Wednesday, May 25, 2016

A Gift from Bob

Since returning to EVE I've been flattered by many "welcome back!" comments both privately and publicly. It reminds me that it's the community of EVE that is the driving force, the glue that holds the game together and, friend or foe, those relationships are what makes the game. There is one relationship which naturally trumps those however, and that is my personal relationship with Bob.

Bob has been very good to me over the years, especially when I was in His service, delivering His holy electro-magnetic cleanse to those who would trespass upon His domain without paying the appropriate respect. Since my return I have seen His favour in small ways but I have also felt His wrath. Today, it pleases me to announce they I am in His good graces once more.

Like most evenings, it is my habit to scan my connections and see what Bob has planned for me. With only one K162 connection to a Class 2 wormhole, I wasn't full of hope. Upon hitting D-Scan and seeing nothing but a Phoenix Dreadnaught in range, my mood instantly changed. I quickly had his position, about thirty kilometres from a Customs Office, delivering waves of Guristas Torpedoes upon it. I knew exactly what to do.


Having joined No Vacancies just 24 hours earlier I immediately hailed all that I could. My HiSec connection was critically end of life but the promise of a Dreadnaught kill is a great motivator. A rather ad-hoc fleet quickly coalesced and burned the almost twenty jumps to my HiSec entry. Unknown to me, whilst the fleet was coming together, the leadership of No Vacancies were bringing in some assistance to prop up our numbers.

With the fleet assembled we made our move. I provided initial warp in for the Sabre and quickly returned to my POS to re-ship into something more capable than an Astero. Light on neuting power, a shield Stratios was the best I could muster and on returning to the fleet the assault was well and truly underway.


The shield boosting of the Phoenix was handling the incoming damage comfortably. Our lack of neuting power meant this assault could drag on for quite a while until I heard of reinforcements arriving. It wasn't just anyone though. It was Wingspan. Is this a bad joke? Is Bob mocking me? How do I refrain from opening fire? Alas, there was no time to ponder, the extra damage output would be welcome and they were soon in fleet, delivering torpedoes to our stricken target. The Phoenix was now running dry on capacitor as the boosting was stopping and once it dipped into armour it was over quickly.


The Loot Fairy, as always, said "Fuck you, Bex", but I care not for her insolence. Bob was clearly pleased and the Phoenix pilot, now without a Dreadnaught, was also without his Slave pod. Wait, what? Yes, you read right, the shield tanked Dreadnaught pilot had a 700 million ISK Slave set in his head. Go figure.

1 comment:

Keep it civil!