The Voyeur

Five registered capsuleers in the local communications channel. Not including myself. Only three ships found by a directional scan around the main clusters of celestials. No stations. Two Drake-class battlecruisers hunting the local belt pirates on CONCORD salary. One Jaguar-class assault ship somewhere unknown. And me. In an Enyo. With active tanking, an energy vampire installed and a cargo hold full of the Federation’s finest antimatter charges. It is time to save the local belt inhabitants from the CONCORD-sponsored Drakes. My Enyo – will it handle two Drakes? And is that Jaguar a mate of them? And finally: That last pilot that has not been accounted for. 

I'm gonna poke you in the eye with this, OK?

The known unknown.

As I land among the asteroids, the two Drakes align out, but only one is allowed to turn his warp drive, the other one is swiftly scrambled. My neutron blasters start the elaborate task of overcoming the battlecruisers shields.

Will the other Drake return?

I am settling for a tight orbit and send a warm “thank you” to the Drake pilot for either forgetting the drones in his hanger or just forgetting to launch them.

“Planet X, Asteroid Belt 1. I could need a hand!”

The other Drake pilot leaves system. So they were not buddies then. Or at least not anymore, I guess. Friendship – such a fragile concept among capsuleers. But when will the Jaguar poke it’s nose into this belt? Will someone come to his aid?

The Drake’s shields are struggling under my relentless neutron blasters. We are getting closer to the point of no recharge. Time to fire up some heat. The shields crumbles. It will soon be over.

Smelling a dying ship, the Jaguar finally makes an appearance. Crouching at 50 kilometers off, he is ready to attack. The Drake is in deep structure as the big cat leaps towards my Enyo. It all happens very fast now, and yet it seems like slow motion. I finish off the Drake and make a hard left at maximum overheated afterburner speed straight towards the newly arrived predator. Targeting systems going wild. Warning sounds ringing in my ears, the scrambler has been enabled, the turrets turn and fire, webifier applied, vampire sucking from his capacitor, repair systems ready and preheated. The battle is violent. Big chunks of twisted metal litters the field.

Rapier uncloaks. The known unknown is now very much known.

I overheat my brain and hurl my Enyo into alignment towards the first celestial object I can get a navigational lock on. My guns are still working on the Jaguar that is going down fast. No targeting from the Rapier still. Jaguar explode. And I am screaming “WARP!” even though no-one can hear me through the pod fluids.

The warp tunnel has never been so beautiful. So quiet. So perfect.

Then silence was broken by a message coming through the system wide communications channel. The pilot of the wreck formerly known as a Jaguar address me:

“Kill the rapier and i will be impressed”
I grin and reply:
“I ran”

Then a sparkling sound and the Rapier-pilot joins the conversation.

“I was just there to help incase he wouldn’t get his one versus one fight. I was already watching the fight. I could have ruined the party”

I guess some like to watch.

Epilogue: The official kill report from the incident shows that the Rapier actually helped me with the Jaguar that arrived. I also got the loot later on as the Rapier pilot left the wrecks untouched.

(This log entry has previously been published at The Fighter at the Gates of Hell.)

All Your Battlecruisers Are Belong To Us

One of my favourite targets when flying frigates, is the battlecruiser class hulls. There are all kinds of tactical challenges to consider when engaging such a beast. And the piloting requires the utmost attention as you will often find yourself attacked by energy neutralizers, hordes of drones or the consistent damage from an extremely well tanked missile boat.

Here are five logged encounters with different battlecruisers:

Hurry up, Hurricane
On a rather boring routine patrol to a dead end system I came across something unusual for this particular system: A Hurricane class vessel was clearing the belts of their local residents. My Firetail managed to eradicate his drones after some very good drone management by the battlecruiser. But when turning my turrets against the hull itself, I met a repair system capable keeping up with my autocannons. So it was a stalemate. Thankfully I had fellow rebels nearby to help finish the job. But what happens? When my helping hands arrive, the battlecruiser’s commanding capsuleer ejects and abandons his crew! After some minor autocannon negotiations with the local belt inhabitants, I park my Firetail in space and eject my own capsule. The crew of the battlecruiser was very happy to pledge allegiance to yours truly, as they had totally lost faith in their former command. Understandable. The Hurricane is now reconfigured for more dirty work and it will be flown as a stolen ship. I guess the crew one day will realize their bad luck, because this hull is destined for death and destruction.

