EVE Online - EVE-Pirate.com (Entries tagged as roleplay)

Hand of God

nospam@example.com (Davis Burnside) — Sun, 05 Sep 2010 02:15:00 +0200

-By Nojha Herrit, Journalist for Herald of EVE

All across the Heimatar region, a story has been passed down for years. It can be occasionally heard at a bar between friends or used to scare fresh pilots from the academy. I can even remember hearing it from my uncle as a kid, who added absurd details to frighten me. There have been many that question it and others who swear on its authenticity. No matter what you believe, though, you can’t escape the haunt that the story brings. For when you find yourself flying through quiet space, you will sometimes feel the tingle of your spine and the tremble of your hand.
This is the story that echoes across the cosmos...

In Illinfrik, there is said to be a mysterious ship with an even more mysterious pilot. Pilots have supposedly been killed in situations that border on fantasy, and those who are lucky enough to have clones describe the bizarre ordeal when they awaken.
One man said that he was attacked mid-warp when a ship that he had never seen before entered the warp tunnel right behind him and killed his battleship and his pod with a single shot. He claims that the ship was unlike anything he had seen before. He says that it changed shape and color and fired a weapon too small and powerful to even exist.
Another man claims to have been attacked from over 1000 KM away. According to him, the ship suddenly appeared on his local overview, but thought nothing of it until his warp drive malfunctioned and his ship was cut in half by some unknown energy beam.
But perhaps the strangest report is from Jouc Liage, a former cargo ship operator. I had to fly planet-side to get an interview with him, and he was reluctant to tell me his story. After a modest bribe, however, he cleared his throat and told me to take a seat. “I was flying my Fenrir, which was loaded with over 400 million ISK worth of cargo, and I was escorted by a dozen battlecruisers.” He seemed nervous as he tells his story, and kept his gaze fixed on something behind my head. “We were in mid-warp, with no indication of trouble.” He says. “Then we all suddenly drop out of warp, halfway to our destination. All the pilots were scrambling to figure out what happened, when a strange ship just appeared about 3 km in front of me. It was about the size of a cruiser, had no windows, and shone dark purple in the sunlight. But the strangest part was the hull; it bended and shifted and snaked constantly, like a psychedelic sculpture. My Security team could not target it, and my scanner was going insane. The readings fluctuated from 10 kg to over 700,000,000 kg several times a second, combat drones flew away from it, and my computer thought that it was a crate of turkey.” Jouc leaned forward and looked and the ground. “I received a message on my comm. Unit, but it an unintelligible string of letters and numbers. I responded, saying ‘We don’t mean no harm, just tell us what you want.’ But as soon as I sent it, all of my escort ships started shooting each other! Not only that, the ship hit me with a single blast and my entire ship was vaporized!” He lit up a cigarette. “It was the freakiest shit I had ever seen. I couldn’t even imagine it in my nightmares. When my clone awoke, the doctors said I was screaming violently, and I had to be restrained”. Jouc declined any further questions from my interview. Since the incident, Jouc got a job as a waiter and has not left his home planet.
The only thing that is known about this mysterious being is that it has never been seen at a stargate or station, only attacks targets bigger than itself, and supposedly will not attack a ship if an Amarrian is onboard. Even the elusive Jovian nation has denied the existence of such a ship, and nobody is sure if there is only the one or if there are others like it. Reports of the ship only occur in Illinfrik, and there haven’t been any sighting or attacks in the last 6 years. The safety of pilots in the system is not guaranteed, though. The entity may decide, for whatever reasons, to terrorize New Eden once more...

