The Wild Karrde.

•December 12, 2014 • Leave a Comment

The scout yawned in her pod goo as the systems came back online. She’d been out here for months, now, keeping an eye on a particular Anoikis system, watching the locals come and go–the Sleeper drones dying–the Forcefields flickering. Not much had changed in the Pulsar system.

There were the days that she had lived in the Word of Blake, and had flown with the fleet. But now she was part of her CEO’s Errant Venture and so she was here, keeping an eye on her Wspace.

She did a good job. Wake up, cloak up, hit D-scan, note the Anomalies present and make notes of it on the spreadsheet the entire Venture shared, scan out all the Signatures and see what had spawned and what hadn’t.

The last group had moved out–the group that had the pair of Starbases. A new, Russian Corporation had arrived with pitiful defenses. At last check it was two Medium Blaster Arrays and a pair of Large Autocannons–set up next to each other.

The scout blinked several times, inadvertently causing her camera drones to switch on and off in rhythm, and keyed in her warp drive. Might as well warp over there to see if the locals were still around. She was still a little tired, and was just keying in some stimulants into her bloodstream when the warp core parted, and she was greeted with a beautiful sight.

The Force Field was down.

She grinned, and sent off a message to the Word of Blake. The Claiming had begun.

It wasn’t until an hour later after several excited discussions with her superior that she realized that the tower she was orbiting with glee was not, in fact, the active tower. THAT tower was still online. She had made a mistake with her labelling.

….but with the preparations already underway, the decision was made to push forward with the burning of the new system–dubbed the “Wild Karrde”–would commence. A pair of Oracles had been delivered to the Word of Blake, and a shipment of Coercers were on their way in. It was time to scan down the exits.

Lindsay en Gravonere watched carefully as items were moved from one side of the Word of Blake starbase to the other. Moved from incoming Iteron Mark Vs into a Nereus designated for emergency backup starbase storage. Incoming Coercers dropped into the Hangar Array and carefully fitted.

It had been an exciting day. The first report from a fellow Venturer had come back from one of the newly-discovered Shattered systems, all of their goods had been shipped to market, and the realization of just how much C72 Fullerite had gone up in price (and the stock of nearly 30,000 C72 in the Corporate Hangar waiting to be reacted) had put everyone in a good mood. It was a slightly boring day, with little action, but the injection of ISK into everyone’s pockets was definitely a good thing.

Add to the fact that the Claiming could FINALLY be started, and everyone was just this side of ecstatic.

“New Sig!” came the call over the Corporate Channel. Barely a moment later, an Imicus flashed out of view of the Word of Blake tower, as the prober on duty got to work.

“Hey, uh,” the scout from Wild Karrde spoke up. “Don’t bother.” Lindsay perked up at that, raising the nose of her ship slightly. “That new sig is me.”

“What do you mean,” Lindsay began to say, but stopped when the scout’s Imicus slowed to a stop less than a kilometer away from her. There was dead silence for a moment. “Do you mean to say,” Lindsay asked slowly, anticipation slowly building within her. “That the Wild KArrde is at this moment connected to the Word of Blake?”

“Yup,” came the response from the scout. “You’re the D382 of the day.”

Lindsay grinned, despite the fact that within her capsule it couldn’t beseen by anyone. “Everyone move your ass! It’stime to claim our Wild Karrde! It’s time for the Claiming to begin!”

Player vs. Player or Predator vs. Prey?

•March 28, 2014 • Leave a Comment

Ask almost anyone about what their feelings on EVE Online are, and they will likely mention PVP at least passingly (or in incredible detail) as they tell you what they like most about the game. To prepare for the rest of my post, I will quickly define my working definition of EVE PVP. PVP is any action in which one Player causes harm to another Player. There are some very, very skilled PVPers out there, whether they’re F1eetbears, F1eet Commanders, Solo PVPers, Small squad FCs, Small Squad PVPers, Gankers, Suicide Gankers, Gate Campers, etc.

I am not among them. In any classical sense, I suck. My killboard is full of red, and littered with mining barges and a couple Orcas. Including one now-amusing scenario ~6 years ago where I and an alt went to low sec to mine. 2 Hulks and an Orca on only 2 accounts. ….yeeaaaah………I was WATCHING local. I just looked away for ONE second! 😀 can’t believe I actually got one of the Hulks out. The alt was swapping back and forth between the Hulk/Orca in a valiant attempt to save one of them. Most of my actual kills come from a stretch in the Gallente Militia during which time we broke out from complete Caldari warzone control.

I make no apologies for my killboard, and don’t feel that there’s anything wrong with this. I’m just not a big PVPer. If I see a chance I might occasionally take a swat at something, but I don’t have very good (IRL) skills for PVP.

Some people might look at my killboard and laugh at me, saying that I suck at PVP. I disagree. I suck at THEIR version of PVP, this is true. But every time I undock (and, often, stay undocked for days, weeks, months at a stretch in Wspace) I engage in my own version of PVP: Predator vs. Prey.

In classical PVP, everyone is a Predator, and everyone is trying to gore everyone else fatally. In Predator vs. Prey, I’m the Prey, and everyone else is a Predator. Every other damn blip on my D-scan is out to get me. This changes things completely. Instead of trying to figure out what my enemy is doing, and coming up with ways to kill them, I figure out what my enemy is doing and ways to foil them.

As my killboard can and will attest, I am only mildly successful. I recently lost a Helios in a wormhole because I got distracted (like I do) and alt-tabbed back when I heard the high-pitched beep telling me someone had engaged me. I had literally jumped through a hole, alt-tabbed to something else, and forgotten about it. So my Helios was sitting there like a dumbass, uncloaked. a HIC or a dictor (not sure which off the top of my head) showed up on the other side too, bubbled the hole, and killed my ass.

