Did you ever notice how when you go out looking for a fight, you're always in the wrong ship? You know--you're in a Myrmidon, and all you find are nano ships; or you're out in a Taranis, and all you find are battlecruisers; or you're out in an Incursus, and all you find are Ruptures. Well, that's not what happened today.
Today, several of us Tuskers threw together a pickup gang and went a'roaming, looking for trouble. And what better place to find trouble near home than Old Man Star? As we first warped into the system, things looked promising; there was a Brutix ratting at the top belt (some call it "bait"). Our light tackler--Suleiman Shouaa in an Imperial Navy Slicer--went in for the point. The Brutix was duly tackled, and then, as expected, things got complicated: first a second Brutix appeared, then a Guardian, and then another Guardian. Rather than warping to Shouaa, the remainder of the gang warped to a safespot out of directional scanner range; Shouaa used his superior speed to disengage and began flitting among safer observation points.
We ourselves have had remarkable success roaming in gangs with dual logistics support, so we knew those Guardians, warping in at about 50km from the Brutixes, were not to be taken lightly. Logistics ships, in case you don't already know, are high-tech cruisers that excel at remotely repairing the shields or armor of other ships. In effect, a target ship being remotely repaired by two logistics vessels tanks as though he could perma-run 6-8 armor repairers, requiring a high level of DPS to overcome. But over the next several minutes two things occurred. First, a couple of additional Tuskers reported for duty; and second, we came up with a plan.
Our gang by now consisted of your faithful correspondent in a Dominix-class battleship chock-full of drones and fit with energy neutralizers and remote armor repairers; Suleiman Shouaa in his Imperial Navy Slicer; Novantco, Pajama Sam, and Ronan Jacques in battlecruisers; Robert Mason in a stealth bomber; and Kopecky in a cherished Blackbird.
Our plan was simply to neutralize those two Guardians at the beginning of the fight. We had two ships, a Dominix and a Blackbird, either one of which would probably have led to the decision to engage this target gang; but combined, we worked out our plan with confidence. The key would be to fight on top of the Guardians rather than the battlecruisers--tricky, since only the bait Brutix would initially present himself. But we figured Shouaa's Imperial Navy Slicer would be fast enough to race from the Brutix fight to the Guardians' battle station almost 50 kilometers away, once they warped in to provide support. At that point, the remainder of our gang could warp to Shoua's position at our optimal ranges for an attack on the two logistics ships.
Shouaa went in for the tackle, along with one of our battlecruisers to make the threat a credible one. Sure enough, the second Brutix jumped into the fray, followed closely by first one, then the other Guardian. Our plan was working like clockwork. Shouaa sped toward the logistics ships and within seconds had tackled one of them. We warped into his position, and I landed about 8 kilometers from one of the Guardians. I locked it and began draining his capacitor with my three large energy neutralizers; the idea was that he would quickly have trouble activating his remote armor repairers, which otherwise would be helping keep his partner alive. Meanwhile, the rest of the fleet focused fire on the second Guardian. The captain of that unfortunate vessel was now in real trouble--with no local armor repair capability, he relied completely on his wingman for repairs--a wingman being taken rapidly out of the fight. At the same time, his battlecruiser contingent was struggling to get within range of the fight from their original position 50 kilometers away. And like an Olympian god, Kopecky in his Blackbird sat at a distance, jamming the targeting systems of all four ships.
But our adversaries had another card to play--a Dramiel arrived and began zipping around the battle, activating his weapons systems where they would do the most good while evading our attempts to disrupt his micro warp drive or catch him in a stasis web. Suleiman Shouaa advised that he was hurt, hurt bad. He and I coordinated with each other, and in a few moments he had approached to within 8 kilometers of my battleship; I activated all three of my remote armor repairers, and voila--his armor was as good as new.
By this time, our gang had demolished the first Guardian and was directing our weapons to the second. I continued draining his capacitor dry every few seconds, while other Tuskers began maneuvering to tackle the Dramiel and the two battlecruisers. The Dramiel captain made a timely and accurate assessment of the situation and did what Dramiels do best--he bugged out. The second Guardian exploded, and now the pair of Gallente battlecruisers came under the full focus of our seven-man gang. Minutes earlier, the Brutix pilots had been hoping for an attack, smug in the knowledge of the two logistics ships in their pocket. By now, they must have seen the writing on the wall. Tackled, jammed, neuted, and alone, the battlecruisers succumbed to a deluge of missiles, projectiles, drones, and rounds of hybrid ammo, one after the other.
And there we stood, a small fleet of seven Tusker war vessels, virtually unscathed. A few minutes were spent in combing through the debris for intact ship's systems and scooping drones into cargo holds. We basked a moment or two in the afterglow of the adrenaline pumping through our veins. And then we set a course for our next battle.
But you know what I was thinking? I was thinking how history repeats itself. I had just emerged victorious from a clash of small gangs, in command of a Dominix, the king of drone ships. My arsenal included heavy combat drones, sentry drones, speedy light combat drones, and ECM drones. But just as had happened in my first days as a pirate, throughout this intense battle I had neglected to deploy a single one.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
I have seen the enemy...
...and it is me.
It is possible to make a profit in piracy. I did it--easily--back when I was flying around in the old Jousting Junebug (my Incursus), and even as I branched out into T1 cruisers. Even flying some pricier T2 ships, I've had spells where a string of good kills that dropped good loot salted with some good ransoms kept me in the gravy.
But those days appear to be gone for now. Warping into the holiday season, I look over my recent losses and just shake my head. Two stealth bombers, a recon ship, a heavy assault ship, and an interceptor--my last five losses have all been T2 ships, and not cheaply fit, either. (My Incursus loss doesn't count, as that was lost in the course of a Tusker corporate tournament.)
Taking a few minutes to reflect on my losses, I asked myself, "Jolo" (I call myself by my first name at times like this), "What can you learn from these losses?" I then proceeded to answer myself: "Well, it appears I am incapable of learning. Everyone one of those five ships was lost needlessly, due to noob mistakes. You should have learned better long ago."
The first Nemesis was lost after a good fight wherein the Tuskers held their own. As I surveyed the field after the battle, I noticed an enemy stealth bomber salvaging some of the wrecks. I thought I'd just warp in at range and let loose with a couple of salvos, protecting the wrecks for our team. Unfortunately, his wingman showed up in a Rifter, at far enough range to warp to a wreck near my position and jump all over me. I'd forgotten an early lesson: Don't go for cheap kills when the enemy is capable and on the alert.
Next, I lost my Arazu. Actually, our Tusker fleet had just come out of a small-gang fight pretty poorly, but I'd managed to cloak up and save my ship. Then I saw a stealth bomber out away from the herd..."Jolo" (I can call myself that), "Let's pick him off!" I warped near a wreck in his vicinity, lit him up, and like totally pwned him. But before I could warp away to safety, or even move far enough away to cloak up, an interceptor, well, intercepted me. So I killed the Manticore, but so what? It cost me an Arazu, and I didn't even get any of the loot. Once again, I'd forgotten...er, the same lesson: Don't go for cheap kills when the enemy is capable and on the alert.
I'd been able to pick up an Ishtar for a good price from a corpmate some time ago, and eventually I was able to fit it out and pay the insurance premium. So, a few days ago, I took her out on her maiden cruise. As I approached my third jump gate, I saw a Curse in the vicinity...and just as I jumped, the Curse landed on the same gate. Then, upon reaching the other side of the gate, I found a Rapier waiting for me. At first, I did the right thing--I sat there under the protection of jump cloak and thought about my options. I decided to go back for the gate rather than trying to get out before the Rapier could lock me.
It didn't look good; the Rapier webbed me, as I thought he would, and the Curse jumped on in to join the party. I didn't think I would make it to the gate in time, though if I did, both ships had aggressed me and would be unable to follow me through. In a moment of panic, I made my mistake: I launched my sentry drones, hoping to take one of my attackers down with me, or maybe even drive one off. Almost immediately, I reassessed things and realized I could make the gate in time--the Curse was hurting me with his energy neutralizers, but I had dual cap boosters and was managing my reppers fine. So without having ordered the drones to engage the enemy,I gave the command for the drones to return to the bay and kept straining for the gate. (I didn't really expect the sentry drones to keep up, but with all the stasis webifying going on it was worth a try.)
And--I did make it back to the gate in time! Sadly, however, the gatekeepers judged I had recently been performing acts of aggression and denied me passage. I lasted but a little longer, but soon died. Although I had carefully not returned fire on my foes, for the short time my sentry drones were deployed, they had followed their programming and opened fire on a ship attacking me. I had broken the rule: Do not deploy drones when you don't want to aggress. And it was a costly lesson not to learn.
