Now what ought I write about today? Better be something that lightens up the mood. I shall… write-up my experience in empire as an empire noob! (No, I didn’t get ganked by the Privateers.)
Some days ago, I sat twiddling my thumbs in a trendy bar in lowsec Empire with a bunch of Brutor dudes (all with sunglasses – you trying to cover a black eye or something sir?), waiting for my neural networks to get to grasp with the fact that I need to jump clone to home space asap. Been taking a hiatus from killing lately – had to ensure my wallet can keep up. I had just returned from picking up and selling some fine loot from the south, but needed another 5 hours before my brain can handle the shock of transferring my soul across the universe again. I was bored to tears sitting in empire with only my trusty crow in the docking bay, and the fact that my corp mates were coming and going back home via cynosural fields didn’t help one bit.
I hit up a friendly Atlas guy who was chilling in his command ship outside the station, who had just scared away a pirate looking for easy kills. After some admiration of his golden Amarr ship he asked if I wanted to test his tank. Men do like to flex their muscles for the ladies, don’t they? Anyway, I agreed, slid into my little Red Vixen and guided the nimble crow out of the hangar. Corpies frequently shoot each other at home anyway, when we are feeling lazy and have no enemies to train our crosshairs on. Good bonding activity, and this guy seemed like a sexy one to bond to. Not one of those shady Matari guys – he was of royal Amarr upbringing.
I steered towards the fearsome command ship. And before the gentleman can jettison a can for me to pick up (so I may flag myself to him), I fired my little ‘Arbalest’ missiles at him.
About half a volley later, I was floating around sadly in my little pod, trying to cover up my parts. Did I mention how distracting it is to be forcibly ejected out of a burning ship into space while being minimally clothed? Apparently, having lived out in 0.0 for the better part of half a year, and renounced my ways of the ebil piratess, I had completely forgotten that sentry gunners do not like to see any pew pew near their stations. Especially those freaky Matari gunners. Or maybe they just liked to have me in a pod, seeing that I turned down their advances in the bar earlier.
I didn’t want anyone looting my crow, so I promptly hopped into the tiny Ibis with a single chunk of tritanium in it, and undocked – hoping to pick up the remains of my pricey ship.
The result is an even sadder Ibis wreck floating along with my Crow wreck, both bearing the mark of EMD. And I had to try to cover up my bits again. I should consider bringing a towel next time.
Back in the station, the friendly command ship pilot gallantly picked up my wreck for me. Thankfully, the only modules that got blown up in my brave excursion were my two ‘Arbalest’ launchers, an overdrive unit, and a named webifier. One of my entrepreneurial corpmates told me to guilt trip the dude into paying for half the ship, which I did with my female charms. The fellow laughed and gave me 10 million isk. Not bad. And then it got late and we decided to bid each other adieu.
Luckily I didn’t have “FC” in my title. What would Atlas think of us…
Special acknowledgement to Sir CollTerminator of Atlas, for his charming company and the giggles!