06 July 2009

Fair Play

It began like this...

Oops.



Act 1: Teh typoe

Rigs are expensive.

Generally, the price of rigs goes from high to ridiculously high... I think it has to do with the expertise involved in modifying a ship and the materials, of course. Rather than spend all that money, I have learned to shop around for the best regions for materials and prices, to set up clever buy orders, bring all the stuff in and let my fit crew do the work themselves. It has been years since they learned the trade from Prof. Jalvon Ryder at UC, and that 3-run T2 polycardboard BPC he brought; since then they have become rather good at inventing new variations.

Anyway, having rigged my racing ships, I still like to collect the materials so these accumulate in the hangar -just in case I have to ever build a replacement. Occasionally we will take all that stuff, build a rig and put it for sale. So Tuesday a couple of weeks ago, late at night the rig came out of the oven, I gingerly took it to Dodixie and checked market prices. There were a couple of people buying but, who cares, it's not like I sell stuff a buy order price...

Just before going away to sleep, I set my sell order. Looking back, I think I may have made a typo. Or three.

Click.

"Yes, I am sure." Click.

"Wait a minute, I take that back. Can I take that back? Oh..."

Four hundred million ISK.

Do you have any idea how much time it takes to save that money? And how much fun you could actually have spending it? Imagine the kinds of ships and fittings, maybe even faction... several times over. How many fully-fit cruisers? How much time to fly, I don't know, as militia or pirate or anything, because, you know, you can afford to lose your ship?

Well, I think it is like a small fleet worth of money. I had just given away a small fleet.

Hissy fit.


Act 2: Talk to the man

Having come back from my walk, I apologized to those around I upset with all that yelling and, with a fresh dose of caffeine by my side, looked at my screen. The holo smirked back at me.

The rig had sold, of course, immediately. And because it was a sell order at basically one thousandth of its price -as opposed to, say, a direct sale to the best buyer- the system had dutifully sold it at my price. Right, the one I typed in myself. Not at 50%, not at 1%, but at 0.1% of market value.

May I say, this does not exactly feel like leaving a good tip.

And, how frustrating of course, there was nothing I could do to take it back. Rewind time? Undo my mistake? I don't know, raise the price, anything? Nothing! To! Do!

So I did the next best thing and I shared my feelings with the happy winner.

2009.06.23 21:39
Grr... I should not play this late at night..

Enjoy you rig :)

He had done nothing wrong, he just was there at the right place and the right time to win Quin's Stupid Typo Lottery. I just let him know how upset I was for having done something while sleepwalking.

I thought he would laugh all the way to the bank. Instead, he replied two days afterwards...

2009.06.25 21:05
I put buy orders up for t2 rigs mostly to keep the scammers buy orders from working. I base my prices on current jita buy order prices. My point is - even tho you may not have gotten what you could have using a sell order, you didn't get scammed and you got jita fair market value for your rig. If you were tired and not paying attention the result could have been much worse, you'd have sold it for 451k instead of 340mil w/o my buy order up to prevent it.

Now, now, he thought I was accusing him of scamming (I was not), politely pointed out he was buying at a fair price (he was) and that, had I been scammed, it could have been worse.

But... how come I did not even get scam price?

Wait a minute...

All I got was my lousy price. Was he telling me he'd paid 340M to someone?

I replied telling him I was not blaming anyone but myself. By the way, could he please double-check that he had paid all that money?

2009.06.25 23:16
No, no... I am not blaming you, I'm blaming me. Just wanted you to know why :) I really felt awful when I realized I had sold it and at how much, and thought "this guy is going to think I am stupid." Nah... just way too sleepy. It was a three-figure typo. Okay, it was stupid.

But not a scam.

Yes, I saw there was an order for 300M or more and that made it all worse, 'cause I did not even get a million.

By the way, could you check again how much money you paid? Because in my log, the rig went at 444K -that was my sell order price. I know the buy order was yours, but did it really take 340M from you wallet?