I lost my next stealth bomber after a glorious battle in which the Tuskers lost a Maller and a Myrmidon but killed a Caracal, a Myrmidon, and a Harbinger. As the other team's cavalry arrived, I took a few parting shots and warped to safety...or so I thought. As soon as I entered warp, I stopped paying attention for a few seconds; and only when it was too late did I realize I was not cloaked and being tackled by a Rifter. I'm still not sure whether I forgot to cloak entirely (unlikely, I think), cloaked but was decloaked by a wreck as I warped off, cloaked but was decloaked upon landing on top of the Rifter (I'd warped to a planet in line with my direction back at the battle), or been followed by the Rifter who decloaked me as he dropped out of warp. At any rate, in most of those scenarios had I been paying attention I could have cloaked and/or warped to a safer position. A real fundamental rule of combat is: Keep paying attention. Check and double-check.
And finally, what is perhaps my most embarrassing loss. Our gang had successfully killed a cruiser, destroyer, and frigate while some bigger targets fled. While sitting at a safe spot, I received intel that one of our targets was approaching a jump gate leading to highsec. I warped to the gate and found my target in a destroyer. I tackled him, and watched in amazement as his destroyer ripped my fragile interceptor apart. It was not until looking over the killmail later (I'm so ashamed to write this) that I realized he'd ripped nothing apart; I'd foolishly warped my interceptor to a set of sentry guns while classified a global criminal. Rookie pirate rule: You can't speed-tank sentry guns.
To recap:
As I skulk through lowsec, looking over my shoulder and salvaging other people's kills, a new dream begins burning in my soul: to master these fundamental lessons and start losing ships by neglecting more advanced rules. If I ever get the ISK to afford a new ship, that is...
It is possible to make a profit in piracy. I did it--easily--back when I was flying around in the old Jousting Junebug (my Incursus), and even as I branched out into T1 cruisers. Even flying some pricier T2 ships, I've had spells where a string of good kills that dropped good loot salted with some good ransoms kept me in the gravy.
But those days appear to be gone for now. Warping into the holiday season, I look over my recent losses and just shake my head. Two stealth bombers, a recon ship, a heavy assault ship, and an interceptor--my last five losses have all been T2 ships, and not cheaply fit, either. (My Incursus loss doesn't count, as that was lost in the course of a Tusker corporate tournament.)
Taking a few minutes to reflect on my losses, I asked myself, "Jolo" (I call myself by my first name at times like this), "What can you learn from these losses?" I then proceeded to answer myself: "Well, it appears I am incapable of learning. Everyone one of those five ships was lost needlessly, due to noob mistakes. You should have learned better long ago."
The first Nemesis was lost after a good fight wherein the Tuskers held their own. As I surveyed the field after the battle, I noticed an enemy stealth bomber salvaging some of the wrecks. I thought I'd just warp in at range and let loose with a couple of salvos, protecting the wrecks for our team. Unfortunately, his wingman showed up in a Rifter, at far enough range to warp to a wreck near my position and jump all over me. I'd forgotten an early lesson: Don't go for cheap kills when the enemy is capable and on the alert.
Next, I lost my Arazu. Actually, our Tusker fleet had just come out of a small-gang fight pretty poorly, but I'd managed to cloak up and save my ship. Then I saw a stealth bomber out away from the herd..."Jolo" (I can call myself that), "Let's pick him off!" I warped near a wreck in his vicinity, lit him up, and like totally pwned him. But before I could warp away to safety, or even move far enough away to cloak up, an interceptor, well, intercepted me. So I killed the Manticore, but so what? It cost me an Arazu, and I didn't even get any of the loot. Once again, I'd forgotten...er, the same lesson: Don't go for cheap kills when the enemy is capable and on the alert.
I'd been able to pick up an Ishtar for a good price from a corpmate some time ago, and eventually I was able to fit it out and pay the insurance premium. So, a few days ago, I took her out on her maiden cruise. As I approached my third jump gate, I saw a Curse in the vicinity...and just as I jumped, the Curse landed on the same gate. Then, upon reaching the other side of the gate, I found a Rapier waiting for me. At first, I did the right thing--I sat there under the protection of jump cloak and thought about my options. I decided to go back for the gate rather than trying to get out before the Rapier could lock me.
It didn't look good; the Rapier webbed me, as I thought he would, and the Curse jumped on in to join the party. I didn't think I would make it to the gate in time, though if I did, both ships had aggressed me and would be unable to follow me through. In a moment of panic, I made my mistake: I launched my sentry drones, hoping to take one of my attackers down with me, or maybe even drive one off. Almost immediately, I reassessed things and realized I could make the gate in time--the Curse was hurting me with his energy neutralizers, but I had dual cap boosters and was managing my reppers fine. So without having ordered the drones to engage the enemy,I gave the command for the drones to return to the bay and kept straining for the gate. (I didn't really expect the sentry drones to keep up, but with all the stasis webifying going on it was worth a try.)
And--I did make it back to the gate in time! Sadly, however, the gatekeepers judged I had recently been performing acts of aggression and denied me passage. I lasted but a little longer, but soon died. Although I had carefully not returned fire on my foes, for the short time my sentry drones were deployed, they had followed their programming and opened fire on a ship attacking me. I had broken the rule: Do not deploy drones when you don't want to aggress. And it was a costly lesson not to learn.
I lost my next stealth bomber after a glorious battle in which the Tuskers lost a Maller and a Myrmidon but killed a Caracal, a Myrmidon, and a Harbinger. As the other team's cavalry arrived, I took a few parting shots and warped to safety...or so I thought. As soon as I entered warp, I stopped paying attention for a few seconds; and only when it was too late did I realize I was not cloaked and being tackled by a Rifter. I'm still not sure whether I forgot to cloak entirely (unlikely, I think), cloaked but was decloaked by a wreck as I warped off, cloaked but was decloaked upon landing on top of the Rifter (I'd warped to a planet in line with my direction back at the battle), or been followed by the Rifter who decloaked me as he dropped out of warp. At any rate, in most of those scenarios had I been paying attention I could have cloaked and/or warped to a safer position. A real fundamental rule of combat is: Keep paying attention. Check and double-check.
And finally, what is perhaps my most embarrassing loss. Our gang had successfully killed a cruiser, destroyer, and frigate while some bigger targets fled. While sitting at a safe spot, I received intel that one of our targets was approaching a jump gate leading to highsec. I warped to the gate and found my target in a destroyer. I tackled him, and watched in amazement as his destroyer ripped my fragile interceptor apart. It was not until looking over the killmail later (I'm so ashamed to write this) that I realized he'd ripped nothing apart; I'd foolishly warped my interceptor to a set of sentry guns while classified a global criminal. Rookie pirate rule: You can't speed-tank sentry guns.
To recap:
- Don't go for cheap kills when the enemy is capable and on the alert.
- Keep paying attention.
- Do not deploy drones when you don't want to aggress.
- You can't speed-tank sentry guns.
As I skulk through lowsec, looking over my shoulder and salvaging other people's kills, a new dream begins burning in my soul: to master these fundamental lessons and start losing ships by neglecting more advanced rules. If I ever get the ISK to afford a new ship, that is...
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Post the Raven? Nevermore
Sometimes (though not as often as I might like) a good fight never gets posted to the killboards. And so it happened yesterday in two separate Tusker actions against Ravens.
Early in the day, I was roaming in an ad hoc Tusker gang when Suleiman Shouaa spied a Raven and a Loki in Hulmate. They actually fired on him as he undocked from the station! "These guys want to play. I'm going to try to draw them off the station," he reported. (Tuskers generally don't fight at stations or gates, as the sentry guns have a grudge against us and almost always choose to support the other side.)
So Suleiman flew his ship (I think it was an Arbitrator) to a planet while the rest of us--I in an Ishtar, Ronan Jacques in a Rapier, and new Tusker Ian Morrolan in an Ishkur--took position at the Hulmate gate in Onne. I should tell you that at this point all I was thinking was, "We're seriously trying to engage a Raven and a Loki? Dang, I'm going to lose my Ishtar." But of course, I wanted to seem cool and brave in front of my corp mates, so I went along.
For better or for worse, Suleiman managed to get a tackle on the Raven at a planet. The rest of us jumped in and sped to his aid. At first, the fight went well. The Raven's drones were hurting Suleiman, so we killed them; after that, we had no problem staying under the Raven's long-range guns.
And then the Loki showed up on our 360-degree scanners. "Get ready! Here comes the Loki. Primary the Loki when it arrives!" So we all got as ready as could be.
But the Loki didn't come. It disappeared from our scanners.
Turning my attention back to the Raven, I was happy to see his tank would not be a problem for us. With a little effort we had him out of shields. Should we ransom him? "Let's ransom him. Everyone stop shooting," I ordered. "Wait! I see a capsule...he's ejected! Stop shooting!" Suleiman interrupted. But still the Raven's hull was taking damage. Someone was still shooting at a ship we now considered our own. "Stop shooting! Get your drones off!" By the time everyone most assuredly did call in their drones and disengage their turrets, the mighty Caldari battleship has barely 50% structure left...just enough for the air machines to keep up with the leaks.
