"Hell, yeah! That Dramiel douche bag is going down! Sweet sexy super-slicer, I love you!"
Yeah. I was excited. I had managed to catch a Dramiel inside a deadspace complex fighting the Amarr militia. Or most likely, just running from them in a wide orbit. That seems to be the winning strategy among the different militias.
But now, this Dramiel was going down fast.
The micro-warp drive made a terrifying sound. I had not been following it's indicators for a while as I was too busy managing the intricate navigation needed to keep my target within optimal range of my lasers. Now there was no more indicators. A sure sign that the micro-warp drive had burnt out. I sighed as I watched the Dramiel slip out of disruption range and then warp away to safety with shields and armor totally stripped off.
The super-sexy slicer really isn't much worth when it can't get the speed up. I aligned towards the nearest station with repairshop services and initiated warp.
The loss of a Dramiel-kill had clouded my mind.
"Mr. Saftsuze, due to your recent acts of aggression towards a certain pilot of a Dramiel-class frigate, we can not allow you to dock in our station. You know the rules."
"Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!"
I knew the rules. I knew the rules very well. And I closed my eyes, sent a heartfelt "sorry" to my newly fitted Imperial Navy Slicer, and accepted the next incoming message. I just hoped the security officer on watch was of the dry and bureaucratic kind. I was not in the mood for Mr. Fun Facts.
"And as you also probably know, Mr. Saftsuze, since your security status reading shows a history of a rather excessive use of force against neutral targets, you have also been tagged with a "shoot on sight" order for the next 15 minutes. Or was this news to you? Please ready your capsule for space travel, we have now ordered our sentry guns to relieve you of that ship you have wrapped around you."
He didn’t cut off the sound at once. He probably wanted me to hear the laughter from his entire staff melt in with the sound of my exploding Slicer.
But worst of all, the Dramiel pilot got credit for his meager effort in the official report of the incident.
Yeah. It was one of those days. An Amarr station shot me down for shooting at one of their enemies.
Showing posts with label dramiel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dramiel. Show all posts
Friday, August 24, 2012
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Moustache Mojo Level V
It started with a long and hard look in the mirror. Once again I was about to clutter my handsome looks with nasty pod goo and go look for trouble in my Rifter. I told the man in the mirror that this messy affair would have to better be worth it, or else I would have to just start walking in stations instead of flying in space. This time, I said to myself, I will kill something, and, I will survive.
With my moustache ruined once again by the pod goo, I undocked and fired up the directional scanner. Thrasher on 360. Hmm. Mostly nasty pilots in local, but one fresh recruit. If he is the Thrasher pilot, then maybe Old Man's Rifter stands a chance. It was him.
Refreshed by an ice cold body in the cargohold, I headed towards newly scouted systems, still eager to kill — and survive. I found a Punisher lurking at a planet, and since he was having trouble with his ammo loading system, I took him down with ease. Lady Luck was smiling to me. I smiled back.
I gave the Punisher pilot a few tricks on how to hack the ammo system by manually overriding the weapon systems grouping computer, as I just had learned myself from my corp mates. We departed on good terms and the hunt for other flying objects continued.
I headed for a pocket. I have good experiences with pockets. You can find a lot of interesting stuff if you stick your hand into a pocket: Fresh recruits with a false feeling of safety. Naive miners thinking this is off limits for flashy red scumbags. Mission runners with no clue that they have left CONCORD protected space. And other lone hunters like myself. You very seldom find blobs of "elite" fighters.
In this very pocket I poked around for a bit and a Dramiel appeared. That usually means I am moving on. But, as I was in a low populated pocket, I could be very certain this Dramiel was piloted by a fresh pilot. He could very well be feeling safe and invincible in his übership of awesomeness. I narrowed him down to a belt, but when I landed I was alone among the asteroids. Strange. Was he at a safe close to the belt, but off the grid? I started scanning the nearest celestials while sitting still at the central warp-in point. I did not have to scan for long. He came to me.
I was wrong: He wasn't feeling safe. He was feeling cocky, that young, spoiled and rich brat. But youngsters tend to be a bit too eager and never have the stamina for keeping it up long enough. And sure enough, 30 seconds later his shiny Dramiel was a pile of junk just like any other exploded frigate. God damn! The Old Man was feeling sexy tonight!
Now, this would have been a great ending of an explosive night out with Old Man’s Rifter. But there was more to come: Lady Shaniqua! In local!
To be continued.
 |
| I'm looking at the man in the mirror. |
With my moustache ruined once again by the pod goo, I undocked and fired up the directional scanner. Thrasher on 360. Hmm. Mostly nasty pilots in local, but one fresh recruit. If he is the Thrasher pilot, then maybe Old Man's Rifter stands a chance. It was him.
