Man…hoooo man… have I got a post today. It all started a few days ago….
We had run out of gravs n sites, so the idea to scan the neighboring C6s for a good move target came up and a’scannin we went.
First system sucked. Four ladars(It’s always #@*%ing ladars), our k162 and a static C6. Which went to a C5. Which went to ectera, ectera, ectera:
at which point I gave up and went to bed. Woke up, decided to try and close the static. Looked it up on WH thingy, says there’s 2.13 mil mass. Alright, I thought, that’s four orca passes and two BS passes. Easy!
Fitting a probe launcher to Blake’s domi, I jumped through and watched for 16 minutes as the orca went through n back, through n back. Finally getting to the last jump, I jumped the orca through….
And watched as the WH shrank to nothing, stranding me and Blakes t2 fit domi on the wrong side. Grumbling, I went to the last WH in the chain and started scanning. In a dominix. w/ tech one probes and launcher.
An hour later, I successfully pinned a nullsec. Not wanting to bear another hour of scanning, I hopped through. Setting destination, I got six jumps before getting the shit blown outta me.
Warping the pod out, I warped another four jumps before getting caught in an intricate warp bubble system and getting blown to bits, ruining my track record of three months in a WH with a full set of +3 implants.
Waking up in unfamiliar highsec, I made triply sure to update my clone and instructed the new guy on how to scan, and waited a few hours before he found the following route:
I made my way back in, we collapsed the WH without incident and scanned a new C6. I went through in my buzzard, and noticed that we had found a cataclysmic C6 WH, or as my reaction in corp chat was:
haav ->OMFG AWESOME 100% BOOST TO RR AND CAP!!!!
I then scanned, and found ->
haav -> OMFG TWO RARIFIED CORES AND FIVE OTHER GRAVS!
I then found the static.
haav -> oh boy, static C6. I love scanning an exit.
Well, two outta three is good enough for me.
Plans were made for a move. I went to the PoSes, unloaded all the reaction thingys, and started unanchoring.
Four hours later, one of the Poses was done being unanchored. I announced our plan to move by setting up the small tower first, then the two larges over the next two days. Our corp leader intervined:
corpleader11oneeleven –>umm…. dudes, I was gonna anchor a pos tomorrow.
I negotiated it to, we would set up one large tower today, he could set up his tomorrow, then we would setup the second the day after. So, I filled an itty w/ fuel, grabbed a dominix and gave the new guy a myrm of mine so we’d look intimidating, went into the C6, picked a nice looking moon and started anchoring.
The moment we started anchoring, scan probes appeared on scanner. “Shit” was the general thought.
Then two other scan ships showed up on the scanner over the next 20 minutes. With four minutes till the PoS was anchored, our dude watching the static C6 of our static C6 said, essentially:
Cheetapilotlollol –> my word, I believe these fellows do intend to assail us!
Cheetapilotlollol –> I do believe you good fellows should expedite your retirement from our large tower, less you be smited!
Cheetapilotlollol –> I do believe they have amassed a vaga, manticore, armageddon, an oneiros and phobos! How charming!
haav –> My word, the blighters have gone and disabled my warp drive! Come, my comrade, and let us see the blighters off!
myrmpilot –> My dear chum, how I would love to assist, but I do believe our attempt at flight has rendered me beyond our remote repair range! How disastrous! Fear not, I shall try to close the distance!
haav–> good show chap! Blake, what possible endeavor has blighted you from joining this rollocky amusement?
Blake –> no answer
haav –> My word Blake, you seem to have made a grave error! You appear to be in a Helios, a ship most unsuited for this rambunctious tomfoolery! My, but the blighters are tearing into you!
myrmpilot –> My word! Haav, despite your best efforts, it seems my armor cannot hold, despite your carefully well thought out tank and RR balance!
Haav –> Oh dear!
Blake –> Oh my, for what reason do I find myself inside yonder station? I merely left my console for more tea and crumpets, and return to discover loss?
Haav –> Blake, dear boy, your absence could not have come at more an unfortunate time, the day is lost.
Blake –> How terrible!
So, everyone in the new static got podded, the tower was anchored and was under fire, we lost a cheetah somehow, and went to bed expecting to wake up to our home system in reinforced.
Waking up the following morning, both PoSes were fine, but our connecting wormhole had been closed. Somehow.
I scripted a plan to activley collapse our static wormholes until we found the C6 again, this was met with agreement once we got an exit and got all the dead people back in w/ replacement ships.
Everyone was in, my orca pilot was moving through the WH chain to home system, being escorted by an alt of mine, when they found the c4-C6 link gone. Turning around, the c4-c2 link was also gone. After some extremly AMUSING hours of scanning, my alt with four probes and no scan skills managed to get the orca pilot out, at which point my main scanned another exit route and got the orca back in.