Now our problem was what a set of pilots specced for Amarr, Gallente, and Minmatar combat vessels should do with a Caldari workhorse. Ronan Jacques had to leave, so the rest of us opened up our black books and got busy. First, we confirmed that no fellow Tuskers we could get ahold of knew how to fly a Raven. Next we turned to the Tusker public channel--a dodgy sort of place populated by hopeful recruits, professional contacts, and intel-gathering opponents. It was with a sigh of relief we learned that Drummond, a pilot who was in the process of applying to our corp, was willing to help and able to sit at the con of a Raven.
So there we were, three pilots in small ships with global criminal timers, orbiting a prize ship at a celestial in the middle of Hulmate. Our savior Drummond was on his way but had about a dozen systems to navigate getting there. We began to look over our shoulder. In our eyes, every frigate was the scout for the Raven pilot's friends, every cruiser was the vanguard of a counter-attack. Nervously now and then one of us would ask Drummond for a status update. We counted our ISK (What bounty might be in the Raven's hold? With what faction modules might she be fitted?) and we counted pilots in local. Drummond was almost here.
The Loki showed up again on 360. A battlecruiser showed up on 360. Both ships stayed on 360. Local spiked. My heart pounded. "Hurry man! They're about to rain destruction and ruin on us all and take the Raven back!" Drummond docked up and left his ship in the hangar. Drummond undocked and warped our way. "Stop shooting the Raven; let's let it build up its shields a little now that Drummond will be flying her," I said. Suleiman was more helpful: "Stop targeting the Raven altogether, otherwise Drummond won't be able to board." Finally the Raven's transponder blipped and now Drummond's name was on the tag.
I warped our gang (now including a Raven) to a safe spot, imagining teeth nipping at my heels. We all did whatever pilots do to relax--had a smoke, sipped some coffee, or got a back rub from an exotic dancer. Still greedy at heart, we queried Drummond on the Raven, learning it was T2 fit but not for PVP, and that only cap boosters and ammo were found in the holds. Still, she was triple-rigged, and none of us announced his intention of turning down the loot split. Our criminal status notched down, the Raven's shields at full, we scouted her home to Hevrice. I began speccing for Caldari battleships (I already had the textbooks and manuals, just had never got around to peeling off the shrinkwrap) with the idea of fitting hull reppers on her later and saving us some ISK; in the meantime Suleiman fit some remote armor repairers and saved us a lot more. So that's why there's (temporarily) a refurbished Raven in my hangar.
The second story, I'm sure you'll be relieved to hear, is shorter. "There's a Raven at one of the belts in Old Man Star. Are any Tuskers nearby?" Issamailkin is an impatient and foolhardy Tusker but he does wrap himself in glory. As it turned out, there were no Tusker pilots nearby, but several of us were near Hevrice and announced our intention of fitting out proper ships with which to address a battleship and head his way. I organized a fleet and headed towards Old Man Star in a Blackbird.
Old Man Star is the Wild West of the Essence region. Mighty Gallente and Caldari fleets clash there often, and when they don't have each other to shoot at, they don't object to shooting at anything else with a warp drive and an airlock. Cocky pilots looking for a reputation prowl the first asteroid field around planet V picking fights. Gangs of pirates and vigilantes organize raids and traps. It is common to find oneself in a three- or four-way fight, with each side trying to figure out who to primary, who to smile at, when to loot, when to cut one's losses, and when to just worry about one's implants.
In the middle of all this was Issamailkin, sitting at the con of a destroyer and shadowing a Caldari battleship. "It looks like he's ratting. He just warped to another belt. How far away are you guys? This belt is out of scan range from everyone else in the system center." This worried me. Issamailkin has a tendency to rush in where angels fear to tread. Worse, the angels seem to like him for it. As a fleet commander, I've used Issamailkin as bait on many an occasion, and find it unnatural how he'll often annihilate an entire gang with his T1 cruiser before his backup can warp to his position from our hiding place. "I'm two jumps out! I'm approaching the Ladistier gate in Aeschee now!" I reported. Another Tusker was just one system behind me. I started muttering to myself..."Issa, be patient. You're in a destroyer and that's a battleship we're talking about. We're almost there. Steady, Issa, steady..." But to no avail.
"I'm going in for a point. Hurry up guys." I hadn't even landed in Ladistier yet.
On our way!" I confirmed, as I landed and immediately gave the command to warp to the Old Man Star gate.
"Point!" That's right, Issamailkin had tackled a battleship with his destroyer. "Oh, good, he's not hitting me at all. I'm under his guns." Based on past experience, I now feared not for Issa's safety but that the Raven would be dead before I could ninja the killmail. Of course, another part of me, based on a different past experience set, couldn't see how this would be possible. Nevertheless, I tried stalling him: "Maybe you could ransom him. Tell him you have a gang on its way." I was dropping out of warp at the Old Man Star gate.
Issamailkin liked the idea of a ransom. "How much should I ask?" he wondered. I think I suggested 50-75 million ISK, figuring the Raven was insured but maybe the pilot had implants. As I finally began warping to Issamailkin, he reported "He's going to pay. So don't shoot him if you get here in time." (That's right, he said "if" not "when.") My blackbird dropped out of warp 50 km from the action, and as fast as I could I began trying to jam the Raven.
"Is he still targeting you?" I asked. I wanted Issa to know I'd made it on scene and was Providing Combat Support.
"Yeah," was the response. "I just got him to pay me 120 million ISK. Let him go."
!!!
"Roger that" was all I could say as, seconds after engaging the Raven, I warped to a safe spot in space.
"Ka Jolo, do you want any of this ISK?" Issamailkin was being both hopeful and gracious.
"You're darned right I want some ISK. I'm a greedy pirate. But whatever you think is fair; I barely made it there in time to get one jam cycle in." It turns out Issamailkin is generous and gracious.
May there be many more days like yesterday, where I post not a single Raven killmail!
Early in the day, I was roaming in an ad hoc Tusker gang when Suleiman Shouaa spied a Raven and a Loki in Hulmate. They actually fired on him as he undocked from the station! "These guys want to play. I'm going to try to draw them off the station," he reported. (Tuskers generally don't fight at stations or gates, as the sentry guns have a grudge against us and almost always choose to support the other side.)
So Suleiman flew his ship (I think it was an Arbitrator) to a planet while the rest of us--I in an Ishtar, Ronan Jacques in a Rapier, and new Tusker Ian Morrolan in an Ishkur--took position at the Hulmate gate in Onne. I should tell you that at this point all I was thinking was, "We're seriously trying to engage a Raven and a Loki? Dang, I'm going to lose my Ishtar." But of course, I wanted to seem cool and brave in front of my corp mates, so I went along.
For better or for worse, Suleiman managed to get a tackle on the Raven at a planet. The rest of us jumped in and sped to his aid. At first, the fight went well. The Raven's drones were hurting Suleiman, so we killed them; after that, we had no problem staying under the Raven's long-range guns.
And then the Loki showed up on our 360-degree scanners. "Get ready! Here comes the Loki. Primary the Loki when it arrives!" So we all got as ready as could be.
But the Loki didn't come. It disappeared from our scanners.
Turning my attention back to the Raven, I was happy to see his tank would not be a problem for us. With a little effort we had him out of shields. Should we ransom him? "Let's ransom him. Everyone stop shooting," I ordered. "Wait! I see a capsule...he's ejected! Stop shooting!" Suleiman interrupted. But still the Raven's hull was taking damage. Someone was still shooting at a ship we now considered our own. "Stop shooting! Get your drones off!" By the time everyone most assuredly did call in their drones and disengage their turrets, the mighty Caldari battleship has barely 50% structure left...just enough for the air machines to keep up with the leaks.
Now our problem was what a set of pilots specced for Amarr, Gallente, and Minmatar combat vessels should do with a Caldari workhorse. Ronan Jacques had to leave, so the rest of us opened up our black books and got busy. First, we confirmed that no fellow Tuskers we could get ahold of knew how to fly a Raven. Next we turned to the Tusker public channel--a dodgy sort of place populated by hopeful recruits, professional contacts, and intel-gathering opponents. It was with a sigh of relief we learned that Drummond, a pilot who was in the process of applying to our corp, was willing to help and able to sit at the con of a Raven.
So there we were, three pilots in small ships with global criminal timers, orbiting a prize ship at a celestial in the middle of Hulmate. Our savior Drummond was on his way but had about a dozen systems to navigate getting there. We began to look over our shoulder. In our eyes, every frigate was the scout for the Raven pilot's friends, every cruiser was the vanguard of a counter-attack. Nervously now and then one of us would ask Drummond for a status update. We counted our ISK (What bounty might be in the Raven's hold? With what faction modules might she be fitted?) and we counted pilots in local. Drummond was almost here.
The Loki showed up again on 360. A battlecruiser showed up on 360. Both ships stayed on 360. Local spiked. My heart pounded. "Hurry man! They're about to rain destruction and ruin on us all and take the Raven back!" Drummond docked up and left his ship in the hangar. Drummond undocked and warped our way. "Stop shooting the Raven; let's let it build up its shields a little now that Drummond will be flying her," I said. Suleiman was more helpful: "Stop targeting the Raven altogether, otherwise Drummond won't be able to board." Finally the Raven's transponder blipped and now Drummond's name was on the tag.
