Header art by Cryo Huren
I found myself late as usual. I had tried to sneak into the system in a stealth bomber, to be useful. This went about as expected. I didn’t make it past the gate camp in T5. Jumping through the gate, immediately I knew the choice was a mistake. Bubbles and a hundred pilots on grid with me. Which begs the question: Why weren’t you gate-campers fighting while your brothers in titans were dying? I digress. My shields melted, the sirens wailed, I burned. Tossing a good fight in local, I waited for my pod to be sent home.
Reshipping quickly, I grabbed a travel ceptor and tossed some beams on it. I began burning again towards the war zone. Nothing could stop my arrival aside from battleships sitting off gate, cloaked, with smartbombs. Fortunately, no disco party was in my immediate future. I jumped into system. I sat thirty minutes waiting in the warp tunnel. It said cleared in a hundred and seventy three seconds (haha); I wish that were true. One sandwich and three beers later I ran into my next issue.
Finally loading grid, I found myself already red boxed. Scrammed, and pointed, I was pretty fucked, to be honest. I cycled my burst jammer, breaking a few locks. It was honestly too late at that point. By the time my module cycled, the pilot holding me found himself safely at a range I couldn’t break. I had broken the scram and began trying to outrun my captors with my micro warp drive. The slowest death of my EVE career came next. I had immeasurable time to contemplate the state of the universe as I waited for the minuscule damage applied from the camp on the M2 gate to finally put me out of my misery. My pod was slippery, and I managed to escape getting sent home in a fire. I warped to a citadel and docked. Pings for dictors came very frequently while I waited and I would have given anything to have let the dudes kill my pod so I could reship.
Fortunately Mimi had something else in mind for me. I mentioned my situation in corp and a true hero, Kira Jayde, told me there would be a sabre waiting for me in system if I could reach it. I immediately began undocking and making my long journey towards my shiny new sabre. The immense tidi holding me felt lessened by a link shared with me. It was a twitchie named Mind1, who was DJing Saturday Night Swarm. Lemme tell you, he fucking killed. From that point on, Mind1 became the soundtrack to ease the tidi. I reshipped into my new Sabre, slapped a black and yellow skin on it and undocked. After bouncing between a few pings, I found myself on grid, directly in the chaos.
Others had the same plan and soon, there was a swarm of Sabres and all the bubbles our leaders could ask for. We kept bubbling, but even so, I imagine the titans we were bubbling to be ghosts. I received calls for more titans off grid to be bubbled and I warped in, popped bubbles, and watched as Baltecs ate the Wyvern and Avatar. The tidi lessened finally, allowing us to warp around normally as the player count in system fell to about three thousand. I started hunting ceptors for a while before docking up at the fully repaired Keepstar. Even though plenty of fleets would have taken me back to 1DQ, I decided I would be most useful at the “hellcamp” the following day.
With the seal clubbing done, I sit in Big’s High Ground, reflecting on the night. Looking through the memes, reading the pings, having some laughs with fellow bee’s about the PAPI decision to cede the field and allow their super fleet to be hell-camped. I guess I have but one question for my enemy. Did you find what you were looking for?
Welcome to Delve.