reunion

After spending my first days back in EVE around Molden Heath and Goinard, my alliance began to pick up on my activities and once again started to chide me to join them in Syndicate. While I wasn’t about to move my operations into nullsec out of personal preference, planting a hanger in the nearby Placid region would place me in comfortable roaming distance from my comrades in arms, as well as acting as a staging point to launch roams into Placid itself. I like the lowsec of Placid. It houses an ample number of both PvPers and PvEers, both of which are concentrated within a cluster of roughly a dozen systems: high target density if you hunt at the right time of the day.

However, Placid was not a target region in my logistics planning months earlier, and it would take several days to acquire and move sufficient assets for a new hanger to be readied. Not to be deterred, I decided to finalize my withdrawal from Huola by jumping to my clone there, and moving one of my last remaining ships out of dock: an autocannon fit Punisher. Setting my destination to a system in Placid, I had only an even twenty jumps to travel. Even with a 400mm plate fit, my sturdy frigate slew the distance between regions in little time.

Arriving in Placid with no plans and nothing larger to switch into, I decided to see how much mischief my little bleeder fit could get itself into before going pop. Flying about the region in a hasty ship would also allow me to reacquaint myself with the locals as I could quickly scout who dwelt where and with what forces I could expect to face. I decided to check northern Placid first, and work my way south from there toward the area my alliance is currently active.

Two jumps from Maut, a pair of assault ships started trailing me: an Ishkur and Hawk. My quota of mischief currently unfilled, I decided that I’d experiment to see how much tolerance the AS pilots had for bumping. After landing on the Alparena gate, I waited for the frigate pair to catch up. As each ship landed on the gate, I maneuvered my Punisher to collide with each ship, eventually ping ponging my ship between the two. The opposing pilots retaliated by locking my ship and attempting bump back, which I laughed at as I exited through the gate into Alparena.

The pair followed me into system, and performed the unexpected: they both decloaked with haste, and as I attempted to warp to Maut, the Ishkur locked and placed a point on me, deploying a flight of Hobgoblin IIs my way as he did so. Standard missiles screamed from launch bays nestled in the Hawk, speeding ahead of the drones to strip my Punisher of shields in a single volley.

Shocked, I approached the Ishkur, moving into range to place tackle and mete out Barrage S justice. I couldn’t understand why the AS pilots thought they could engage under sentry fire and survive the encounter, but I wasn’t about to let them flee from their folly. My hefty armor buffer barely registered damage as the Hawk’s missiles and Ishkur’s drones began their assault on my plated hull, all the while my SAR reduced damage accumulation to a slow trickle.

I had overheated and applied my webifier before the Ishkur could rush into blaster range, forcing it to wade into range all the while taking significant damage from sentries and my ACs. The combination proved too much for the Ishkur, and he predictably kersploded less than a minute into the fight. Turning my attention to the Hawk, I was pleased to find he had coasted within 10km of my ship. It was a simple matter of easing into scrambler range to pin the assault ship down for the gate sentries to finish off.

The entire flurry of action left two T2 wrecks adjacent to the gate in less than a minute. Throughout the duration of the fight, I didn’t have time to fire even 50 rounds of munitions into targets before the sentries finished picking them off. I lightheartedly consoled the two rookie pilots as I scooped their loot, and then continued on my journey to Maut to deposit the spoils there.

A short break for drink later I undocked my Punisher, this time setting my sights south toward TXW-EI, the gateway system into Syndicate my alliance had chosen for their base of operations in the area. A rather uneventful nine jumps later, having chased one T1 cruiser/frigate gang to highsec, and another to a complex, I was chatted by an old friend Cephas Boaz from STUGH, who had split off to form the splinter alliance Aggressive Dissonance. While exchanging pleasantries we decided to form a gang to try for the cruisers raiding the complex, my friend logging in his main in a Cyclone to supply DPS. Unfortunately, the three jumps Cephas had to travel were too many, as the cruisers finished their work at the plex and had begun to land on my gate to leave.

