Last night didn’t produce any killmails, but it did produce
two great stories through engagements with a group of Gentlemen’s Club
pilots. While the lessons I learned were
fairly mundane, the telling of them merits repeating.
The First: Svipul vs. Phantasm
There are a few experiences in Eve that happen so
infrequently that they fall into the realm of Eve lore. People whisper and talk about them without
ever having experienced them themselves.
And that’s okay. The fact that
they don’t happen all the time makes them mysterious. Things like jumping your Titan instead of
bridging. Of successfully pipebombing
someone. Of pulling off that 100 billion
isk scam.
And I had the pleasure of experiencing one of them yesterday.
I started the night my usual way when I don’t log into a
find an active fleet, by scanning down all the signatures in Tamo and the
surrounding systems. Last night, we had
only one wormhole, a dangerous unknown, but that one had a couple of
connections in it, including one to Immensea.
Putting away my probing ship, I took out one of my two Svipuls and
decided to explore a little.
Now, I tend to fly ships fitted with probe launchers when
traveling through wormholes, just in case someone comes by and closes my
connection home. Svipuls are excellent at this.
The night before, I had a great deal of success playing the tackle role
with this very same ship, and had no problem taking on the targets I came
across.
And this included a Caracal last night running down rats at asteroid belts.
While I didn’t solo him, I was out-pacing his damage/tank state and
could have finished him off while still in armor if my fleet had been delayed.
Granted, the Svipul is a lot more expensive, but the Caracal
was still a cruiser, and I was able to take it down very nicely.
Thus enters the pride.
Here’s a note for all of you out there. A Svipul cannot kill a Phantasm.
I came in hot, intended to get under his guns, but his
damage was too great for even that strategy, so I quickly turned tail and ran
like the wind. He had a point on me but
no scram, so overheated my MWD and burned out for my wormhole. A volley took me down to 50% structure. Another took me down to 30, then 15. Another volley hit me and I saw my structure
dip even further, but I was watching the range between the two of us.
29 km. Then the point
dropped and, just as the next volley was timed to hit, I entered warp. I even saw the firing animation arc out from
the Phantasm to my Svipul. The result?
Never before have I had a fight go that close. Normally, if I get into structure, I’m
dead. I always heard about those tight
fights where you leave with your ship on fire and a single filament keeping it
all together, but I never really experienced it until now. No kill mail, but also no lossmail, either.
And the result was pride.
I made the mistake of believing the experience against a Caracal would
equal the experience against a Phantasm, a pirate cruiser. Silly Talvorian.
The Second: Curse vs. Cynabal and Phantasm
I burned through my connection, docked up and repaired, and
made my way back again. I knew I’d be
facing a Phantasm, so I brought a shield Curse.
When I made my way back and started poking around those systems, I saw a
neut flash into local and checked dscan.
A Cynabal.
Now, having flown Cynabals quite frequently before, I know
how dependent they are on 1) not getting caught, and 2) not getting neuted
out. With the tracking disruptor I had
fit, I knew that, at worst, he’d run away from me. A perfect situation would be landing at
around 15 km, applying my TD and neuts, and killing him slowly. Well, not-so-slowly, since a Cynabal is
nothing without its active resists.
But, then I saw the Phantasm pop up on dscan, and it made me
question myself. That Phantasm could
cause problems with its cap-sipping afterburner. I’d need to keep cap pressure on him
consistent, else he’d have the space to do some serious damage.
Faced together, I didn’t count my odds very high. The Cynabal was the logical first target… he
was more dependent on having cap to fuel his tank and prop mod, without which
he’d be a sitting duck. But the Phantasm
posed the greater threat in the long run, and was likely more resistant to my
neuts.
But, if I could split them up, even for a time, I had a
reasonable chance of killing both of them.
The Phantasm would be a tougher fight, but provided that I engaged the
Cynabal first, I could do it.
I spent the next twenty minutes in a duel of position with
the enemy. At first, I was frightened of
dying. I didn’t want to lose my pretty
Curse. But, about five minutes in, I
realized how much the price of T2 ships dropped, and I figured the chance for
glory was worth the risk.
So, I decided to edge quite a bit closer. I became predictable, warping between two
gates at 100 km – and made sure the targets saw me do it. The Cynabal was faster and more responsive
with the warps, so I thought I could get at least two cycles of neuts on the
Cynabal before the Phantasm landed. And
that would be enough to neutralize the Cynabal; I could leave my small neuts on
him to keep him hobbled while I neuted out the Phantasm with my mediums, all
while pulling some range and applying my TD directly to the slug’s forehead.
But, alas, it wasn’t meant to be. I even offered to fight both of them at the
same time in local, but they must have gotten bored. I wasn’t going to engage both of them at
once, nor did I need to jump through the gate into a waiting trap. And they, it seemed, weren’t interested in
leaving the protection of the gate. It
was the smart play (help would only be a jump away, since the gates and my
system made a triangle. They lost
interest and wandered off.
But it provided me with an interesting lesson about my “take
a risk” threshold, which I calculate at about 200 million. More than that and I start to become a bit
squeamish about being reckless. But
anything under that and, if the glory is great enough (taking down two pirate
cruisers with 1 T2 cruiser, for instance), I’m willing to risk it.
I was too cautious, and not nearly aggressive enough. I’d like to say it was the drumming I got in
my Svipul, but I know myself better than that.
I recognize my limitations and while that can be a very good thing, it
occasionally causes you to be overly cautious.
I missed a great opportunity early on to engage the Cynabal first,
before the Phantasm landed, and I didn’t take it for fear of the risk.
Fear can save, and it can kill. Or, rather, NOT kill. And that’s sometimes just as bad. In my case, it made me miss out on a story
I’d likely repeat for months or years to come.
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