Refreshed by an ice cold body in the cargohold, I headed towards newly scouted systems, still eager to kill — and survive. I found a Punisher lurking at a planet, and since he was having trouble with his ammo loading system, I took him down with ease. Lady Luck was smiling to me. I smiled back.
I gave the Punisher pilot a few tricks on how to hack the ammo system by manually overriding the weapon systems grouping computer, as I just had learned myself from my corp mates. We departed on good terms and the hunt for other flying objects continued.
I headed for a pocket. I have good experiences with pockets. You can find a lot of interesting stuff if you stick your hand into a pocket: Fresh recruits with a false feeling of safety. Naive miners thinking this is off limits for flashy red scumbags. Mission runners with no clue that they have left CONCORD protected space. And other lone hunters like myself. You very seldom find blobs of "elite" fighters.
In this very pocket I poked around for a bit and a Dramiel appeared. That usually means I am moving on. But, as I was in a low populated pocket, I could be very certain this Dramiel was piloted by a fresh pilot. He could very well be feeling safe and invincible in his übership of awesomeness. I narrowed him down to a belt, but when I landed I was alone among the asteroids. Strange. Was he at a safe close to the belt, but off the grid? I started scanning the nearest celestials while sitting still at the central warp-in point. I did not have to scan for long. He came to me.
I was wrong: He wasn't feeling safe. He was feeling cocky, that young, spoiled and rich brat. But youngsters tend to be a bit too eager and never have the stamina for keeping it up long enough. And sure enough, 30 seconds later his shiny Dramiel was a pile of junk just like any other exploded frigate. God damn! The Old Man was feeling sexy tonight!
Now, this would have been a great ending of an explosive night out with Old Man’s Rifter. But there was more to come: Lady Shaniqua! In local!
To be continued.
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
The Milk Men and Their Bottleship
I was out looking for trouble, when one of The Milk Men, a milk delivery service corporation based in a backwater low sec pocket, and whose services I had been interrupting for a while, spoke out in the public local communication channel:
He was right, and boosted by this statement of the obvious, I felt rather invincible. I jumped into their headquarter system with my cursed Jaguar (those Jaguars dies on me all the time) looking for a treat of calsium.
When browsing the results of my 360 degrees scan of the central parts of the system, I almost jumped out of my pod when I got to the bottom result: AnAbaddon Armageddon (see end note 3). In a system filled with fresh recruits! I narrow him down to a single belt, and sure thing: Here we have a bottleship serving the local Serpentis population milk and cookies! I warp in to get some too. I land almost right on top of him and start pounding him with projectiles and a few rockets on the side.
Drev Olacar > I am screwed lol
Well, I doubt it, because there is a lot of fellow Milk Men in system, and I know it is only a matter of time before they show up. His armor is however slowly withering away. Then, as I suspected, a Hurricane, a Myrmidon and a Caracal shows up on my scanner result. Oh well, I will keep on firing until they arrive: This guy deserves a lesson. And that Noble Exchange store needs to build up demand for new underwear!
But they don’t show up! I keep ripping off his armor plates and no backup shows up on my overview! Hell, I even get into his structure! What is taking them so long? Is there a Serpentis Baron demanding huge amounts of milk delivered? As the following conversation shows: He was indeed in need of new underwear as he kept giving his saviours the wrong location because he was too busy trying to save his new trousers and boots from his rather unpleasant accident.
I was so close to killing a battleship all by myself, so I decided to let my Jaguar be sacrificed to the Assault Ship Gods in a last effort to get the kill. With my guns overheated I exploded as the backup finally landed in the correct belt and sent my Jaguar to join my other Jaguars in Assault Ship Heaven.
ONE MORE WRONG BELT AND I WOULD’VE HAD HIM!
End note 1:
After this episode I started flying around in a Dramiel. And sure thing: When flying an overpowered ship (in a few days I killed a couple of faction frigates with ease), I get corrupted and start feeling overpowered myself and think I can get away from anything. Well, I am glad that the Milk Men got some nice drops from me so they can continue keeping me fully stocked with milk and cookies and happy hunting times.
End note 2:
After my Dramiel loss I was going back to Rifters. I had a few laying around with a new fitting I wanted to try. However, on my way back in my pod to pick them up I noticed a Dominix in a mission. I quickly got a probing ship and pinpointed him. Now, the only viable ship in my hanger to kill it with was a Dramiel! So back into a Dramiel I go, and boom goes my first solo battleship kill! Of course it would've been a lot more stylish in a Rifter, but there was not time to get one.