Doing the only thing I could imagine to pique their interest to stay, I rushed to bump the nearest ship, bumping between the three cruisers in the enemy gang as they landed on the gate. Incredibly they paused in their flight, each in turn locking me after several seconds of my irritating actions. A Thorax was first to open fire on me, followed soon by a second Thorax, both unleashing their drone and blaster arsenal on my minor frigate. My Punisher slipped between streams of Antimatter rounds, deftly avoiding fire while tanking what little managed to land on its golden hull. I traded tackle with the nearest Thorax, closing in to a tight orbit around the cruiser, using my small Nosferatu to fuel repairs while waiting for my DPS backup to cream the cruisers on the gate.

Additional aid became unnecessary as I realized the novice pilots of these cruisers had fit little in the way of a tank. The first Thorax exploded brilliantly before Cephas could even enter the system, and I had to pull back my pitiful DPS from the second to ensure Cephas got on at least one KM from the engagement. My companion was barely able to lock in time before the second cruiser evaporated from sentry fire. The third cruiser, a Caracal, choose to jump once Cephas had arrived at the gate and placed two volleys of EMP M into his shields.

Cephas warped off to wait down aggression, and I once again moved through the wrecks to scavenge anything of value. Not wanting to wait the full fifteen minutes of GCC, Cephas prompted me to continue scouting adjacent systems, which I readily relented to. While I scouted, Cephas opted to switch to a passive tanked HAM Drake nearby, and began to head in the direction I was probing when I found us another prize: an Ishtar, this time likely belt ratting.

I quickly narrowed down the belt the Ishtar was engaged with, noting the number of wrecks already on scan at the belt: it appeared the Ishtar was done with the rats there, and would likely move on to another belt soon. Predictably, the Ishtar moved one belt down, which I immediately warped to in hopes I could catch him at zero kilometers from the belt. No such luck: the Ishtar had sniper BMs from the belts, and was engaging rats with light drones at distance.

My AC Punisher devotes the vast majority of its power grid and CPU to a massive tank; there is little enough room for weapons, none at all for a speed mod. I didn’t have the luxury of being able to rush out 100km to tackle the HAC. Instead I’d have to approximate a way to warp on top of him using celestials as a midpoint, warping to the celestial then back at the belt at range, hopefully closer to my target. Picking a stargate roughly in line between myself and the Ishtar, I warped off, and after arriving at the stargate, back to the belt at 100km. The Ishtar was now 40km away from me.

With Cephas a few jumps out, I was left with little other choice as I slow boated to the Ishtar, hoping he’d either ignore my smaller frigate or decide to engage me. Kilometers crept by every few seconds as the distance between our two ships deteriorated: a hasty ‘Look At’ later I found that the Ishtar had begun to approach me under normal speed, making my task easier. He was still enamored with destroying pirate frigates with a flight of Hornet IIs; no hostile action was taken until I came within twelve klicks of his ship. It was then we both locked each other, I placing my tackle first while the Ishtar began to recall his drones to deal with my Punisher.

It was slow going trying to move within a close orbit of the drone carrier, as a webifier had reduced my march towards him to a crawl. Small hybrid fire from the HAC lanced into my frigate, soon joined by the flight of Hornet IIs which quickly combined to savage my frigate with devastating effectiveness. To make matters worse, the Ishtar pilot had opted to fit a medium energy neutralizer, evaporating my ability to alleviate my woes via SAR. My fate sealed, I steeled myself to my task of immobilizing the HAC, employing my Nos to keep tackle equipment active. Roughly two thirds of my armor was gone by the time Cephas arrived in system with his Drake.

While the drones made steady progress into my armor, I had incredible difficulty tracking their progress around my ship with autocannon, as I couldn’t spare my webifier in fear the HAC would flee before Cephas had a chance to arrive and exchange tackle. Cephas finally landed at the belt at my location, resolving lock on the enemy HAC with practiced ease to loose deadly volleys of Caldari Navy munitions into the Ishtar, as well a flight of light drones to counter those demolishing my vessel. It was too late to make a difference for my frigate however, as it was moments after the Drake landed that my Punisher hit hull, and succumbed to the Ishtar’s drone flight.

Cephas’ flurry of HAMs turned out more than a match for the passive armor tank of the Ishtar. The drone carrier’s tank failed a short two minutes after contact with the Drake, granting us a worthy prize for our endeavors. Cephas scooped loot, and we headed back to his base of operations in Placid.