One hour before we were going to start collapsing wormholes. At 3:36 in the morning, my time. Set times for 3 hours and went to bed. Woke up six hours later, cursed, and logged on.
Apparently we had had several k162s before I came on, but nothing had come out. We scanned a c6, warped to it, looked for the tower, closed it if it wasn’t there, scanned a new one.
Eventually, we spotted scan probes. We figured that we were collapsing WHs fast enough that they couldn’t get a good scan (stupid, stupid, stupid!). We watched the incoming WH for a while, and after a cheetah went through, and came back, and went through the static of the moment, we decided to pull a dick move and trap him in the static hur hur.
We all warped to the WH, and found a tengu waiting for us. We panicked as a group and jumped through the WH. I then panicked as a person and jumped my orca and dominix through, starting a 4 minutes timer until i could jump back through the WH and giving me a 40 second cloak right next to a tengu and a mega specifically specced to keep large ships and others from running away.
My cry of “SHIIIIIT” could be heard for regions in several directions.
Still cursing, I relayed my idiocy to the rorq pilot, who promptly logoffskied. On the wrong side of the static. I uncloaked, launched drones, turned on my tank, targeted the tengu with hopes that if I scared him off, the two warp stabs on the orca that seemed silly a few minutes ago could save my 400 mil ship, which I had just realized had about 1-200 mil of reactants and pos modules in it because I had forgotten to empty it.
Another cry of shit followed.
Then another tengu and a falcon warped in.
Too late to decloak, I tried to make my domi as attention-grabbing as possible, launching hammerheads, priming guns and targeting everything I could.
I was then locked down w/ ECM and scrammed.
Figuring this was as good as I was going to get, the orca decloaked just as the typhoon we had been using to close WHs.
“fuckshit R**** I’m an idiot for the love of god web me”
He was jammed, of course.
Hoping that the four experienced russian pvper(Did I mention they were Russian?) would simultaneously go blind from vodka poisoning, I toggled my AB for a cycle and started to warp to the PoS. Twenty seconds later, I watched amazed as the orca warped to safety, and with even more amazement as it didn’t get stuck in a warp bubble halfway there.
Tabbing back to the domi, went through shields, armor, hull uneventfully, didn’t put a scratch on the tengu, as my track record could’ve told you (0 kills 38 losses).
Annnd now I owe blake another new domi, because I was using his because mine got killed trying to sort the large tower up that we were currently trying to get. I popped, warped to a planet, warped to the PoS, grabbed my scan ship and tore through them into the WH in case they collapsed it and left the Rorq in a C6 without scan support.
Yes, it had a probe launcher but that would take forever.
Anyway, the rorq pilot runs his typhoon through the WH and gets himself to safety. After the tengu and mega show up and start taking potshots at our shields(all the guns were taken down in preparation for the move), I send my scan ship back through, the rorqual comes back through the static, collapsing it and I web the Rorq to a planet where it promptly logs off.
*miningzen is now listening to: We built this City*
The dudes leave (presumably) and we start anchoring some guns again. Guns go up without incident.
R*** scans the new static, two cores, cataclysmic variable so we move right in, setting up everything else.
Fly paranoid. Cause they’re out there.
It had all happened so fast.
Among the many phrases running through the man’s head at that moment, that one was prevalent. The pieces of the proud Achnavah V floated slowly around him, named for an old friend in old times. It wasn’t the newest ship, wasn’t the cheapest, but it was the best he could find with the money he had, not counting the added cost of removing the pod interface so he could fly the thing. Hell, he had been flying the barge for months and was still afraid to pull or turn one of the many, many levers that surrounded the chair, not after the last one he tried had tried to eject the pod that wasn’t there and almost vented the atmosphere (and him along with it) into a sudden, chilly death. Figuring that terrifying experience proved some god or devil was watchin out for him, he had signed up for this expedition. The poster next to the bar made it sound glamorous, promising food, bed and very nice pay, completely shut off from the outside world. After the first few months, however, the outside world found them again.
A pang of loss ran through him as the rotation that had been spinning him slightly to the left and forward for the last ten minutes turned his visor towards the pile of scrap metal that used to be his ship. It could be worse, he reflected. The other miner could have not pinged his scanner (his own scanner currently required 6 levers to be held down while turning a knob, and after the first week of carefully holding down those and only those levers with his body while turning the knob with his teeth, he had scrapped the whole complicated business, assuming that the other, more expensive ships and people would spot danger much more efficiently), and the few second of cursing with his spacesuit could have been replaced with him cursing without atmosphere at the hull of the nearby battlecruiser class ship burning through his ship. The random lever he had kicked at with his foot while struggling could have been something other than the engine bulkheads, which would have not stopped the explosion from the engine room that would have killed him if he had not pulled the ejection lever after accidentally kicking the bulkhead lever. Yes, he reasoned, as a salvage beam played over his suit and the pile of metal he used to fly, it could certainly be worse.
