The Comet that Changed the World

It was like pvping for the first time. Do you remember? Your heart beating so hard it felt like it would jump out of your body and onto the desk in front of you –your hands shaking ever so slightly—and a small laugh of embarrassment that you’re reacting in such a way to an internet spaceship battle.

It was getting late, so I was checking a few last systems for targets before docking up my Condor for the night and going to bed. I was in a good mood after a steady stream of pvp—a common theme for Late Night as of late. Between Amarr groups, neutrals groups, pirates, and the occasional highsec ganking, it’s infrequent there is simply nothing to do.

After d-scanning around Kamela a bit, I headed for my last stop –Sosala. Coms were a bit chaotic –but it was a happy chaos that comes from friends chatting about ship fittings, gang theory, and various methods of ganking larger things in highsec. I was somewhat tuned out.

Local revealed one hostile in local, and a couple blues. I quickly whipped out my D-Scan, thanking whoever in CCP invented the tracking feature, and ran through all the plexes and celestials in range. There was a lone Navy Comet in the small plex – a promising prospect.

I quickly warped to ten of the gate, and activated, hoping it wasn't a blue.

Please don't be blue!

It wasn't blue.

I quickly double clicked in space straight ahead of me as soon as I landed. Thankfully, I came in at about 10K of the Comet, so was outside of scram range. I learned from an engagement with a daredevil earlier in the day that getting my untanked Condor scrammed is not particularly good for its health.

It didn't take long to slap my long point, and fall into a shorter orbit –around 15K. I find that larger obits are sometimes hard to manage— I've lost more than one hostile after accidentally slipping outside the range of my disruptor.

Hmm should I call for backup? I was not particularly familiar with Comets, having never flown one. Was it even reasonable to think I could kill it in my Condor? Or was I about to turned into mincemeat? What the heck, it’s just a Condor, right? Fully fit, I’d only be out around 15 million ISK.

Are Comets long range or short range? Shield or armor? Would my tracking disruptors help me at all? I really need to research more of the Amarr ships –the race I’m most unfamiliar with, ships wise.

I didn't expect the drones.

Three warrior IIs plopped out of his bay and made a beeline for me, quickly doing a significant amount of damage to my shields. And, well, shields are pretty important on a Condor.

I quickly switched to by drone tab, very glad I had made one recently, and locked up the drones. I should eliminate the DPS –that seemed like a good plan. But, would my missiles even hit fast moving warriors?

An NPC spawned and started shooting me –a further nuisance.

I killed his last drone and switched back to the Comet, nipping away at his armor once again.

More drones.

What was this? A Mary Poppins ship? How big WAS that little frigate’s drone bay, anyway?

I had a decision to make. The Comet was clearly dying, but I was already through my shields—and the damage to my armor was a bit uncomfortable. Could I kill him before his drones ate me for lunch? We’d been fighting a long time, and he was badly damaged. There was another hostile in system –was he coming in to support his friend?

I killed the drones –but only two before switching back to the Comet. I overheated my missile bays. It was all or nothing time.

I never even saw him enter hull. As soon as his armor was gone he seemed to insta-explode.
And a pretty explosion it was. As I glanced down at my shaking hands, and nervously laughed as I checked the overview to make sure he was indeed dead,  I realized a few things had died with the Comet. The creeping, constricting tendrils of bitter vet syndrome seemed surprisingly missing –along with the cold, always present pressure of impending boredom--Gone.

All I knew was that I would lose a thousand ships, roam a hundred jumps, and take an insurmountable number of risks to have a fight like that again.

I had to resist the urge to package away my badly damaged ship. I could put it in a container, and label it as the vessel by which I was delivered into the realm of solo pvp. If only I could frame it somehow. Like a business owner’s first dollar, or a physician’s medical degree—a symbol of the beginning of something good.

Naw. I think I’ll get it blown up. 

This Condor’s made for killing.