Hunt: To Be, or Not To Be.

nospam@example.com (Ziku) — Mon, 21 Jul 2008 00:40:00 +0200

I have never agreed too much with Gallente ship design, always thought it to be too 'pretty'. The soft lines, a smooth bubbly forms... Put that Engineering effort into making a better Auto Cannon I say. But there is just something about the way that Thorax felt, that rush of power flowing in when all systems came online. I havenâ€™t felt this way since my first Hurricane. Even the tight, swept back form of this vessel appealed to me. I continue to fantasize the killing potential in this craft until the proximity alerts go off.
Single Target in-bound. I had dropped out of warp less than fifteen seconds ago and already a target! Rifter class frigate. Thought spans in all directions, as my ship fires all engines, leans into a tight orbit, slips into partial warp with the Micro Warp Drive, and the concentration shifts to locking the target. All modules stand ready as my sensors pinpoint their target. I can feel my mouth water, I have to force I swallow.
Lock. A brief moment everything dims as all modules light off. Warp Scrambler, Statis Webifier, and Four Nosferatu modules. Almost as quickly, energy surges back in to the capacitors, bleeding the target dry.
The Drones, already armed, spill from their hiding place, blazing towards the target. Their first combined volley tears away the Rifter shields. No big accomplishment there, but when the second and third sear and char their way through the Rifterâ€™s armor and into his hull I giggle. I command a ceasefire to the drones.
I hail my target. Two Hundred Thousand ISK. Short and sweet. I'm nervous at this point, I'd rather not become someone else's kill. This is taking too long. I start counting off over comms.
Five.
Four.
Three.
Two.
... A reply. "1 second"
One Decimal Five.
One and One Third.
One Decimal One.
Another message, begging "I'm a new pilot"
Decimal Nine.
Decimal Five.
Zero.
The drones eagerly jump to life. Their first volley ignore what little shield recharge had occurred in the interval. Pieces of the Rifter go spewing in all direction as that one lucky round ruptures the Fusion Core.
The Escape Pod flies past my Thorax, already initiated into Warp. That's fine. There will be others.
I hit Warp again; I spent too long in that belt. Next time I'll know not to wait so long. After a few belts my mind wanders back to the plasma cloud burning freely from my last target. What beauty is to be found in destruction!
Proximity alert! My warp drive had already aligned to the next belt. Scanners already cleared their cache. What was that?
I stop in this belt and fire up the MWD. I want some distance between me and the opponent. Local comms start to chatter. I'm being hunted! The thrill sparks again. A whole new rush, not of the kill, but of the chase.
I let my eagerness gets the best of me. I allow my position to slip over comms, and within seconds a Rupture class cruiser warps in. With over 243km between us, I realize that I am still in control of this fight. Just then, some Angel Militia Pirate's warp in to investigate. My opponent quickly dispatches them. In fact, so quick that my surprise attack doesn't succeed. I couldn't align that fast.
The same dance begins. Lock. All systems initiate. Drones released. I hear the larger Auto Cannons of my opponent penetrating my shielding, tearing into my armor. Enemy Drones sending their Lasers into my hull, separating steel from structure. I increase orbit and try firing some Smart Bombs that I had fitted to shake the drones, open distance to prevent Auto Cannon damage, but it was too late. Modules and main systems alike were shutting down. Damage controls had failed and most of the ship had de-pressurized. Now I watch from my escape Pod as my Fusion Core erupts. I chuckle, as the odd tingle the Pod has in its warp shudders through me, and I make a clean getaway back home.
Once at a safe distance I pull my attacker up on comms. I thank him, now I know what to be cautious for, I have learned. One more lesson, one more step towards my destiny.

I return to station and browse the markets for my next combat ship. I run a few simulations for Capacitor Efficiency, Shield and Armor Durability, and Weapon Damage Outputs.
But before I have a chance to make any purchases, other pilots from my corporation send me a fleet invite. We have a war target trying to make his way towards Rens.
I ponder a moment. Haste requires a ship already fitted, in hangar, and ready to fly. I put out the alert, scramble my Jaguar for immediate departure!
The Hunt Is On!

