Fit the Forth - the Storm on the Waves

[Fit the Forth, Hurricane]
Energized Adaptive Nano Membrane II
Energized Adaptive Nano Membrane II
Gyrostabilizer II
Gyrostabilizer II
Damage Control II
Medium Armor Repairer II

Experimental 10MN Afterburner I
Tracking Computer II, Optimal Range Script
Tracking Computer II, Optimal Range Script
Medium Ld-Acid Capacitor Battery I

425mm AutoCannon II, EMP M
425mm AutoCannon II, EMP M
425mm AutoCannon II, EMP M
425mm AutoCannon II, EMP M
425mm AutoCannon II, EMP M
425mm AutoCannon II, EMP M
Core Probe Launcher I

Medium Capacitor Control Circuit I
Medium Projectile Burst Aerator I
Medium Projectile Ambit Extension I

~~*****~***~*****~~

"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"

I had scanned many days, I have scan many weeks. Seven days to a week I allow. But still I was never able to lovingly gaze on the isk these trek should be making me.

It was last week in a whole I though vacant I took my Hurricane to pop sleepers for my first time. A C2 relic site was my goal, and I though I might find some loot worth while. I've oft heard talk of "blue-loot" so I drop my MTU and started shooting. 6 then 7 million in CONCORD research was my reward then, the double BS spawn had took me the longest. I jump away to fit salvages but should have expected a back-stabbing.

A Loki and his mate decided to take my spoils and my ship. Though sleeper BS I'd easily dealt with, I barely damaged their shields. And in my pod again I was forced to run. Jumping home with more lost than I'd been able earn even on the loot if I'd had it.

And this brings us to the present day, I sneak through every Wrabbit-Hole I may find. I am scannign down POS's and POCO's and ships, deducing threats as I go. Never quite sure how to address, asking fora job in their pocket of w-space.

Fit the third - O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!... no perhaps not

[Fit the Third, Venture]
Shield Power Relay II

Medium Shield Extender II
Limited 1MN Microwarpdrive I
Survey Scanner II

Gas Cloud Harvester I
Gas Cloud Harvester I
Improved Cloaking Device II

Small Anti-EM Screen Reinforcer I
Small Anti-EM Screen Reinforcer I
Small Anti-Thermal Screen Reinforcer I

~~*****~***~*****~~

Upon my third venture into the place between waking and dream, I scanned and sought out clouds. I has check it quite thoroughly, just me with bell to toll, no one around all was safe and sound. I proceeded to net the green candy floss that floated in whiffs about me. As I filled my Venture's hold I caught sight of sleeper's arriving in my little site. So I simply jumped away.
So back to my station I ran, with unknown bounty in my hold. I though would bring me some solace, a few pretty thing it should buy. I had finally succeeded, even though I'd retreated...

Three week have I waited, and still none have shown interest in buying the stuff. So I now tell you, what you take has small value if you cannot get it to sell.

Fit the Second - Gimbling in the wabe

[Fit the Second, Rupture]
650mm Artillery Cannon II, EMP M
650mm Artillery Cannon II, EMP M
650mm Artillery Cannon II, EMP M
650mm Artillery Cannon II, EMP M
Core Probe Launcher, Sisters Core Scanner Probe

Experimental 10MN Microwarpdrive I
Large Shield Extender II
Adaptive Invulnerability Field I
Medium Neutron Saturation Injector I

Damage Control II
Gyrostabilizer II
Gyrostabilizer II
Shield Power Relay II
Shield Power Relay II

Medium Ancillary Current Router I
Medium Projectile Collision Accelerator I
Medium Projectile Metastasis Adjuster I

~~*****~***~*****~~

`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

On my second trek in to the great unknown of the places behind the looking glass, I found a quiet C2 with an empty POS and several sites. Noone to be seen, not a pilot in sight, so I though to myself it would do. I bookmarked my exit, then proceeded to scan what I could.

A relic site to gimble was my 'splorer's delight, but when I brought in my Ruppie to clear it, sleepers out at 80 km brought tears too my eyes. I had barely the time to flee them. Asleep or awake, I really cannot say, but they are deadly foes. I had to run, which wasn't much fun, but at least I still had my hull.

The moral of this is - never to miss, jump to the range of your guns, give 'em all barrels, avoiding such perils and having to turn and GTFO. Also... know you rats!

Fit the First - Down the first Rabbit-Hole

[Fit the First, Probe] 

Improved Cloaking Device II
Expanded Probe Launcher I, Sisters Core Scanner Probe
[empty high slot]

Limited 1MN Microwarpdrive I 

Data Analyzer I
Relic Analyzer I
Cargo Scanner II

Co-Processor II
Co-Processor II
Small Armor Repairer II

Small Gravity Capacitor Upgrade I 

Small Gravity Capacitor Upgrade I

[empty rig slot]

3x Hobgoblin I, 3x Warrior I

~~*****~***~*****~~

I am a simple Bellman, all praised to the skies-- such a carriage, such ease and such grace! Such solemnity, too! One can see I am wise, the moment one looked in my face! I have but one notion for crossing the oceans, and that is to tingle my bell.