Oh... had he sent all that money, that I did not receive? If he was right, then hundreds of millions of ISK had just gone poof. Suddenly it was not just my money, it could also be his money that was missing in the trading system. Our money. And if something was missing, maybe we could get something back. (Some NPC was probably pocketing them. I have lived in the Republic, you know, and I recognize the fishy smell of government corruption - I just did not expect the same from the SCC. Someone would have to explain this. Petition! Lawsuit! Death by a thousand papercuts!)

So, first step in a corruption case: get the receipts.

At least we had moved on from "lost all that money" to "maybe will get some of it back."


Act 3: Surprise, surprise!

I came back next day to find an evemail.

2009.06.26 09:32
Ah!!

I didn't think to check my wallet transactions. I have no problem correcting the situation for you. :)

It turns out there was no need to petition, the money had not disappeared. He had paid my price originally but genuinely thought he had paid his price so he really thought he was poorer. He was actually sitting on a pile of money and just had not noticed.

Then I checked my wallet:

Fair Play


He had transfered the difference over to my account!

I am impressed. I mean, it was a stupid mistake on my part and maybe he had no obligation to help me fix it, other than what he thought would be fair. And he thought it would be fair... to pay the buy price! I also have my own theory about this, I think that if you are nice and polite to people, people tend to be nice and polite to you -but then again, I am reminded that "asking nicely" is not the the fix for "stupid mistake."

At the end of he day, I am actually happier it all turned out this way. This means that not everyone out there is out to scam, backstab, burglarize, gank or grief you, that there is genuinely good people that do care whether someone else is having a rough time or made a mistake. Or maybe it means that being nice to other people really takes you places -charisma tanking FTW. Maybe I was just lucky.

And the difference between sale price and buy price? I think that is the best money I have ever spent. 'cause a ship can be killed, even a small fleet can disappear in the blink of an eye (doh), but the feeling -no, the certainty- that there are strangers in the cluster capable of a random act of fairness, well, that is so much harder to kill.

So here is to Ballistic Mystic, thank you so very much!

I am setting you +11 blue forever. Maybe we will meet again...

-Q

30 June 2009

EVE Blog Banter #9: Down with Downtime!

Welcome to the ninth installment of the EVE Blog Banter and its first contest, the monthly EVE Online blogging extravaganza created by CrazyKinux. The EVE Blog Banter involves an enthusiastic group of gaming bloggers, a common topic within the realm of EVE Online, and a week to post articles pertaining to the said topic. The resulting articles can either be short or quite extensive, either funny or dead serious, but are always a great fun to read! Any questions about the EVE Blog Banter should be directed here . Check out other EVE Blog Banter articles at the bottom of this post!

"Last month Ga'len asked us which game mechanic we would most like to see added to EVE. This month Keith "WebMandrill" Nielson proposes to reverse the question and ask what may be a controversial question: Which game mechanic would you most like to see *removed completely* from EVE and why? I can see this getting quite heated so lets keep it civil eh?"



Two minutes - Molden Heath - Occator-class Transport Carillon

The ship shook as another missile hit.

Without looking away from his tactical display, the Captain barked orders. "Damage control, status!"

"Sir! Armor at 27%, we are overheating resists up, repair unit is offline, repeat, offline."

"Capacitor?"

"Zero, or close to," reported Engineering, "they are neutralizing as fast as we can generate, but I think I can keep the hardeners going."

Competent, he thought, shame she would have signed up right before this hauling mission. The pirates had ambushed them on the last low-sec gate of the return trip, before entering warp. Now the pack of frigates was slowly taking the ship apart... but there was a small window of opportunity and he would jump through it or die trying.

"Helm, keep trying to align to any celestial out there and warp to it."

"We are being bumped, captain, cannot align.""

"Align, damn it! Just keep trying again and again. Engineering, buy us all the time you can get!"

