So S- and I have headed to 0.0.
We were originally going to go to alliance territory, but due to some last minute impulsiveness on the part of Mr. S- we've ended up in Syndicate region - universally recognized in my mind as the armpit of New Eden. The minerals in this constellation are weak at best and the locals are, well, not too polite given their charming propensity for firing on us if they get the chance.
Hell, I've seen sexier space underneath leaking cargo containers in Sahsha biohazard haulers, or uh somewhere else unpleasant - but this place has its merits. I could probably muster some hyperbole, but it is getting pretty late.
This place has a way of making the nerves more active. The smooth Jazz radio station here doesn't help anything . . . nothing but smoooooth Jazz.
Anyway, some time passes. I briefly wonder what is going on back in the Federation and whether my fanged frigate has crew. I didn't install any . . . perhaps they feed the nanobots?
I exit a station to head off for some scanning when a player that had been docked with me undocks directly behind me - he shows up yellow on the overview. There was a brief second before both of us realized the circumstances.
Click.
Cleared for publication by: Ander
Smooth Jazz strikes.
Enyo's modules flash to life before the lock resolved and the shields of the prey frigate buckle under the first few rounds of the ion barrage. Another few rounds and the perfunctory armor of the Caldari is a little more than 50% destroyed . . .
Click.
. . . As is my targeting lock. 500ms of pure confusion that stretches into a what seems like a lot more.
A warrior drone and tech II rockets repeatedly impact the shields, bruising them more than I'd like to admit. Warp Scrambled now, I re-activate all my modules. One lock attempt failed. This is shaping up to be a fight instead of a mugging.
Shields are gone now, but the armor repairer is running and the tank is holding. I've got my velocity up and am orbiting inside the ion II's optimal range. I attempt another locking cycle . . .
. . . and am rewarded by the rapid explosion of the frigate's meager hull as the blasters fire the second the lock resolves. The fight is over. Not much between the Antimatter and the delicate progeny of the Sotiyo-Urbaata Drive.
Enyo, once again seducing me with her violence.
As the explosion fades the pod is locked. I open fire, but have drifted from optimal and hit only a few times before the capsule is inside the station as the jammer does nothing to prevent docking.
Damn. Better luck next time . . . for me, please.
The shattered wreckage yields some vulgar tech II debris and some misc. ECM. Nothing worth celebration, but not too shabby.
The pilot left local as I landed at a scan point. I think I'd stopped shaking at that point, but I can't be sure. I don't know about the crew.