I have little care for, or more accurately I have little knowledge of the good of Mercator's, North Poles, Equators, Tropics, Zones, and Meridian Lines. So I sail with a map I well understand, a complete and absolute blank.

A few weeks ago, four weeks and a day if you must pry, I discovered the art of exploration. 20 million sp seemed quiet enough to me, so I dove into Rabbit-Hole exploitation.

I scanned half the hour, many systems I searched, from hisec C2's  are easily found.  So down in that Rabbit-Hole I slipped, to take a quick look about. I'd not read a guide or wiki or some other source, I simple jump through on a whim,  and found a small paradise, a scanner delight, I  launched probes and sat 20 km the first planet I saw, though bookmark my out I did forget. As I scanned I had forgot to activate my cloak, a rookie mistake I admit. I sat just off the planet not bothering to orbit or fly and before I knew it a Tengu came by with blood in his eyes and I was locked and couldn't jumped away from my position. The frumious Tengu was faster than me and pop went my Probe before drones could engage. Spamming my jump button for the sun, my pod and I jumped safety away. Lost in that starry ocean, no knowing whither to go. I tried to d-scan down my exit... but in only my pod I'd that point was moot I had no idea how to get back now. I suppose I had one option, though I can honestly say since I've rarely had cause to use it, self destruction of my pod just never came to my thoughts, so on the sun I just waited... and back in a clone vat I was.

GF the Tengu did eve-mail, though trite as it was, I must say, I was never a threat after all, but whatever my losses were reasonably small, the venture was not a total loss.

By way of further explanation

First. I am not an expert player in EVE, though I have played EVE since 2006. Perhaps though that in itself is misleading. For I in truth have only around 20 million skill points and a wallet that rarely peaks above 90 million isk. Perhaps I am the oldest and boldest of noobs, or simply a beamish boy unprepared for what whiffles through the tulgey wood.

My PvP experience  laughable at best, (one could argue that all EVE is PvP and so I should qualify such, but to you I say the argument of semantics is trite and all know I refer commonly to PvP combat as such,) and though podded only a handful of times in engagements against others, I have won not once. It is not for lack of skills, my build is primarily combat groomed, but I think it is easy to see killer instinct I have not at all. I lack the will to lock and fire first, and so often find that after the Alpha I am next to lost and tackled. I won't say I do not expect or see it coming. I fly solo, so everyone... no let me rephrase that, EVERYONE else is a target or a threat, mainly the latter.


So lacking the vorpal sword of a fighters spirit, I find myself asking what I am doing in EVE? The game in spite of my current loathing of PvP, (please stop, your inane babble, we know what is meant,) has hooks in me. I love the building and testing of kits, the planning how to skill myself so that I can fly them, they are perhaps not the common or optimal fit, but I like to test them, mayhaps it is why I cry little about a loss that means I must ice mine several hours to replace.

Lately I find thought at the PvE of agent missions bore me. The LP are nice, and some claim I can make more if I pay the skill tax, but I ask why, all are the same, though I may increase the supposed reward the gain in the game is truly small. I have tried to make it more interesting, truly, an L4 in a Wolf is possible, not advised and with good reason... more boring that doing it fast, and hardly worth the resources in ammo.

So I decided to start Wormholing -- only I feel more like Alice with each trip being curiousor and curiousor. But more than Alice, I feel as if I where the Bellman, truly unfit to sail yet the captain none the less. So I Justice Shallow dive into the ocean of stars known as New Eden, to see just how deep the Rabbit Hole goes, and when I find the snark that I hunt if the snark be true... or if I share the Baker's fate and find a Boojum.

Introduction

If-and the thing is wildly possible-the charge of writing nonsense were ever brought against the author of this brief but instructive work, it would be based, I feel convinced, on the authors surreptitious use of the writing of Lewis Caroll, namely the forms and styles of his poems. In view of this painful possibility, I will not (as I might) appeal indignantly to my other writings as a proof that I am incapable of such a deed: I will not (as I might) point to the strong moral purpose of this work itself, to the arithmetical principles so cautiously inculcated in it, or to its noble teachings in Natural History--I will take the more prosaic course of simply explaining how it happened. Reading Mr. Caroll’s works lends itself well to the delve into the Wrabbitholes of space, only so often as not, to silently and suddenly vanish away in the presents of the Boojum, Bandersatch with frumious bites, and red queens’ call for my head, and all manor of other manxome foe therein do we deal with, and I only with my bell to toll must tell the Baker’s tail.

This however could be meet with uffish response of foul or dire disagreement. And so with the cry of “Rilchiam!" I dive into the wrabbithole as their Pistols' cries for my Bezonian blood.