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Which moderator's cunt smells the worst?  

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  1. 1. Which moderator's cunt smells the worst?



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I was crushed and demoralized.  My corpmates heard me sobbing on TS...

THE FEELS! Q~Q

 

(puff, puff -- 1.5 hours of writing later -- please correct formatting if you can)

 

NOTE:  Yes, the Great War usually refers to BoB.  This war is more commonly refered to as WWIII, the russian war, the 3rd great war, the war for the south, Scalding Ass, etc.  But it was the great war for me.

 

BETRAYAL

 

After the destruction of Atlas, we rushed to regroup in our core space.  While we were winning, the infighting had been at a minimum...but now that our assets were stranded deep in russian held space, we lost our allies support, fingers started getting pointed.  Our leaders grew increasingly frustrated with our inability to prevent PL from camping on our stations with supercaps, yet dared not risk a full scale battle with our weakened Golden Fleet.

 

We had repeated large scale battles, not without success.  But we lost ground steadily, and our supply and poltitical situation went into a death spiral.  The scavengers smelled blood, and suddenly every power bloc in the entire fucking world (notably the goonswarm) declared war, snapping up and squabbling over our outlying land like vultures.  The russians hired 8 seperate mercenary corps to cut off the pipe to high sec (further exacerbating our supply problems).  I think I started to hate PL and the goons almost as much as the russians.

 

Story for Another Day:  The Enslaving of Fleetworks

 

But the most poisionous thing of all was russian isk.  They began individually contacting influential members, fleet commanders, and officers and offering them amnesty, position, and isk in exchange for standing down.  Hell, they even offered me a bribe.  They were willing to allow anyone willing to surrender safe passage out, no strings attached.  Anyone willing to fight for the russians would be given back the land of their choice, plus extremely large isk payments.  Many looked at ruin and defeat on one side, and russian wealth on the other, and went for the money.

 

Among those was the CEO of my corp, Guru.  He was offered 32 billion to disband our pvp wing and persuade the rest of us to join the russian alliance.  He took it, without consulting AAA leadership or us, and opened another hole right in the AAA backline.  When our old frenemies GC heard of this sale, they were enraged and immediately attacked us, AAA alliancemates or not.  They began hunting and killing anyone they could get their hands on, even people in the same TS channels as them at the time.  I was one of those attacked while in a fleet/TS with my former friends -- I fought back, and lived, but you can perhaps imagine what that kind of thing does to your trust with your old 'friends.'

 

At the time I wrote this:

 

For most of us, that was when fear turned into dispair.  Everyone who could took their bribes, or simply ran for their lives.  As everyone was running, I let my ship drift to a stop in space and watched the catastrophe unfold.  It was eye opening.  I saw alliancemate after alliancemate steal anything he could get his hands on and run for it.  I saw people backstab each other.  I saw people drop corp tag and immediately start hunting their former allies.  It was shameful.  It was sickening.  I watched as our proud alliance shattered into a mob of terrified, desperate pub trash robbing and killing each other for a chance to survive.

 

I came to realize I wasn't the only one sitting there.  In fact, there were dozens of us, stunned into inaction.  After a while, the mob left us, and we still sat there.  A long time, we just sat there and waited, no one saying anything.  Someone said the russians were spotted in the next system.  The remaining few looked at each other, and did nothing.  Then one guy moved to set up ambush position near the pipe.  The rest of us moved into place as well.  I don't really know why -- there was no great design or principle behind it.  Perhaps it was nothing more than habit.  

 

If this were a proper story I would tell you how we stood like Leonidas, crowned in glory.  We did not.  There was no glory, just our faces smashed in the dirt.  I wish I could tell you we gave a heroic speech, and inspired everyone in the fight for freedom.  We did not.  We had no leaders, much less cause.  I wish I could tell you that we killed hundreds, nay, thousands of russians.  We did not -- they rolled over us like the tide.  Not a single russian died.  Hell, they didn't even hesitate.  I wish I could tell you anyone knew, or cared, that we stood and died on our land.  But that's not what happened.  It wasn't a fight at all -- the russians took everything from us, as we pathetically tried to resist.  But we did not yield, and we did not run.

