Thursday, February 24, 2011

Time to gear up

Made all the necessary phone calls, love letters, insurance forms, and conjugal visits in preparation for my being pulled into faction warfare.  Ran around in Minmatar/Amarrian low security space for a little while, only thing of any note was the unlicensed hauler I found on autopilot. We can not allow this kind of rampant stupidity in our space if the Amarrians are ever going to take us seriously. I do not care that he was a Matari brother, he should know better. Called a friend nearby to take a look in his wreck and take whatever parts he wanted, as a token of goodwill.

Headed back to Rens star system shortly after and did another once over on ships, modules, ammunition, etc. out of sheer boredom/paranoia. Went to dinner, seems they are serving slaverhound in the cafeteria today. Went back to my hangers sleeping quarters and vomited a bit.

After my stomach was feeling better, undocked my Salvaging destroyer to look about the scraps around the Brutor Tribe Treasury. After a few minutes of searching, a pilot in a Dramiel class frigate proceeded to lock my ship up. I took a defensive posture and prepared to scream like a little girl at the docking manager until they let me inside, when the pilot opened a comm channel. It seems the pilot wanted to test his merit/ship on a more seasoned pilot, and chose me. This interested me. I told him I would grab a battle-fitted destroyer and be back out.  Terms were offered, and I let the pilot test his merit. Laughed a little inside, took his scraps into my cargohold, and docked. Station manager wouldn’t let me in at first, screaming about a glacing phased plasma round off his viewing window or something. After about a minute of arguing, he let me inside. Feeling bad for the pilot, I had him come down to my hanger and pick up all the modules I managed to salvage from his wreck.
Decided to test a few more ships out on unsuspecting pilots that night, made some friends, grabbed some salvage, it was a good time. Gallente pilots don’t seem to realize that orbiting them at 5000 meters effectually puts them out of the fight.
Decided I should go to bed, tomorrow night is the night my draft begins, and I am going to need to be well rested for the trials ahead.

No comments:

Post a Comment