it aught to be to roam.
Ferista Nhey  – smiles> And with that I head out system for a bit.
Ferista Nhey > You’re right, though.
MythBlood > laters

I found myself spiraling down into a depressing sea of emotions I haven’t visited in a long time. Salina died long before she actually committed suicide. She was a walking corpse when we found her during a boarding action in Amamake. I executed her killer on the spot with my side arm. It was an impulsive action that let me cope with what I witnessed, but robbed her a chance at revenge for those same horrors.

I thought getting her into the academy and pod life could bring her back to life or at least restore her humanity. Throw her into the war and let her shoot some Amarr. I would have wanted revenge and did what I could to give Salina that. I know now she didn’t want revenge. She just wanted peace.

I turn my attention back to my assets list.  Well, assets might have been too generous a term. War loot often consists of junk modules and ammo, although there were a few faction modules as well. It would offend my Caldari heritage too much to simply trash it all. If I could ever bother to get it to market there was a good chunk of ISK for the effort.

I find myself starring at a report for a station in Ammold. I don’t dock in Ammold. No matter what the report says, I don’t have assets there. The Night Light, a scimitar logistics class cruiser, is all that remains of Salina. Her legacy. A ship I can’t even pilot, but can’t bring myself to sell. She was given it by Gradient, and was so happy and proud.

I can feel the irrational anger swell within me. I haven’t any right to be angry with her, but that seems better than the alternative. Squeaky let her guilt consume her for far too long. We did all we could, and knowing that there wasn’t any more we could do didn’t stop the guilt from coming. It defied all logic. It just was. Squeaky and I had taken her in to our home, made her family, and loved her as such. Our pleas to the court were rejected, and legally we couldn’t stop her.

Concord is quite clear that every pod pilot has the right to biomass. For society of immortals an option to biomass make sense. The right of choice. I always thought of it as something necessary, that of course had to be. But for one of my own? For Salina? How could they let her do that. She wasn’t in a sound state of mind.

I close the assets interface in a defeated gesture. Hell, with the rate of inflation it might actually be a good investment to leave it all where it is. I haven’t consolidated the horde since that day I got the notice from Concord confirming Salina had indeed carried through with her plans and I now had an inheritance. That’s why there is years worth of this stuff. Maybe if I contract the Night Light back to Gradient I can move on. Get some closure. Maybe someone in Gradient could make a difference with it.

I check the time and realize I’m already late for my dinner engagement. I’ve manage to waste a way the evening without accomplishing anything. Well, not nothing. I did go back and pop that MTU2 from last night.

Another spin at the slot machine. MTU (12.5 m ISK, 1 m ISK loot). I wouldn’t exactly call that a payout, but something I guess.

Locked Out

It has been a while since I’ve updated, and the opportunity to chronicle several engagements has slipped past. But, it hasn’t exactly been an explosion-filled couple of months, and I’ve spent far more time out of pod than in. Looking to adjust that balance I reconnect with Automaton and we head out to find … well, I don’t know what. But something.

SRE B has been enjoying an extended period without wars, and the intel streams will take a while to bring back up from their dormant state. Even if that wasn’t so, Concord requires a 24 hour notice period for wars. I have no intention of clearing out the cobwebs while trolling in a frigate through the war zone. That leaves really only one option, and not surprisingly Automaton is already out scanning down cosmic signatures. I can feel her smugness eking across the cosmos. Fighting the urge to scream “you don’t know me!”, I undock and head out to rendezvous a few systems away where she is already pinpointing the location of a wormhole.

I haven’t had the best of luck lurking in w-space in the past. It just seems to be the ultimate playground for small gang action, and I’ve been having a hard time with my solo trespasses. Well, solo-ish. Automaton is useful, if not actually required, for spelunking into w-space. She just doesn’t count for much once the missiles start flying. Well, she counts. I mean she can provide a warp beacon to bounce off, and she…

I can tell I’ve spent too much time planet side when I start trying not to offend anyone and sugar coat stuff. How hard is it to say “She ain’t a combat pilot”. Anyway, my lack of enthusiasm doesn’t go unnoticed, and Automaton points out the 3 Mobile Tractor Units we have on scan. Those loot slot machines haven’t provided a jackpot for me yet, but I enjoy the gamble.