New Eden Darwinism at its finest.

I have many, many other stories of losses just this simple. But I have also escaped death quite often.

I and all my alts usually have a cloak fitted, because we operate in Wspace, Low sec, or Null sec. We learn the ways of the cloak early and we use it often. I teach my corpmates as best I can. Nearly every Industrial ship has at least 1 Warp Core stabilizer fitted, more if it’s a dangerous situation and/or I know there’s somebody out there. Even in Hi Security space, we keep our Warp Cores fitted, and cloaks and probes come standard.

There’s a difference between being a nub at Player vs. Player combat and laughingly shrugging the whole thing off.

I don’t play your game, Predators.

To collect my kill mails, you must (and do) play mine.

Will this send more people after me? Maybe.

Will that change the way I play? Probably not. Because every other person out there is already out to get me.

If they catch me, they’re damn sure welcome to my killmail, and I and my Corp make it a policy to issue a GF after every engagement. Hell, earlier today I tipped a Wspace Taranis pilot 10M for an enjoyable game of cat and mouse after I ran sites in what I assume was in his Wspace.

I had just finished running the sites, and had warped my ship to a safe spot and cloaked. I brought in a salvager alt in an Imicus fitted with 2 Salvagers and a cloak to salvage the sites. Not five minutes later I see combat probes out. Over the next hour and a half or so (including some time I left my accounts logged in, cloaked, while I went to get some lunch) me and the Taranis pilot’s corp played a deadly game of cat and mouse over the salvage sites. I got out with no losses, despite leaving an MTU at the last site. I reshipped to a Helios, and scooped it just before someone landed on grid.


Still, it was fun waiting for the Combat Probes to leave, fairly sure they didn’t get a lock, uncloaking the Imicus and warping to an unsalvaged site, spamming D-scan on the site runner to watch for probes, and warping to a safe spot and cloaking as soon as the Combats reappeared. I managed to get about 4-5 additional Nanos for my time and trouble, so I’m happy.

I can hear some of you gritting your teeth at me. “An IMICUS?” you demand crossly. “Why not get a REAL salvager, like a Noctis or at the very least a Catalyst?”

Because the Imicus has Salvaging bonuses. Because it’s small and maneuverable and can get out of harm’s way quickly. And, like most other things I fly, it’s cheap. REALLY cheap. The Prototype Cloak I had fitted on it probably cost more than the rest of the fit combined. If I was flying a Noctis it would have been taken down in the first round or two of cat and mouse. A Catalyst might also salvage faster, but it’s slower.

Besides, a salvage Imicus is cheap and expendable, and can, if a Mobile Depot has been pre-placed, quickly swap roles from salvaging to emergency scanner. Neither the Noctis nor the Catalyst can claim the same thing with the same efficiency of the Imicus. It’s not the optimal ISK/hour, but it’s the optimal ISK/survivability ratio for me.


So in conclusion to a long, rambling post–I suck at being a Predator. Nearly all of my kills that don’t shoot back are from my time in FW, while in a fleet.


But I’ve gotten pretty good at keeping an eye out for predators, and not only expect but relish the challenge that comes from evading the predators. When I’m not being a complete dumb-ass or simply making the wrong judgement call.


So, my dear readers–which are you? Predator or Prey? And how good at your job are you?

The 30-ish-day Venture

•February 24, 2014 • Leave a Comment

So I’ve gone through a few different ventures (and Ventures) in the last few weeks since coming back to EVE, but I have slowly settled into a routine of mainly Wspace activity.


I currently have 2 towers up in 2 separate Wspaces (and 2 more, both mediums, I think) from failed Ventures in the past. Things are progressing nicely, if slowly at times. I’m currently running a C2-C2/Low and a C2-C5/Null. I’ve been playing around with both and am seeing the virtues of both. The main thing holding me back is that when I went on vacation last time I just dissapeared and lost all of my stuff, that wasn’t in a tower, probably close to 1.5 Billion ISK. The road to recovery is long and paved with–ooh, something shiny!!!


I have to admit I have been distracted lately from my Wspaces, and my attention is only now starting to come back around to mainly them for the first time in 1-1.5 of the 3 weeks since I reactivated. The C2/Low is being abused for PI and a single Wspace Gas reaction, while the C5/Null has been used to exploit barren areas of Null Sec. Both Wspaces have dedicated characters that only fly in those Wspaces–and dedicated sections of the Corp Wallet specifically for them. Though it took slogging through one low-end Anomaly to realize that I’m not going to be able to get anything done without a Battleship, and not the Battlecruisers we have been fielding. I have probably a half dozen alts that are capable of flying Battleships and using Large Guns, but haven’t made the leap because I’m Mr. Pennybags.


On top of that, I’ve been relying on old mechanics (namely aged Iteron V fits from before the Indy overhaul) to run my crap around. I realize that it’s time I start buying Cloaky Haulers, especially since nearly all of my alts have all the pre-requisites trained up from my previous PI skill plans. If I wanted to, I could easily get a dozen or more alts flying cov ops.  I also need to rebuy my Orcas. I had a decent mining fleet set up, though it wasn’t used often, to exploit the ore anomalies–the Orcas and Mining Barges were all lost when the FFs shut down.


So I have decided to set myself a 30 day challenge for myself. It’s more of a personal milestone/shopping list of what I’d like to get done in the next month. So, without further ado, here is my (semi-)30-day challenge to myself. Because it’s so close to March, I’m giving myself until April 1st.