--

One minute - Tash-Murkon - Exploration vessel Voilà

"Nothing on scan, ma'am. Shall I scan again?"

Fire at will!, she thought, and smiled at the prospect of a silvery trail of scan probes abandoned in space. Oh, what was the point... there was nothing in this system... nothing in this region. There was probably nothing left in the entire cluster. She looked at the time in the display. Less than a minute.

"Yes please. Move pattern, then scan once more."

The point was practice. To keep skills sharp.

--

45 seconds - Essence, 25th FDU Defensive Patrol 1000h
(Graveyard Shift)

They had been flying for the entire shift and spotted no targets.

"So I says 'careful, that's not one of ours' just as he realizes he's trying to dock at the wrong station. Sentry guns almost get him good, warped out in half structure, har, har, har..."

The squadron had a clean record. Not impeccable, but clean. No kills, no loses, no action, no nothing. They came out at 1000 hours every day, patrolled until 1100 and handed over to the next shift.

The banter on comms was interrupted by the flight leader's voice "Ladies, cut the chatter. Time's over, dock up and get some sleep. See you guys tomorrow."

One by one, the squadron aligned and docked at a friendly station. All but one.

"Sir, Beaucheff here. What if we overstay shift?"

The militia flight leader started to reply a string of obscenities, then thought better. It was actually amusing. "You know what, Bo? That is the best damn idea I have heard in some time. But we seem to be all docked up so, why don't you do just that, overstay. We meet afterwards and then you tell us all about how it went, mkay? By the way, you keep your clone updated, don't you?"

--

30 seconds - Tash-Murkon - Voilà

"Thank you, that would be enough. Retrieve scan probes."

--

15 seconds - Molden Heath - Carillon

"Sir! Hull integrity 50%, I do not think she will take it!"

"She can, and she will."

The PA system blared "all hands brace for emergency warp, all hands brace for emergency warp."

--

DOWNTIME - Essence - in the dark

Lieutenant Beaucheff saw his flight systems shut down, then everything went dark.

--

DOWNTIME - Tash-Murkon - in the dark

"Latte, as usual?"

"Yes, a small one please."

--

DOWNTIME - Molden Heath - in the dark

The transport hung half-dead in space, far away from gates, celestials, pirate ships or anything else. All alone. Inside it was pitch-black, the incessant hum of a living ship having been interrupted.

But it was not quiet.

There was the cheering sound of a living crew.

--

DOWNTIME - Essence - in the dark

Beaucheff tried again to bring the systems back to life.

"Come on, 600 seconds to cluster restart? You have to be kidding me..."

It would take time.

--

30 seconds - Molden Heath - Carillon

The transport came out of emergency warp and immediately started aligning to the high-sec gate. The hull breaches were not visible anymore as armies of nanites worked furiously to patch the armour up, powered by newly-restored capacitor.

The small pirate gang, returning from their own emergency warp dispersed and disorganized, was too slow to react in time.

Their quarry had escaped.

--

One minute - Tash-Murkon - Voilà

"Ma'am, readings confirm the presence of kernite, jaspet and, whoa, hedbergite? Here? We're rich!"

She smiled. "Please inform base of the find, and make sure they send an Orca with the miners. We are only rich if we can mine all that before anyone else, you know."

"Aye, Ma'am. Woohoo! Will you look at the size of that rock!"

--

Two minutes - Essence - FDU Defensive Patrol

Beaucheff went for a last tour of the constellation. He had crossed paths with the Offensive Alpha Shift as they were heading for their own patrol, and had briefly talked to them. It was almost funny how the voices on the other side sounded worn out, nervous and jumpy in a way that no one from his shift ever did. He did not want to imagine how they would sound by the time the shift ended. Maybe it had to do with all those bunkers open for business now, and the enemy fleets roaming.

Anyway, would have loved to stay and chat but it was time to go home. His autopilot warped him to the last gate.