MTU1 is out in empty space several AU away from anything. MTU2 is a dead space pocket, with no gate and several structures. On warp in, some EM Priestess attempts to spring an ambush on Automaton (and we have no intention of doing some pod pilot’s work and clearing out the area). MTU3 is behind an acceleration gate but with no ships on short range scan. I guess w-space holds more appeal than shooting abandoned MTUs, but we book mark them for later. I make the self-fulfilling prophecy of an MTU kill or two tonight and no other action. Automaton does not seem impressed with my prophetic abilities.

The worm hole appears empty based of the initial d-scan, and I orbit the hole cloaked while Automaton scouts the system. There is an unoccupied citadel at the far end of the system, and an empty POS on this end. No ships, and a handful of cosmic signatures. Automaton brings her probes in close and starts working through the gas and relic sites to get to the static wormholes. A Heron class frigate flies past me and jumps to high sec. I only saw Automaton’s probes on scan, so I guess they had the chain previously scanned out? The pilot is from an active w-hole group and clearly not a resident of this hole.

Figuring it is a good bet the chain is pretty well cleared out, or at the very lest my only hope would be running into a dozen of their T3 cruisers, I have Automaton pull in probes and I continue camping the entrance. Maybe the pilot will come back from a trip to the market with goodies. Automaton heads back into high sec to shadow the pilot, and the minutes tick by.

The pilot isn’t at Hek (the nearest trade hub), and so we abandon the half-baked scheme in favor of fulfilling my prophecy. At the acceleration gate to MTU3 sits two Maelstroms idling at the gate. I swap configuration to my high sec Tengu fit and head for the gate just minutes after they take the gate into a deeper pocket. I’m hoping two battleship pilots will feel overconfident against a lone Tengu cruiser, and after a few pot shots at their MTU maybe they’ll do something one of us will regret.


No go. The gate is locked and I sure don’t have a key. I settle for popping MTU1 taking a spin of the slot machine, but no payout (MTU 8.5 m ISK). I didn’t even check whose MTU it was beforehand. In the future I probably should check that before going weapons free.

I ask Automaton if popping the abandoned MTU or getting denied access to an acceleration gate was the most exciting part of the night, but her silence reminds me I’m not as funny as I think I am. With no other prospects other than organizing station hangars, I dock up and call it a night. It occurred to me later that I probably should have told Automaton I was heading in, but then again she can always use the practice scanning cosmic signatures.

Still, I feel a lil bit like an ass.

The New D-Scan

Our war targets are clinging to the hopes that w-space will isolate them from the badies of the universe. Shattering the illusion of saftey is more effort that I original signed up for, but seems like a worthy enough cause. Plus, there is something about the landlords/slavers/leaders (Poll results: 50% slavers, 50% slum lord, 0% security conscience) of this particular w-space system that seems to deserve extra attention. After all Automaton did go through all the effort scanning down the system, so I should probably do something with that.

The only sign of life is a single pilot tethered at the citadel, but she doesn’t stay that way. I take the pilots unfortunate misfortune in choosing that moment to return to active duty as a “welcome to your new home” gift. Retriever (43.8 m ISK) She curiously ejects from the ship before it explodes. A bit odd, but I’ve heard rumors some find it easier to get their escape pod out that way?

Systems powered down, drifting in the void between planets, with nothing but your own thoughts can test anyone’s sanity. Thoughts, welcome and unwelcome alike, come unbidden to me: of her, of us. I’ve spent months cut off from k-space in the past, but this single night of isolation is gnawing at me. Squeaky, I miss you.

Automaton, with her often eerie near clairvoyance understanding,  interrupts my isolation before it overwhelms me. My second victim in the hole isn’t even a member of a capsuleer corporation, but she came from the citadel so her fate is sealed. Retriever (36 m ISK). Again with the minimalist fit and she also ejects when her ship starts to take hull damage.

She request a private coms channel, and we chat briefly. She bemoans her lack of alertness for not using the directional scanner enough despite being specifically warned to watch for me. I  point out the d-scan wouldn’t help much with my covert ops cloak and an untanked retriever.

“I wasn’t allowed to bring my skiff”


It seems the landlords”rules” are enforced for all the laborers, and not just our war targets. But despite such distractions, I’ve got business to attend to back in k-space. I bid farewell to Automaton, knowing she’ll stay. I didn’t ask her too, or even desire it, but it would be impossible to talk her out of it.