Have 6-10 Blockade Runner-capable pilots, and equipped with Blockade Runners

Have 1-2 Orcas per Wspace both for closing and support purposes (whether the purpose is mining or better armor or shield links)

Have 4-8 Ventures in each Wspace for sucking up gas (for reactions or for sale)

Have a decent stock of cheap Iteron Vs, Epithals, etc available

10-25 T1 scan frigs in each Wspace

Get 6 Covert Ops pilots total

Each Cov Ops pilot gets 1 Cov Ops, 1 extra Cov Ops/Wspace

each Freighter Pilot must have at least a Freighter. Possibly JF? (kept in K-space)

Get set up for covert cynos for bypassing gatecamps (Low/Low or Hi/Low)if Wormholes lead to deep Low.

Get 2-3 Noctii/Wspace

Keep 1-4 Salvage T1 frigs/Wspace

Keep 1-4 Salvage Destroyers/Wspace



Each Character that can fly one should have at least 2 personal Battlecruisers available to them

Get at least 2 Battleships in C2/Low, at least 6 Battleships in C5/Null.



Do stupid crap

Get blown up accidentally doing stupid things

Lose lots of ISK

Have 2 Bil liquid ISK not earmarked for anything by April 1st.

Simela IV-7: An Errant Venture

•February 9, 2014 • Leave a Comment

I’m going to run an experiment for a month or two to see if I can do some market manipulation in Genesis. Because, quite frankly, the market is god-awful. If I happen to make a few ISK off the missioners running missions in Simela, so much the better.

Pretty much everything you’ll read below actually happened. Well, the whole Capsuleer porno thing is fake (though there may be one or two past or present EVE players involved in the porn industry. who knows).

Morsus Mihi put out an audio clip of one of their members calling into a sex line and broadcast it on their Teamspeak channel.

I used to run around in Genesis, first in Low Sec, mainly Partod, and then later Simela where I ran a pretty fail but fun and active Corporation. Firvain, currently a Director of the Wildly Innapropriate corporation in Goonswarm was part of this, and probably the only person besides me still playing. I was his first CEO.

I decided to try to start up a market after reading Sugar Kyle’s blog about about her Low Sec store. Naturally, I thought of my old Low Sec stomping grounds, and would have started there, if there wasn’t nearly a constant gate camp on the Simela-Bherdasopt gate. Bherdasopt being the station-less station one jump away from Simela that happens to be a low sec border.

Simela is apparently the only Sisters station with a Level 3 Agent, and I went there not knowing that. I just looked at the market, saw it was crap, and decided to do something about it. I had fun, and learned a few things from my 48 hour experiment in the Simela marketplace. My business model was simple–haul things to Simela from Jita and sell them for a profit but below the stupid market prices in Genesis. And, when I was online and had my main docked in Simela IV-7, thank each and every customer in Local for their business. I called it the “War on Quietbears” to myself. It helped people make Local blink, and it made me happy as I piloted my alt through her trade run paces and watch Kevin Spacey be a damn scary Washington DC shark on Netflix.

Continue reading ‘Simela IV-7: An Errant Venture’

Sea Fever

•February 6, 2014 • Leave a Comment

Himnos Altar glanced at the chrono and yawned. The daily downtime was almost over. He smiled faintly and rubbed at his eyes. Nothing wrong with a vacation now and again, but it was time to get back into things again. Sitting up, he stripped off his shirt, and rose to his feet. He ignored the papers strewn across the floor as he padded across the small apartment and over to the small computing unit set into the wall.

Scratching a particularly itchy spot on the back of his scalp, he idly tapped a few buttons, and soon he was back at that familiar screen. A few more button taps, and it was done. Payment on its way through the fluid routers. His smile spread into a grin. His Concord’s Pilots license renewed, it was time to once again ply the spacelanes of New Eden. The two-month sabbatical had been great, but it was time to get back into things. His fingers stabbed at the screen with renewed energy, sending out messages to friends both new and old. The time for sitting back and lollygagging was over. Now it was time to act.

A final few characters, and the message was sent out. Turning from the screen, Himnos scooped up a Neocomm he had left lying on the floor, and began scrolling down a long list. Yes, he had forgotten to fuel the damn tower before he went on vacation. It had turned off, and all of his stuff gone to the vandals. It wasn’t his fault that his implants started to go on the fritz, and have horrible wireless access for his Neocomms when he went to visit his relatives. He had seen it coming and had made his peace with it.

Just like he had the previous four times.

He did feel bad about all the Tourists, Exotic Dancers, the Prostitute, the Slavehounds, and all of that Tobacco, Quafe, and booze that went to waste, though.

Still, he was a capsuleer, and he could always get replacements.

“I must go down to the seas again,” he mumbled to himself as he reviewed his assets, strewn haphazardly across the New Eden cluster like the mess across his floor, and his wallet, which was depressingly low considering he had just sprung for the pair of Orcas just before he went on vacation. “To the lonely sea and the sky.”

A few more manipulations of the Neocomm and a Myrmidon in his personal hangar had its reactor begin its startup sequence for the first time in a month. Two more swiped and a team of technicians began making a full systems check on the ship and the pod interface. His personal pod, of course, had daily checkups and maintenance, and he had just been to a physician the day before to verify the integrity of his implants.

Himnos yawned again and tossed the Neocomm onto the floor, not even bothering to log off. He carelessly pulled off first one sock and then the other, and tossed them both over his shoulder, adding to the detritus of a 2-week caloric binge that had added thirty pounds to his frame. But that was okay, one self-destruct and he would lose all that weight instantly.

The beauty of modern technology. binging on food and drink with little consequence until you get the medical clone bill.

But, Himnos mused to himself as he pulled one leg out of his pants and started trying to walk as he tried to get his other leg out of the pants at the same time, he made enough ISK to cover it easily, and keep him in ships.

