The story of my first visit to low-sec, my first encounter with a capsuleer pirate and the lessons I’ve learned.
Risk aversion is the most terrifying mental disorder a capsuleer can have. When your biggest objective in New Eden is to make ISK, risking said ISK becomes a fear you cannot control. A capsuleer will steer away from any low or null-sec systems, effectively gluing himself to the mighty tits of the CONCORD drones, and their unstoppable firepower. Every trip to Jita is limited to at most 50 million ISK of cargo in the hold, to discourage gankers. Every mission is thoroughly researched before undocking, to make sure the right resists are used, so that no harm might come to the overly-tanked battleship, fitted with modules costing around 10 times the price of the ship itself.
Every capsuleer guilty of such behavior has gotten there by different means, due to different reasons.
For me, it was one pirate. One very pleasant pirate.
My first cruiser was a Thorax. I fell in love with that ship as soon as I’ve undocked it for the first time. I’ve admired it’s curves, gleaming in the rays of the pink G3 star. The fit was nothing special, mostly Meta 4 mods, as my skills did not allow me to fit Tech 2 yet, and faction mods were a far away dream.
And yet, even with my lack of skills and experience, we were a formidable team. Angel rats have burned by dozens, their wrecks to be salvaged and looted when the fight was over. I was in love with this ship. I did not fear anything the rats could throw in my direction.
But then one mission has sent me to low-sec.
No knowing what to expect, I’ve accepted said mission. It’s one that I have done a few times before, and I was positive I can do it quickly and get the hell out, skipping the salvaging and looting. Just get the mission done, and get out – easy!
The flight to Ragnarg (0.4) was fairly quiet, and I have not stumbled upon any other capsuleers, though there were a few on Local. I have warped into the mission zone and proceeded to do what I knew best – burning anything and everything on grid. The mission involved dealing with a few waves of mostly frigates. The rats have spawned next to a huge structure, the remains of a station, as it were.
Due to my short optimal range I found myself drifting closer and closer to the superstucture, and soon enough I was right on top of it, the Thorax bumping into it’s walls. I’ve finished clearing the last wave of rats and looked at my overview. At least 20 wrecks on grid. My moneymaker muscle has gone into full gear and I’ve decided it’s worth the risk to stick around for a little while more and loot and salvage all these tasty wrecks.
I’ve gone to work and within minutes the field was almost clear of wrecks. The last one got stuck right on top the the station remains, and not having a tractor beam fitted, I’ve set my Thorax on a collision course to loot the wreck.
The moment my salvager has finished it’s work on the wreck, it happened.
I have not seen that icon before, but the flashing red skull on my overview told me all I needed to know – now is the time to get the fuck out.
My reaction was quite immediate – I’ve hit the first celestial on my overview and smashed the warp button. Tank modules on, drones picked, now I just wait.
The capsuleer pirate has warped in on the mission beacon, about 40km away from me, but he was closing in fast, real fast. Half way to me, I’ve started sweating, why haven’t I warped off yet? That’s when I’ve realized that I’m stuck to that station wreck, effectively blocking me from warping off. I haven’t even managed to digest this new information when the Incursus’ scram and web tied me to the spot I was in – the Thorax’s last resting place.
“I’m not going down without a fight!” I declared to myself valiantly. “Hell, he’s in a frigate and I’m in this bitchin’ cruiser, there’s no way in hell I’m going down at all!”. I’ve launched my drones, Warrior I, and set them upon the wretched frigate. I’ve smashed the webifier activation button. I’ve hit my trigger and my 250mm Meta 4 rails started throwing blobs of antimatter – which absolutely refused to hit the damned tiny ship. The Incursus pilot, meanwhile, has leisurely dispensed of all my drones, and has now started firing his tiny guns at me. Those ate through my shield quite easily, but the incoming damage has slowed down a little once he hit my armor. Repair on, I’ve started feeling a little more secure. My homesystem is only 2 jumps away, I’ll just let my corp mates know, and they’ll come to rescue me. My tank can withhold this.
That’s when I’ve learned what an annoyingly pissy little thing a capacitor is. It ran out. Fast. All in all, it took the Incursus less than a minute to rid me of my most expensive ship at the time.
Following the advice of my friends in corp chat, I was mashing the Warp button even before the Thorax went *pop*, and my pod has safely warped off in the general direction of Hek, and my new life as a sworn carebear.
The Incursus pilot has turned out to be quite a nice guy. On my way home in my pod he opened comms with me and proceeded to explain all that I’ve done wrong since the moment he warped in. He explained about combat probes and how you’re never safe, even in a mission zone. He told me about the main differences between a PvE and a PvP fit. He told me about aligning, and 75% speed and optimal range of rails vs blasters. He even gave me 20 million ISK to cover my losses. I’ve learned a lot from him.
And I’ve decided something very important – I will never PvP again!
It seems that decisions are meant to be overturned.