Refreshed in all the ways that matter, I return to the hole the next night. The system appears quite, and no signs of active life can be found. Powering down I attempt a restful evening alone with my thoughts.  This time trusting in my new found contentment to last.

Automaton, finds a target in an ore laden anomaly, gets the warp-in bookmark setup, and notify’s me. Groggy with sleep, but pleased at the distraction I power up systems and prepare my ship… er what? A private coms request comes in from the pilot.

Well, that means she knows I’m on coms. But how? I’m far outside of her directional scan limits. No, she must be using this to check if I’m offline or not. But she has been in the belt for several minutes, why now? Is she really spamming that request every few second to see if I go active?

Armed with the knowledge that I’m on coms again, the pilot returns to the citadel long before I exit warp. Over the next few days my suspicions are confirmed as miners and “landlords” alike send me private coms requests at regular intervals. Using the system as a replacement for direction scan. Remarkably effective in many ways.

In an attempt to counter act it, I leave myself on coms as much as possible. The miners eventually leave the citadel to do what they do. I let them be. I let complacency build, or so I hope. Several hours later, I make a move for another retriever.

I uncloak and lay waste with a heavy assault missile barrage, and Automaton urgently reports a Tengu undocking from the citadel. D-scan confirms her reports, but the target is already in deep armor. I align to warp out, and an Armageddon battleship is reported undocking as the Tengu lands on grid.

I should have already left, but I’m hear and the target is half hull. I stay a little longer.

“So this is how I loose my Tengu? Over a half fitted Retriever kill?” is the only thoughts I can entertain. I stay too late, and the enemy Tengu pumps missiles into my shields. But the Tengu warped into the center of the anomaly instead of using the Retriever as a beacon. He is too far away to point me, and I overheat my afterburner attempting to keep it that way.

My overview flickers and jumps, and I smash the warp command in repeatedly. The Tengu is 11k off, a mere kilometer away from heated scram range. I feel my heart rate slow, and breathing return to normal as I engage my cloak. Smug with success, I try and pull up the kill report. But, it isn’t there. I got the kill… didn’t I?

Automaton’s not so subtle silence poorly masks her internal dialog of nervous laughter. I did not get the kill. The pilot ejected when in deep hull damage, and I mistakenly took the flicker of the overview updating as the first signs of the ship exploding.

Could I have stayed any longer? How close was it? The damage to the ship was extensive but the citadel is happy to repair it, as I watch from my perch.


I should be happy to be alive, but it is hard to grab onto that emotion in the sea of my disappointment. It was just a retriever kill, not worth this angst or loosing a ship over. But, then why am I in this hole?

Why? To kill that Armageddon. I’ll need some help, but I imagine it will be easy to bait them. The private coms request spam continues over the next few days. But, I’m out of the hole and am loathed to setup a CSPA tax to prevent the “new D-scan” from doing its job. I may have to anyway if it continues.

XxKMinorxX > would you like the video of you running away from me for your blog?
MythBlood > sure would

Still waiting for the video

Automaton, keeping her vigil, reports miners active and scans out an entrance in Minmitar space. It doesn’t take much to talk Die into taking a trip, but we don’t have enough on hand for the Tengu and the Armageddon. We go for a “hit and run” attempt. Retriever (37 m ISK) Sure enough, the Armageddon and Tengu come out to play, but not fast enough.

The “landlord” confirms his schemes for cheap labor, and wants to know when I’m leaving his hole.

XxKMinorxX > i see your still in my wormhole
MythBlood > my wormhole? yes.
XxKMinorxX > my wormhole lol

XxKMinorxX > then why are you in my wormhole hindering my profits? because i brought some cheap labor?
MythBlood > I have the entrance why not use it
XxKMinorxX > true
XxKMinorxX > but you are not engaging any of my boys
MythBlood > that’s not true, that one tonight was in your alliance
XxKMinorxX > they are in my alliance for cheap labor lol


The war is over, and a commitment to fighting with the militia has us deployed in the war zone for a few days. The Armageddon, our prize, is destroyed in an unrelated fleet battle. I feel a little sour about that, but it leaves very little reason to return to the hole. Our objectives with the war are over, and there isn’t much point in hanging around.

Then again, there is that Citadel…

Kills: 3
Damage (/# of pilots): 58.4 m ISK

Running Tally
Kills: 51
Damage: 2,773 m ISK
Looted: 489 m ISK