Sure, he was down a couple billion ISK, but whatever. He had an eternity ahead of him to earn it back.

The tower was still up, his corporation’s Custom Offices were still there, and the demand for resources was never sated completely. He hopped on one foot as he tried to get his leg completely out of his pants, but misjudged his balance and fell over. Almost instantly, a fist pumped into the air triumphantly, holding aloft the pants that had tripped him up.

Laughing to himself as he got to his feet, he tossed his pants on the floor, and headed out the door. Behind him, he could hear the cleaning drones finally activating. The entire room would be cleared of all debris, the debris itself destroyed, and the entire room sterilized. Normally they either cleaned as the mess was made, or at certain intervals during the day. But Himnos hadn’t wanted his little binge interrupted by the drones. Before long, he knew, another Capsuleer would take up residence, and the entire cycle would begin again. With varying levels of neatness. And maybe one or two personal items kept for sentimental reasons.

But not Himnos. All of his personal items had either been lost in one or more stupid attempts in his life or stored in a 100-meter thick metal-sealed vault buried beneath a 4-kilometer square nature preserve he had bought a few years before. Or was that the land that he bought in that card game? No, he had lost that land. He had received a few angry letters from people that had lived on the land that had been forced to move to make way for a factory.

c’est la vie. What were those gnats going to do to him? Give him even a Velator and he could wipe all of them out in less than a minute. Not that he would. Unless he was really, really bored. But they were in hi sec, so they were safe.

Himnos reached out a hand and caressed his pod lovingly. It wasn’t his first pod, and it was far from the last pod he would ever fly. But there was something about the first pod back from station-side vacation that was always…….amazing.

With the fluidity born of years of practice, he moved to the designated space on the balcony, and palmed a control. He could hear the whine of the mechanisms as the interface found him, and homed in.

And then he was awake again. That silky smooth voice whispered “Connecting” into his consciousness. His camera drones showed his biological core as the final connections were made. They whirled about in a dizzying ballet, all nearly hitting each other as the fleshy meat sac stood still for a moment. The bipedal machine forced one of its limbs up into the air, and a camera drone shot by underneath the appendage.

At the top of the biological processor, muscles and ligaments moved an opening upwards as Himnos registered glee at once again being connected to a pod. Sounds emanated from the biological core as it stepped into the goo of the pod. The joyous noise known as laughter could be heard for a good distance until it was abruptly cut off as the pod sealed itself.

The pod, freshly charged and its engines idling for the last six hours, darted forwards, moving at speeds no mere human could match, but were a mere crawl for the capsuleer eager to once again ply the spacelanes.

While it was mere moments, it seemed an eternity before the Capsuleer was firmly locked into the Myrmidon-class Battlecruiser. It was only another moment before the tractor beams launched the vertical ship into space. And then he was free.

A course already laid in for home, the Battlecruiser was in warp in mere moments.

It took nearly a half hour, but the time flew by as the pilot reveled in the expanse of a starship compared to the puny constraints of a mere homo sapien corpse.

And then he was there, hovering on the edge of the wormhole that led back home. Away from the Empires. Away from the Nullsec Publords. Away from the petty morons in K-space. He hit the controls, and his ship was sucked effortlessly into Wspace.

And he was home. In the realm of Bob, the petty and spiteful lord of the void. the realm of Bob, the fair and just. the realm of Bob–Himnos Altar’s home. He made a note to himself to bring in a fleet of shuttles to sacrifice to the Wspace deity once he had fully settled in.

The Myrmidon slid smoothly into warp, and flung itself towards the reactivated Forcefield that his irate corpmates had re-ereected. It was a good thing they hadn’t changed the forcefield password.

He was home. To the Carebears who did nothing but graze, the PVPers that were watching his every move, the massive 5/6 blocs with their Capitals, the daytrippers with their crapfits, the daytrip PVPers, the exploration frigs that only poked their head in, and just possibly that nutty Capsuleer that claimed she was an agent of Sansha Kuvakei and spammed up local until someone either popped her or gave her an exit. Well, massive by Wspace standards. By his standards, he corrected himself.

“And all I ask,” he synthesized the thought to himself. “Is a tall ship, and a star to steer her by.”

His camera drones tracked a piece of debris as he came out of warp and into the welcoming forcefield and not-so-welcoming corp chat messages scrolling across his consciousness. It was definitely good to be back.

A tale of two Wspaces

•February 2, 2014 • Leave a Comment

“Shut up and sit down,” the Gallente snapped. Himnos Altar rapped the table with his knuckles, silencing all of the members of his corporation in attendance. “Thanks,” he muttered sarcastically. “I know you can’t all be here today, with some of you on emergency probe duty, a couple of you off mining, and one or two of you shooting at Sleepers. Thanks for showing up anyway.” He gazed at the dozen odd drones hovering around the room, bristling with cameras and microphones, each the home of a display that featured a static portrait of the absent attendees.

The redhead ran a hand through his hair as he paused to gather his thoughts, then started again. “As you know, we’ve got Wspace number two, code name Errant Venture, back up and running to full, even ample status. My bad on forgetting to fuel the tower. We’re working on getting Corp members assigned to specific Wspaces, so we don’t have most of our men jumping back and forth between our two active spots.” He took a breath.  “Questions so far?”

An Amarian in the back raised her hand. “Wouldn’t it be better to have one corporation per Anoikis system? After all, an Alliance–”

“I’m going to cut you off right there,” Himnos growled. “First of all, Anoikis space? That’s as bad as calling it Jspace.” The Amarrian opened her mouth to respond but the Gallantean cut the brunette off with an angry gesture. “As long as you’re in my corporation, it’s Wspace, connected by Wormholes. Anoikis just sounds stupid, and is, as far as I am concerned, the product of some addled egger dialect somewhere that needs to be dropped.” He paused to collect himself. “And about the Alliance thing–I have considered it, but until and unless they develop and implement Alliance bookmarks in the Capsule OS, we’re sticking to a single Corporation.”