Right in front of him, the gate activated. Local spiked.

"Oh, sweet mother..."



DOWNTIME: that time of day, every day, when everything stops in space. No matter how important the battle is, how close you were to docking, how many zillions you have at stake in the market, everything blacks out at 11:00. Ships disperse and warp away, resources appear, conquered areas are to be contested again. A tired universe is made anew, during downtime.

In any case, here is why I think that aspects of downtime are bad: lots of stuff is generated at the same time. Asteroids, bunkers, exploration sites. Opportunities. Not that opportunities are bad, no, no, but having everything generated in one go is sort of unbalancing.

This gives people who fly right after downtime, more opportunities than the people who fly long afterwards.

So what are the chances that downtime is going to go away? Not many, I think. And what can be done about it? Well, downtime is not going to go away by itself overnight. Maybe it needs to be gradual. Maybe some of the stuff that happens at downtime should be replaced by new mechanics. So:
  • Stop doing all of it in one go.
  • Re-spawn some stuff spontaneously during the day.
  • Eventually, re-spawn everything spontaneously during the day.
  • Do away with the need for daily downtime.
I do not think that downtime will go tomorrow or next next week, there may be reasons why it's necessary. In the meantime, maybe we can start walking (ha, ha, walking) away from it. And I will still enjoy my downtime coffee.


Go visit the other participants of the EVE Blog Banter:
  1. Diary of a Space Jockey, Blog Banter: BE GONE!
  2. EVE Newb, (EVE) Remove You
  3. Miner With Fangs, Blog Banter - It's the Scotch
  4. The Eden Explorer, Blog Banter: The Map! The Map!
  5. The Wandering Druid of Tranquility, "Beacons, beacons, beacons, beacons, beacons, mushroom, MUSHROOM!!!"
  6. Inner Sanctum of the Ninveah, Kill the Rats
  7. Mercspector @ EVE, Scotty
  8. EVE's Weekend Warrior, EVE Blog Banter #9
  9. A Merry Life and a Short One, Eve Blog Banter #9: Why Won't You Die?
  10. Into the unknown with gun and camera, Blog Banter – The Hokey Cokey
  11. The Flightless Geek, EVE Blog Banter #9: Remove a Game Mechanic
  12. Sweet Little Bad Girl, Blog Banter 9: Who is Nibbling at My House?
  13. One Man and His Spaceship, Blog Banter 9: What could you do without?
  14. Life in Low Sec, EVE Blog Banter #9: Stop Tarnishing My Halo
  15. Cle Demaari: Citizen, Blog Banter #9: Training for all my men!
  16. A Mule in EVE, He who giveth, also taketh away?
  17. Dense Veldspar, Blog Banter 9
  18. Morphisat’s Blog, Blog Banter #9 – Randomness Be Gone !
  19. Facepalm's Blog, EVE Blog Banter #9: What a new pilot could do without
  20. Memoires of New Eden, You're Fired
  21. Kyle Langdon's Journeys in EVE, EVE Blog Banter #9 Titans? What's a Titan?
  22. Achernar, The gates! The gates are down!
  23. Speed Fairy, EVE Blog Banter #9: Down with Downtime!
  24. I am Keith Neilson, EVE Blog Banter #9-F**K Da Police
  25. Ripe Lacunae, The UI… Where do I begin… (Eve Blog Banter #9)
  26. Clown Punchers, EvE Blogs: What game mechanic would you get rid of?
  27. Estel Arador Corp Services, You've got mail
  28. Epic Slant, Let Mom and Pop Play: EVE Blog Banter #9
  29. Deaf Plasma's EVE Musings, Blog Banter #9 - Removal of Anchoring Delay of POS modules
  30. Podded Once Again, Blog Banter #9 - Do we really need to go AFK?
  31. Postcards from EVE, 2009.07.02.00.29.06
  32. Harbinger Zero, Blog Banter #9 – War Declarations & Sec Status
  33. Warp Scrammed, Blog Banter 9 – Never Too Fast
  34. Ecaf Ersa (EVE Mag), Can a Tractor Tractor a Can?
  35. Thoughts from an Accidental Minmatar Revolutionary, EVE Blog Banter #9 - Aggression timers, WTs and Stargates
  36. Mike Azariah, I don't put much stock in it...
  37. Rettic's Log, Blog Banter: Overview Overload
  38. A Sebiestor Scholar, [OOC] EVE Blog Banter #9: Slaves
  39. Diary of a pod pilot, [OOC] EVE blog banter #9: Because of Falcon
  40. Roc's Ramblings, Blog Banter #9 – Taking Things Slow
  41. The Gaming-Griefer, EVE Sucks, But I Love It: The Memoir of a Masochist
  42. Letrange's EVE Blog, Blog Banter #9: Bye Bye Learning Skills
  43. Lyietfinvar, Remove that monopoly
  44. Sceadugenga, Blog Banter #9
  45. Industrialist with Teeth, EVE Blog Banter #9