Before setting out to scout for Cephas, I had joined him on his vent server to smooth out communications. By the time of our Ishtar kill, voice comms had become much more active, with many old comrades from my earlier days in STUGH logging in for their piece of action for the night. Upon reaching his hanger Cephas sold me a Brutix, and we formed a gang to continue our roam through Placid. We set out BC heavy, with my dual MAR Brutix spearheading the gang, scouting one system ahead in hopes another gang would engage my tanky vessel first. It wasn’t long before I arrived in Pelilie, jumping into a small BS gang of none other than my allies in STUGH!

The situation was made all the more awkward as not only were my friends in Aggressive on shooting terms with STUGH proper, I was FCing for their gang. To say the least, the next half hour was an incredibly interesting flurry of explosions, which I’ll report on next post.

Fly reckless folks.

greener pastures

Hard to believe I haven’t written up a combat report in over half a year. Vacation’s over; let’s see how out of practice these fingers are.

During the three months of my absence from EVE, I’ve redistributed my ship and fitting assets from older hangers, mothballing them in preparation of the time that I’d return to the game. After the interesting discovery that Sard had been banned during my absence, and the two days it took to get him back in action, I was in the perfect position to return to my bread and butter of EVE: lowsec PvP!


Raxip Elamp had set me up with the coordinates of an awesome lowsec system, Goinard, which is less than a dozen jumps from the major lowsec areas in EVE while itself only a jump from highsec space. Having a hanger there also allows me to quickly join Raxi for PvP, something I’d been looking forward to in the time since our last venture together. I quickly assembled a Rupture, deciding that I needed a hastier option than my normal battlecruiser arsenal to explore the lowsec regions I had set myself to conquer.


Raxip’s approximations about the richness of the area didn’t disappoint: three jumps after undocking I arrived in the Angatalie System, to a duo of battlecruisers who couldn’t possibly be up to any good. I grew a grin, gave the mental shrug of the borderline insane and launched my ship into alignment towards one of the gates in the system. The Harbinger/Myrmidon pair didn’t disappoint, immediately locking me up and placing disruptor points on my Rupture. Without missing a beat, I returned the favor to the Myrmidon, matching his point while loosing a volley of Barrage M.


Before the fight was underway, I had quickly formed a few guidelines to make victory possible: keep the Harbinger at 20km distance or greater, as well as keeping the Myrmidon within 15km. These distances would allow me to engage without the withering effects of turret or possible capacitor warfare modules affecting my ship, as well as drawing out the Myrmidon’s bonused drone flight to a distance where it’d be difficult to recall them back to their bay before myself or the sentry guns annihilated them. Fifteen kilometers is also the distance where my loadout of ACs do roughly 50% of their maximum damage; enough with sentry turret fire to wither a dual MAR Myrmidon down given enough time.


Putting my plan into action, I angled my ship away from the Myrmidon, and moved to establish a distance that placed the Myrm directly between myself and the Harbinger, as well as away from the stargate. Autocannon fire glittered from my ship, creating a lethal trail of ordinance as my Rupture nimbly maneuvered from the stargate into position, occasionally connecting with a member of the drone swarm hastily approaching my ship. Tense seconds passed as I switched overview settings to lock up the majority of the enemy drone flights: my Rupture didn’t have an armor repairer fit, and any incoming damage that could be avoided had to be hastily neutralized for me to survive.


Sentry turrets cycled off my battlecruiser aggressors to aid with the near dozen of medium drones buzzing around my ship; between my own drones, ACs with webifier and the damage from the sentries the drones were subdued, at the cost of a third of my armor. With that threat out of the way, I settled into position to hammer at the Myrmidon, while bursting my MWD to keep the Harbinger at an arm’s reach. It was around this time another combatant decloaked his Nemesis 25km away from my cruiser, firing a volley of torpedoes to at least contribute to the fight. His ill planned gesture ended on a bright note.


Fortunately for me, it seemed the battlecruiser duo weren’t expecting the war of maneuvers that I was giving them. The Myrmidon was shield tanked, meaning that I was able to afford drifting a few kilometers closer to it than planned, as I had no additional enemy tackle to worry over. Both enemy ships were fit with afterburners instead of MWDs, which meant I was easily able to keep the Harbinger at range, while tantalizing the Myrmidon with being *just* out of reach. After traveling several dozen kilometers from the gate, the Myrmidon began to slow, until reaching normal velocity. It then turned tail and began a slow crawl back towards the stargate.


