Day 262 : Guilt Trip to Heydieles

I'm done with industry. We've parted ways. It's been an odd month in Real Life which meant it was perfect for the clicking of many, many things in order to submit Invention jobs. It was a perfect month to be drifting down space lanes while composing playlists on Spotify or listening to EVE Radio. I had a couple of hairy moments when DJ Wiggles played the targetting sound but otherwise it was a nice and dull end to Winter. Winter is going. It's the new thing.

It was dull though. I'm loading up the weapon skills finally and considering my next step. One way or another I'll try my hand at spring time idiocy, I'll be the gamboling lamb of low sec. That reminds me of the old Waylander quote, that might be a nice aim.

Once I was a lamb, playing in a green field. Then the wolves came. Now I am an eagle and I fly in a different universe.’
‘And now you kill the lambs,’ whispered Dardalion.
Waylander chuckled and turned over.
‘No, priest. No one pays for lambs.’

Perhaps I do have an aim after all. It'll take some skilling after all the time I've wasted at the factory day after day but the queue is looking after me.

It's Monday night though, no time to be haring off on wild suicide missions before some elementary basics are covered. I decide to fit out a couple of ships. I like doing this in game. More time to spin my gorgeous gank mobiles. However, Monday and the distraction of a Tuesday which has a blind date in it collude in a way that results in me buying a rig from a low sec station. It's a low sec area I know quite well. I am pretty sure I got blown up there when a couple of months old while being amazed at the bounties of the sitting ducks. I'm sorry Serpentis Admirals, or whatever those fat boys were called.

Anyway. I decide to go get it. I've got a stored safe there that I can scan the station from. I hit undock. Let's go. It is going to be a terrifying and bumpy road.

It isn't.

It's Monday night.

There's not a single flashy in system and no one outside of a station or POS as far as some incredulous Dscanning could determine. I dock up and grab the rig and fit it. Like all my other fits it is a "shit fit" but who cares? I call them loss learners. I could go with conventional wisdom and fit the ships according to internet doctrine or I could fit to my own theory and witness the testing in person. Like Oppenheimer taking a vacation in Hiroshima.

I undock and leap to my safe point. I do some scans. No one. Sod this. Where is all this adrenaline going to go anyway? I need my sleep, I've got to be intelligent and chatty tomorrow. I warp to the nearest plex and scan it. I'm shocked. Someone is actually flying around in this system. There is a Rifter in there!

Before I can consider the situation I've already activated the gate. I've named my ship "Little Friend". I might even have muttered "say hello to my little friend" on the way through the gate. I'm in. Red mist descends. Spiral in. Time to die Mr Rifter Dude. Guns on, orbit achieved. No..... shield..... loss...... I did start to wonder what was happening at this point. The Rifter hadn't even fired back. There isn't much point wondering about stuff halfway through a fight with a frigate that isn't doing anything. There isn't enough of a fight to have a halfway. It's like the only place Zeno's paradox falls over. When you are halfway there you are actually at the end. It's that short.

Anyway. A slightly puzzled Red Mist in place, I torch the poor bastard and grab the loot and do a runner. No point hanging around waiting for people who fight back eh? I warp safe, flick on the 'burner and start flying out blackward while I check the kill. I'm not impressed by what I see. Which is essentially this

http://eve-kill.net/?a=kill_detail&kll_id=16662834


Even worse, the pilot is only hours old.

Even worse, for a Star Wars fan, I just shot down Yoda. He was having a bad Force day. I can deal with this. This is payback for Lucas for Jar Jar Binks. I'm still pissed off about it and praying daily at the small and slightly sinister altar I've set up to JJ.

It's the age of the pilot that gives me the guilt trip. Even gleefully soaring around the nearest belt and wasting the usual dumbass Serpentis battlecruiser doesn't alleviate it. How can I head to low sec in future and feel like this? I'm not doing Show Info on everyone I see. There isn't time. I feel like I've shot one of my own. I feel too bad to even mail the guy to see if he was an AFK alt, which I do suspect on some level. If anyone knows him then let me know and I'll send him a Rifter that actually has some guns on it.

In the end I log off to wrestle with the discovery that my conscience and code might well be disposable. So much for not killing the lambs. I had better invest in some mint sauce instead.


EVE Track of the Day

Lighsabre Cocksucking Blues - Mclusky