20 June 2009

Going places

Come on babe
Why don't we paint the town?
And all that Lag!

-Jita, the Musical.



Remember way back, when Kirith Kodachi came up with this meme, about posting the map with the places you have been? I think I may be a bit late... but anyway, here it goes:


Town, painted


Funny, I did not expect that. It actually does look like I have been around most of Empire. Come to think of it, it has been over two years in space and, with the racing scene, you do get to see places.

I am not a good shot, see, but that is not the same as being a scared shy little mouse that will stick to hi-sec only and pray she does not come across the cat.

I go places.

I still pray I don't see the cat. And if I do, I run like hell!

So, let's look a bit closer...



The interesting bit is realizing that I used to stick to familiar places because of friends and missions, and all that changed when I began racing.

Of course, a racetrack will send you through high and low-sec. That would be the obvious one.

But there is more than the obvious. Did you know that some of us move spare equipment into the race region prior to the race? Paint some more. Also, speed rigs are needed; we had to build our own when we started... that meant shopping for the best prices and hauling stuff out of lowsec. More red paint. And once you had your rigs, why not make some more and sell them? Haul it across the cluster. Or, getting the best racing implants, which in my mind happens to be the Nomad set, go mission in 0.0 for them Thukkers.

A little bit of everything, a little bit of everywhere.

Out of all this, some memories close to my heart would be:
  • Tash-Murkon, God bless them space-billies who would buy anything shiny at retail.
  • That line is my trade run through low-sec, from Metro/Heimatar/Molden (home of polycardboard) to Tash (space-billies).
  • Providence and the Great 0.0 Rally Race.
  • More 0.0, working for the Thukker tribe over at Syndicate/Placid.
  • Exploration in Sukanan.
  • Sinq Laison, home sweet home.
  • The EVE gate.

I guess then, that next stop would have to be deeper into 0.0...

07 June 2009

Racing Cookie

June 111, ISRC Season 7, Race 6
Black Rise, After-race party




That's a racing spec cookie.

  • Triple-chocolate cookie (choco cookie, choco chips, white choco chips)
  • The size of my open hand
  • Yummy

I always buy one on the morning of a race day, at a café close to home. It becomes that day's lucky cookie until after the race, when it becomes... history.

Not that it has been helping much lately, Takashi seems to beat us, cookie or no cookie.

Maybe it needs more chocolate...

03 June 2009

Sniper

I wait, motionless.

I breathe deeply, just like I have been taught, and concentrate.

I hope.

My hands feel around for the edge of the camo blanket and, finding it, pull it aside.

I still harbor hope.

I open my eyes and there are my tools: a scope and a railgun. I was really hoping these would not be there.

But I find, in front of me, tools of destruction. All mine.