I warped our gang (now including a Raven) to a safe spot, imagining teeth nipping at my heels. We all did whatever pilots do to relax--had a smoke, sipped some coffee, or got a back rub from an exotic dancer. Still greedy at heart, we queried Drummond on the Raven, learning it was T2 fit but not for PVP, and that only cap boosters and ammo were found in the holds. Still, she was triple-rigged, and none of us announced his intention of turning down the loot split. Our criminal status notched down, the Raven's shields at full, we scouted her home to Hevrice. I began speccing for Caldari battleships (I already had the textbooks and manuals, just had never got around to peeling off the shrinkwrap) with the idea of fitting hull reppers on her later and saving us some ISK; in the meantime Suleiman fit some remote armor repairers and saved us a lot more. So that's why there's (temporarily) a refurbished Raven in my hangar.
The second story, I'm sure you'll be relieved to hear, is shorter. "There's a Raven at one of the belts in Old Man Star. Are any Tuskers nearby?" Issamailkin is an impatient and foolhardy Tusker but he does wrap himself in glory. As it turned out, there were no Tusker pilots nearby, but several of us were near Hevrice and announced our intention of fitting out proper ships with which to address a battleship and head his way. I organized a fleet and headed towards Old Man Star in a Blackbird.
Old Man Star is the Wild West of the Essence region. Mighty Gallente and Caldari fleets clash there often, and when they don't have each other to shoot at, they don't object to shooting at anything else with a warp drive and an airlock. Cocky pilots looking for a reputation prowl the first asteroid field around planet V picking fights. Gangs of pirates and vigilantes organize raids and traps. It is common to find oneself in a three- or four-way fight, with each side trying to figure out who to primary, who to smile at, when to loot, when to cut one's losses, and when to just worry about one's implants.
In the middle of all this was Issamailkin, sitting at the con of a destroyer and shadowing a Caldari battleship. "It looks like he's ratting. He just warped to another belt. How far away are you guys? This belt is out of scan range from everyone else in the system center." This worried me. Issamailkin has a tendency to rush in where angels fear to tread. Worse, the angels seem to like him for it. As a fleet commander, I've used Issamailkin as bait on many an occasion, and find it unnatural how he'll often annihilate an entire gang with his T1 cruiser before his backup can warp to his position from our hiding place. "I'm two jumps out! I'm approaching the Ladistier gate in Aeschee now!" I reported. Another Tusker was just one system behind me. I started muttering to myself..."Issa, be patient. You're in a destroyer and that's a battleship we're talking about. We're almost there. Steady, Issa, steady..." But to no avail.
"I'm going in for a point. Hurry up guys." I hadn't even landed in Ladistier yet.
On our way!" I confirmed, as I landed and immediately gave the command to warp to the Old Man Star gate.
"Point!" That's right, Issamailkin had tackled a battleship with his destroyer. "Oh, good, he's not hitting me at all. I'm under his guns." Based on past experience, I now feared not for Issa's safety but that the Raven would be dead before I could ninja the killmail. Of course, another part of me, based on a different past experience set, couldn't see how this would be possible. Nevertheless, I tried stalling him: "Maybe you could ransom him. Tell him you have a gang on its way." I was dropping out of warp at the Old Man Star gate.
Issamailkin liked the idea of a ransom. "How much should I ask?" he wondered. I think I suggested 50-75 million ISK, figuring the Raven was insured but maybe the pilot had implants. As I finally began warping to Issamailkin, he reported "He's going to pay. So don't shoot him if you get here in time." (That's right, he said "if" not "when.") My blackbird dropped out of warp 50 km from the action, and as fast as I could I began trying to jam the Raven.
"Is he still targeting you?" I asked. I wanted Issa to know I'd made it on scene and was Providing Combat Support.
"Yeah," was the response. "I just got him to pay me 120 million ISK. Let him go."
!!!
"Roger that" was all I could say as, seconds after engaging the Raven, I warped to a safe spot in space.
"Ka Jolo, do you want any of this ISK?" Issamailkin was being both hopeful and gracious.
"You're darned right I want some ISK. I'm a greedy pirate. But whatever you think is fair; I barely made it there in time to get one jam cycle in." It turns out Issamailkin is generous and gracious.
May there be many more days like yesterday, where I post not a single Raven killmail!
Friday, November 20, 2009
A trip down memory lane
In your face, Wensley! That's right, another solo Rifter kill in my Incursus. Jolo's still got it!
Some of us Tuskers in T1 frigates and destroyers were chasing a former Tusker around Hevrice in his Rifter while keeping an eye on a menacing Thrasher also in system. We weren't having much luck, and in fact we never managed to engage either target. But as I warped to a random factional warfare outpost, apparently this Rifter pilot was warping to the same destination.
I landed a second or two before him, and had little trouble getting him locked down. At point-blank range I unleashed whatever fury my Incursus could muster, waiting to see what would develop. "Warp to Jolo! Warp to Jolo!" I let my gang in on what was going down, not wanting to deprive them of some excitement in their dull lives.
What developed was the Thrasher showed up on my overview, blinking an angry red. My damage display was also getting redder by the second. Certain I would be dead in moments, I calmly selected a destination to warp my capsule to. Hmm. The damage against my Incursus' armor was slowing, while the Rifter was literally falling apart before my eyes. "Primary the Thrasher!" I broadcast, with ever-growing hope I would be able to kill the Rifter before being killed in turn.
The Rifter finally went dead in space, leaving me with 30% of my armor left. I didn't stick around to recall my drone or scoop loot; there was still a chance I could save my ship if I bugged out fast--and lo and behold, I did. Ah, what a great feeling: a solo Rifter kill, and I saved my Incursus from the evil clutches of the Minmatar destroyer.
My smugness was dampened somewhat as it turns out the destroyer had been sitting 100km away the whole time, a detail I hadn't registered in the fog of battle. Seeing my backup arrive, he simply warped to safety. My mates arrived too late to ninja the Rifter kill, but they managed to tackle the pilot's capsule. Sheepish at having fled from an imaginary threat, I returned to the scene, scooped my Hobgoblin, and struck up a conversation with the Rifter pilot. He had some implants in his clone, so we let him go free in return for a modest consideration.
I love it that a simple T1 frigate fight still does it for me.
I mean, don't get me wrong: three-sided fights like the rolling skirmishes yesterday in Adirain and Aeschee--involving battleships, HAC's, logistics ships, and recons--really get one's adrenaline pumping. I hope for more and more good fights like that. But I'm glad my joie de vivre can come from a simple T1 frigate fight just as easily.
Some of us Tuskers in T1 frigates and destroyers were chasing a former Tusker around Hevrice in his Rifter while keeping an eye on a menacing Thrasher also in system. We weren't having much luck, and in fact we never managed to engage either target. But as I warped to a random factional warfare outpost, apparently this Rifter pilot was warping to the same destination.
I landed a second or two before him, and had little trouble getting him locked down. At point-blank range I unleashed whatever fury my Incursus could muster, waiting to see what would develop. "Warp to Jolo! Warp to Jolo!" I let my gang in on what was going down, not wanting to deprive them of some excitement in their dull lives.
What developed was the Thrasher showed up on my overview, blinking an angry red. My damage display was also getting redder by the second. Certain I would be dead in moments, I calmly selected a destination to warp my capsule to. Hmm. The damage against my Incursus' armor was slowing, while the Rifter was literally falling apart before my eyes. "Primary the Thrasher!" I broadcast, with ever-growing hope I would be able to kill the Rifter before being killed in turn.
The Rifter finally went dead in space, leaving me with 30% of my armor left. I didn't stick around to recall my drone or scoop loot; there was still a chance I could save my ship if I bugged out fast--and lo and behold, I did. Ah, what a great feeling: a solo Rifter kill, and I saved my Incursus from the evil clutches of the Minmatar destroyer.
My smugness was dampened somewhat as it turns out the destroyer had been sitting 100km away the whole time, a detail I hadn't registered in the fog of battle. Seeing my backup arrive, he simply warped to safety. My mates arrived too late to ninja the Rifter kill, but they managed to tackle the pilot's capsule. Sheepish at having fled from an imaginary threat, I returned to the scene, scooped my Hobgoblin, and struck up a conversation with the Rifter pilot. He had some implants in his clone, so we let him go free in return for a modest consideration.
I love it that a simple T1 frigate fight still does it for me.
I mean, don't get me wrong: three-sided fights like the rolling skirmishes yesterday in Adirain and Aeschee--involving battleships, HAC's, logistics ships, and recons--really get one's adrenaline pumping. I hope for more and more good fights like that. But I'm glad my joie de vivre can come from a simple T1 frigate fight just as easily.
Sunday, November 8, 2009
The Silent Service
[Thank you, all my loyal readers who have sent me encouraging notes and donations of various sorts. Be assured I have not abandoned this blog!]
Unbeknown to many a hapless pilot in New Eden, there is a whole world of intrigue lurking in space, undetected by your ship's scanners. I'm speaking of the world of cloaked ships.