 

A few hours later, the Russians sacked Doril, the last remaining AAA outpost.  We now had no land, anywhere, at all.  No bases, no infrastructure, no leaders, no plan, nothing.  We had no fuel, no ammunition, no replacement ships, no allies, no force in reserve, nothing.  We fist bumped our romanian niggas and other friends one last time, and told them to go and do what they could to survive.  We would remember them, and perhaps some day in the future we could repay their loyalty.

 

AAA went into its final death spiral.  We started the war with 13,000 pilots.  The number quickly dropped to 10,000....5,000...2500...1000...and then bottomed out at 800.  The russians claimed a portion of the south as their home, created a few new alliances as buffer states/vassals, and sold the rest at public auction.  All the news sites ran stories congratulating the russians on their glorious conquest, and summing up the end of the war.  Life began to settle into the new status quo.  Everyone said the russians won; the war was over.

 

Everyone except us.

 

Next:  Scalding Ass

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Seriously, you need to write books. I'm hooked.

This ^ Seriously, I can imagine Garbad as a Mace Griffin charachter, getting revenge and kicking ass!

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SCALDING PASS

 

It was April, 2011 -- six months after the war broke out, and a few days after the russians declared the war "over."  PL, considering their contract fulfilled, moved back to the north.  The Carebear Pipe was gifted to The Initiative, one of the russian's american allies.  The russians kept the prime outter ring systems for themselves, and then began selling systems for as little as 500m a month (far below the ~25-50b a month AAA charged).  

 

But despite the low prices, the Russians had difficulty finding renters, because prospective buyers checking out their potential real estate quickly learned the War was not quite as over as the news outlets reported.  

 

Despite the massive challenges in lack of material, leadership, and everything else...there were still 800 of us who would not leave the South.  As I mentioned in my last poast, its hard to describe why.  But AAA teamspeak was paid up for a year, and most of us were in the habit of logging on daily and doing our thing.  Even after the war was "over," we just...kept doing it.  Most of the 800 who were left fit a certain type -- independent types, who loved small gang pvp, and who just plain didn't want to give up.  We lurked about in an area called Scalding Pass, aka, Scalding ass.

 

In retrospect, its easy to see the implications of this.  Take a large force of soldiers, considered the finest skirmishers in the south...then put them through hell, so that ~95% of them die, give up, or burn out...drop them into a land of unending combat, with only your skill and endless vigilance keeping you from instant death, with no hope of help and everyone seeking your head...force them to live on their wits, off of what they could steal or make without help...and then let this continue...well, forever.  This crucible hardened the shit out of already hard men.  Our shared suffering (and the hate of russians), pulled us together.  The "target rich environment" honed our skills...and the utter lack of resources made us very lean, and very hungry.  Our will made us able to endure repeated morale shocks and disappointments, defeats, and long term abuse.  We were in effect, Unbreakable.  But that's all in retrospect.

 

At the time, we logged in, and did what we had always done.  From our earliest days, we had dominated at skirmishing -- small, fast ships looking for stragglers, looking for weakness, controlling information and movement.  We called it pregaming before -- the hours of hit and run mr sexiiness in preparation for the fleet actions.  But now that our fleets were gone...tbh, not much changed.

 

As for me, I got lucky:

 

So I recovered all my assets, despite the blockade.  Most were not so fortunate.  Those of us who were left shared what we had, so everyone at least had ammo.  But we needed to do something to make money -- we just didn't know what.

 

The fat, weak renters provided ample targets.  The russians backed off, expecting AAA to just implode or grow bored.  Besides, great armadas do not fight a few petty insurgents.  The Initiative had the resources, manpower, and desire to fight...but found themselves completely unable to deal with our skirmishing attacks.  So the war was "over," yet the south continued to burn.  The rate of killing and destruction not only failed to decrease, it began to slowly accelerate.

 

The month after the war "ended," was my best month for kills ever.  Over 350 dead communists, a glorious sight.  And I was not alone.  Despite hemorrhaging from 13k down to 800, AAA was #3 in eve for alliance kills....the scalding pass was by far the most dangerous system in eve....and the russians simply turned off their killboard so no public record existed of their losses.  Meanwhile, the news agencies (owned, coincidentally, by PL and the goons), reported nothing at all.