Cleared for publication by: Ander

Old Dog still learning New Tricks

nospam@example.com (Ziku) — Fri, 20 Jun 2008 09:15:00 +0200

Pator Tech. wasn't my first choice but then again, who ever gets their first choice in life? The day out from academy I used the last bit of isk I had (stolen) to buy a Reaper and a few fitting options. I set my NeoCom to monitor the "Recruitment" channel, where I would prove myself as the fiercest pirate in the galaxy and procure my fortunes and infamy.
I did meet up with a startup pirate corp, and went so far, far away to a system called "Jan" The galaxy was a lot bigger than I had imagined. Here I found out two things. One: T2 fittings and ships beat T1. And Two: I had no way to pay for or fly such things.
So my course was this- I make a fortune and pay for these things, and train constantly as hard as I could until I was the best! I invested in Learning Skills so I could train harder and faster than I supposed any other pilot could, and researched fitting schemes and money making ventures....
... I woke up. A year and a half later, there were foreign objects in the POD fluid, and Iâ€™m still aching from detox. I don't know where I am, no familiar stars are in view. I had been piloting the same ship class I had fantasized about, only it's scatted remains were in orbit with me around an unfamiliar moon. I rebooted my Navigation system and found that I was 44 jumps outside of any CONCORD presence. What I had been doing out here was still baffling me. I checked my comm systems, most of the data there was either encrypted or corrupted. A few sparse messages informed me that I had joined up with an alliance and then had been removed. My assets had been removed from my hangar and I was wanted. Infamy it seemed was not something I enjoyed. I'm not sure how I had escaped the same wrath the debris of my once proud ship had endured. That thought alone got my heart racing. Panic sobered me the rest of the way up and I stressed my ship systems in getting "home". I few close calls but thankfully my brain still knew how to fly this thing better than I ever remembered. I had dozens of "Books" downloaded that I cannot remember fully to this day, but I always seem to come up with the answer.
Lost and confused, I was accepted into a corporation to help with their industry concern. Oddly, I had also been trained in that too, although it bores me to no end.
Another year has passed. I have enjoyed the company of numerous pilots and been hired into a few corporations since. I finally have been accepted back into society and even get jobs from an agent or two from Brutor Tribe. I'm back in my homeland and it feels great...
...Until Yesterday.
The local channel fires up. A Pilot was upset that no one would "take his can" Producing such a challenge was not too smart, someone might take him up on it. I jump into my trusty Rifter. I open his can. Flagged for combat, his friends uncloak and I barely get my pod back into station. He laughs and informs me that if he had lost to a Rifter he would have quit flying.
Anger! Just like in those first long months. I have not felt this way in years. Only today, I have a generous account, the skill to fly ships of any race, and well, and the support of numerous other pilots.
I place a "Buy Order" on the markets for a Thorax. They have a deadly potential, and I have been researching other ships for more capabilities...

I will have my fleet, I will have my revenge.
Cleared for publication by: Ander

The path of War

nospam@example.com (Sniper061) — Mon, 22 Oct 2007 15:24:00 +0200

Our corporation had declared war on our target merely two days prior and so far, our kill count and reputation had gone through the roof. Already with seven prior kills to our name, one being a Caracal, we had put the fear of God into our enemy. Now, every time we entered a target system, our victims fled to the safety of the nearest station and either logged off or waited until the 2 or 3 members of their corporation who had battleships were able to jump in system. We could only wonder as to why they continued to refuse our ransom. Cleared for publication by: Ander Rest of story moved to extended body by request.
Continue reading "The path of War"

a new begining pt2 (amatter of discapline)

nospam@example.com (marakor) — Sun, 15 Jul 2007 22:07:00 +0200

A new beginning pt2

Prelude

Harold remembered the day he finished reading his newest skill books on electronic warfare and walked to the corp hangars to look at the ship his commander had told him to fit. The technical specs on the electronic counter measure units and tracking disruptors was daunting but his commander had insisted Harold should learn them to a reasonable level. Harold knew better than to argue, this commander had led some of the most daring raids and overseen some of the largest fleet operations in the alliance.

Not only that but even now the leaders of a coalition of many huge alliances had pulled this amazingly experienced commander into a secure channel to ask his advise on how to combat an enemy with almost 4 times there numbers and five times the resources. â€œI hope they donâ€™t faf about and waste his time,â€ thought Harold who had flown with him for nearly 6 months now and was more than familiar with his commanderâ€™s lack of patience when it came down to leadership decisions.

The man on more than one occasion had taken command of the entire alliances fleet if the original FC had been disabled, destroyed or simply felt out of his depth with a battle. His voice was as well known as his temper when it came down to combat and although almost all of the leaders of the alliances member corporations had at one time or another been involved in heated arguments with this man, there was not one of them or many other ordinary pilots who did not owe there lives and a huge number of saved ships to his skill, courage and daring when it came to combat.

