Old Troublemakers

        "Make sure your ship is fully insured and you've got no implants in your head."

        "Check." Knee replied. Even when going for broke, it still pays to be frugal.

        Knee Anderthal had run in to a couple of old acquaintences from his previous corporation - one of them his former CEO who had passed him the reins in order to come out here to Deklein. Shortly thereafter Knee handed off the responsibility to the next in line to join him in nullsec. Leadership wasn't quite his forte. He found it easier for someone else to call the shots while he worried about focusing the guns.

        Tonight was a celebration of sorts. A battlecruiser roam among old friends. An opportunity to pick some fights and make their presence known, even if it meant getting killed.

        Knee selected a Myrmidon outfitted for close-quarters combat and set out. Two jumps out from home base they encountered a small group of neutrals causing strife - a Cynabal, Curse, and Hurricane. Knee fired his Microwarp toward the Hurricane and Warp Disrupted him, but found the enemy ship too fast to hold. A Nano-cane. Knee frowned at his ship selection as he knowingly admired the tactic being used against him. The Curse began to open fire and Knee opted for a tactical retreat. There's more than one way to fit a Hurricane.

        Knee returned to base and swapped out for a corporate fleet favorite: a Sniper-cane. No need to chase people down when you can hit them from 80km away. Knee returned to the action but found the neutrals had moved out. The gang decided that since the fight did not find them, then they would find a fight.

        Jump after jump found empty systems until the jackpot. An enemy system full of reds. With directional scanners gently probing the dark den of the system, the crew moved from belt to belt, planet to planet. Nothing. Even vastly outnumbered, nobody wanted to come out and play.

        The group moved on, heading to the border to high-sec. A gate camp of friendlies guarded the entrance to hell. They jumped into Torrinos for some shopping. Skillbooks were rare commodities in nullsec. Afterward the attitude became more desperate. It was too far to fly back. They had to pick a fight somewhere, and it might as well be here, CONCORD be damned.

        A couple more jumps and they found a jackpot - a Hulk pilot in the middle of an asteroid belt, seemingly unfazed by the band of Guristas frigates firing on its shields. While it wasn't particularly alarming to see an Exhumer class vessel shielded strongly enough to be able to ignore the meager assault upon it, what was alarming was that it was not mining.

        Occasionally a Capsuleer will relinqish the control of the ship to its crew, accepting the inefficiencies that come with it, in order to take care of other matters. One would think, however, that a mining vessel as prestigious as the Hulk would be constantly at work in order to justify its cost. Were they taking a break? Were they asleep? Perhaps the illusion of safety in high-sec caused them to lower their guard to the point of grossly negligent malaise. It was time to wake them up.

        The battlecruisers landed out of warp and prepared all weapons systems for overdrive. Drones at the ready, target locked. "Fire in the hole, gentlemen."

        In less than a second, the Hulk went from a glistening pinnacle of industry to a blue explosion. Alarm chimes rang, and Knee found his ship suddenly being assaulted by the local police force. His capacitor drained, his engines locked, his hull taking heavy fire. He was the lone captain going down with the ship, having sent out the entire crew of his battlecruiser ahead of time. Though the destruction of the subsystems of his vessel brought sensations that were borderline painful, he felt a glory of losing the battle, yet winning the war.

        The ship was torn asunder, leaving him in his pod, naked in space. He docked at the nearest station and brought himself out of unconsciousness with the adrenaline still flowing. "What a rush!" he thought.

        Knee watched the CONCORD official report come in. Bureaucracy liberated him of his ship for the crime of liberating someone else from theirs. That made things even in the law's eyes, but monetarily it was very much in Knee's favor. A report of the ship destruction saw a credit to his account for the insured hull. The insurers turn a blind eye to the fact that the loss was due to crime. No-fault insurance was immensely popular among the more unscrupulous capsuleers for this very reason. Knee lost ten million and cost an idiot of a pilot a hundred and forty million. Money well spent.

        After the police presence cooled down, Knee quietly purchased a Probe frigate, warped back to the scene of the crime, and looted the Hulk's wreck. The same Guristas frigates were there, and scolded him for his presence with their guns. Knee made haste for his old base in Lonetrek with two of the Hulk's Strip Mining lasers in his cargohold. They would do well to help offset the cost of "business."