With the Myrmidon’s will and capacitor broken, it now became a game of keeping the Harbinger away from the Myrmidon so that he couldn’t cover his ally’s retreat to safety. Once again, good fortune smiled on me, as a glance over to the Harbinger’s armor reserves suggested that the pilot neglected an armor rep in his fittings: he had roughly 60% remaining, slowly whittling down as gate sentries cycled from the Myrmidon to his ship. I switched my drone flight from the Myrmidon to the Harbinger, exacerbating his worry until finally forcing the Amarr BC to warp off towards a nearby celestial and flee the field. I was finally alone with the stricken Myrmidon, and turned the full force of my weapons to bear upon him.


Overheating my ACs saw the last of the Myrmidon’s shield reserve destroyed, and it was a hasty matter removing the unresisted plate underneath. With the Myrmidon destroyed, I set out to locate the Harbinger, who was still in system. Several minutes of chasing later, I moved on to repair in an adjacent system as he had opted to warp to a midsafe instead of engaging my damaged Rupture. Unknown to him, I had my alt ready for the occasion a mere four jumps away, and within minutes had him probed down and finished the damaged Harbinger in the deadspace of his manufacture.


I happily scooped loot from the wrecks strewn about the system, and returned to Goinard for repairs and munitions. While I still disagree with Raxip that Molden Heath is a dead region as far as PvP goes, I have to admit that his slice of space definitely has a nicety of action to it!

for Kane

In responding to Kane Rizzel’s latest blag post, I instigated a strong response from the old pirate. Since Kane did me the honors of expanding his response into the form of entirely new blag post, I’ll do the same. I’ll not attempt to cheapen his writing by picking it apart with quotes. Rather, I’ll reply by addressing the underlying theme behind his post: solo piracy.

EVE piracy to me is self sustained PvP at the expense of others, achieved through ransoms, player kills, assorted theft and griefing. Given every player’s experiences of solo activities in general, solo piracy must be a difficult task. Taken from a solo PvPer’s experiences, solo piracy is an amazing accomplishment. Borrowing finally from a pirate’s perspective, what Kane suggests he's accomplished with NovaKane is downright unbelievable: two and a half fucking years of solo piracy in Heimatar and beyond.

Kane, I think I safely state for the entirety of the EVE blagging community that we’re all impressed by your accomplishments and associated tales of victories and defeats over the past few years. Many pilots, including myself half a year ago have been inspired by you to break away from their fleets, and give solo PvP or piracy a go. Thanks in part to you, I founded a new corporation and have been running amok about Molden Heath and beyond causing havoc and grief at my leisure and others' expense. However, in responding to my comment, you fucked up. You decided to state that one can’t be a solo pirate while flying in a populated corporation or alliance. And I call bullshit.

So what if you’ve flown in your own corp for two and a half years; it doesn’t secure that your way is the only way for solo piracy. After bothering to check your personal KB for the past year of combat you’ve had, a solid half of your combat kills have other parties contributing to the mails. You know this, however you state that you’ve been doing your thing for years, without the option of backup? No. Just because your help comes from an organization outside your corporation or alliance doesn’t make your kills solitary accomplishments. It makes you the corp loner, the hermit that comes and goes as he damn well pleases: an approach to this game we all should take up and try out, honestly.

So I’m happy to see you making trails on the blag again, Kane. Even vacationing from posting & playing, your class act bests mine over here at Broadside. It’s not due to your stubborn approach to PvP, or your incredible feats as a solo pirate. By itself, you could writing could lose the ego, and I could care less about the quotes. However, combine everything: the attitude, the content, the (once) regularity of it, and you have a winning formula from the self proclaimed pirate dinosaur of EVE. The hat is off to you, sir.

Fly reckless Kane, and hopefully see you in space.

for Roc

An invitation to a private conversation flashed before Sard's eyes. Glancing between the two retrievers in the asteroid belt and the invitation, Sard accepted the invite. It'd take some time for his Arazu to approach the miners while cloaked.

"Coffee, make it brief, I have friends in need of liberation from their ships."