How did I end up doing this? Talking, as usual. This time, I let someone talk me in.

I still have some hope that the decision will not be mine, that something will go wrong and I will have to go back. "Oui monsieur," I would say, "I did everything I could. The weapon was damaged when I got it."

Click. But the pieces fit together perfectly. So much for hope.

I plug in. Breathe in, out, concentrate and calm down my pounding heart... the railgun welcomes my mind, senses my pulse, my breathing reflex and starts learning; it comes alive, starts breathing and pulsating by itself, its -his?- movement compensating my own before starting to learn those of the wind.

I lie down and wait with my eyes closed. I can see through my tools.

And I wait, motionless.

Commotion, someone is approaching down there, in the distance. The object of my attention is flanked by people in shades -rather, Evil Things that look like shades, I remind myself. They move with precision and professional cool, yet there is a certain twitchyness about them that almost reminds me of birds scanning for danger, blinking and looking around. Agility implants, surely; they just look nervous but I know they are not. I know I am. One of them looks in my direction and -I shudder to think- right through me. Those shades, they freak me out. Do they know I am here?

My covops suit keeps me safe and hidden but, yes, they know I am here. They must know. They always do.

This means I have only one chance.

But I don't want to take it. I don't want to kill. Ah, but there is a reason they talked me into this. It's because it is the right thing to do.

Apparently.

The gun knows where to deliver its message way, way better than I do; it is a matter of physics. It knows better, so much better in fact, that I am not allowed to aim. Just watch. Ah, but I do know things my gun does not know, I know the best time to shoot: when they are looking the other way, when they have checked, double checked everything, when they have made sure. When they feel safe. When they least expect it. It's a matter of people. That's why the gun is not allowed to shoot. Just aim.

Together, my railgun and I. We know where, we know when.

It feels horrible. Cold. How can killing someone be the right thing? There is always an alternative. I should have quit. One can always not do it. Walk away, just like that.

But I wait.

Just like he told me... how did I allow him to talk me into this? I hate it. I hate the waiting, because it gives me time to think about what I am doing. This is not right.

No... this is right.

Only it does not feel right. Never mind, the feeling will go away.

The birds are calming down. They still look around, protecting the nest, but now they have turned their attention to other corners of their world. Away from me and away from my invisible touch. They start walking away, turning their backs to me. Just a little bit more.

An opening.

In my mind, I gently squeeze the ball to nothing, careful not to disturb the gun.

And we let the charge fly home...

Two men tumble, one of them my target, the other one some poor soul whose job was just to take a bullet for him. Good boy, job well done. Yet behind him, my mark still flops down. Watchful birds are startled and nervously look around for the shooter, guns drawn. They will not find me.

I am invisible.

I might as well, I have just killed someone. I want to crawl under a rock.

I have just shot Tibus Heth, the leader of the State. I have saved the Federation, the State and New Eden. It does feel weirdly right yet totally wrong. Ends should not justify means. Look at what we achieved! Yah, but look at me, look at ourselves now... we are just like them.

A few minutes later my comms confirm that he is not dead, just badly hurt. So badly that he will be sipping his food through an IV drip from now on. Anyway, he will not be causing any more harm.

I whisper a reply in my thoughts, letting my contact know that I am fine and will join him at rendezvous.

I stand up.

A chime -what is that noise at my back? I spin... he is right behind me, wait, what is HE doing here and what is he is raising in my direc... BLAM


--

GAME OVER.


602 POINTS.

At least I took Heth.

But he? He bagged Foiritan. After that he went for Blaque and, after him, was working his way down the Supreme Court for like a zillion points, before getting bored and deciding to take me out.

I put the pointer down in front of the console. Some rifle.

"Is this supposed to be fun? Killing pretend people?"

"Well, actually it gets boring rather quickly. That's why you want to kill other players -that never gets old."

"You griefer. I do not want to play anymore... it's sick. And cheesy, with the covops suit, there is no such thing as a covops suit. And it sucks."