Just about any spaceship is able to equip a cloaking device. My "friend" uses a cloaking device on his Bestower, hoping thereby to escape gate camps when hauling a load through pirate-infested lowsec. In fact, many a hauler faced on jumping through a gate with a gang of pirates in heavily-tanked combat vessels has mastered this art: (1) Align toward the destination stargate or space station; (2) Immediately engage the microwarpdrive or afterburner; (3) Immediately engage the cloaking device. For a few precious moments, your ship is invulnerable to being locked by the enemy, even as you slowly gain speed approaching that needed to warp. But at any moment your cloaking device will shut off the microwarpdrive; as soon as that happens, (4) Disengage the cloaking device and issue the command to warp. Aligned and at speed, with any luck at all your hauler will be able to warp away before the pirates can lock and tackle.
But I digress. We can disregard any number of haulers in the universe cloaking for a few seconds to get away from gate camps. Similarly, we can set aside the smart miners and ratters that, at the first sign of a stranger in the solar system, warp to a safe spot and cloak for the duration.
You see, many a space pilot has died because he did not realize the apparently empty solar system he was traversing held invisible stalkers. Right now, as you read this, a scout for some pirate corporation could be approaching your ship, transmitting your location to his gang so they can warp in on top of you. Nowhere is safe--not a deadspace complex, not a "safe spot," not even a deep safe spot. There are many ways clever pilots use cloaking devices to their advantage (e.g. Stealth Bombers or Black Ops battleships), but I want to talk about just two of them. Both types will be using a special "covert ops" cloaking device, which cloaks their ship not only under impulse power but also during warp.
First is the Force Recon pilot. This pilot and his high-tech cruiser is able to hunt you down just as any other cruiser pilot might--only you don't see him coming. By the time a Force Recon ship shows up on your overview, chances are he's in range and has already issued the order to lock you as a target. You might see a Rupture at a nearby planet as he tries to resolve the exact asteroid belt you're mining, giving you time to call in your drones and warp to safety--but you'll probably not see a Pilgrim until he's within his weapons system's optimal range, ready to unleash a firestorm of destruction on you from his deadly drones. You may view your odds against that battlecruiser as favorable--only to pound your console in helpless desperation as a Falcon appears on your overview and jams you blind. You may count on your speed tank to dance around your adversaries--but not when a Rapier reaches out and touches you. You may count on your range to keep you safe from your foes--until an Arazu suddenly appears, tackling you from across the battlefield.
Force Recon ships are the ace up the sleeve of many a small gang. In many parts of New Eden, "Because of Falcon" is a colloquial expression meaning something like, "We had every advantage, in numbers, in firepower, and in support--but then it all crashed down upon us." Fortunately, in spite of their unique advantages and their shared ability to use covert ops cloaking devices, Force Recon ships are not particularly hardy vessels. A prepared pilot or small gang does have a shot at killing a Force Recon vessel when it appears--and losing a Force Recon ship hits hard in the wallet. Furthermore, covert ops cloaking devices have the weakness that they interfere with targeting systems. For a few seconds after they disengage their cloak (the more skilled the pilot, the shorter the delay), they are unable to target anything smaller than a Class 5 star. Use those precious seconds wisely, whether to make your escape or neutralize the new threat.
The second sort of invisible foe I want to discuss is the Covert Ops pilot. His Covert Ops frigate is, frankly, weak and puny. All it really has going for it is its speed, agility, and invisibility. Unfortunately, that's often all it needs. You may think your hauler is slipping through a system unnoticed, but a Covert Ops pilot may already be shadowing you. You may think your trap is well-laid, not realizing a Covert Ops pilot is scant kilometers away from your backup in the next system, reporting to your supposed prey the composition of your fleet and the identity of your pilots. You may think life is "business as usual," never suspecting that a Covert Ops ship is sitting 50km from your home station, recording names of your corporation's pilots, what sorts of ships they command, and what time of day they typically sortie--information of great interest to that corporation that just declared war on yours. The "eyes" of a well-organized combat gang are often a team of Covert Ops pilots.
Did I say all a Covert Ops frigate has going for it is speed, agility, and invisibility? I should have added "and the ability to find you anywhere in space." For Covert Ops ships are purpose-made to sport scan probe launchers that can pinpoint your exact location, whether you're in mid-warp, at a safe spot, exploring a deadspace complex, or regrouping 1,000 km. off a stargate. Many ship classes are capable of fitting scan probe launchers, of course, but at such a cost that they become good for little else (though watch out for certain Force Recon pilots); Covert Ops ships, with little purpose in the first place other than to observe and report, fill that role even more excellently when among the information they can report is the location of your safe spot.
What frequently happens is a Covert Ops pilot picks up your ship on his on-board scanner, and quickly realizes you are not at any known celestial body. He determines your range by limiting his scanner to various limits until he knows at which setting you can be detected and at what range you cannot be detected. He notes the general direction you are in in relation to his location or the location of known objects. Next, he launches a flight of combat scan probes (perhaps warping someplace out of range of your own scanner, so you won't see him as the launch of his probes briefly decloaks his ship). Within just a minute or two, any competent scanner will have the ability to warp directly to your location.
Now, if that was all there was to the matter, this would not be such a big deal; in fact, most pirates would welcome the sudden appearance of a Covert Ops vessel within range of their weapons. The problem is that there is all too often a gang that goes along with the Covert Ops pilot, and when they show up close enough to read your ship's ID number with the naked eye, why, they're generally prepared to lock you, tackle you, and have their way with you--were it not so, they would not choose to warp to you in the first place.
I hope this tale has given you something to think about. The next time you lay a trap, but nobody takes the bait...the next time your hauler, full of valuable cargo, just happens to be the one that gets ganked while a moment before your scout reported the gate was clear and the two other haulers you jumped through with escape unmolested...the next time you're tempted to warp to a "safe" spot and set your ship on autopilot while you grab a bite to eat--well, take another look at local and think invisible.
Unbeknown to many a hapless pilot in New Eden, there is a whole world of intrigue lurking in space, undetected by your ship's scanners. I'm speaking of the world of cloaked ships.
Just about any spaceship is able to equip a cloaking device. My "friend" uses a cloaking device on his Bestower, hoping thereby to escape gate camps when hauling a load through pirate-infested lowsec. In fact, many a hauler faced on jumping through a gate with a gang of pirates in heavily-tanked combat vessels has mastered this art: (1) Align toward the destination stargate or space station; (2) Immediately engage the microwarpdrive or afterburner; (3) Immediately engage the cloaking device. For a few precious moments, your ship is invulnerable to being locked by the enemy, even as you slowly gain speed approaching that needed to warp. But at any moment your cloaking device will shut off the microwarpdrive; as soon as that happens, (4) Disengage the cloaking device and issue the command to warp. Aligned and at speed, with any luck at all your hauler will be able to warp away before the pirates can lock and tackle.
But I digress. We can disregard any number of haulers in the universe cloaking for a few seconds to get away from gate camps. Similarly, we can set aside the smart miners and ratters that, at the first sign of a stranger in the solar system, warp to a safe spot and cloak for the duration.
You see, many a space pilot has died because he did not realize the apparently empty solar system he was traversing held invisible stalkers. Right now, as you read this, a scout for some pirate corporation could be approaching your ship, transmitting your location to his gang so they can warp in on top of you. Nowhere is safe--not a deadspace complex, not a "safe spot," not even a deep safe spot. There are many ways clever pilots use cloaking devices to their advantage (e.g. Stealth Bombers or Black Ops battleships), but I want to talk about just two of them. Both types will be using a special "covert ops" cloaking device, which cloaks their ship not only under impulse power but also during warp.
First is the Force Recon pilot. This pilot and his high-tech cruiser is able to hunt you down just as any other cruiser pilot might--only you don't see him coming. By the time a Force Recon ship shows up on your overview, chances are he's in range and has already issued the order to lock you as a target. You might see a Rupture at a nearby planet as he tries to resolve the exact asteroid belt you're mining, giving you time to call in your drones and warp to safety--but you'll probably not see a Pilgrim until he's within his weapons system's optimal range, ready to unleash a firestorm of destruction on you from his deadly drones. You may view your odds against that battlecruiser as favorable--only to pound your console in helpless desperation as a Falcon appears on your overview and jams you blind. You may count on your speed tank to dance around your adversaries--but not when a Rapier reaches out and touches you. You may count on your range to keep you safe from your foes--until an Arazu suddenly appears, tackling you from across the battlefield.
Force Recon ships are the ace up the sleeve of many a small gang. In many parts of New Eden, "Because of Falcon" is a colloquial expression meaning something like, "We had every advantage, in numbers, in firepower, and in support--but then it all crashed down upon us." Fortunately, in spite of their unique advantages and their shared ability to use covert ops cloaking devices, Force Recon ships are not particularly hardy vessels. A prepared pilot or small gang does have a shot at killing a Force Recon vessel when it appears--and losing a Force Recon ship hits hard in the wallet. Furthermore, covert ops cloaking devices have the weakness that they interfere with targeting systems. For a few seconds after they disengage their cloak (the more skilled the pilot, the shorter the delay), they are unable to target anything smaller than a Class 5 star. Use those precious seconds wisely, whether to make your escape or neutralize the new threat.