Himnos paused and looked down at his notes. “Oh, and until further notice, any and all Ventures flown by the Errant Venture corporation must be named ‘Errant.'” Grumbling erupted quietly, and he chuckled. “When you’re the boss, you can make the rules. And name your Corporation whatever you want.”

The lead pilot from the Word of Blake spoke up. “Things are going well here, just feeling a bit lonely with all the combat pilots moving to the Errant Venture for a mini-vacation.” The portrait didn’t change, just showing the same static picture that showed in every Local channel the pilot was in–whenever the pilot was in range of the Empire’s fluid routers, that is.

“Can I help it,” The Sebiestor in charge of the Errant Venture spoke up “If we have the better Class 2? C2/Low is for suckers. C5/Null is damn fun.”

“Makes logistics a pain, though!” a voice from the back of the room called out, and the room erupted in laughter, both from the pilots in attendance and those stuck in Wspace. Himnos joined in, having done his fair share of the logistics work, as had pretty much everyone in attendance, whether they were there  or not.

“We always seem to find the holes we need when we need them.” The Sebiestor countered once the room quieted down. She paused. “Granted, it may take several hours of scanning to find what we need, but we do okay.”

Himnos looked down at his notes. “Last thing on my list, Crellin, is to make sure you rename the CHA and the SMA. Same as last time, will you? Booster and Mirax Terrik. Thanks for the heads up about the D382. Did you get everything you needed?”

The Sebiestor’s snort came through clearly. “Freshly restocked with a half dozen Battlecruisers, a month’s worth of fuel, topping up of Stront, and several hundred thousand rounds of ammunition? I’d say so. You bringing anything else through?”

“Just a Drake,” Himnos replied. “She got the waveoff from the Word of Blake entrances, said they were being camped. So she’s coming to you. She’s got a good fifteen jumps left until she reaches the first Wormhole.”

“This Errant Venture will be ready and waiting,” The red-haired Minmatar woman responded. “Both the Errant Venture and all our errant Ventures.”

Himnos nodded. “Right.” He glanced at his chronometer. “I need to get back. Everyone, back to your pods, and good luck. We’ll stay in touch through the usual Channels. Thanks for your service and good luck. Hail Bob.”

He strode for the door, ignoring the questions that were being aimed in his direction, only dimly aware of the cam-drones slowly settling to the floor, their screens clearing to a black screen before shutting off as the absentee pilots disconnected from them. Everyone wanted a piece of him.

But space was calling. The bitch. The wonderful, conniving, manipulative, cruel, heartless bitch.

He needed to get back to her.

With a slight smile, he started running down the corridor towards his room, where the rest of his brain awaited. Soon, he would be engulfed back in his brain’s comforting goo. And not long after that, he’d be plugged back into one of his bodies.

He couldn’t wait.


Industrial Ship Fleet Doctrine

•May 17, 2013 • Leave a Comment

Whether you’re a bloody pirate looking for good fights, a bloody carebear who only wants the bloody ores, or some combination of the two, there is one thing that you will Always need when you work in W-Space: Industrial Ships. You could certainly TRY hauling POS Fuel in your Arazu, but I’d recommend against it. All of these fits will be basic (if you’re purely a PVPer, ignore everything after the Wormhole Special), and designed to be disposable, and as cheap as possible while still going Tech 2 in most cases. Feel free to shiny up (or dirty down) the modules, or upgrade to T2 hulls as desired.


So what kind of ship should you use for hauling? Shut up, you Caldari bastard. The Badger 2 is not the ship of choice here. The Gallente out-engineered you. Granted, they needed 5 tries to get it right, but the Iteron Mark V is the undisputed king of Tech 1 Industrials. It can easily hold 40,000 m3 if tricked out with Tech 2 Cargo ‘spanders and Tech 2 Cargo rigs. But I have a slightly different fitting in mind.


Iteron Mark V “Wormhole Special”


Hi Slots:

-Prototype Cloaking Device

-Expanded Probe Launcher (100 Core Probes)


Medium Slots:

-10MN Afterburner

-Adaptive Invulnerability Field x2

-Medium Shield Extender x2


Low Slots:

-Warp Core Stabiliser x2

-Expanded Cargohold II x3



-Medium Cargohold Optimization x3


This W-Space-designed fit will net you 23, 642.1 m3 at Gallente Industrial Level 5 (for you post-Odyseey folks, you needed Industrial V to be able to fly this ship), just under a full jet can. This will cost roughly 20 Million ISK. If you want, you can swap out the WCS for more ‘spanders, for a yield of ~38k m3. I personally chose this fit because it was developed for Low Security runs. I don’t know how many times it’s gotten me out of a would-be pirates sights. Of course, I have lost several to pilots with 3 points, insta-locking gatecamps, and Dictors/Hictors. It is not invincible, but will get you past the pirates that have only one or two points. The Mid-slots are essentially there to let you last one or two salvos from a pirate that has locked you, but doesn’t have you pointed. They can be swapped out as desired. But if you do change the mids, I’d recommend swapping shield tank for ECMs.


While this does not have cloaky warp capabilities, it does have the advantage of being 7-8 times cheaper than the Occator/Viator. That said, if this becomes the backbone of your Industrial capabilities (and if you’re operating outside of Hi Sec, I’d highly recommend it), you should still buy at least one Viator (or similar cloaky hauler), for those times that you NEED to get either supplies to market, or run 10+ Low Sec systems to get fuel. Just keep in mind that this ship’s cargo will be scannable, unlike a Blockade Runner. Be fast, don’t linger, and keep on moving. Because this post is designed to list the commonly used Industrial ships, and the ones that will be available for general member use, Viators will not be covered here. If you want to use a Viator instead of an Iteron V, that’s your perogative, but if you lose it we may or may not reimburse you. Standard doctrine is the Wormhole Special.


