Hunting the Killmail
I’ve been living in Providence with the corp for a few weeks now, and I’ll go ahead and say that I really, really like the area. I’m finally getting familiar with the region, which, if I recall correctly, is the first area I’ve spent this length of time in. It’s comforting really, to finally know I can invest in a proper range of ships without fearing the possibility of having to pack them up at a moment’s notice.
So naturally, being settled in 0.0 space, the next order on the list has been to get some kills. And to be honest (oh, it pains me to admit this), this kill I’m hunting for will actually be my first. That’s right. In my relatively short career as a pod pilot, I have not received the fabled “killmail”.
The killmail is my Moby Dick, and I am Ahab. Ye damned whale.
I could explain my excuses for why this hasn’t occurred yet—mostly involving being in the wrong places at the wrong times—but I don’t want to get mired in the past. I’m looking forward here and my goal is clear. So now I follow through.
Last night was by far my closest opportunity yet. I was in my Incursus, running to pick up a purchased module a few jumps away, when two corp mates announce that they’re hot on the trail of a Drake passing through the region, and it was on its way to the very system I was in. When it landed, they got the tackle.
At this point I could have said, “Do you guys need help with points?” or “Do I have time to grab a DPS ship?” But my Ahab rage took over, and I wasn’t going to let another moment pass only to arrive at the last second to see the blue fireworks commence without me. I needed to shoot this son of a bitch.
So I throttled my warp in to the gate. Sure enough, the whale was surrounded by my two corp mates. I punched my MWD and had a point on him within seconds. I launched my single drone, and proceeded to contribute what little DPS I could. With one of my mates having to warp out early with hull damage, and the other tanking the missile fire with little effort, it was short time before the Drake turned its turrets on me. Once that happened, I had hardly the time to align before my Incursus popped.
From hell’s heart I stab at thee; for hate’s sake I spit my last breath at thee.
Well, not quite. I didn’t give him the satisfaction of taking my pod, too. Boy, I showed him. /me rolls eyes.
While the battle wounded ran back to our station to grab the big guns, our tank did his best to keep the Drake in place. But, eventually, it was able to make its jump.
For the next half-hour or so came the most fun: the chase. We hopped systems and played pickle with the Drake for quite a while, and it was actually a blast. I would have rather had another chance to strike at my foe (this time with big boy blasters in my Thorax), but when we couldn’t get much help from the locals, it was only a matter of time before we lost the trail.
Regardless, it felt good to take the offense for once. So now, again, I’m on the hunt. I will find my great white killmail, and I will have its head even if it kills me…again, and again.