The second sort of invisible foe I want to discuss is the Covert Ops pilot. His Covert Ops frigate is, frankly, weak and puny. All it really has going for it is its speed, agility, and invisibility. Unfortunately, that's often all it needs. You may think your hauler is slipping through a system unnoticed, but a Covert Ops pilot may already be shadowing you. You may think your trap is well-laid, not realizing a Covert Ops pilot is scant kilometers away from your backup in the next system, reporting to your supposed prey the composition of your fleet and the identity of your pilots. You may think life is "business as usual," never suspecting that a Covert Ops ship is sitting 50km from your home station, recording names of your corporation's pilots, what sorts of ships they command, and what time of day they typically sortie--information of great interest to that corporation that just declared war on yours. The "eyes" of a well-organized combat gang are often a team of Covert Ops pilots.
Did I say all a Covert Ops frigate has going for it is speed, agility, and invisibility? I should have added "and the ability to find you anywhere in space." For Covert Ops ships are purpose-made to sport scan probe launchers that can pinpoint your exact location, whether you're in mid-warp, at a safe spot, exploring a deadspace complex, or regrouping 1,000 km. off a stargate. Many ship classes are capable of fitting scan probe launchers, of course, but at such a cost that they become good for little else (though watch out for certain Force Recon pilots); Covert Ops ships, with little purpose in the first place other than to observe and report, fill that role even more excellently when among the information they can report is the location of your safe spot.
What frequently happens is a Covert Ops pilot picks up your ship on his on-board scanner, and quickly realizes you are not at any known celestial body. He determines your range by limiting his scanner to various limits until he knows at which setting you can be detected and at what range you cannot be detected. He notes the general direction you are in in relation to his location or the location of known objects. Next, he launches a flight of combat scan probes (perhaps warping someplace out of range of your own scanner, so you won't see him as the launch of his probes briefly decloaks his ship). Within just a minute or two, any competent scanner will have the ability to warp directly to your location.
Now, if that was all there was to the matter, this would not be such a big deal; in fact, most pirates would welcome the sudden appearance of a Covert Ops vessel within range of their weapons. The problem is that there is all too often a gang that goes along with the Covert Ops pilot, and when they show up close enough to read your ship's ID number with the naked eye, why, they're generally prepared to lock you, tackle you, and have their way with you--were it not so, they would not choose to warp to you in the first place.
I hope this tale has given you something to think about. The next time you lay a trap, but nobody takes the bait...the next time your hauler, full of valuable cargo, just happens to be the one that gets ganked while a moment before your scout reported the gate was clear and the two other haulers you jumped through with escape unmolested...the next time you're tempted to warp to a "safe" spot and set your ship on autopilot while you grab a bite to eat--well, take another look at local and think invisible.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Location, location, location!
In the cat-and-mouse game that is lowsec piracy, location is everything. Here's what that means, from a pirate's perspective:
Jump gates. Several elements are significant when fighting at jump gates. First, the presence of sentry guns, even at lowsec jump gates, determines the circumstances under which one might engage. We outlaws are at a disadvantage at jump gates, as anyone may freely fire at us with no penalty, while we ourselves will incur sentry gun fire if we initiate hostilities against a pilot who is not an outlaw. Gate-campers typically trust in their defenses to shield them from the combined power of their target and the sentry guns, but pirates in frigates are generally out of the fight.
All of my mates are outlaws; if one of us is attacked at a jump gate, the rest of us must let him sink or swim on his own. Even a fellow corp member in our gang who is in distress may not benefit from our back-up; were we to engage a ship that has attacked him, we are guilty of "assisting an outlaw" and the sentry guns open fire. This is why a law-abiding pilot at a jump gate may find himself utterly ignored by a menacing fleet of outlaws in light ships.
The second element to consider when fighting at a jump gate is the "cool down" period enforced by jump gate operators. Simply stated, no ship is cleared to jump through unless he has avoided all combat activity for at least 60 seconds. For the gate-camper, this may mean that one must be able to destroy the target before the target reaches jump range of the gate; otherwise, the target may simply approach the gate and jump through, while the attacker must cool down for 60 seconds, allowing the prey ample time to escape. For this reason savvy pirates will have a tackler on the other side of the gate. These mechanics encourage fast, agile ships; the attackers need ships that can quickly and lock onto their prey, while the supposed victim needs a ship that can quickly align and enter warp before being tackled.
There are several ways to defeat gate camps in lowsec, particularly the ill-prepared ones. Most effective is a cloaking device: simply give the order to align to your next destination, then immediately activate your cloak; when aligned, deactivate the cloaking device and engage your warp engines. This makes it difficult for the hostile ships to lock their target in time. Another useful technique is to make use of warp core stabilizers; campers can only tackle you, then, if their combined warp disruption capability is more than your warp core strength. Very fast ships may find it easy to simply speed out of tackle range before warping off, while moderately agile ships (especially ones with some significant tank) might opt to make best speed back to the gate and return from whence they came.
In spite of these obstacles to lucrative PVP at jump gates, gate-camping and fights of opportunity at jump gates remain popular. The reason for this is that ships at gates are simply vulnerable. To go from one system to another, most ships have to approach and jump through a jump gate. Canny lowsec survivors that are aware of the pilots in local and move from safe spot to safe spot just can't avoid passing through these choke points if they wish to leave the system. Add to this the extra vulnerability of outlaws, and one can understand why much anti-pirate and pirate-on-pirate action takes place at jump gates.
Stations. Certain pilots seem to specialize in fighting within docking range of space stations. This combat style requires patience and the ability to capitalize on one's opponent's mistakes. Space stations share several elements with jump gates, in that pilots may escape the fight even if tackled, there is a 60-second cool-down period to enter a space station, ships can't leave a station without passing through the undock area, and sentry guns are standing by. On the other hand, when a ship docks up it is truly safe, with no worries of what lies on the other side of a gate. Further, either party in a space station fight may have a stable of ships just inside from which to select when re-emerging from one's hangar, and often repair facilities await inside.
Fights at space stations are sometimes characterized by the term "docking games." Heavily tanked ships are content to take their chances by attacking any ship that undocks, knowing if their target has teeth they can live to fight another day as long as they can tank the return fire and sentry gun damage just long enough to outlast the cool-down timer. As ships engage one another outside a space station, it is common to see one or the other docking and re-docking to repair, change ships, or deny the other a victory.
Pilots adept at this sort of combat are alert for opportunities to maneuver their opponent outside of docking range, especially when a space station has a relatively small docking range. They may ram their target to force it away from the station (a tactic known as "bumping"), or fly well outside of docking range themselves to draw their eager foe away as well. Once the target is well clear of the dock, its impulse engines can be stasified while the attacker shifts his attack into high gear.
Take advantage of the temporary invulnerability a space station affords immediately after undocking; if you find yourself camped, remember that your foes can't touch you until that protection expires, or until you activate any module or change course. You can return to the space station immediately if you desire, but do it quickly before you can be bumped away. The best way to escape such ambushes is to have an "undock safe" already prepared: a point immediately in front of the space station's undock point, and far enough away you may warp to it. Since you leave the space station at speed, and your destination is straight ahead, you'll enter warp almost immediately even if your ship is large and clumsy.
Celestial objects. Certain heavenly bodies, such as stars, planets, moons, and known asteroid belts, are pre-programmed in every ship's navigation computer. Because every pirate out there will be able to warp directly to such objects, and because pilots are on their own in lowsec once they leave the relative safety of jump gates and space stations with their sentry guns, you are at your most vulnerable when you are at a celestial object.
Many foolhardy pilots brave the dangers and go to lowsec asteroid belts, whether to mine ores thought to be more profitable than those available in highsec, or to fight no-name pirates ("rats") that lurk nearby. Pirates are well aware of this, and the first places they scan when hunting are asteroid belts. You are warned. I would go so far as to say that if you are ratting or mining at a belt, you should just assume that any other pilot who shows up in local frequencies is probably on his way to attack you at that very moment. If your attention wanders for just a moment at just the wrong time, the first sign of danger that may penetrate the fog of your negligent brain is his red-flashing icon on your computer's overview; you have but seconds to warp away--and perhaps not enough seconds to align and engage your warp engines before his sensor-boosted targeting systems have you locked.
Two types of pilots are found at asteroid belts, really. First are pilots so inexperienced they have no idea what danger they are in; second are pilots looking for--and ready for--a fight. Pirates hope you're the former, but are typically prepared for you to be the latter. Simply by checking your employment history I have a pretty good idea which category you're in, and if you're inexperienced enough I have no problem trying to kill your ship outright no matter what you're flying, or at the very least holding you down while backup arrives. If, on the other hand, I think you're looking for a fight, I have to evaluate our relative ship capabilities and backup potential. Are you bait? If I know you're bait, and engage anyway, will you know that I know you're bait? If so, will you run away, figuring I must also be just the tip of the iceburg that is my fleet, or will you stay, thinking your trap is sufficient to the challenge? Suffice it to say that plenty of combat goes on at asteroid belts, one way or another.