He was about to start listing the ways his situation could be better when the beams suddenly stopped trying to determine if the metal just below his left knee was worth anything and vanished without a sound. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a beautiful yellow explosion, which was puzzling. What barges that hadn’t gotten away had been destroyed completely ten minutes ago, leaving him the only survivor in the belt which, just a few scant minutes ago, had been happily mining. Well, as happily as you can pull 3 levers for each strip miner every three minutes and seven others once the cargo hold was full, all of which in the most difficult positions to reach.
He REALLY should have tipped that engineer. In hindsight, the man was smirking at him a bit too much as he had left the station.
Wanting to see more of the yellow light, the pilot cursed as he rotated out of view, being treated instead to the ships who had been picking his barge’s corpse a few seconds ago lighting their engines and hightailing it in the direction of the light. His frustration at this suddenly winked out with nary a farewell as the section of space in front of him shimmered and coalesced into the ship his friend had purchased before joining him on the expedition, citing a small disclaimer on the poster that being able to operate scanning equipment and detect the fluctuation of this hellhole-pocket of space they were in would result in a nice bonus. The ship had been cheap, it’s systems ranging from anywhere from second to fourth hand, and the scan Equipment worked most of the time. In keeping, the cloaking device that the merchant had assured him was straight from the Caldari navy supply store he had given his friend for his last birthday could only work for three minutes at a time.
The ship was ugly.
He was sure that the designer of the Gallente scanner fitted ship had had a glorious dream of a ship with sleek curves, that would be pleasing to the eye while designed to be invisible. He was similarly sure that somewhere along the line an engineer took the glorious, beautiful design and scrapped it due to a drunken bar bet, replacing the blueprints with those of an item generally seen in the hands of exotic dancers on holoreels.
Regardless of how he felt about the ship in general, as the green glow of a tractor beam guided him into the cargo hold and the ship burned space-rubber out of the , he didn’t give a flip what the damn thing looked like.
Written suddenly while wiring the new lights for the kitchen. Not based on actual events, though some have been close. Seriously, the way the helios looks is why I cross-trained my main for caldari frigate, the damn thing looks like some sort of vibrator. In my opinion.
It was a cold and black day. Not to say that it was colder or blacker than any other day, or if this was a day at all. Such is life in the wormhole.
The miner sat in the ancient hulk, bored out of his skull. Every three minutes, his ship would shudder and the console would tally the new ore in his hold. He would lazily instruct the cargo drones to pile the ore into a canister and jettison it into space. Sometimes, in jest, he would instruct the drones to jettison the container just so that the escaping air would propel the can into one of the other five antique mining barges next to him, then mentally smirk as it bounced off the shields to the indignant cry of the pilot. Then, a green light would snare the can, dragging it into the slightly less ancient hauling ship, a proud if aging Iteron mark V, piloted by the most attractive (read: only) female any of them had seen in the last three months of this expedition.
The asteroid before him silently imploded under the strain of the strip miners ravaging it, and the small group of barges slowly reoriented themselves to the next bistot asteroid, the strip miners for each ship crossing and forming a melodious pattern of whatever the hell the strip miners used to scrape the ore from it’s home; he had always zoned out when the station tech started droning about those scientific whatsita. For all he cared, they ran on pixie dust.
Shaking himself out of his boredom induced stupor, he ran a system scan again, a echo of fear running through him briefly at the thought of an unwelcome visitor. But the scanner was clean. It was always clean. That was the thing about this place. Everything was perfectly safe until you took your eyes off it, like the temporary station they had set up next to planet J-whatever, which the resident mechanic had assured him would never fail… a second time. On mention of the incident where the shields had sputtered momentarily, the mechanic would always point fingers at the sputtering machinery and claim mechanical errors, all of which he had seamlessly repaired with nanite paste and old quafe cans.
Breaking his train of thought once again, the man ran a scan of the system, mentally sighing as he scrolled through the list. Then, he stopped. Re-reading the entry, he confirmed that there was no error.
Sister class combat probes. Five of em. Son of a bitch.
Screaming through fleet chat the impeding danger, he aligned his ship to the nearest planet, ever so slowly engaging warp, glad he had badgered the bastard running this operation to provide him with the tools to soup up his aligning time. It was still far too slow, though.
As the other ships slowly aligned themselves to their own celestial targets, a ship he only vaugely recognized from fuzzy pictures arrived at the belt they had been residing in, deftly manuvering around asteroids even as the miner heard the computer wail about a target lock being established.
