Making the Papers

A rather nosy fellow known as Sketur Treveiwerni has been following around various Tuskers recently. He's taken an interest to our corp and its members to shed a little light on the mentality that keeps someone living the life of a pirate going. Corpmate Romeo Blakstorm vouched for him so Sketur wouldn't end up having an accident. Enough reason for me to see what his inquiries would be about.

I was curious what questions he might ask, so I agreed to a scheduled interview at a location of my choice. I got to admit, it was fun. I heard other Tuskers so far have also answered his rather lengthy questionnaire, but apparently he chose to publish mine as the first of the series.

Apart from the interviews being published by the New Eden Underground News Agency, Romeo is also collecting them. Feel free to look up my interview in his logs and stay tuned for more to come.


Stories of a Bored Sap

Usually, bad things happen when you're bored. I claim to have taken this to another level though - when I'm bored, stupid things happen. This might be the first iteration of Stories of a Bored Sap, as I have reason to doubt that this one will be the last.

Figure this: you stray from system to system, looking for something to squeeze some ISK out of it. But you do not find anything like that for the life of it. Hmm.. except for asteroids maybe... but snap out of it, you can't ever be that bored.

That's it, sometime today some pilot must come through these highsec gates, and you're not leaving until then. There had been enough wrecks that showed up only on your second visit of another system. This time you will leave some debris floating around.

Now this is the point where bad things happen - when you're ready to jump just about anything, the debris might as well come from your own ship. Not this sap though, who might be a sap, but still can maintain control of himself and won't bait some assault frigate that would tear apart his Taranis. No sir.

But a single Imicus sitting motionless at a station will bug me out. "Oh what the hell, I'll try to pop it in a fly-by shooting. Others have done it, why shouldn't I do it? Sentry guns don't scare me, I have a hull tank."
I warp to the station and close in on the frigate, which still isn't moving. I choose a safe spot to align to and back up a bit before approaching my target again. Getting near my falloff range I cycle up the guns and let them rip after entering it. "Holy fudge! Ow ow ow! Warp, warp dammit!"

As if I should be surprised, half of my armour is gone and I jumped out too early for the Imicus to pop. Well, better luck next time. Let's sit out the GCC and go repair. I wonder if that Imicus is still sitting outside the station, stirring up some well-deserved smack for me. It still is, but there is no smack. It still is ten minutes later.

Oh goody, my fifteen minutes on the naughty stool are up and I get another shot at that snorting cyno drone! And so I repeat the procedure of aligning on a path that passes my target. "Hooraay, splosions! Ow again, time to cheese it! Wh- why am I not in warp? Why am I re-aligning??"

Because I've selected the wrong coordinates.

With 22 percent of my apparently almighty hull tank left, I finally pounce to 9AU/s. *Pant, pant*, *slap self*, *pant*. *lol*.

It's not that I gained anything from this little venture - of course some bloke came by and snatched the cynosural field generator. Even worse, he traded it back to the victim. "O, woe is me! What has the universe come to? How do I deserve something like that after all my hard work?"


"Oh. Right."


A Killmail Is Fine, Too

You might remember Xildjin, that guy from my last post, who had the urge to run his mouth after turning out to be the luckiest bloke in New Eden - well, for one evening at least. While I myself didn't get the pleasure to catch him, a killmail involving his Omen eventually showed up. It is dated just one day after the little incident I've been a little miffed about.

Real shame I wasn't able to get my hands on this fail-fitted heap of trash. Still, imagining the look on his face when he was having his warp drive scrambled makes me warm and fuzzy inside. "My warp stab, it does nothing!!"

Never since did I get word again that he was out piloting a new failboat.
Mmh, still all warm and fuzzy.

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