Good Coffee grinned manically from his visual feed. Something about his prior enslavement with the Amarr broke his bonds with reality. He had since been tied to several terrorist elements within Amarr space.. of all things, sabotaging their coffee production. He was a wiz at the markets though, which was why Sard tolerated his brushes with insanity.

"Any faster and the brew doesn't percolate properly. And you know I must be the best there is."

Sard gave a mental sigh, thankful that Coffee couldn't see the frown forming on his face.

"What is it Coffee?"

Coffee straightened up slightly, the wild look in his eyes draining as he read from a terminal. "Colonel Roc Wieler has been exonerated of murder charges against Daul Halwick. However, an investigation into the good Colonel's fiscal assets have revealed a startling development. Sard, he's been dealing Matari slaves through a third party."

"He what? That man's cast of stone, he'd never knowingly betray his people! Not for money, power, or friends." Thoughts of Mynxee's latest encounter with the law sent a shiver of rage down Sard's back. The good Colonel did nothing but sit on his ass and wait for her to die.

Sard blinked. Fifteen kilometers from the mining barges. "Anyway, he's had this coming. His latest run in with Mynxee was just the tipping point. I don't see why you're so excited by the whole mess."

"While contacting one of my sources in the Empire, a name came up, as well as this story. A name we know." All the wildness was gone from Coffee's face, replaced by a frigid stare. "Minara Dawn, Sard. She's alive, and just screwed Roc as she screwed yo-"

"FIND HER! Find her and report her position to me immediately!" Sard had just decloaked on the barges, scrambling their warp drives when Coffee related his findings. Antimatter blasts ripped apart the hapless mining vessels, tearing and blasting into the fragile hull until finally destroying reactor containment. One after the other, the barges exploded with sapphire radiance, briefly illuminating the entire asteroid belt with their glow.

Debris floated past his Recon cruiser. Several identifiable corpses rotated lazily in the void, contortions of agony literally frozen into their forms. It was not enough to contain the rage. Nothing would be enough until blood was on his hands. Her blood.

Minara Dawn. The bitch had finally surfaced, in a most fantastic fashion as well. Typical of her. Fortunately for Roc Sard was feeling magnanimous. He might just interrogate her about her involvement with the Colonel before removing her ability to speak ever again.

under construction 4

Short update: Sard is alive and well in EVE killing more dudes than ever, however relaying his stories into written form just hasn't been a priority for me of late. Blame summer break lethargy, nihilism, or just a need to try something different.

On that note of change, I may be starting a new blag project in the next month, or just revive this journal. I will try to update with the next two weeks to give old fans an idea of where I'm going with this.

Anyway, fly reckless, and I hope to see y'all in space.

unknown pleasures

There's a difference between individuals that take the initiative and those that do not. It's a matter of intuition, of insight, of taking a situation into perspective, identifying what needs be done and moving to accomplish those objectives. Seizing the initiative doesn't necessitate taking the first move, at least visibly. It doesn't entail being aggressive. Initiative is merely created and exploited by those that employ their minds during an engagement, allowing one to dictate terms and ultimately secure victory from any number of larger or more powerful foes.

After flying alone and leading gangs for so long, a pilot gains an innate grasp of what can and is occurring before and during a fight, and can apply his experience to turn the advantage. Looking at the pieces on the field, a Cyclone and Kitsune versus my Myrmidon, I knew the odds were against me. However, I saw through the facts of the situation, and took the initiative. I tapped my MWD and burned away from the station to meet my foe, locked him, and left him with few decisions to make.

I knew that the opposing pilot had the EWAR advantage. This would give him a sense of superiority, and prompt him to act with more confidence he may normally have. Predictably, he engaged me. Instead of attempting to maintain range, or taking a cautious approach, he closed range as fast as his ship could allow him. Medium Barrage rounds slammed into my Myrmidon, stripping shields and laying bare energized plate, which twisted and buckled under the punishing assault.

However, if there is one fact I understood better than any other, is that even the best laid plans never survive contact with the enemy. While yes, the Cyclone pilot did have an ECM ship in his gang, that ship wasn't on grid. It couldn't deny me from fighting back while still held in reserve, and fight back I did. Allowing himself to approach into such close proximity meant I could quickly recall and launch drones as they took damage. It meant I didn't have to expend capacitor to close range myself, and could devote all my juice to running reps and tackle equipment. It also meant if more of the Cyclone's buddies showed up, or the Cyclone itself was more than I could handle, I wasn't terribly far from the station to retreat into.