â€œItâ€™s a bit thin sirâ€ Harold replied to his commanderâ€™s question about his newest ship. A black bird, a ship solely designed for electronic warfare and not to take or really dish out damage. â€œIts not for tanking a dread Harold its designed for reducing a hostile fleets ability to cause damage giving a smaller fleet the ability to destroy a larger force or at least not take lossesâ€. â€œYouâ€™re a member of the alliances wolf pack now remember,â€ said his commander.

The â€œWOLF PACKâ€ an elite group of pilots personally selected by the commander to fly into hostile areas and kill anything and anybody who they can find. Their record spoke for its self, with some times as few as 3 ships they would gladly jump into hostile systems with over 20 or more potential targets, hunt them down and destroy as many as possible. It was a high stress job that few were ever invited to join and Harold was shocked when his commander asked him to join them over pilots with vastly more skills than he had. â€œYouâ€™ve got nothing to unlearn ladâ€ was the reply he got when he questioned his invitationâ€. Unsure what his commander meant Harold just nodded and felt awed to be part of what was fast becoming legend in the alliance. He wondered what his first battle with these guys would be like.

A matter of discipline

40 jumps, 40 jumps from home and over 50 hostile ships in his local scanner. A station that they couldnâ€™t dock in, a heavily armed structure at every moon and a large mobile warp bubble on every gate. â€œWe are so screwed,â€ thought Harold as he jumped to another safe spot with his fleet of 8 ships all tech 2 or e-war Cruisers. Checking his scanner he sees hostile probes, there scans reaching out to give a location on his small group of ships.

The success of this particular hunt was even now resounding around the alliance forum and communications channels. 88 kills over a 12 hour period by 8 ships an achievement that even the veteran pilots of the alliance were stunned to a hear, these kills put the commanders personal total up to 127 over 3 days. Not that anybody apart from the alliance leader had dared to join the wolf packs channel to congratulate them since an over enthusiastic member had jumped into channel just as they were engaged in a battle with 4 battleships and 5 support. The blistering response from the wolf pack commander to this verbal intrusion into an active combat situation was terrifying and brutally short, and after the battle had been won the FC had demanded that the channel that they were in was password protected to stop another interruption.

â€œFCâ€ came the call over the comms unit from the alliance leader, who although by far out ranked the commander in the alliance was still an old school pilot and had perfect comms etiquetteâ€. â€œGoâ€ came the response. â€œFC I can have a fleet formed in 5 minutes and be with you in under an hour howâ€™s your situationâ€. The commander reported about the bubbles on gates the fact that interdictors had been seen by their cloaked scout jumping out of both gates in the system and that their was at least 15 ships of mixed types on each gate and of course that they were in the middle of a utterly hostile constellation.

As this was reported Haroldâ€™s breathing became more relaxed â€œThere comingâ€ he thought, but the words he heard next almost stopped his heart. â€œDonâ€™t bother weâ€™ve finished annoying these guys and id say another 20 minutes and they will be primed for our egressâ€. Laughing with amusement and not a little awe the alliance leader replies â€œIâ€™ve known you for to long to dispute you FC id like to stay in channel to record this and listen in if thatâ€™s ok, good hunting I am now clearing comms. â€œCopy thatâ€ was all the reply he got.

The commander did not bother to tell his squad to prepare as far as he was concerned if they were not ready to follow orders they would not be here in the first place he just began.
The orders came as quick, clear and as without fear as Harold had come to expect from what seemed to him a creature of combat knowledge and focus packed into a skin wrapper. â€œScout I want a report on their sniping battleships on both gates I want their ranges from the gates and how the support is arrayedâ€. Ok the rest of you its going to take time to get our pieces in place so just keep bouncing between safe spots for nowâ€ came the order to the rest of the fleet.

