Greeting The 0rphanage

        Two weeks ago, TEST decided it was fed up with constant wardecs by The 0rphanage. In true newbie-loving fashion, we stormed Jita 4-4 with one hundred Rifters. This was the result. We exploded our ships hilariously and did 200 million in damage compared to 30 million in losses. 0rphanage retracted their wardec a few days later.

        Three days ago, they declared war again. We decided to pay them another visit, and this time we were upping the ante. I had to join in the hilarity.

        We assembled a fleet of Stabbers and Thoraxes. Able to fly both, I chose a Thorax for its greater DPS. Our scout surveyed the field and out of 12 or so hostiles, we decided the Legion was the juiciest target. We sent in bait. The Legion aggressed. Within seconds we pounced and decimated it. This time the damage was 460 million.

        The ambush scared the rest of 0rphanage into the station. We regrouped at our launching station. They came out and camped it. We decided to engage them anyway. This time the juicy targets were gone but we still took out a Harbinger, another Harbinger, and a Drake. We lost most of our ships in the second engagement, but  totaling up the encounter shows we did a total of 650 million in damage with a 463 million loss. This included our scout and bait ships. The cruisers were provided to us by the FC, cheaply fit, and fully insured. By blowing them up, we were paid to participate. It was a pleasure.

Hands-on Training

        Despite the lawlessness of 0.0 space, CONCORD was still out there. Not in any official policing capacity, mind you, but their scouts were out there. Capsuleers fighting over solar systems were of no interest to them. It was the pirate factions they were keeping tabs on. These same pirate factions were constantly pushing their way into Empire space, and it was CONCORD's job to monitor their activity at their nerve centers here in nullsec, and reward the capsuleers who took it upon themselves to act as local police.

        It was in this capacity that Knee Anderthal was flying his Dominix with a group of seasoned pilots and new recruits. The purpose was threefold - to give the new pilots some combat experience, to try and discover hidden complexes that would yield lucrative custom equipment reserved for the Dread Guristas, and to collect the bountiful compensation doled out by CONCORD for their efforts.

        It was during the clearing of one of the Guristas sanctums that a simple training exercise became a bit more real. A rogue Crusader Interceptor warped in to the sanctum 100km away from the fleet. One of the new pilots set after him, but the fleet called him back. Not only would a simple frigate be unable to catch an Interceptor, it would be outgunned as well. So the Interceptor was ignored for the moment as the fleet continued assaulting the Guristas.

        Suddenly the Interceptor decided that if the fleet was not going to fight it, it was going to fight the fleet. It warped on top of the fleet and pounced upon a defenseless salvaging destroyer just 15km away from Knee's Dominix. The fleet immediately rallied for tackle and Knee sent out his Hornet drones normally reserved for Guristas frigates. What was a battleship pilot to do?

        Normal fleets would not have warp disruption handy, but extra precautions are taken in zero. Although the Interceptor was able to take out the salvaging destroyer, it was overwhelmed and exploded marvelously before it could escape. A three-million loss for a twenty-million gain.

        The training for the morning was complete.

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."

Reinforcements

        "If you come back from this alive, I will blow you up myself!" Strong words from a fleet commander to lead you into battle.

        The corp was feeling antsy. It was time to go on a roam. The Goons were planning to take over some Ev0ke territory and we were going to help. In frigates. We assembled in throwaway ships with the intent to kill something or die trying.

        The cruise to Cloud Ring was uneventful. The SBU still had an hour to go before coming online, so we had time to kill. We went to the Syndicate region to cause some trouble over there. Several points along the way we saw hostiles and neutrals in system, but nobody in plain sight. Finally, we landed upon an unsuspecting Vagabond at the Z-6NQ6 gate. He jumped through, we followed. He made a mad dash for the Orvolle gate but we caught him at a bubble in front of the gate. A neutral Rapier showed up but we ignored it, concentrating fire on the Vagabond. The Rapier ran for it as we destroyed the Vagabond and took out the pod for good measure.

        Looking over the CONCORD report, it turns out the Rapier was not the Vagabond's ally. He took a potshot at him as well before retreating.

        Satisfied, we returned to see the SBU come online and an ungodly swarm of Goonfleet ships begin assaulting the Ev0ke tower. It was reinforced within minutes.

        At this point, the fleet commander began to succumb to the side effects of the boosters running through his body. A rogue Manticore caught him by surprise and bombed him, but luckily his shields held. A stealth bomber preying upon frigates keeping watch at a gate was not a good place to hang around. Knee decided it was time to head home, with the Vagabond's Tech II Autocannons as his trophy. Death would have to wait.

First Blood

        "Incoming neutrals." the scouts reported.

        Knee Anderthal knew this was a chance to taste real combat. Even though the pilots were not at war with the alliance, general policy in nullsec is that that today's neutrals are tomorrow's opponents on a scouting mission. Deny their intelligence and your establishment is safer for it.

        The Rifters were already built and fitted. He wanted to be ready at a moment's notice and have spares on hand should he get into a bad situation. He selected one and took off.

        His allies were prepared. Disruption bubbles were set up 10km away from the gate leading toward his new paradise. He orbited the bubbles and waited eagerly, configuring his neural display for combat targets. He caught a couple glimpses of a neutral Rapier, but the ship obviously had a cloak, as it didn't hang around his vision for long. Already the capsuleers were showing they were smarter than the Guristas.

        Suddenly, he detected three hostiles inside the solar system. The team was ready and waiting. The hostiles warped in. A Stealth Bomber, an Interceptor, and an Interdictor. They flew directly into the web and the spiders descended with aplomb.

        Maybe capsuleers weren't so smart after all. It certainly wasn't elegant or even fair, but it was First Blood nonetheless.