 

http://i.imgur.com/6M003hW.jpg

http://i.imgur.com/Ch4f2HM.jpg

http://i.imgur.com/idCQEvr.jpg

 

After all, the war was over.  So why were so many russians dying?

 

NEXT:  Wormholes and Battlebears

 

Moar Propagandas:

 

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These EVE stories are really good, even if I don't know anything about the game itself, moar pl0x!

 

I'm also curious to know what happened to the Golden Fleet as you've stopped mentioning it, was it part of the ~800 that remained loyal?

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These EVE stories are really good, even if I don't know anything about the game itself, moar pl0x!

 

I'm also curious to know what happened to the Golden Fleet as you've stopped mentioning it, was it part of the ~800 that remained loyal?

I'm also curious what happened to the Golden Fleet.
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These EVE stories are really good, even if I don't know anything about the game itself, moar pl0x!

 

I'm also curious to know what happened to the Golden Fleet as you've stopped mentioning it, was it part of the ~800 that remained loyal?

 

I'd doubt it.  Golden fleet sounds like it was made of dedicated capital and supercap pilots... so the regular capital ship pilots maybe could've stayed on, but supercapital pilots are basically stuck in their ship (supercapitals can't dock in a station, so you either have to leave it floating at a starbase (which means it can get stolen by anyone with access to the base) or you have to log off in it with a second character.  And cap/supercap pilots didn't really do skirmish warfare like Garbad is describing back in the day, either... which means they'd basically be letting their account sit because any supercaps they deployed would get instantly counter-dropped by Russians

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Wormholes and Battlebears

 

Despite the genocidal level slaughter of bears and anyone else who dared to live on southern soil, not much changed for quite a long time.  Empires simply do not fall because careless cargo haulers get murdered. Even thousands of dead haulers can be endured, or so they told their rank and file.  They could simply wait us out.

 

This led to a lot of long nights sitting around gates, roaming through space as the locals cowered, and more.  We had our famous Sing A Long Roams, we had week long camps, we had endless small gang action, and we even had occasional major fleet ops.  We struck like a lightning bolt from the clear blue sky, ravaged an area, and scattered before the russian reinforcements arrived.  We were unable (usually) to stand and fight, but when we could descend on a few stragglers, it was like the hill people coming down on them.  And despite repeated efforts, neither the muricans or the russians could stop us.

 

Our tactics and doctrines continued to evolved.  Due to an extreme lack of money and materials, it was essential that we kept losses to a minimum.  For while we could always buy ships on the public market, with no way to produce materials locally, the long transport to the south was a great risk, even with our skirmishing supremacy.

 

In addition to our tried and true skirmishing favorites, we also began using a lot of black ops ships.  These ships could warp while cloaked, allowing us to freely stalk and escape.  We grew extremely adept at stealth bomber runs, unleashing a crushing alpha strike capable of destroying an entire fleet before escaping with impunity.  We also began using T3 doctrines.  Originally conceived of as a better (but far more expensive) version of armorhacs, these ships are capable of in field refits to allow black ops cloaking devices, interdiction nullifiers, probes, and many other roles.  Noobs and poors dared not use them, but for hardened veterans capable of staying alive even in extremely adverse situations, they allowed for tremendous flexibility.

 

In addition, although the russian empires by now had an inexhaustible supply of T1 materials and substantial stocks of T2 materials, T3 materials could only be obtained by wormholes.  Wormholes have mass limits and various other tricks that prevent permanent settlements and large organizations from taking over, so they were perfect for small gangs of carebears to move in, strip mine an area, build what they needed, and move out.  It didn't take long for us to realize that fit us perfectly.  A few veteran bears began the concept later called battlebears -- carebears who packed everything into one mobile home and moved about nomadically building whatever they could, while still being capable of defending themselves.  Other groups began to lock down and exploit NPC 0.0 space -- ostensibly held by the russians, yet they were simply unable to prevent us from doing as we pleased there.  We routinely farmed their own space using carrier assist and tengus as they impotently skirmished our warriors.