Even You, Brutix?
It seems that capsuleers in dead end systems like to cruise around in battlecruisers looking for battle with local belt inhabitants. This was another case of such behavior. This one, however, thought he was safe as he had chosen an anomaly rather than a belt. The capsuleer quickly contacted me through the local communications channel when I landed my scrambler on his big spaceship: “How did you find me so qickly?!” I explained that this is usual procedures in my line of work while I worked my way through his armor. He also made me an offer I definitely could refuse, before he proceeded to eject from his ship to save his capsule. So far, my quite good battlecruiser skills have been used mostly to board and dock battlecruisers that have been left for me in space.

A Sugar Cane
Oh, this was a sweet one. The pilot looked decent enough, but I was feeling sexy and wanted to test my firetail under medium neutralizers. I sure did get one hell of a test. The complexities of managing capacitor, scrambler, webifier, repair system and and killing drones that get launched and withdrawn all the time - well, that is a very intense experience! But once the drones were gone, the tracking disruptor did an excellent job of keeping my Firetail safe from the medium sized guns. However, it was a decent chance that it would get away if my capacitor was bleeding too much under his neutralizers. It was a game of capacitor management. My nosferatu and I, we won it. Then a few minutes later I tried again on another Hurricane-pilot and lost.

Hurricane Downgraded to Light Breeze
There is something about battlecruisers. They seem to be the most tempting ship for freshly graduated capsuleers. Battle. Cruisers. They sure sound scary. But, when flying a big ship, you need certain skills to do so effectively. And that is an important factor to evaluate when choosing battlecruisers for targets. This pilot stood out as an obvious target – and sure enough, it hardly fought back. Oh, it tried, but couldn’t land a solid hit. So I took it down with ease. In my Rifter. That is a lesson I have given many green pilots. An expensive lesson, but it should be good value for their ISK lost.

To Drake Even
The Drake. It is a beast for a single frigate. You seldom find your capacitor neutralized, but there are two major problems: It will do damage to you. And it has a tank that needs some serious damage – and time – to break. So there is no doubt you’re gonna need an active tank to hold out for a while and decent damage dealing capabilities. The tracking disruptor installed on Firetail-class frigate did not become very useful in this fight (allthough engineers and scientists are apparently working on making it useful against missiles as well). The nosferatu and the armour repairer, however, did their job: Buy time. And after the drones was taken care of, the Drakes shields very slowly withered away. My pulsed repairer managed to keep up with the damage from the heavy missiles. And the nosferatu kept feeding my capacitor with just enough energy for my scrambler the pulsed repair system. Once the Drake’s structure began to crumble, the commanding capsuleer agreed on paying me 66 millions in ISK to avoid a rather embarresing loss. I decided that was a good enough offer and let the burning beast warp away.

Two kills. Two free ships. One ransom. This is why I love battlecruisers.

Overheat Scram, Receive Bacon

The Rifter makes a hard break at the safe spot. The directional scanner have just given an intriguing analysis of the central cluster of belts. A Retriever class mining barge! Outside the range of CONCORDS cold hands. I have a hunch this one is not carelessly parked within a force field either, since the vessel is named after a rather recently graduated capsuleer - easily identified in the local communications channel. I do what i do and narrow him down to a single belt. In warp my brain starts wandering and I think of all the events since I returned from unconsciousness.

It started off with an episode quite like the one I was in right now. A Hulk made its appearance on my directional scanner and my greedy pirate soul started counting ISK. Sadly, the Rifter I was in was was fit for surprise and lacked the lethal damage output. Not the best thing to tackle a rather well tanked industrial with drone support. But I smelled a possible ransom and warped in on him. That netted me 70 000 000 ISK. Not as much I’d liked, but it was Christmas time and time to show Santasuze I can be nice too! And I did have some trouble breaking his tank, actually, so 70 000 000 ISK and no kill was a lot better than just no kill.

I’m still in warp. Should I ransom the Retriever? No. But lets ransom his pod!

Speaking of pods. I have cursed myself for not remembering to ransom scrammed capsules. There are a lot more expensive implants flying around than I thought. But, ransoming a pod isn’t always easy. A few days ago I had this “conversation” with a gentleman:

Saftsuze > How much would you offer for keeping your pod?
Ithan Evingod > Your rifter and any other ship I ever see you in again.
Saftsuze > I am not sure I understand, Mr. Evindog?
Saftsuze > You don't want to pay me some ISK for staying alive?
Saftsuze > Will I have to collect your frozen corpse instead?
Saftsuze > Conversation takes place when both parties actually says something....
Saftsuze > I guess your cold shoulder hints that you want to offer your frozen corpse for my collection.
Saftsuze > I thank you for your donation to the freezer, Mr. Evindog.

I’m landing in the belt. Retriever is happily mining. I am charging.