Mining Ships:


Venture “Errant Venture”


Hi Slots:

-Prototype Cloaking Device

-Miners of Choice x2 (Gas Harvester, Miner II)


Mid Slots:

-Survey Scanner

-1MN Afterburner

-Adaptive Invulnerability Field II


Low Slots:

-Inertia Stabilisers II or to taste


Rig Slots:

-To taste


-Miner I (or Light Drones if you’re feeling ballsy) x2


A fairly standard fit, the Errant Venture is designed to be a cheap ship that can do a very basic job as best it can.  At Tech II like it is now, it should be roughly 7 Million ISK or so. But feel free to go Tech 1 for a fully cheap ship. Fun fact: Gas Harvesting Ventures can fit a Mining Laser Upgrade, but Miner II Venture cannot.


Retriever “Rock Muncher”


Hi Slots:

-Strip Miner I x2

-Modulated Strip Miner II x2 (if skilled enough–don’t forget Crystals)

-Modulated Deep Core Miner II (if mining Morphite)


Mid Slot:

-Survey Scanner I x1


Low Slots:

-Mining Laser Upgrade x3



-To Taste



-Mining Drone I (or Light Drone of choice if you’re feeling ballsy) x5


Properly skilled, you can fit all of this in without rigs/implants. If you’re not there yet, you should probably ditch the Survey Scanner. Rocks in W-Space are plentiful enough and thick enough that you don’t really need to know how much each ‘roid has. Though if you’re OCD about it and need to keep hitting the scan button, keep it on.

Again, fairly standard. Not much you can do in a Retriever. Nowhere near enough HP/Resists to try Armor Tank, not enough slots for Shield Tank. Besides, real men Honor Tank. If a hostile sees you mining in a Retriever in your W-Space and decides to pop you, you’re generally too slow to escape, unless they fumble big time. You’ll either get hit with a bomb or a bubble. So keep an eye on the Directional Scanner and pray they don’t have Cloakies.


But if you do get popped, you’re only out 30-40 Million ISK, not the 100+ Million ISK of a Tech II/Shiny Exhumer. A few anomalies (or Ore runs), and you can get back out there. in a shiny new Retriever.


Salvager “O’Hearn”


Hi Slots:

-Small Tractor Beam I (or II to taste) x3

-Salver I (or II to taste) x5


Mid Slots:

-10MN Microwarpdrive II

-Codebreaker II (or Analyzer II depending on site type)


Low Slots:

-Inertia Stabilisers II x3 (or to Taste)


Rig Slots:

-Salvage Tackle I x3



-Salvage Drone I x5


Again, fairly standard Noctis. Not much else you can do with it if you want it to serve its intended purpose. This will be the backbone of any Wspace operation, so take care of it and try to keep spares in your Ship Maintenance Array at all times. And hope you don’t get jumped. Watch the Directional Scanner and beware of Cloakies.

Rest and Relaxation

•May 17, 2013 • Leave a Comment

The bar was full. The entire Corporation, save for the one or two who had volunteered to stay behind, in attendance. It wasn’t much, but then Low Sec stations rarely had the amenities of Jita or Dodixie. Its bare metal walls were furnished with pictures of celebrities, and the handful of pilots that had made their way through the bar. Proudly displayed above the bar was a picture of Fatal, the Rabbit, and the old bar tender pouring both of them drinks in this very bar.

Lindsay savored her flavored Sweetwater, and looked around. This high up in a station was generally reserved for pod pilots in High Security space, but here in the .1 security backwaters, a few non-eggers huddled in the corners, trying hard to ignore and be ignored by the immortal pilots who made and lost the entire net worth of their home towns and station levels daily. There were no civilized people here, only the rough-skinned, scarred faces and wary glances of people who worked hard to make their way through life, and had to fight to keep it.

She couldn’t imagine living life in a single place, never moving more than a few hundred kilometers for years at a time. There was too much to see, too much to explore, too much to build. And too much to destroy. Self-consciously, she scratched the back of her neck, her fingers probing the metal sockets that ensured her immortality.

No. She wasn’t like these people any more. She was better.

She glanced up at the rest of the bar. Her corporation crowded around, laughing, making jokes, teasing each other. Blowing off steam. It had been so long since any of them had been walking around, and not floating in pod goo. They came in all shapes, sizes, and races. But ironically, almost half of them were related. Eight Sisters, their two cousins, and nearly a dozen others that the Boss had gathered together.

They all trusted each other implicity, something incredibly rare in the New Eden Cluster, and together made and lost small fortunes that some of the richer Corporations and Alliances would merely snicker at for being so small. But it worked for them.

Caldari and Gallente treating each other honorably, Amarr obeying Matari orders, it was a rare moment of cooperation that the Four Nations could learn a lesson from. But then they’d have to take the five seconds to pull their heads out of their–“Wrap it up!” the Boss shouted. “Stability won’t hold for that much longer! I want everyone in their pods and ready to go in twenty minutes!” His eyes scanned the room, catching certain eyes. “Some of you need to wait for the all clear, you know who you are.” He reached up and scratched at his red hair. “I know we don’t get out often, but we’ll have another Run in a week or so.” A cheer rose from the capsuleers as several began to head for the exit. “Lindsay,” the Boss called to her. “Settle up for us, will you? Standard tips.”