"Do you have anything else in mind?" he asked, still grinning.

"You promised to take me out. Please tell me this was not it," I sniped back.

26 May 2009

Racing Track

17 May 111, Preparations for ISRC Season 7 Exhibition Race 3
Tash-Murkon, Domain, Kor-Azor


At long last, I set up my first race :)

It went much, much better than I expected. It actually worked!

So, where to begin...

First, track design: I sat down with a map and doodled for fifteen minutes, was evil for another five and come up with 'special' ideas for multiple-can waypoints, but not too special. Check.

Then, waypoint setup. I bought as many secure audit containers as needed, click. Assembled each one, click-click-click. Named them as waypoints, click, tippety-tap, click. Filled each one of fifteen with FORTY copies of each waypoint bookmark, click-click-clickclickclickclick-coffeebreak-clickclick-giveup-comeback-click. Click. I mean, check.

Then, someone had to actually lay the track. Paul, being in the wrong corp (not ISRC) he had to ask his CEO for permission to set it up, which he got. Goodie. He flew all the way from Tash to Metropolis in a shuttle to pick his Covops, flew her back to Tash to pick up the cans and then went to Waypoint 15... only to realize he had no role to launch for corp.

A perfectly good hour, wasted.

I was up to me to fix his mess. So I fit a blockade runner for waypoint work, covops cloak, agility fit and token tank. On the up side, my hauler-turned-covops could carry all of the waypoints in a single load, as opposed to his little figate covops, which was good. All eggs, same basket. Check.

I started like an hour before the race, jumping and warping to each location, dropping the waypoint can and anchoring. It took so much more time than I expected, which delayed the race start for a bit. A lot more than a bit.

Anyway, I did build a track from zero, by myself, and I am quite proud of it. Check!

Is this what Killoy has to do before each single one of our season races? Wow, he deserves so much credit for this.

And, for those of you who did not know her, Gyra Rho did this for five whole seasons before KJ took over. And she ran PR before I took that over.


Gyra. She is probably in some beach having margaritas.

I miss Gyra. We all do. I wish she came back, if only for a while. Then she could have track setup, and I wold have her margaritas.

But I digress. We were set for the race!

25 May 2009

EVE Blog Banter #8: Charisma Tanking

Welcome to the eighth installment of the EVE Blog Banter, the monthly EVE Online blogging extravaganza created by CrazyKinux.

This month's topic comes to us from Ga'len at The Wandering Druid of
Tranquility
. He asks: "What new game mechanic or mechanics would you like to see created and brought into the EVE Online universe and how would this be incorporated into the current game universe? Be specific and give details, this is not meant to be a 'nerf this, boost my game play' post like we see on the EVE forums."



Crap, they were catching up. I aligned to the next gate and warped off, just as they came through.

For once I was not flying a frigate or an interceptor. Somehow I had decided to take a Stabber-class cruiser to an important rendezvous and now I was so regretting not having practiced on her for more time. I was being chased, they knew exactly what they were doing while I did not.

And they were slowly catching up. I hit the gate and jumped, with one or my pursuers slowing down from warp at 70 clicks. Oh, slow gate. On the other side I aligned and warped off, just as the tackler uncloaked and started to lock. Deeper into 0.0. I hit the next gate and jumped through with the guy 30 clicks behind me. I could already see the Huzzah Federation logo on his wings... this was going to hurt, soon.

On the other side, I was relieved to see friendly ships. I held my cloak as the gate flashed again for my pursuer, and again and again for two more of their gang - the ones too eager to chase me. We all held cloak while I hailed the Thukker battleship guarding the gate for assistance, hoping that my eight-plus standing with the Tribe would win me some sort of protection.

"The Thukker Tribe does not need enemies," they responded, curtly.