The scouts report comes in a good 5 or 10 minutes later â€œFC there is on the AA gate 2 battleships at sniper range 160km from the gate 4 battle cruisers and 3 hacâ€™s or T1 cruisers on the bubble and 5 interceptors or assault ships on the gate inside the bubble.
â€œOk good and the BB gateâ€. "FC a similar setup but with 1 less battle cruiser and 6 small tacklers and only one sniper at range 160km I have full details if you wish sirâ€. â€œJust how many are actually sitting on the gate and ship types please scoutâ€. â€œFC 5 of the six are on the gate all small tacklersâ€.

â€œOk scout I need you to get me a warp in point on one of the battleships that are on the AA gate I want the point to drop us out behind him towards the BB gate at about 40 kmâ€ came the call that sent a thrill of electricity up Haroldâ€™s spine. â€œWhat is he planning nowâ€ Harold thought â€œits check mate and he is thinking of going on the offensive we just cannot win, Iâ€™ve seen to much to know that we just do not have the fire power to beat this many ships we should go for a gate and hope some of us make itâ€. These thoughts came to Harold without fear or anger towards his commander. He had seen to many victories and to much death to be afraid of it now. These were just the musings of a combat pilot with the experience to understand the odds.

â€œSir I have a warp in point on the tempestâ€ came the call. â€œOk scout now I want you to book mark it and head to the BB gate I want you to bookmark a spot 200km away from the BB gate is that clearâ€. â€œYes sirâ€ came the immediate but slightly confused response over the comms.

â€œOk now listen up under the circumstances and because of the very fact that you are here means I do not consider you a security risk I am on this occasion going to tell you the planâ€. â€œ I am doing this because speed is of the essence and knowing and doing is faster than being told and then doingâ€.

â€œWe will be jumping on top of the sniper at a range of 40 km and will lock him an fire, we will warp in from behind so his support who warp to him will be at least 40 km away from usâ€ he paused to let this sink in. â€œAs you can see the exit gates in this system are aligned so I want all ships to turn and burn with mwd towards the BB gate as soon as you drop out of warpâ€. â€œScout your job is as usual essential so listen up, as I gang warp us to the sniper position I want you to warp to your 200km spot on the BB gate and report â€œon the hostiles movementâ€. â€œYes sirâ€ came the reply. â€œAfter that I will be giving orders be quick or die is the order of the day people lets get readyâ€.

Adrenaline rushing through his veins Harold aligns his ship and gets it up to speed. The commander gang warps the entire fleet to the scout who is 40 km off the hostile sniper and gives the command â€œok scout warp to the 200km spot of the BB gate NOW!!â€ Even now the commanders voice is filled with the cold passion that Harold had heard many times before. â€œI want a report when you drop out of warp on what those ships are doing also align towards the gate and get up to speed ready to warp to itâ€.

Harold and the rest of the fleet came out of warp at exactly 42km from the tempest as promised and he immediately turns his ship around, locks the tempest, turns on his ECM units and activates his micro warp drive. He could only imagine the orders flying around the hostile fleet as he watches the interceptors and acâ€™s burn out of the bubble and the slower more deadly battle cruisers and cruisers turn and align towards the tempest in preparation to warp. Over the channel came the report from the scout
â€œ Sir the tacklers are burning out of the AA bubble and the rest are turning to warpâ€.
â€œCopy that scoutâ€ came a calm reply followed by â€œeverybody prepare to warp to the AA gate at jump range including you scoutâ€. As the first of the hostile ships came out of warp now a good 55km away from Haroldâ€™s ship the commander waits for what seems like an eternity Haroldâ€™s heart again pounding as the interceptors get closer and the battle cruisers and other support drop our of warp to close for his comfort. Finally the command is given and Haroldâ€™s ship seems to explode into warp as he hits the controls.

The commanderâ€™s voice seems to come out of thin air and says â€œOk guys set your overview to interdictors and tacklers only and as you hit that bubble I want you all to mwd to the gate and jump on contact. As Harold came out of warp he saw his screen filled with the shimmer of the warp bubble, he immediately hit his mwd and burned towards the gate. Checking his overview he noticed that it was empty of hostiles â€œThey all warped in to kill usâ€ he thought and remembered the commanders words to the alliance leader about annoying the enemy and getting them â€œprimed for our egressâ€. As the fleet jumps out of the system Harold checks his overview and sees 2 ships within weapon range inside the bubble the interdictor has dropped at that very instant the commander calls for a mwd burn towards the out gate and calls the interdictor primary. Harold felt no sympathy for the 2 pilots as there ships are destroyed in seconds although he and his squad have to burn out of the bubble the interdictor dropped. Even as the FC gang warps them to the gate and orders the scout to burn ahead there was to be no sign of pursuit on Haroldâ€™s local scanner. â€œProbably glad to be rid of us he thoughtâ€ as he considered the mayhem they had caused in that last and surrounding systems.