One of the new pilots screamed into all our heads, painfully telling us that the Loki had done something to his warp core, that he couldn’t run. Desperatley, the old miner ordered his ship to target the minmatar bastard. He routed power from his useless strip miners to the only offensive capability his ship had, some cheap and shiny electronic countermeasures that just might be able to help the stricken pilot. Engaging the sensor dampener, the ECM modules warmed to completion, but just as it was about to fire, the old man’s warp drive sputtered to live and he was unwillingly yanked from his soon-to-be dead friend and into the void. He was safe, but as he silently set a warp course to the temporary station, the screams of the unlucky rang heavy in his ears.
The old man sat in his bunk, staring at the now empty beds beside his, the voices in his head repeating their screams over and over, his last memory of his friends. The hauler had survived, taking a quafe break in the hangar, and 2 others beside me, experienced men, had survived. The loss of the other two companions, one who he had tried and failed to save, echoed through his frame as he sobbed, the cold unfeeling part of his brain reminding him that he was still alive and the profits from this weeks ore could buy quite alot of happiness.
The past two days in WH space has not been exciting at all. We have lost ships, my main WH partner is stuck in Empire, a corpmate has lost ships, and I have had to learn how to scan down signatures with my less than perfect scanning skills.
Tuesday 13:51 Eve Time
My WH partner and I had an Orca, 2x Hulks, and a Retriever on a Core site when a gang of hostiles came into the system. A Vexor, Dominix, Anathema and a Phobos bubble us and pod us.
After waking up in Empire in a fresh clone, I headed off to Jita to refit. Some 180 M later, I am on my way back to my home base system in the Essence region. I check up on some jobs, trends on the Empire markets and consolidate some goods from neighboring systems.
Tuesday 15:00 Eve Time
A blue in a neighboring C5 system found my corpmate in our C5. Since my corpmate does not have good scanning abilities, he offers to help us find a way out. After a few hours of scanning, they found a route.
C5 (us) -> C5 (empty) -> C4 (empty) -> C3 (idle Frigates) -> Lowsec Empire exit. I get my main and alt back in WH space, but my WH partner misses the C3 -> C4 connection as he tried the route a few hours after I got in.
Wednesday 13:00 Eve Time
Start scanning our C5 with my main character. After 2.5 hours of scanning, I finally find a route out. C5 -> C5 (empty) -> C4 (abandoned Frigate) -> C3 (abandoned 2x Mobile Small Warp Disruptor I‘s) -> C3 (idle Frigate) -> Lowsec Empire.
This was my first adventure on WH space scanning all on my own. It was up to me to find a route out since I was the only one left with some scanning skills.
I don’t have scanning skills trained up to an effective level; I had to get signatures down to 0.25 AU or 1 AU in order for them to finally come up as green which took a lot more effort than what I have heard from my WH partner who has invented in scanning skills. For now I’ve put Gallente Battleship V on hold in favor of:
- Astrometrics IV
- Astrometric Pinpointing I
- Astrometric Pinpointing II
- Astrometric Pinpointing III
- Astrometric Rangefinding III
- Astrometric Rangefinding IV
- Astrometric Pinpointing IV
With Astrometrics at III and Astrometric Rangefinding at II, I am having quicker success when pinning down signatures than I did a few days ago when these skills were not trained. I have also added 2x Small Gravity Capacitor Upgrade I’s to my Helios, which increase Scan Strength +10% with no stacking penalty, for improved scanning speed.
Thursday 2:00 Eve Time
A K162 opens up into our system and in comes a Wolf (Minmatar Assault Ship). Out of no where it ganks one of my corpmates and he looses a Mining Barge and ends up back in Empire. I found out that he came from C5 (us) -> C4 (empty) -> C5 (did not explore).
Not a good few days in WH space.
Well, tomorrow is another day. My goals are to get my WH partner in our C5, haul in some more fuel and some spare Hulks.
It was bound to happen. My WH partner and I were not watching out directional and we got bubbled by the Phobos and killed. We tried to log-off the Orca, but it could not tank the damage.
They were fast to scan us down as I probably was off directional for 5-6 minutes.
1x Orca, insured
Damage Taken: 2617
Corp: Aperture Harmonics
Weapon: Warp Disruptor II
Damage Done: 1601
Name: Pocurk (laid the final blow)
Corp: Aperture Harmonics
Weapon: Ogre II
Damage Done: 1016
Name: Ace Secunda
Corp: Aperture Harmonics
Weapon: Warp Disruptor II
Damage Done: 0
Name: Sole Trader
Corp: Aperture Harmonics
Weapon: Warp Disruption Field Generator I
Damage Done: 0
Invulnerability Field I, Qty: 2
Mining Laser Upgrade I
Strip Miner I, Qty: 2
Crokite, Qty: 279 (Cargo)
Survey Scanner II
Cap Recharger I
Mining Laser Upgrade I
Strip Miner I
Back to Jita to get a new Hulk and fittings. Good thing we have one of our corpmates offline right now and he can get us a new entrance tomorrow when activity dies down.