Once within 10km, I responded to the Cyclone's advances. My mixed drone stack sailed out of their hanger, and followed a fairy trail to their target caused by my warp disruptor and scrambler. Between the fierce projectile exchange between the two ships, it was remarkable how ably and securely the drones orbited the Cyclone, avoiding the glittering trajectories of autocannon fire to exploit previous damage to the integrity of the Cyclone's shields. Occasionally turrets and missiles would switch targets to track the larger members of the automated flight; however their proximity to their carrier meant escape was a simple activity. While the Matari battlecruiser cycled from drone to ship to drone, it made little headway on either and only sustained further damage itself.

Seconds passed and accumulated to form into a minute as our two battlecruisers slugged it out, trading shell for shell, testing the resilience of the Cyclone's passive shield tank against the endurance of my active armor tank. It became clear that the Cyclone wasn't able to best my dual MAR setup, while his shields steadily declined to nothingness under the caress of my arsenal. The Cyclone was going to need help to escape from this encounter alive, help that was taking too long coming. Where was the Kitsune that was still on scan? Was it at a POS, or indeed piloted?

The Cyclone's shields failed, and with its tank routed, the armor and structure that remained were quickly swept aside. While Gallente drones had been the brawn behind my attack, it was a burst of 425mm shell that tore into the Matari battlecruiser's heart to loose the sapphire fire that raged within. Smug with victory, I informed Raxip of the results and started to approach the twisted remains of the Cyclone. He congratulated me, and informed me that he had a replacement Rifter underway to my position. Acknowledging, I began retrieving the spoils of my conquest. It's amazing that the final explosion missed over five thousand clips of Barrage M, not to mention why any pilot would take so much ammunition into combat in the first place.

Aligning back to the station to deposit loot, the Kitsune exited warp behind me, seventy kilometers off from my position. I waved to the pilot in local, watching him warp off to an unknown destination within the system. Docking with the station, I couldn't help but smile at my good fortune. It didn't matter much to me what reasons the Kitsune pilot had leaving his corpmate to die by my hand. It was only further proof that I was right to take a chance, and attempt what had appeared impossible. Despite what scouts tell you, what intuition predicts, the results of a fight are always suspect. It takes action, following opportunity and riding out it out to its conclusion to understand what will really occur during a fight.

Take the initiative. Go out and seek engagements on your terms, possibly conceding a term or two to the opposition. What follows is the crux of it all, the reason why we play EVE. Just remember to joke, laugh and have fun with the guy you're shooting at while you’re at it.

The roam ain't over yet! Hell, the Myrm hasn't even blown up yet! More combat reports to come. Hope y'all are enjoying the (mental) show.

block rockin' beats

My current housing situation doesn't offer a stable internet connection, and due to this difficulty I'm not able to PvP, or much less go about any meaningful activity online beyond browsing the web. Every few weeks I visit my folk’s house, and for a few days am able to get my PvP fix. Not the most ideal situation, but I like to think I get my money's worth.

Returning from my latest break from EVE, I was greeted by my partner in crime Raxip, and we hastily set out to do some damage. The roam path was over fifty jumps distant: the plan was to burn our way through lowsec until we arrived at the Placid region. According to Raxip, Molden Heath has declined in engage-able targets of late, and has been feeling the itch to travel to greener pastures. It's a feeling I had no intention of suppressing.

With Raxip piloting a Rifter, and myself in a Myrmidon, we set out from Egbinger. The six jumps to Skarkon were utterly quiet, as were the remaining three jumps from there to Tabbetzur. Scouting the adjacent Offikatlin, Raxip noticed increased activity in the system, with pilots active in space. I jumped in to help investigate.

Offikatlin lacks stations, so chances were good that there was a target somewhere in the system's eight asteroid belts. Moving about the system and scanning the area, the belts lacked any activity; however there was a Cyclone in space. Narrowing the battlecruiser down to a planet, I warped to the planet at ten kilometers, hoping the opposing Cyclone would be at a similar distance. Landing, he was idling at the planet at zero bubble; ten km away. A warp disruptor, followed by a webifier and scrambler ensured that the enemy vessel wasn't going anywhere without destroying me first.