Even this easy target gets my blood pumping and gives me a slight taste of that delicious adrenaline rushing through my clone. But not as much as when you are fighting several enemies. A while back, on my way towards Eifer and the hunting grounds of Executive Pirate Extraordinaire, Mr. Kane Rizzell, I found three little Rifters playing outside a station. I figured that this could be a fun little tease. To my surprise they where all just 150 km or so away from the station, probably making insta-undock-bookmarks or something like that. That meant i could easily drag them out from the sentry guns protective area. And so I did, and they all lined up like lambs to the slaughter. Of course I did one of my usual stupid mistakes and podded one of them just inside of the station guns range. Just when I was looking this sexy I go ahead and explode myself. Silly me. But I shrugged it off, picked up another Rifter and went on and shot down the aforementioned Mr. Kane Rizzel. Feeling sexy again! He was kind enough to mention this very close Rifter fight in his excellent log of pirating. I could have sworn I was warping out my pod, instead it turned out to be my Rifter - or more correct: 10 percent of my Rifter.

Speaking of feeling sexy. I've had a very exciting mail arrive in my inbox! I am getting used to the compliments on my very handsome moustache - I mean, that is to be expected - but they are mostly from men. Funny, that in such a homophobic universe, where “gay” and “faggot” seems to be the most prominent term of abuse, I do get a lot of compliments from other men on my looks. But, I digress: A few weeks back I got an eve-mail sent to me and my CEO, Mr. Bull, that took me by surprise: It was fan mail! From girls in bikinis! Well, it might very well be male capsuleers dressed in bikinis, considering the observation above. But, I don’t really care for sexual orientation or cross dressing preferances: As long as I have actually inspired someone out there to live the only true life of freedom, then I am one happy outlaw solo pilot. So, please go visit those bikini girls and encourage their lifestyle - regardless of your prejudice about cross dressing - hey, they might even be real girls! I have recently been notified about the existence of TWO female Rebels that is not to be considered cross dressing male capsuleers. TWO real girl rebels!

Now, focus! I'm shooting down a mining barge! I guess I got a bit distracted by all this retrospective analysis, because the pod gets away! Damn, I was gonna ransom that pod! While picking up the loot I notice a jettisoned cargo container. A quick peek reveals ore for about 4 million ISK on the current regional market. This guy will come back. He does. Sadly, not in a hauler, but I got the pod and it was released for a very reasonable ransom.

I haul my loot to my safe spot and kick back to wait out the criminal countdown. I'm checking the Rebels communications channel for news, when I hear a strange noise. I think the directional scanner actually made a gasping sound as it revealed the latest result of a 360 degree full range scan: A battlecruiser of the Hurricane class, named after the pilot I had just released from my warp scrambler! A miner hellbent on revenge! My Rifter is already in warp and I preheat my scram, I want to make sure I catch this ‘cane. And so I do. But there is one thing I don’t do: Turn off the overheating of my scrambler. Doing lots of stupid stuff myself, I can easily confirm that the following strategy works: Always bet on stupid! So I play it cool with the no longer scrambled Hurricane:

MetallStill Beddelver > I want to save my hurricane.
Saftsuze > That is gonna be slightly more expensive.
Saftsuze > How much do you have to offer?
MetallStill Beddelver > 11 kk?
Saftsuze > 11 mill?
MetallStill Beddelver > Yes.
Saftsuze > OK, same procedure as last time.

If you don’t have a scram, just remember you can always scam!

Brutix Brutally Broadsided by Babysitting Black Rebel

I was in my Rifter. Not a big surprise, huh? Anyway. I was fairly concentrated inside my pod, and the junior crew members had just gone to bed in their quarters. But a Rifter is not known for its roomy interior and certainly not for sound proof walls. And that noisy warp drive probably kept the junior crew from getting deep into their beauty sleep. So, I had to leave my pod several times to calm them down. Yes, it is possible to leave your pod in a slightly modified Rifter: It’s messy and it’s a hassle - involving a lot of duct tape and cleaning up pod goo, but it is doable once you learn the tricks. Having a junior crew makes you kind of used to goo of all kinds, anyway.

All right! So, back in the pod again, I spot a Brutix on 360 degrees d-scan. It has been named after it’s unimaginative and rookie owner and with the junior crew sleeping tight, I manage to quickly narrow it down to an asteroid belt. Thankfully, that directional scanner makes very little noise.

I fire up the warp drive and prey that the junior crew now is deep into their sweet dreams. Yes! I land on top of the Brutix, locks it up within a few seconds and start spewing loads of Republic Fleet projectiles against its shields. So far: Everything goes as planned. I calmly overheat my guns and settle for a tight orbit. Probably a bit too tight, cause now the junior crew is wide awake again and demands attention - now! I leave my pod once again, while my Rifter is in tight orbit of the Brutix, run to their quarters and get back as soon as I can, only to find the gunnery indicators telling me my autocannons have burnt out! Damn! How could I be so stupid and leave my guns overheated while away from the pod?