Lindsay nodded, and turned to the bartender, just in time to see him let out a breath, relief washing across his face. He caught her looking at him, and his expression instantly went to stone. “Don’t worry about us,” She said quietly as she consulted the small Neocom she had mounted in a holster on the back of her left arm. “We’re not the Pirates you normally see around here.”

The bartender eyed her, quiet disbelief in his eyes. She smiled as she transferred twenty million ISK to the bar. She could probably buy the bar from him for that. “Of course, we’re nearly just as bad.” The bartender’s eyes briefly flicked to his terminal that was turned away from him for the moment, then returned to her. Obviously he’d had some experience with some of the more….colorful capsuleers that frequented CONCORDOKKEN-free space. Lindsay’s mouth hooked upwards into a smirk as she turned away. She swept her gaze across the room, then tossed back the rest of her Sweetwater. Without looking back, she placed her empty glass on the bar and pushed off towards the last straggler.

“Let’s go, lover boy,” She growled, grabbing the Civire’s ear and dragging him away from the waitress he was trying to flirt with. “I happen to know the Boss-man wanted you to scout the way this time.” She knew without looking that the waitress was relieved that the Capsuleer was going to be leaving her alone. It was like this every time the whole Corporation save the one or two dropped into a station for some relaxation.

The Corporation meandered their way up to the Capsuleer’s Quarters, Lindsay occasionally having to stop and pull one or two members away from the merchants that were allowed this high up.

Finally, everyone was ensconced in their own Quarters, and were making final preparations. Lindsay quickly disrobed, just like everyone else was doing, and threw her clothing into the rubbish containers. Feeling only partially self-conscious, she made her way across to the gantry in nothing but her underwear, already running a checklist in her mind.

Slowly, she lowered herself into her pod, shivering slightly at the clammy pod goo, and hit a control. And with something akin to electric shock, she was resurrected from the dead as the umbilical connected. The universe was again at her fingertips. Without a conscious thought, the pod closed, and soon her Frigate began rumbling back to life.

The first pieces of telemetry were coming through from the advance scouts. The gate was clear, moving on to target. And suddenly the command was given, and the entire Corporation, save the scouts and the stay-homers were undocked, guarding the Industrials with their precious cargo.

Three minutes later, the entire Corporation was coming out of warp, with reports all around of the way being clear. Since she was the last one through, she caught a glimpse of the Orca coming out of cloak just before she entered the Wormhole. Moments later, the Orca was back through, and the Wormhole closed. Indies reported the fuel was safely in the tower.

One week until the next K-space Day.

And counting.

Ratting in Null Sec at 150k SP

•December 14, 2012 • Leave a Comment

So on my second day in 0.0 security space,  I didn’t have much time, but I decided to make an Empire run for skills. While I was there, I decided to pick up a basic Tristan and fit it out for belt ratting. I speed tanked it with a pair of stasis webifiers, but I’ll probably lose it. c’est la vie, as the Gallantean’s ancestors the French used to say.

Unfortunately I wasn’t quite able to fit everything right away, needing a bunch of skill books. So after a bit of running around I had all my skillbooks training and modules waiting. I even picked up a Tristan, Antimatter S, and a Hobgoblin BPO.

I checked the gate several times, as I noticed a gate camp was in place as I was heading out from null sec to high sec. Just before my final skills finished, I noticed that the camp had cleared, though there were still over twenty pilots in local. I headed to the station, checked to make sure I had all my modules, and stuffed the rest of the space with Antimatter S, then undocked and, disguising my heading for null sec by bouncing off planet 3 in case there were any scouts on the station,  jumped through the gate into null sec space. Just before I left Orvolle, I noticed a lone Reaper sitting off the gate.

And I suddenly dreaded what I would find on the far side of the gate.

But there was nobody there.

I decided that there must be a cloaky somewhere, reporting my presence, as I quickly warped the Tristan I had randomly decided to call Samsonite to the next gate.

My eyes widened as I saw the sheer number of ships at the gate. My excitement probably exaggerated things, but it seemed to me like there were fifty ships. Though in reality I doubt there were more than twenty or so. I hit the gate at 0 and slammed the jump button. Only I didn’t jump right away.

Crap! I kept spamming the jump button, and saw the jump animation. Not for me. Ships winked off of my overview, but no wrecks appeared. They were jumping through too. A ragged burst of weapons fire stitched itself across my monitor. I flinched, but wasn’t hit. The force at the gate was fighting amongst themselves. I might just make it out in one piece. As soon as that thought crossed my mind, the stargate hurled me to the next system.

The fight must have just started, because there were only four ships, all frigates, on the far side of the gate, but I knew that more were coming. A quick glance at my overview to check their ranges, and I decided to throw caution to the wind. I was well within lock range, but they were already locked in battle.

I uncloaked, and aligned to a planet I had selected. My fingers spammed the warp button. For one horrible second I thought I saw one of them peel off towards me, but they ignored me. Apparently a lone Tristan from someone that wasn’t their enemy didn’t interest them.

I took a deep breath as I hit the planet, and immediately warped to the next stargate. There were just as many pilots as in the last two systems in this system, but it had a station in it. Seeing a clear Overview, I jammed my Tristan into gear and within a minute I was being towed into the station. I had made it. Now all that was left was to let the dust settle, the pirates disperse, and then see if my Tristan would survive the admittedly cruiser-level rats.

It took a bit of doing, but after losing a Tristan to a gate camp not long after, I got another one, fitted it, and went out to the belts. Turns out I can take down most of the cruiser sized rats and most of the frigates, but only after a lot of kiting. I didn’t crunch the numbers but it seems to me that it would be far, far more effective to mine until I can fly a Thorax or a Vexor and actually be able to take down the Cruiser-level rats as well. Except I hear that if I get a MWD I can actually speed tank. Whatever the case, I need to get skills to get my turret tracking speed better.