Destroying me, much less lending my vessel a worthwhile challenge wasn't on the Cyclone pilot's agenda during the engagement. Republic Fleet EMP augmented the damage of my thermal damage drone flight, tearing past the active tank of the Cyclone to take generous bites into the pristine armor plate underneath. So devastating was my onslaught that the Cyclone was nearing structure before Raxip had time to respond to my call and warp in to contribute to the kill. I pulled my drone flight back to their bay and stilled the chatter of my autocannons in anticipation of Raxip arriving; we were a team, and he deserved a place on the killmail.

Killmail aside, Raxip has an affinity for tackling and popping pods. After Rax arrived and aggressed the Cyclone, I instigated my arsenal once more and silenced the Cyclone for good. Raxip caught the pod before the pilot could manage to warp off; he asked if we should ransom the pilot. I gave the go ahead, and started towards the wreck to pick up some spoils of this victory.

Negotiations were cut short as a vengeance gang consisting of a Jaguar and Rapier arrived a short minute after the kill, forcing Raxip to squish the pod and both of us to move into action. The Jaguar had arrived first, ignoring my Myrmidon for Raxip's Rifter, which he immediately burned towards and aggressed. Raxip return the favor and tackled the cocky assault ship pilot, trading autocannon fire with his superior foe. Lacking the enhanced resistances, speed and capacity for damage, Raxip was fighting a losing battle, his armor quickly giving away under the Jaguar's assault. When the Rapier decloaked twenty kilometers away, Raxip's fate was sealed.

Neglecting a drone carrier is an action few frigate sized vessels ever live to regret; it was an error the Jaguar was quickly realizing as medium sized projectile ordinance came smashing into his active shield tank. A bonused Warrior II flight screamed out from my Myrmidon's drone bay to aid Raxip's savaged Rifter, the flashes of chattering projectile ordinance lighting the void as the two frigates were consumed in mutually overwhelming firepower. Raxip's Rifter exploded, followed moments later by the opposing Jaguar. All that was left on the field was the fresh Rapier and my Myrmidon.

The Rapier switched his dual webs onto my Myrmidon, as well as a tracking and warp disruptor. Artillery shells reached out to slam into the energized plate of my battlecruiser, while an explosive damage drone flight sought to find chinks in my regenerating plate. The Rapier pilot's priorities were misplaced however, and my mixed flight of thermal damage drones raced out to erase their master's tormentor. Lumbering Ogres, Hammerheads and a Hobgoblin found their prey, and proceeded to hurl antimatter death at the Matari force recon.

Despite the apparent danger of the drone flight eating into his shields, the Rapier kept at my vessel rather than my vulnerable drone flight. Too late did the recon pilot notice his shield tank failing, and my drones hungrily consuming the fragile armor plate beneath. Too late did he realize that my overheated warp disruptor was still shackling his cruiser's warp core from hurling his stricken ship away from his tormentor. Too late did the Rapier pilot understand to leave well enough alone, and flee with his ship intact.

Exalted with victory, I informed Raxip to grab a ship in Tabbetzur and help me loot the mess of wrecks and abandoned drones strewn in orbit around the planet that served as our battlefield. I set my battlecruiser to approach the nearby Rapier wreck, and posted the killmails associated with this most recent slaughter. Arriving at the wreck, a most pleasant surprise: a Domination Stasis Webifier! Returning to the Jaguar wreck, more gems were found: a Gistii B-Type Afterburner and Small Shield Booster! It seemed Raxip and I had stumbled upon an isk mine of targets to exploit in the future: the only question was getting the loot stored in a station before continuing on.

Waiting down my GCC, I did just that, leaving the valuable loot safe for later recovery in Tabbetzur. Doing so I recognized one pilot from the three we had just vanquished in Offikatlin, as well as another from the same corporation. Undocking, there was a Cyclone two dozen kilometers off, as well as a Kitsune EAS on scan. Recent action had trashed my sec status enough that I was an outlaw, and the Cyclone was free to engage without worry of the station's sentry turrets interfering. More brazen than sane, I started my MWD and burned towards the Cyclone, hoping for a fight and damning his ECM support as a handicap he needed. The Cyclone was more than happy to oblige.

Plenty more from that night coming up in a day or two. Stay tuned!