Now, what do I do? My single rocket launcher is still going, well, not strong, but still going. But with my lousy rocket skills I’m not gonna break the tank of a Brutix with a single launcher!

I’m pondering what to do, still in orbit, firing Caldari Foxfire Rockets. This is gonna be embarrassing to let go. If I dock up and repair it will probably escape back to high security space and CONCORDS long arms. But no way the rocket launcher will take him down, so this one is probably lost. I sigh and make preparations to dock when I notice something. The armor of the Brutix is slowly withering away! What? Am I breaking his tank with my rockets? Yeah, baby! I am! Lick my moustache, Brutix!

I try to remain calm, not to wake the junior crew again, but this is just fantastic! I am taking down a battlecruiser with a single rocket launcher!* And after a reload and a little while, the Brutix explodes - and the junior crew sleeps right through it! Hooray!

A quick inspection of the the wreckage shows that the Brutix did not fit a tank whatsoever! Good luck for me, and just plain stupid by the Brutix pilot. But, hey, I like stupid!

* OK, I admit a little help from a local Serpentis Baron.

Saftsuze’s Psychiatric Help for Self-Destructive Pilots

Now, some would argue that ratting alone in a battlecruiser - in low security space, with just the very basic skills to even be allowed into the control center of the ship - could be called self-destructive behaviour. I can confirm that this must be the case, as I met such a pilot the other day. He clearly did not want his ship to exist anymore. I offer the following proof: He offered 2,2 million ISK in ransom for his Myrmidon. He self-destructed the ship as it’s hull started disintegrating. I figured he wanted to do the same with his pod, so I helped him. Now he will remain frozen and unable to do more damage to himself - at least that particular clone.

They said: “You can’t fly solo”

Lately, my roaming grounds have been deserted - or blobbed. And I have managed to do, is getting podded and loose a whole lot of Rifters - with no good fights to justify the losses at all. It’s when these kind of periods comes along you start believing the propaganda that says New Eden has no place for the lone hunter. You become impatient and move restlessly with no rhythm or confidence.

Last night I managed to break out of that cycle, as I decided to not skip the dead end low sec pocket I was about to just skip - because I had not seen anything in there the last ten visits or so. So I dropped in, and I got a warm fuzzy welcome in local! Miners chatting merrily about drones!

A bit later, after having dropped off the loot for collection by my fence, I went back to the same system. Miner 1, from my last adventure, was still in system, but now in a Brutix. I was about to call it a day, but I thought that a nice little scare would be a good ending for the day. Nothing boosts morale like scaring a battlecruiser off grid with your flashy red frigate. I found him killing my allies, the Serpentis, at an anomaly. I warped in at 100 km, after all, my plan was just to say BOO!! and make him have to get some new underwear. But he was not scared.

Now, if you read my last log entry, you will see the following statement by this very Brutix pilot:

Miner 1 > I always keep my Hammerhead II just to keep the rats at bay

So you can guess my excitement when I saw a flight of five Hammerhed Is fighting the Serpentis! Time to live up to being the founder of Overheated Hotheads! With the afterburner overheated, and the scram pre-activated and pre-heated I made quick progress towards the target. When I got him locked down, my HUD showed that my allies had shredded his shield, and that he was armor-tanking the Serpentis. His tank was about to be broken.

I guess he quickly understood this was about more than his underwear, and I can imagine him screaming in some corporate communications channel: Forget about new underwear!! Come save my ass!

His help arrived: A corp mate in a Tristan. I was already in the mental state of The Brutix WILL Go Down Even If I Am Gonna Die. YEAH, BABY!

As stated earlier: Scaring big ships makes me feel really confident.

The Brutix exploded, but the newly arrived Tristan quickly made some gaping holes in my armor plates. My guns where already heavily damaged by the overheating, and my only hope was my energy sucking nosferatu and my armor repairer. Structure was becoming, well, a bit unstructured, but the repairer kept giving me that very small buffer again and again.

My guns were already around 80 percent damaged, but they would have to take some more heat as my structure now was critical and the Tristan still had quite a lot of its hull integrity left. My guns glowed in the darkness, spewed out projectiles and the Tristan soon turned into a ball of fire.

I arrived at my safe with 39 percent left of my hull. My guns had 89 percent damage and my nosferatu 94 percent heat damage. My Rifter was SMOKING HOT AND SEXY! LICK MY MOUSTACHE, BABY!

So, you say you can’t fly solo? If you wanna experience this kind of excitement: Join Overheated Hotheads and you will. Dip into The Overheated Hot Tub for a taste of the exciting life as a Hothead!