I’ve been hearing a lot about how the rats now eat drones for breakfast, but it hasn’t been too bad in the belts with my four Hobgoblin Is. I think I’m going to take a week-long vacation, and run the Career missions and possibly the Sisters of EVE Epic arc while my skills bake. After that I’m heading right back out to null sec. The ISK flows faster for less effort, I’m pained to admit. Some people might fault me for coming back to High Sec after only a week, but I’d like to see what the Sisters epic arc is like. I’ll be back in null soon enough.

That’s all for now. Tune in next time, when my Errant Venture continues.

An interesting Beginning

•December 9, 2012 • Leave a Comment

I’m not really sure how to start this thing off, so here goes:


Hi, my (alt’s) name is Lindsay (“Hi Lindsay”), and I’m a carebear (“Don’t worry, Lindsay, we’re all carebears here.” “Want to join my mining corp? I just started it up today! You can be an officer.” “SPAI!” “Lol nub”).


TL:DR? New character goes to NPC Null Sec


I’ve played EVE Online for quite a while, and have gotten quite used to the role. I’ve done the whole mining bit, a bit of missioning, though I never really enjoyed Level IVs. I’ve experienced most of what this star cluster has to offer, with an emphasis on high security space living. Then I dove into my first wormhole, and have never looked back. And I may not have, either, except I was recently directed to a post by Innominate Nightmare (first post was way the hell back in ’06), who decided to start a new character and go out to 0.0.


I’m not going to be quite as crazy as he is, hopping straight into a shuttle and NEVER going back to Empire, but I intend to follow in his footsteps. Namely, make a new character (Lindsay), and 92695832send her into null security space.


But being me, I decided to slightly carebear it up, and give myself an easy mode, if you will. I decided that I’d try out the new Ore frigate, the Venture, and head out into null sec with a few BPOs in the hold, a survey scanner in a mid, and mining lasers in the highs–thanks to an anonymous benefactor. And nothing else. My goal is to prove that new players/alts/etc CAN survive out in null sec if they’re careful.  At first I will be a miner, but as I skill up I will enter combat ships, and use them to clear the belts. And attack targets of opportunity. I’ll make my own ammo, make my own frigates, if I can I’ll get some BPOs out to null sec and make my own modules. I’ll record my journey, both in-character and out, and update any interested parties.


Will I make oodles of cash? Probably not.


Will it be a bit more fun than grinding for max ISK/hour? sure. Do I have other means of making ISK that outstrip what I’ll make at the start by 100:1? Bet your damn ass I do.


Nothing is ever gained without risk. But gain without reason is meaningless.


And so, at roughly 56k SP, ten minutes after logging in for the first time, I set out for my new home in 0.0 space. Namely, NPC Syndicate. Not really thinking, I set as direct a course as I could, and headed for Orvolle, a Venture BPO, Miner 1 BPO, and a Survey Scanner BPO in my cargo hold.


My excitement ran high as I jumped through the Orvolle gate. A Stilletto a Harpy, and one or two other ships were waiting for me, but I knew with my bonus to warp core strength I could make it through. Pulse pounding, I surveyed the screen, looking for a celestial to warp off to. I selected a planetary Customs Office as my destination, and watched my overview carefully. As the seconds wound down and my uncloaking came closer and closer, I watched the distances between my ship and the other ships scroll by. Finally, when the Harpy was 20 kilometers away, I made my move, with seconds to spare.


My Venture whirled towards the planet, and catapulted itself into a warp core. I knew that they were following me. I came out of warp seconds later, the next gate on my path already selected and already spamming the warp command. As my warp drive was spooling up I spotted the Stiletto screaming out of the void towards me, engines active and sensors scrambling for a lock. It came closer and closer. It had a lock! Then everything slid away as I was hurled towards the gate to FD-MLF.


I let out a cackle, knowing that soon I’d be through the gate. There was nothing in this system that could stop me. I reached the gate, the Stiletto on my heels, and jumped through.


And cursed.


2012., waiting for me, were a half dozen to a dozen ships. A quick scan of my overview revealed battlecruisers, an interdictor, several frigates, and more. I was dead and I knew it. Refusing to acknowledge this, I slammed my Venture into gear, only for a bubble to appear less than a second after I decloaked. Seconds later I was waking up back in high security space.

Thank you Goonswarm Air.


Undaunted, I bought another Venture, fitted it, and resumed my quest for null sec. This time I decided to take the low sec route, reasoning that most people would try the high sec route as I did, and it would be more heavily guarded. But people tend to shy away from teh scawy low sec piwates.


This time I made it through with little incident, after slipping an assault frigate on a celestial, I made it through to unpopulated space. Though I wasn’t armed with BPOs, I had other things besides. I had just my miners, my frigate, my survey scanner, and my wits to let me survive. As soon as I could, I docked up and set my clone to the station. Then I began mining in my Venture.


But, you say, the ebil pirates! What about them???


To that I say I watch local and when someone else appears I spam D Scan. I don’t spend all my time at the belts, like this, but it sure as hell cuts down on losses. I had a bit of fun laughing at a cloaky Tengu that appeared between D-Scans and tried to pop me. But my +2 Warp Core Strength role bonus let me warp off, laughing as the adrenaline coursed through my veins. At the same time, I was somewhat sobered. If he had been a ‘dictor, I would have been dead if I had missed him between D-Scans. Or a bomber. Or if he had had a warp jammer that had a strength of 3 (yes, those do exist).


I do believe it is possible for me to thrive out here. I just need to be sure to maintain my vigilance. Or I shall be no more than a kill report on someone’s character sheet.