A few nights ago, our merry band was rolling our static with the goal to gain access to riches, things to shoot and a better route out of our home. We tended to get routes into Aridia which is – while scenic – not exactly easy to get supplies in or salvage out. And we were getting a bit desperate. Over the course of 2 weeks, we accumulated ~1.5bn ISK worth of sleeper loot and salvage and were keen to get this to market.
So, we rolled the hole and found a lovely place place with sleepers to shoot but we also saw a hauler, a Brutix and a Legion ghosting in the system. Hm. Probes were also visible, so we assumed that this is either a local team getting ready for some PvE or maybe it is another transient team looking for pew or an exit.
When the probes honed in on our new hole, we assembled a rather impressive (for us) fleet including Falcon (me), assault frigate (to catch small ships) and a Brutix, Proteus and Drake as DPS. But nothing jumped and we decided that more drastic measures need to be taken to attempt a fight.
An old – but apparently very efficient – trick is to pretend to run sites and let the enemy come to you. In wormhole space, we don’t have a local channel so, we have no idea what is around us. This gives the opposing team the advantage to assemble with an unknown force but we felt confident that we could handle that Loki and the Brutix and whoever was in that scanner boat. So, a team of 2 PvP rigged BCs was dispatched to run sites while the rest of us was either cloaked up in the system or staid home as “cavalry”.
All went well, sleepers were dispatched and one of our cloaked team quickly scanned this new C2 for holes – finding a rather alarming number. Nullsec, C2b, a C5 and us – the nullsec and the C5 being the static holes (who wants to live in a place like this?). This made security an issue – we didn’t know where the opposing team had come from and an active C5 is slightly worrying – they operate more like nullsec and tend to bring big fleets. So I park my Falcon on the C5 hole – and not with with our bait.
Confidence remained high, we can handle this. We have 2 Proteus, 3 BCs and a Falcon. The opposing team is expected to have one T3, one BC and something else. All of us are already writing epic stories in our head just how clever our trap netted us some blingy kills…
First sign of trouble comes when a Tengu blips up on D-scan and the site runners report that he is on the grid with them and engaging. Tengu – ok, we can handle that. But where did they come from? Certainly not the C5…
Another Tengu. And a Prophecy. And a Sabre. And Astarte. And a Loki. And a Guardian.
Our BC baiting team is under heavy fire and caught in the Sabre’s bubbles. I know we don’t have anything to take down this crew so, if anything, this just became a rescue mission – can I jam whoever tackles my fleet mates, let them slowboat out of the bubble and warp away? We also wave off our two Proteus pilots and our remaining Brutix – we can’t counter these guys and this is not the time for heroic Banzai charges.
I land cloaked on grid and realize that my overview is not set up for fights with this many boats. I have drones on there – for scouting, its useful to see – and the clutter makes it harder for me to see associate names with target ships. The Sabre motors away from the field, I decloak and jam the Prophecy. So far, so good.
The purple drones on D-scan and overview make me think that I still have fleet mates in need of support but with 2 bubbles on the field, the ships and pods were presumed lost anyway and I try to jam the Guardian – too far away – and hope that our guys can at least make a dent into the opposing team.
I ask in TS who else has scrams on my fleet mates when I realize that I am the last on the field. My colleagues are in their shiny new clones surrounded by scantily-clad voluptuous vixens serving umbrella drinks. At least us Gallente get that treatment. Don’t know about the Amarr. Some ritualized flogging probably. Which they enjoy as much as us the oiled backrub.
Oh well, it was not to be. Someone sends drones (which I dispatch with my smart bombs), someone else warp scrams me (which I ignore while I align toward a celestial) but the Sabre drops a bubble around me, I am webbed, scrammed and basically motionless. My jams still hit but the inevitable happens and my mail icon blinks.
My pod is still aligned and pretty close to the end of the bubble when the first salvo hits and destroys its shield, well into armor. Then the armor goes back up and I assume that their Guardian is repping me for shits & giggles.
That’s cute but I am not in the mood for games and hit “self destruct’ on my pod. Every day, I watch my cats play with caught rodents and somehow this doesn’t gel with me. I prefer Seppuko.
The opposing team kindly spare me the suicide and I find myself in Caldari space somewhere, ready to pick up a new Falcon and eat humble pie. Which the voluptuous vixens serve as well.
The lesson for the day – when setting a trap for a rabbit, make sure there is no bear around.
The butcher’s bill