â€œOk fleet set destination for home scout burn ahead keep sharp for targets of opportunityâ€ came the call after it was ascertained that they were not being followed. â€œHe almost sounds disappointed â€œ thought Harold and then he considered the buzz he had been feeling and felt ever time he flew with this commander â€œI never knew combat could be like this just how much is there to learnâ€. As they neared there home systems the pilots in the local scan window were no longer coloured hostile but the blue of friendly pilots. But even now the commander coldly ignored the greetings in local, and even told those who used the open channel to stop it immediately, even though the systems were empty of any threat, and to use the alliance channel instead considering local chatter â€œa bad habit to get intoâ€.

Docking in there outpost deep into 0.0 space the FC personally congratulates each member pointing out that if it had been him chasing and camping a system that had any ship left their positions on the gates without orders they would have been popped and sent to a clone vat by him personally. â€œItâ€™s a matter of disciplineâ€ were his final words as he left the channel.

As Harold joined the alliance chat channel in voice comm.â€™s he was inundated by people congratulating him and speaking to him in voices tinged with awe. As he hits his comms button to try to speak and answer over the clamour of questions about who he is and where he was from, the normally chaotic channel goes deathly silent as the all in it await for their fledgling hero to speak. â€œWell he says id just finished 2 years of guard duty with a mining corpâ€¦â€¦â€¦â€¦â€¦â€¦â€¦.

DISCLAIMER

I did take once again a bit of artistic licence with the thoughts of the members involved and obviously used flowery language to describe events and the personalities of those involved.

But as far as my tactics for escaping the hostile system and the amount of kills we got that day, both are factual.

Cleared for publication by: Ander

a new begining

nospam@example.com (marakor) — Sat, 09 Jun 2007 21:27:00 +0200

(â€œBOYâ€)

As usual the warrior was awake almost before the proximity alarm on his advanced scout sounded. He did not awake like a normal person but like an animal instantly alert and ready for action. â€œREPORT BOY!â€ he called into the comms unit. A young and frightened voice replied, â€œSir scans report 6 hostile battle ships incoming 2 jumps outâ€. â€œHow many available pilots do we have in range?â€ he barked already pulling on combat headset and moving towards his command seat. The new pilot in a shaky voice replied â€œSir we have only 3 battleships a dominix, your megathron and a raven but no support available apart from my scoutâ€. The next words were spoken with so little emotion that the newly recruited pilot on the other end of the signal felt like he had just reported the weather.

(â€œPREPAREâ€)

(â€œPREPAREâ€) â€œFC I have the hostiles on scan there are 4 megathrons, a tempest and a ravenâ€. The warriors mind was like a perfect filing system of combat experience and his response was virtually instantaneous â€œok people fit heavy tank kinetic and thermal, I want a 20km warp scramble point on you all, twin reps and domi I want you fitted for nosâ€. After less than a minute all three ships reported ready. With the same lack of emotion the voice on the comms said one word.

(â€œLAUNCHâ€)

(â€œLAUNCHâ€) â€œOk boy I want a report on these ships movement especially the raven and the tempestâ€. â€œThere movement Sir?â€ came a confused answer over the commanderâ€™s headset. The response was spoken quietly but with passion â€œYES THERE MOVMENT!!!!. ARE THEY GANG WARPING BETWEEN GATES, ARE THEY STOPPING TO SCAN THE SYSTEMS, I WANT THAT REPORT BOY USE THAT RAVENS SCANNERS AND DO YOUR JOB!!â€ This was the first time the fledgling had seen any sort of emotion from his commander and it shook him in its intensity. â€œSir they are not gang warping and it seems the raven pilot is less skilled than others and is warping considerably slower that the restâ€ The smile on the commanders face was terrifying to behold as he gave the command â€œok people get to the short warpin point to the ingate. The boy heard the emotion building in the commanderâ€™s voice but even now as they all came out of warp off grid near the gate his voice was not raised in the least. He said simply.

