The Graveyard Shift

Transition

2009-06-15T21:28:00.005+10:00

Underneath the sky of red
There’s a story-teller sleeping alone
He has no face and he has no name
And his whereabouts is sort of unknown

Eve for me had lost some of its shine a few months ago.

While no exact moment can be pinpointed, a few different reasons contributed to it. Some in game, some IRL. I wasn't getting the thrill of a hunt anymore. I found I was either in a gang ganking someone I would have loved to have stumbled across solo. Or I was solo, engaging someone who was baiting with a gang 2 systems out. It even reached the point where twice in 2 weeks, black ops hotdrops claimed me. I dont mind losing ships, I never have, but there is only so much ganking and being ganked someone can take. I'd say "GF" weather I won or lost, but to be honest, it'd been a long long time since I'd had one.

I tried some new things. I joined CoW, a pvp alliance based in the Great Wildlands who were very focused on my scant timezone. I figured, if its going to be blob vs blob, I might as well have myself a blob. Within 2 weeks, I knew it wasn't for me..... Hours camping a gate and making chit-chat. So I thanked them for giving me a go and moved on.

Wormholes have interested me since they were first unleashed on eve. So I joined Aperture Harmonics. A corp living in a class 5 wormhole partly run by an old friend Ace Secunda. They taught me much about wormhole life and were all excellent guys, organized, efficient and clever. They are destined for imminent greatness, as I'm sure we will all see in the months to come. Unfortunately, RL got in the way of doing more with them and I found my log-ons were so few and far between I had little to offer the corp, and they I, wormholes being such a dynamic environment that required swift organized logistics.... so again, I parted with them.

My cousin, cpt abestos and I formed The Muts Nuts, out of convenience to share our gear. It was then a long term pirate friend "Cussbeard" convinced me to go ninja-salvaging in hisec with him. The loot and the carebear tears are incredible.... The game suddenly felt new...... Salvaging peoples wrecks until they rage... then stealing loot, letting them aggress you, then returning and waiting in a pvp ship.... It is sneaky, bastardly and so much fun!

I will continue to spend some time doing this, perfecting my styles of both looting and baiting aggression, until something more interesting comes along.

There is some talk of The Bastards and Hellcats moving into WH space to plunder a wider section of the galaxy....I will find it hard to resist joining them if this eventuates.

My apologies for absolutely nothing interesting in this entry. I just feel I owe it to my handful of friends to update this seeing as you took the time to follow this blog. Hopefully soon, I will be back with some more stories!

But for now, go fuck yourselves,

ndor.

Nato indi's: The art of escapism

2009-05-28T21:52:00.010+10:00

What tongueless ghost of sin crept through my curtains?
Sailing on a sea of sweat on a stormy night
I think he don't got a name but I can't be certain
And in me he starts to confide. "Gas Panic" - Oasis.

The shifts that I work come with some advantages, aside from my personal joy of radio silence. Space is quiet. Neutrals, hostiles, allies, pass-holders are all in much diminished numbers. This allows me to readily recognize a gang, to identify a pilots identity from the system entry logs, and to familiarize myself with the few pilots who are not transient and identify potential targets and threads.

Respect is something I fucking loath to give without taking a loss, or being made to work hard for a kill, but a group I came to respect when I had neither are the nato-indies of Lasleinur.

The indies, led by Gonty Smithers or Sinistar mine in las. Their standard mining setup is with a Damnation, which I believe hauls, a Hulk to mine and rook to break the lock of anyone who could lock them. They stay aligned and watch the local system access constantly. I've had scouts report them in belts under 1 AU from a gate when I've entered, but by the time I land on the belt, they are in warp towards the safety of their POS.

Never have I invested so much time in a failed venture against miners. I have employed scouts to track them, tried using interceptors, and purpose built ships, but they have escapism down to a fine art. They have earned my respect for their great vigilance and alertness. I have told myself daily that they will get sloppy, but mantra has been repeated daily for months and still, I wait for an error.

I am sure, once we are able to engage them, we will be victorious. Dayshift corp mates hera darkthorn and komoonga made short work of nine of the indi's earlier in the week. Last night, I begrudgingly teamed up with cpt abestos and we fought a nato-indi's drake, Cerberus and brutix on a station in las in my rapier and abestos's drake. Despite being outnumbered and suffering gate guns, we defeated the cerb and the brutix and even podded the Brutix pilot. The effects of bonus'd dual webs cannot be underestimated against blasterboats, as we kept the Brutix out of the fight til the Cerberus was down.