One interesting feature of combat at asteroid belts is--get ready for this--the presence of asteroids. These can be helpful or unhelpful. If your attacker is in an interceptor that is moving fast enough to nullify your weapons, try to get him to run into an asteroid; he'll come to a screeching halt, and for a few precious moments your drones, missiles, and guns can pound away. On the other hand, nothing is more agonizing than trying to warp out, only to find your ship corralled by an asteroid or two.
Pilots with more experience, but without enough time in the local system to have acquired a set of safe spots, will frequently mitigate these dangers by simply never going to an asteroid belt at 0 kilometers. As they maneuver from point to point to scan for targets or threats or to pursue prey or evade pursuit, they may warp to the local sun, planets, or moons. This remains dangerous, as an opponent can pinpoint their location at 5 degrees and often determine at exactly which heavenly body you are located, and warp themselves to that same body. This in turn is often complicated by everyone's ability to warp at any range from 0-100 kilometers. Nevertheless, what with fast interceptors and multiple fleet members warping in at a series of ranges, it is common for fleets to end up engaging one another at celestial bodies.
Deadspace. Many pilots work for agents who assign them missions that take them to deadspace pockets in lowsec systems. There are also previously undiscovered asteroid belts, sites of archeological interest, criminal bases, and other uncharted points of interest. These areas are much safer than celestial objects, as pirates don't have their coordinates in their navigation systems and so often must glare with frustration at a potential target they can pick up on their sensors but cannot approach. Just remember, "safer" doesn't mean "safe."
A significant number of pirates are adept at the use of combat scanner probes; these probes are remotely piloted and, with time, can provide their user with your exact location, a set of coordinates to which they can warp. Frequently, pirates work in teams with one ship fit for probing and at least one other ship ready to press the attack. This is a lucrative specialization, as many "mission runners" or "explorers" depend on the remoteness of their efforts for survival. Such pilots therefore are often fit with expensive specialized modules, and are considered real prizes by the pirates who hunt them.
One interesting feature of certain deadspace pockets (especially those accessed through acceleration gates) is natural phenomena that disrupt microwarp drives. Mission-runners are typically expecting this and are prepared, fitted with afterburners rather than microwarpdrives; but frequently an attacker is focused on fighting in "normal" space and is gimped in deadspace by having a microwarp drive rather than an afterburner. This makes pirates in ships that rely on their speed for their efficacy, such as interceptors and nano-ships, more vulnerable than they would like.
There is no need to panic in the presence of probers. Before they can get an accurate fix on your location, they must get at least four of their probes within a few a.u. of you. Shorten the range on your on-board directional scanner, make sure combat scanner probes (including Sisters combat scanner probes) show up there, and stay alert. Check your scanner every 30-60 seconds; if you do see a probe, start checking even more frequently. If you see more than two probes within about 4 a.u., get out, even if it jeopardizes your mission.
Safe spots. The final category might well be termed, "anyplace else." A safe spot is typically created at a random spot in space. Some are "safer" than others, when factoring in drive-by sightings, range from celestial objects, etc. The only way for a pirate to pinpoint your ship's location (necessary if he is to attack you) is through the use of combat scanner probes, so the same caveats apply as for deadspace pockets (though microwarpdrives work just fine at safe spots).
Some people, I'm sorry to say, feel entirely too safe at safe spots. They warp to a safe spot and then leave the bridge unattended while they spend time with crew or family members, or even take a nap. Meanwhile, they're being probed, and eventually killed--sometimes alerted by onboard alarms reporting they're already targeted, sometimes not alerted at all until they find their escape capsule floating in space.
I've killed ships and looted their wrecks at each of these locations. I'm kinda ashamed to admit it, but I've been killed and plundered at each of these locations as well--in fact, I've lost ships at "safe" spots more than once.
Welcome to lowsec, but remember: one place is not the same as the others.
Jump gates. Several elements are significant when fighting at jump gates. First, the presence of sentry guns, even at lowsec jump gates, determines the circumstances under which one might engage. We outlaws are at a disadvantage at jump gates, as anyone may freely fire at us with no penalty, while we ourselves will incur sentry gun fire if we initiate hostilities against a pilot who is not an outlaw. Gate-campers typically trust in their defenses to shield them from the combined power of their target and the sentry guns, but pirates in frigates are generally out of the fight.
All of my mates are outlaws; if one of us is attacked at a jump gate, the rest of us must let him sink or swim on his own. Even a fellow corp member in our gang who is in distress may not benefit from our back-up; were we to engage a ship that has attacked him, we are guilty of "assisting an outlaw" and the sentry guns open fire. This is why a law-abiding pilot at a jump gate may find himself utterly ignored by a menacing fleet of outlaws in light ships.
The second element to consider when fighting at a jump gate is the "cool down" period enforced by jump gate operators. Simply stated, no ship is cleared to jump through unless he has avoided all combat activity for at least 60 seconds. For the gate-camper, this may mean that one must be able to destroy the target before the target reaches jump range of the gate; otherwise, the target may simply approach the gate and jump through, while the attacker must cool down for 60 seconds, allowing the prey ample time to escape. For this reason savvy pirates will have a tackler on the other side of the gate. These mechanics encourage fast, agile ships; the attackers need ships that can quickly and lock onto their prey, while the supposed victim needs a ship that can quickly align and enter warp before being tackled.
There are several ways to defeat gate camps in lowsec, particularly the ill-prepared ones. Most effective is a cloaking device: simply give the order to align to your next destination, then immediately activate your cloak; when aligned, deactivate the cloaking device and engage your warp engines. This makes it difficult for the hostile ships to lock their target in time. Another useful technique is to make use of warp core stabilizers; campers can only tackle you, then, if their combined warp disruption capability is more than your warp core strength. Very fast ships may find it easy to simply speed out of tackle range before warping off, while moderately agile ships (especially ones with some significant tank) might opt to make best speed back to the gate and return from whence they came.
In spite of these obstacles to lucrative PVP at jump gates, gate-camping and fights of opportunity at jump gates remain popular. The reason for this is that ships at gates are simply vulnerable. To go from one system to another, most ships have to approach and jump through a jump gate. Canny lowsec survivors that are aware of the pilots in local and move from safe spot to safe spot just can't avoid passing through these choke points if they wish to leave the system. Add to this the extra vulnerability of outlaws, and one can understand why much anti-pirate and pirate-on-pirate action takes place at jump gates.
Stations. Certain pilots seem to specialize in fighting within docking range of space stations. This combat style requires patience and the ability to capitalize on one's opponent's mistakes. Space stations share several elements with jump gates, in that pilots may escape the fight even if tackled, there is a 60-second cool-down period to enter a space station, ships can't leave a station without passing through the undock area, and sentry guns are standing by. On the other hand, when a ship docks up it is truly safe, with no worries of what lies on the other side of a gate. Further, either party in a space station fight may have a stable of ships just inside from which to select when re-emerging from one's hangar, and often repair facilities await inside.
Fights at space stations are sometimes characterized by the term "docking games." Heavily tanked ships are content to take their chances by attacking any ship that undocks, knowing if their target has teeth they can live to fight another day as long as they can tank the return fire and sentry gun damage just long enough to outlast the cool-down timer. As ships engage one another outside a space station, it is common to see one or the other docking and re-docking to repair, change ships, or deny the other a victory.
Pilots adept at this sort of combat are alert for opportunities to maneuver their opponent outside of docking range, especially when a space station has a relatively small docking range. They may ram their target to force it away from the station (a tactic known as "bumping"), or fly well outside of docking range themselves to draw their eager foe away as well. Once the target is well clear of the dock, its impulse engines can be stasified while the attacker shifts his attack into high gear.
Take advantage of the temporary invulnerability a space station affords immediately after undocking; if you find yourself camped, remember that your foes can't touch you until that protection expires, or until you activate any module or change course. You can return to the space station immediately if you desire, but do it quickly before you can be bumped away. The best way to escape such ambushes is to have an "undock safe" already prepared: a point immediately in front of the space station's undock point, and far enough away you may warp to it. Since you leave the space station at speed, and your destination is straight ahead, you'll enter warp almost immediately even if your ship is large and clumsy.
Celestial objects. Certain heavenly bodies, such as stars, planets, moons, and known asteroid belts, are pre-programmed in every ship's navigation computer. Because every pirate out there will be able to warp directly to such objects, and because pilots are on their own in lowsec once they leave the relative safety of jump gates and space stations with their sentry guns, you are at your most vulnerable when you are at a celestial object.