(â€œALIGNâ€)

(â€œALIGNâ€) â€œSir they are jumping into systemâ€ the boyish raven pilot reported. â€œGood I want notification as soon as they uncloak for warpâ€. â€œYes sirâ€ he replied his heart pounding and breath coming in gasps he switched his view to his arazu pilots view screen that was cloaked 30 km off the gate. â€œCalm down boy I guarantee that if you screw this up you will not live to regret itâ€. There was a grunt of amusement from the domi pilot witch for some reason the boy found to relax him. â€œSIR THEY ARE UNCLOAKINGâ€ he howled over the comms channel. There was a pause of a few heart beats then â€œOk boy I want a tackle on that raven immediatelyâ€ and in flat, quiet but unmistakably passionate voice came the call.

(â€œWARPâ€)

(â€œWARPâ€) The warp tunnel seemed unusually peaceful as he watched the photons he was passing by stretch and distort. The boom that typically occurred as he entered warp seemed like a pale imitation to his pounding heart. For a split second he was hypnotised by the thoughts running through his head. Then the panic set in OMFG THE TACKLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!. He switched to his cloaker in less than a second his fear forgotten in the urgency to do as he was commanded. The cloak was disengaged in a nano second as his hands flew over the sensor boosters, targeting the unsuspecting raven. As his ship informed him that he had target lock he engaged both of his newly trained tecII warp disruptors and sets his orbit. â€œSir I have 2 points on himâ€ he howled, his fear evaporating in the face of his success. â€œOk boy and the others?â€ came the reply that froze his blood as he realised he was probably about to be called primary by 6 battleships and he was in a cruiser. He looks up from his modules and before him was the most terrifying sight he has ever beheld 6 huge battle ships loomed out of the darkness and a single thought runs through his mind â€œOH GODâ€. Then they were all gone, well almost all, the raven was not in sight but it was still on his overview. Excitement replaces fear as he reports shouting in his joy â€œSIR THE OTHERS SIR THERE GONE HES ALONEâ€. The reply was instantaneous â€œI can see that boyâ€ and as he switches his ships viewer to his raven his actions pre-empt the command he knows is coming. Once again the quietly intense voice comes over the comms channel. â€œThe raven is primaryâ€

(â€œENGAGEâ€)

(â€œENGAGEâ€) As his missiles roared towards the target the boy was thinking of an old earth movie that had written on the cover â€œin space no one can hear you screamâ€. He smiled as he realised the movie he so enjoyed was obviously before the invention of particle blasters and the particle rockets that propelled his missiles. This type of science produced a vibration that although was not sound, did vibrate at a frequency the human ear could detect. â€œOk pour it on boy I want this ship down before his friends get backâ€ came a voice over the comms that sounded almost hungry. Watching as the enemy ravens shields collapsed and his armour became scarred, holed and finally after what seemed like only a few breaths the ship seemed to explode light and implode matter leaving a trail of frozen oxygen molecules and fried interface consoles. â€œWe did it sir the ravâ€¦.â€

BOOM!!!!!! The broadside from the megathrons blaster cannons rocked the ship badly. Thrown from his command chair the pilot struggled back into his seat and activated his tanking modules. â€œSIR IM PRIMARY!!!!!!!!!!!!!â€ he screamed into his communication unit. â€œGood for you boy do not forget to run your reppers and your hardenersâ€ came the dryly-sarcastic reply. â€œThe primary has been signalled on your over view the tempest has warped in at 60km so were going to pop the megaâ€™s lock target andâ€.