"Good fights" were exchanged with the Nato guys and we made good our exit with the loot, a pleasure to fight a real battle after the last few days of small fish. But all the combat prowess in the universe hasn't helped us catch the mining op. Respect to the indis.

One day gonty.... one day.... but again, not today.

Introduction: Small Fish

2009-05-28T17:51:00.001+10:00

Ndor lets out a sigh as he maneuvers his rapier towards on of the many wrecks his pray has left in space. He had narrowly missed this pilot a few hours before and was not keen for a repeat performance.

He drops his thrusters and glances at his status indicator to ensure he is still cloaked, having made that mistake more than enough times to know how easy it is to decloak yourself out on a wreck.

He slides deeper into his seat and closes his eyes, wishing he had brought with him some booze. Some static comes rips the comms channel and ndor winces, torn between the comfort of allies and enjoying the sweet simplicity of his solitude. He admires the rest of The Bastards, and knows that each have been accepted into the corp through nothing but merit. The static faded and no allies appeared.

Ndor had worked alone for as long as he had been a pirate. Since before he found the first group he enjoyed flying with, the now defunct Black Flag, and now taking the graveyard shift for the bastards, it was a desolate existence. He had often thought he would rather fight alone and die than fight with a group. Fleets breed impatience, groups demand movement, the pursuit of action.... and ndor has long believed the single most valuable trait for a pirate is patience. Ndor is cruel and has a simple demeanor, but he is deeply conflicted. His subconscious occasionally mocks him, calling him a coward for not wanting to account for the loss of others. Calling him selfish for not lending his experience in commanding fleets, but ndor keeps his subconscious well medicated, and few others have dared accuse him of cowardice.
A blip on the scanner snaps ndor out of self-reflection and a glance at the readout confirms the nearby ship to be a thrasher..... "He's back, poor fool" muttered ndor to himself.

He knew the approaching destroyer likely wouldn't be armed due to the space being cleared of rats and fit for a salvage operation. But even it is was armed to the teeth, it would be no match for his rapier. ndor takes no real joy in the killing of people of this ilk. There is no challenge, no glorious pats on the back for a great solo kill, but it doesnt matter to ndor. KuRo TsuKi is running missions in an area the bastards patrol. It doesnt matter to ndor if he is flying a velator or a caldari navy raven, he is profiting from space the bastards lay claim to and is an enemy. He must pay for the liberties he is taking, or cease to take them.

KuRo TsuKi appears on ndors overview, and he lets out a tight grin as his patience had been vindicated. TsuKi approaches the cluster of wrecks ndor was camping.......23.....22... ndor would let him get as close as possible to make sure he could bump TsuKi in case he was quick to align before his decloaking delay had expired. 17....14.... Suddenly, the rapier was jolted to the right, ndor glanced to his left to see the wreck being scraped alongside his ship towards the thrasher. Obviously TsuKi is fitting tractor beams. The cloak dropped, so ndor knew he had to strike and targeted the destroyer, locking him before the panic stricken pilot could align and warp away. He immediately activated his warp disruptor and webs, stopping the thrasher dead in his tracks. Ndor opened up his 3 autocannon 425s, tearing through the shield and armour of the dessie. He stopped when the ailing anti-frigate platform was taking damage to its structure, shards of metal drifted away from it and it was seconds from exploding.
Ndor hailed his prey to an open coms channel, however his invitation was rejected.... Not an uncommon reaction. Anger often clouds a victims decisions at these times and ndor punched his cannons once more, tearing the thrasher apart. The capsule warped instantly away to safety. No matter, he wont be back soon.

Ndor sifted through the wreck of the thrasher and found several decent pieces of salvage. He had no shortage of isk, but it serves to compensate him for the time he had spent chasing this small fish. Another crackle of static over comms prompted ndor to look at the time... A fair contingent of the bastards and allied hellcats would soon be on shift, time to head back. Before he leaves, ndor destroys all the wrecks and salvage in the mission, to serve as a message that no profiting in this area will be possible without buying passage from the bastards.

He sets rapier back towards to the station and mutters to himself, not entirely satisfied with the nights spoils, but it was a short shift tonight, there was no time for roams, just for patrolling the nearby systems, and he sooths himself by insisting he had fulfilled his purpose aptly. He aligns for the station, and plans to medicate exceptionally well tonight.