End note 3:
After showing mr. Drev Olacar this heroic tale of my doomed Jaguar, he made me aware that it was his Armageddon I had attacked and not an Abaddon. Well, there you go, I've barely stuck my pod into a cruiser, so how would I know the difference? Anyway, it was a big big battleship!
Zen RaKis > all kidding aside, that is indeed a sexy moustache
He was right, and boosted by this statement of the obvious, I felt rather invincible. I jumped into their headquarter system with my cursed Jaguar (those Jaguars dies on me all the time) looking for a treat of calsium.
When browsing the results of my 360 degrees scan of the central parts of the system, I almost jumped out of my pod when I got to the bottom result: An
Drev Olacar > I am screwed lol
Well, I doubt it, because there is a lot of fellow Milk Men in system, and I know it is only a matter of time before they show up. His armor is however slowly withering away. Then, as I suspected, a Hurricane, a Myrmidon and a Caracal shows up on my scanner result. Oh well, I will keep on firing until they arrive: This guy deserves a lesson. And that Noble Exchange store needs to build up demand for new underwear!
But they don’t show up! I keep ripping off his armor plates and no backup shows up on my overview! Hell, I even get into his structure! What is taking them so long? Is there a Serpentis Baron demanding huge amounts of milk delivered? As the following conversation shows: He was indeed in need of new underwear as he kept giving his saviours the wrong location because he was too busy trying to save his new trousers and boots from his rather unpleasant accident.
I was so close to killing a battleship all by myself, so I decided to let my Jaguar be sacrificed to the Assault Ship Gods in a last effort to get the kill. With my guns overheated I exploded as the backup finally landed in the correct belt and sent my Jaguar to join my other Jaguars in Assault Ship Heaven.
Saftsuze > oh my god - that was sooo worth it
Saftsuze > THIS close to soloing a battleship :p
guzmancho > nice bro
Zen RaKis > lol get your sexy moustache out of here :P
guzmancho > i love his mustache =P
guzmancho > hes a cool pirate =P
Zen RaKis > it is truly a thing of beauty
Saftsuze > Drev Olacar - need new underpants? Too bad the Noble Exchange aint got any yet!
White Bear Maricadie > lol
guzmancho > ripped =P
Saftsuze > :D
Zen RaKis > damn it now he is all skully, skully scares me o_O
Drev Olacar > hehe I was so out of my league : )
Saftsuze > You will learn, kid. We have all been there :)
Drev Olacar > you got my adrenaline up that is for sure : )
Zen RaKis > hey at least he wasn't trying to tank a pvp Rifter in a Retriever
Zen RaKis > that doesn't work in case you were wondering o_O
guzmancho > lol
Drev Olacar > nope I leave that to you Zen : )
Saftsuze > Isnt it a beauty? The adrenaline?! I have it too :D
guzmancho > :)
Drev Olacar > having a post coital cigarette now : )
White Bear Maricadie > lol
Saftsuze > Man, I love you Milk Men, you provide vitamins for us pirates with scurvy :)
guzmancho > =P
guzmancho > we also privde the guns and ammo and ships =P
Saftsuze > But guys, you shouldve let me finish off that battleship. It wouldve been my pride kill of all times andDrev Olacar wouldve learned a lesson!
guzmancho > that you use against us >< :D Saftsuze > The EVE economy in a nutshell :D
guzmancho > he has not to give wrong belt liek 4 times =P
Saftsuze > I was wondering why you guys took so long _ LOL
guzmancho > hehe
White Bear Maricadie > 1 more wrong belt and you would of had him
ONE MORE WRONG BELT AND I WOULD’VE HAD HIM!
End note 1:
After this episode I started flying around in a Dramiel. And sure thing: When flying an overpowered ship (in a few days I killed a couple of faction frigates with ease), I get corrupted and start feeling overpowered myself and think I can get away from anything. Well, I am glad that the Milk Men got some nice drops from me so they can continue keeping me fully stocked with milk and cookies and happy hunting times.
End note 2:
After my Dramiel loss I was going back to Rifters. I had a few laying around with a new fitting I wanted to try. However, on my way back in my pod to pick them up I noticed a Dominix in a mission. I quickly got a probing ship and pinpointed him. Now, the only viable ship in my hanger to kill it with was a Dramiel! So back into a Dramiel I go, and boom goes my first solo battleship kill! Of course it would've been a lot more stylish in a Rifter, but there was not time to get one.
End note 3:
After showing mr. Drev Olacar this heroic tale of my doomed Jaguar, he made me aware that it was his Armageddon I had attacked and not an Abaddon. Well, there you go, I've barely stuck my pod into a cruiser, so how would I know the difference? Anyway, it was a big big battleship!
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