(â€œFIREâ€)

(â€œFIREâ€) A blur of noise, light, sound and vibration was his world. The secondary and tertiary targets were called and he locked them and scrammed the mega he was designated to stop warping almost without thought. â€œOH GOD! OH GOD! OH GOD!â€ he was tanked to the eyeballs for thermal and kinetic but 4 mega's and a tempest â€œOH GODâ€ his tank was breaking. FLASH!!!! The primary mega disintegrated in a burst of light. â€œBoy your getting pwned get your damn damps on that damn tempest ffsâ€ came the commanderâ€™s voice over the comms. â€œDAMPS? DAMPS?â€ he tried to think his way out of the confusion the thought of his impending death had left him in â€œDAMPS!!!!!!â€ Almost in slow motion he switches his view to the arazu targets the tempest and drops 3 phased muon disruptors on it. Resetting his orbit he immediately switches back to his raven. â€œARMOUR DAMAGE, LOW CAP, SHIELDS GONEâ€. His combat training kicks in as he looks at his booster â€œjust reloaded!!â€ Shield reppers still running. â€œCome on baby i know its 3 megaâ€™s but your fitted for emâ€. Short breaths as the booster's rep a bit of his shield and stops more armour damage and the now primary mega goes into structure. 10 seconds later it explodes EXULTATION suffuses his being as he realises that he is winning.

(â€œPOINTSâ€)

(â€œPOINTS!!), I WANT POINTS ON THOSE MEGAâ€™S. BOY YOUR POINTS GO ON THE SECONDARY BUT FIRE ON THE PRIMARY ALSO I WANT YOUR CLOAKER WARP SCRAMING THE TEMPESTâ€ came the shout over the comms. â€œYes sirâ€ came the reply his voice no longer filled with apprehension or fear, just adrenalin and the confidence that comes from passing through true fear. Hands flying over the controls of both ships he disrupts the warp drive of the secondary ship fires on the second and switches his view to his arazu. â€œ55km off the target 43km scram rangeâ€. The primary mega falls to the firepower of 13T2 heavy drones and the firepower from a raven and the ion blasters from a cousin in design if not in intention. In the wake of the explosion the tempest seems to elongate and disappear as it goes into warp. â€œBOY!?â€ comes a query over the comms channel. â€œSorry sir I was just outside scram rangeâ€. â€œOk letâ€™s finish off this last ship and collect our lootâ€. The boy watches as the final ship easily folds under the relentless pounding of the 3 combat vessels.

(â€œHOMEâ€)

(â€œHOMEâ€), â€œleave the cap charges if they take up to much room align for home when youâ€™re fullâ€. The voice was back to its emotionless toneâ€™ almost bringing the high the boy was feeling to a stop as he filled both his cargo holds with valuable modules that only seconds ago were set to kill him. As he was gang warped to the station the enormity of the experience dawned on him. â€œIâ€™ve fought, Iâ€™ve killedâ€. 6 battleships against 3 and we won.
These were not, as the pilots in the mining corp defence force he had been in called â€œnoobsâ€. These were 2-3 yr old combat pilots with 0.0 sector experience and a few thousand kills each under their belts. Had there been only 3 battleships and a scout available and these guys jumped into the old low sec mining system he was assigned to protect with 6 battleships the whole corp would have docked until they had gone. But here they were taken out with no losses. Ok not with total ease but how much easier would it have been if he had damped the tempest.
â€œA bitâ€ he thought. Laughing out loud as he realised that you did live and learn.

(â€œKIDâ€)

â€œSir it was amazing I never thought combat could be like that. I have spent the last 2 years guarding miners and running from anything that even looks like a even fight let alone being out numberedâ€. The commanders reply was quite predictable â€œ what do you expect from a bunch of care bear roid raiders boyâ€. â€œSir my name is Harold you said id stop being called boy if I survived my first engagement. â€œ I do seem to remember saying thatâ€. Yes Sirâ€ he replied smiling like the youngster he was. â€œOk kid congratulations on your promotion if your alive in a month remind me and Iâ€™ll give you anotherâ€ The commander said smiling for the first time since they had met. He did not argue as it had just dawned on him how much he had to learn about his new career.

Disclaimer
The events, tactics and numbers involved were totally accurate including the game age of all players concerned and the victory was one I was particularly proud of.

Although I hope you will forgive me for taking poetic licence with the characters there thoughts and what was actually said and of course thought during the combat.

Cleared for publication by: Ander