Many foolhardy pilots brave the dangers and go to lowsec asteroid belts, whether to mine ores thought to be more profitable than those available in highsec, or to fight no-name pirates ("rats") that lurk nearby. Pirates are well aware of this, and the first places they scan when hunting are asteroid belts. You are warned. I would go so far as to say that if you are ratting or mining at a belt, you should just assume that any other pilot who shows up in local frequencies is probably on his way to attack you at that very moment. If your attention wanders for just a moment at just the wrong time, the first sign of danger that may penetrate the fog of your negligent brain is his red-flashing icon on your computer's overview; you have but seconds to warp away--and perhaps not enough seconds to align and engage your warp engines before his sensor-boosted targeting systems have you locked.
Two types of pilots are found at asteroid belts, really. First are pilots so inexperienced they have no idea what danger they are in; second are pilots looking for--and ready for--a fight. Pirates hope you're the former, but are typically prepared for you to be the latter. Simply by checking your employment history I have a pretty good idea which category you're in, and if you're inexperienced enough I have no problem trying to kill your ship outright no matter what you're flying, or at the very least holding you down while backup arrives. If, on the other hand, I think you're looking for a fight, I have to evaluate our relative ship capabilities and backup potential. Are you bait? If I know you're bait, and engage anyway, will you know that I know you're bait? If so, will you run away, figuring I must also be just the tip of the iceburg that is my fleet, or will you stay, thinking your trap is sufficient to the challenge? Suffice it to say that plenty of combat goes on at asteroid belts, one way or another.
One interesting feature of combat at asteroid belts is--get ready for this--the presence of asteroids. These can be helpful or unhelpful. If your attacker is in an interceptor that is moving fast enough to nullify your weapons, try to get him to run into an asteroid; he'll come to a screeching halt, and for a few precious moments your drones, missiles, and guns can pound away. On the other hand, nothing is more agonizing than trying to warp out, only to find your ship corralled by an asteroid or two.
Pilots with more experience, but without enough time in the local system to have acquired a set of safe spots, will frequently mitigate these dangers by simply never going to an asteroid belt at 0 kilometers. As they maneuver from point to point to scan for targets or threats or to pursue prey or evade pursuit, they may warp to the local sun, planets, or moons. This remains dangerous, as an opponent can pinpoint their location at 5 degrees and often determine at exactly which heavenly body you are located, and warp themselves to that same body. This in turn is often complicated by everyone's ability to warp at any range from 0-100 kilometers. Nevertheless, what with fast interceptors and multiple fleet members warping in at a series of ranges, it is common for fleets to end up engaging one another at celestial bodies.
Deadspace. Many pilots work for agents who assign them missions that take them to deadspace pockets in lowsec systems. There are also previously undiscovered asteroid belts, sites of archeological interest, criminal bases, and other uncharted points of interest. These areas are much safer than celestial objects, as pirates don't have their coordinates in their navigation systems and so often must glare with frustration at a potential target they can pick up on their sensors but cannot approach. Just remember, "safer" doesn't mean "safe."
A significant number of pirates are adept at the use of combat scanner probes; these probes are remotely piloted and, with time, can provide their user with your exact location, a set of coordinates to which they can warp. Frequently, pirates work in teams with one ship fit for probing and at least one other ship ready to press the attack. This is a lucrative specialization, as many "mission runners" or "explorers" depend on the remoteness of their efforts for survival. Such pilots therefore are often fit with expensive specialized modules, and are considered real prizes by the pirates who hunt them.
One interesting feature of certain deadspace pockets (especially those accessed through acceleration gates) is natural phenomena that disrupt microwarp drives. Mission-runners are typically expecting this and are prepared, fitted with afterburners rather than microwarpdrives; but frequently an attacker is focused on fighting in "normal" space and is gimped in deadspace by having a microwarp drive rather than an afterburner. This makes pirates in ships that rely on their speed for their efficacy, such as interceptors and nano-ships, more vulnerable than they would like.
There is no need to panic in the presence of probers. Before they can get an accurate fix on your location, they must get at least four of their probes within a few a.u. of you. Shorten the range on your on-board directional scanner, make sure combat scanner probes (including Sisters combat scanner probes) show up there, and stay alert. Check your scanner every 30-60 seconds; if you do see a probe, start checking even more frequently. If you see more than two probes within about 4 a.u., get out, even if it jeopardizes your mission.
Safe spots. The final category might well be termed, "anyplace else." A safe spot is typically created at a random spot in space. Some are "safer" than others, when factoring in drive-by sightings, range from celestial objects, etc. The only way for a pirate to pinpoint your ship's location (necessary if he is to attack you) is through the use of combat scanner probes, so the same caveats apply as for deadspace pockets (though microwarpdrives work just fine at safe spots).
Some people, I'm sorry to say, feel entirely too safe at safe spots. They warp to a safe spot and then leave the bridge unattended while they spend time with crew or family members, or even take a nap. Meanwhile, they're being probed, and eventually killed--sometimes alerted by onboard alarms reporting they're already targeted, sometimes not alerted at all until they find their escape capsule floating in space.
I've killed ships and looted their wrecks at each of these locations. I'm kinda ashamed to admit it, but I've been killed and plundered at each of these locations as well--in fact, I've lost ships at "safe" spots more than once.
Welcome to lowsec, but remember: one place is not the same as the others.
Monday, August 3, 2009
Fighting fair
Oft do I hear the lament, "Nobody fights fair anymore." Well of course not!
People seem to have the idea that "a fair fight" consists of two equally-matched opponents risking it all in a thrilling space battle. But if one were to stop and consider for a few moments what "equally-matched" could possibly mean, it becomes clear that there is no such thing as a fair fight. Consider this short list of factors that contribute to one's ability to win a fight:
On the other hand...
I do actually believe that the combat we engage in is fair. Let's back things up a little.
The basis for fairness in New Eden is free will (I get to choose how to prepare myself and my vessel), full disclosure (I have access to information that helps me assess risks), and actual rules (everyone knows that anyone may attack anyone in any system of any security status).
No fair fights in New Eden, you say? "All is fair in love and war," says I.
People seem to have the idea that "a fair fight" consists of two equally-matched opponents risking it all in a thrilling space battle. But if one were to stop and consider for a few moments what "equally-matched" could possibly mean, it becomes clear that there is no such thing as a fair fight. Consider this short list of factors that contribute to one's ability to win a fight:
- Skills (in broad terms, skills affect speed, DPS, EHP, agility, and the modules one may fit; in more narrow terms, skills affect speed, the damage capability of the turrets one may fit, the range of those turrets, the rate of fire of those turrets, the tracking of those turrets, the damage capability of one's drones, the number of drones, the range of the drones, the speed of the drones, the hp of the drones; they affect the actual HP of one's ship, the resists to various damage types one has, one's scan resolution, one's manuverability; they affect the size of one's turrets and the tech levels of one's modules). In other words, fighting completely fair has to start at the beginning of a pod pilot's training.
- Ship and modules. Two equally-skilled pilots may make different choices as to ship (e.g. Incursus or Tristan) or modules (e.g. web or tracking disruptor). Even ships with roughly the same fitting could actually have modules with different meta levels. Further, two ships fit identically could still load different ammo. So fighting fair has to take into account one's fitting bay.
- Numbers. More is better. This is easily controlled, unless you don't find it easy deciding which members of your gang don't get to get in on the killmail.
- Pilot experience. At what range to fight? Traveling at what speed? Which modules to activate, and when? Which ammo type to load? Which drones to deploy? Shoot the ship, or take out her drones first? Fly into that asteroid field, or steer clear? Should I use up my own cap to suck up theirs? Good answers to these questions come from native intelligence and experience, and an intimate knowledge of the other pilot's ship, modules, experience, and personality doesn't hurt, either.
On the other hand...
I do actually believe that the combat we engage in is fair. Let's back things up a little.
- As a pilot, I am free to choose which skills to train, which ships to spend my money on, and how to fit that ship. Sure, I can't have it all, but the information is available to me to help me understand the trade-offs. No other pilot in the game makes these decisions for me.
- As a pilot, I am free to roam lawless space's asteroid belts, or stay huddled in my hangar. I get to decide whether to undock, and where to go and what to do if I so choose. The information is available to me to assess the risk of any activity: system security levels, recent kills, pilots in space--all are publically available information. In the system where I am--in the place where my ship is vulnerable--I have further intelligence on every other pilot: their security status, their employment history, and their tenure as a pilot.
- As a human being, I get to choose whether to live a solitary existence, or whether to build relationships with others. Society with others can be a powerful deterrant, and having friends who are willing to risk themselves for my sake can make all the difference in whether I win or lose a battle. If I do have such friends, I get to make the decision whether to fly with or without them.
- Finally, in many instances I get to decide whether or not to engage. The judicious use of coverts ops cloaking devices, warp core stabilizers, safe spots, and speed cover a multitude of combat vulnerabilities once one has made the decision to share space with combat-ready vessels of all types.
The basis for fairness in New Eden is free will (I get to choose how to prepare myself and my vessel), full disclosure (I have access to information that helps me assess risks), and actual rules (everyone knows that anyone may attack anyone in any system of any security status).
No fair fights in New Eden, you say? "All is fair in love and war," says I.
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