EVE-Pirate.com authors competition!

Well I guess this blows all the carebears' claims that CCP does not support piracy in the manner that TRAPS partakes in it.

I mean, if they're donating loot to us, then they must support it! Time to war dec some more! :)

Good work Ander!

I think what they did to you was unfair and poor customer service

Size XXL? Stereotyping gamers here!

how do i steer my ship?

4getme is my character,[img]http://img.eve.is/serv.asp?s=256&c=1588826840[/img] and she is in the corp called the Noob Mercs. the corp at the time had about 500people and we had an active gang of 450 people all noobs in frigates and t1 cruisers with t1 guns. we decided we will go on a roam with eve-radio as our fleet leaders. =) so we threw it together and all decided we were gonna go and fight goonswarm and help BOB in there troubling times. lol wow we were in for a suprise. so course plotted and 67jumps up on the screen i was in a t1 frig, my merlin. we all met up in the system named Amarr, the biggest ship in our fleet was flown by one of the EVE-RADIO dj's i believe i was dj funkybacon at the time. so off we go our boring trip deep into the heart of Goon space. by this time BOB had already been informed of our advance and stated that they would come to help. so morale went up. we ventured deeper and eventually found a single Goon hyperion, thats all there was to it. lol as soon as we saw it was as fast as we blew it up =D it pretty much instapopped by the force of all of the noob mercs ^^ so our adventure continued and we were about 4jumps from the Goonswarm alliance that we knew would be there with atleast a 100 man fleet. until things took an interesting turn, BOB the Band of Brothers met us at the gate with 50+ t2 fitted battleships and began to wreak havok on us! and as we slowly began to form counter offences a tenth chunk of our forces were already floating in pods. so we focused fire and managed to bring down 2dominix battleships and a megathron battleship before our entire force was reduced to wrecks and pods. but did that stop us from trying to fight back? no! we bumped the hell out of everyone until our pods were eventually destroyed. do we call it a loss? not really, though we didnt get to fight our original targets we did managed to destroy 3 battleships fully rigged and t2 fit with a bunch of t1 frigs and a few cruisers. i consider that win. ^^

I wake up in a morning and while was drinking my coffee I logged in to say hi to my corp mates. Instead of them I saw 4 new guys in our system, 0t-lib. I said "oh they might be some new ratters that came in here, thinking the system is deserted, let's go get them", I took my Claymore, checked the ammo and the cap booster charges and undocked with the hope I'll catch some ratting Raven in a belt before they notice my presence and get organized. No Raven in the belts, but a Drake, I got a point on him and start to chew his shield and when I reached half a pilgrim decloaked near me and started to neut me and throw his drones on me, 20 km away a manticore decloaked too and started to fire torps on me. I was "wow, they got organized before to undock, it seems". I switched target to the pilgrim and slowly started to grind his armor, spamming the cap booster icon everytime a new cap booster charge was loaded, trying desperately to boost as many shield as possible before a new cycle of neuting was hitting me again and again. Finally the pilgrim popped, switched to manti, insta-popped and when I came back to the Drake, I only managed to put a point on him because a Heron appeared and made a cyno before locking him. Two carriers jumped and I had to flee before they was able to lock me and probably neut me again. I had no loot from that fight, but I was happy to stay alive :). Meanwhile my coffee got cold.
http://kb.legiunea-romana.ro/?a=kill_related&kll_id=7940

My kind is not meant for long lasting lives, nor are we meant to endure the rigors of battle for long. Nevertheless ; we are a lifeline to those we serve, the frontline of attack and the first line of defense. When we die, we die in the knowledge of having fulfilled our reason for life.

I have no mother, no father, - I am but a product of creation, innovation and most of all- of war. We - the children of war know little of the generation we succeed, we know only of our brothers whom we will fight and die with. I have seen many come, many go. I have endured wounds and injuries, but lived through them all. With my kind- I am regarded a senior indeed. Still, when I die - for that is a certainty - there will be no ceremony, no tears, no one to remember me. All is as it should be.