 

This all culminated in the Suitcase doctrine.  Because we were still fundamentally nomadic hobos, we were all required to be able to grab everything and move with less than 5 minutes notice.  We each owned a carrier that was used as a cargo hauler, triage repair ship, and under some conditions as a combat ship.  Each person was also required to own at least 2 skirmishing ships, 1 black ops ship, 1 armor logi, 1 shield logi, and as many doctrine ships (such as T3 tengus) as you could carry, plus all supplies, fuel, ammo, and so on.  This made us able to move vast distances at any time, and when we landed could project a devastating array of small ship and combat options while remaining almost completely individually self sufficient.

 

http://i.imgur.com/MYyiGcX.png

 

While hardly respectable land owning farmers, our wealth accordingly began to grow.  When the russians would figure out where we were, they would move in, we would outrun them, find a new base, and set up camp again.  Meanwhile our skirmishers roamed far and wide, burning everything and anything we could find.  Our opponents called us cowards, cockroaches, and everything else...but the south kept burning.

 

One night, we got welcome news -- our romanian friends contacted us, offering to coordinate reaving...and offering us a gift.  Our old CEO, guru, was now a russian pet.  His Nyx Supercarrier was based in a place called Insmother, deep in russian space, which was defended by a local russian force of around 600 russians.  Our hunter killers moved out that night.

 

http://i.imgur.com/l9BuvFn.jpg

 

We came crashing in, slaughtering the russians and tackling the Nyx.  We told Guru to get on TS or die.  We dragged him into the fleet channel, and told him to start talking.  If he convinced us his actions were justified before his ship ran out of armor, he lived.  Otherwise...

 

He told us we owed him -- that he led us, he trained us, he molded us into what we were.  He told us he made the best decision he could to save the corp.  He told us that the money didn't influence his decision, that he had decided it was time to go long before.  He was the leader, leaders make hard decisions.  He told us there was no shame in defeat, and that the russians were fair masters.  He said he knew we were angry, and that was fair.  He made a mistake.  He told us that brothers fight, but remain brothers.  He could help us -- he was a proven fighter and leader.  He could help us find the russian fleet.  He was a southerner.  He was one of us.

 

We pondered his words...

 

http://i.imgur.com/TSv3ih4.jpg

The killmail was 35 billion, just like his Judas' bribe.

 

It was now approaching the 1st anniversary of the war.  Killing guru was a sweet revenge, but it only made us want more.  After all, we were not only wronged by him.  First, our former "friends" must die.  Then the russians.  And god help anyone who tries to keep us from our homeland.  We started seriously talking and planning -- what could a small, mobile group of skirmishers do to destroy an army with thousands of fighters, entrenched fortresses, large income, and many allies?

 

Next:  THE SOUTH WILL RISE AGAIN

 

Moar propogandas:

 

https://soundcloud.com/shutupandshave/wrecking-shot?in=thetank24/sets/eve-online

https://soundcloud.com/davidkmagnus/dreads?in=thetank24/sets/eve-online

https://soundcloud.com/user9206613/how-to-stay-aligned-final-mix?in=thetank24/sets/eve-online

https://soundcloud.com/shutupandshave/fuck-goons?in=thetank24/sets/eve-online

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This reads better than any sci fi novel, hope the endings a good 'un!

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Tonight I was KIA vs brave, my first podding in 2014. 

 

http://i.imgur.com/EuFKiNu.jpg

 

https://zkillboard.com/kill/42934630/

 

My armorhac ishtar was shot down by a combination of friendly fire from snigger bombers and whatever other fail shit brave runs with 2 month old retards.  RIP 450 mil isk (before SRP).  Outnumbered approx 3.6:1, killed 224 and lost 29.

 

As for why we are fighting...well, some things never change.  Some hatreds never die.

 
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How does Garbad pass this shit onto you? Does he like tell you through chat or sumtin?

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How does Garbad pass this shit onto you? Does he like tell you through chat or sumtin?

Are you dim? Wotlabs has a personal messenger system.

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2 months is way to long me and my Maulus buddies are about 1 week old. I was training skills to get ewar modules online as I was flying to the fight. (wasn't on for this one but was for the last 2)

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How does Garbad pass this shit onto you? Does he like tell you through chat or sumtin?

This forum is the only form of human communication possible at all on this planet, so it must be telepathically I guess. If only there were other ways to send eachother texts etc...

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