Our quarters are within the vessel from where we operate. Dark and metallic. As the red lights of "ready ship" turns on we know that we will be going into battle. That is our reason for being. No day is different from the other as such. As the order is given we shoot out from the bay, from the bowel of this beast called "Megathron". A beast of a quarter of a million tons of steel, agony and death.
As we enter open space, we already know we are in for a fight of life and death - our own! Who we kill to be allowed to lie and fight again is irrelevant.

Local space is teeming with ships and their support. Guns, lasers, bombs and charges fly across the emptiness of space, changing incredible feats of engineering into heaps of metal.

We receive signal to attack another behemoth of destruction A Golem, marauder class Raven. This celestial tool of destruction is in itself a fearsome sight, with its myriad of missile ports, menacing design and unrivaled targeting systems. With a competent commander, upgraded resistance to its shields and improved ballistic targeting systems its name “Golem“ brings truth to its name, a veritable animation of destruction.

Me and my brothers -the only family I know- target, close the range, and open fire. None of us question the logic in attacking an enemy whose resistance means little but dents in its paintjob.
Nevertheless we face the behemoth straight on, unload what we have and continue our harassment. One of my brothers dies in a firework of death. He explodes as a missile hits him with staggering force. He never stood a chance- as neither of us will should the Golem target any other of us. But we do not falter, we do not break, we carry on. Its our duty, its our job, its our reason for being. Death!

The battle wages onward and we are told to change target. We are now to focus our efforts in the assistance of another Megathron commander. New target is a sister ship of the one we are stationed at, naturally from another faction. Rinse and repeat; target, orbit, open fire. Our efforts have more effect here, as my targeting sensors tell me my targets' shields are quickly depleted, and her armor is not suited for the damage I deal. 20 ships and support in our fleet quickly eat through the opposing Megathrons armor, and within seconds her hull is venting atmosphere; a sign of critical failure. I see a myriad of individual lifepods eject, before the large command pod ejects and the Megathron goes up in an inferno in flames.

An explosion in the vacuum of space is in itself a sight for sore eyes. How often do you see an explosion the first goes outward then due to lack of oxygen, turns on itself and implode itself into extinction.
Death can be such an artwork in itself. Fiery, Fearsome and fantastic.

Primary target change to the Dominix called XMAS. In the chatter across the battlefield we hear our commander: "Remote repair ships: keep up focus on your watch list!" our Fleet Commander is an experienced and hardened veteran of many encounters. We change perspective and head towards our designated target. A shooting pain flows through me. Experience tells me I have been targeted and hit. One of the enemy fleets lesser ships have targeted me and are now eating through my shields and armor. I report back to my commanding officer, who take swift action and order me back into the bay of my home. This saves me temporarily. None of my brethren are available for replacement of myself, and seconds later I am out in the vastness of space again. Still exposed to the rigors and risks of space, but at least I am still small enough to avoid the active targeting of the enemy fleet. Being a mosquito in the presence of these mighty ships of space is an awe inspiring experience. The amount of death and agony they spout out with every broadside really give you a perspective of how fragile life is and how easily it can be snuffed out. Just like a candle is extinguished as someone walks by too fast.


The reapers harvest is good today. Myriads of my brethrens has fallen, more so with our enemies. Still - in the face of so much death- we soldier on. WE have no choice, we have no other wish. It is our purpose in life.
And now the Reaper has come for me. Someone has targeted me, leaving me easy prey for its munitions. I am already heavily injured from the hits I received earlier on. My kind are expendable pawns in a chess-game of domination. I already know its my turn to face my afterlife, as I see incoming ordnance aiming for my central systems.
My world ceases to exist. There is no sadness in me, no regrets, no sense of loss. I simply cease to exist. My kind is like this. We exist, we live, and we cease to exist. I have no problem to accept that. Living, fighting and dying is the purpose of our life.
My place in our quarters will be filled shortly. It's how it is in our world. We are expendable; it is the purpose, the reason for us DRONES.