I thought fast, waited until my cloak dropped and then started burning towards the Thukker frigates - only for a few seconds as the Huzzah interceptor webbed me and the rest of his gang started locking on my ship.

"Hostile gang, the Thukker Tribe looks after their friends. You will pay for your mistake!"

Big mistake. Almost as soon as the Malediction was pinned in place by the Thukker frigates, it went poof and vaporized; the hostile Thorax and Rupture started unloading their guns on me as I turned to make a beeline towards the heavier guns of the friendly Tribals. Take that! They would have to either either run the gauntlet or run away.


They ran towards the gate. A Stabber wasn't worth it.

Moments later, salvage crews picked through the remains of the Rupture and the Malediction. Me? I had barely survived, in structure - were it not for the Thukker fleet intervening, I would not have made it.

The Battleship opened a channel.

"Red, you are late. Again."

"Fashionably late, Chief Ovi," I replied. "How nice to see you! Thanks for lending a hand with that rabble..."


--

That's what I would love, that standings with the pirate factions actually meant something in space.

You know, if you spend time on your networking skills, if you know people who know people, if you can handle hostile agents with tact and diplomacy... in short, if you show up as blue on some agent's desk, then why in the world should you not show up as blue to that faction's guns in space?

Making nice with pirate factions should mean that pirate factions are nice to you:

Pirate faction pilots would be neutral towards blues. They would not shoot you on sight, nor help you.

Pirate factions would react to aggression the same as always, of course. You shoot them or their friends, they shoot back and you lose standing. They'd be friendly but not stupid.

Pirate factions would shoot reds. Just like they do today.


With this, investing in standings or social skills (yah, right) would actually change the way that entire swaths of space look at you and, likewise, how you look at that space. The same way lowsec people invest in security status. The same way CONCORD does not like aggression. The same way Empire navies like friendly or dislike enemy militias.

I think pirate factions should hire a few ex-cops, to learn how it's done. 'Cause everyone but them do it.

Then, you could have dodgy friends in dark places, belts or gates (or, your target could, you never know). It would change the way you fit or the way you fly. The way you mission or the way you rat. Imagine surviving an ambush because... you warped back to a belt with friendly rats! :) Or jumping through a gate knowing there is help on the other side. It would spice up things.

I say that tank is anything that helps you survive. If friendlies will not shoot you to begin with, well... would that not be tank as well? Tank depending on social skills?

Definitely. I would call it Charisma Tanking.



List of participants:

1. CrazyKinux's Musing, EVE Blog Banter #8: Care for a little game of SecWars?
2. The Wandering Druid of Tranquility, Wow, that new thing is so shiny!!!
3. I am Keith Nielson, EVE Blog Banter #8 - Return of the Top Gun
4. Once More from the Beginning, 8th EVE Blog Banter May 2009 Edition
5. A merry life and a short one, EVE Blog Banter #8: In the Year of Our Awesome
6. Inner Sanctum of the Ninveah, Planets
7. Helicity Boson, Bantering the blog
8. Achernar, Unique adventures
9. Ecliptic Rift, OOC: EVE Blog Banter 8: Standings and secondary factions
10. The New Edener, EVE Blog Banter #8
11. Journey to New Eden, Eve Blog Banter #8: What new mechanic should be added to Eve?
12. Life, The Universe and Everything, Blog banter 8: mentorship
13. EVE Guru, EBB 8: Yarr! Prepare to be boarded!
14. The Ralpha Dogs, Greed Is Good, Greed Works
15. Rifter Drifter, Blog Banter 8: Strategic Gunnery
16. A Mule in EVE, Expanding EVE
17. Letrange's EvE Blog, 8th Blog Banter
18. Roc's Ramblings, Blog Banter #8
19. The Nude Nerd, Blog Banter #8
20. Scop's Log, Blog Banter #8: "We're caught in a tractor beam! It's pulling us in!"
21. Speed Fairy, EVE Blog Banter #8: Charisma Tanking
22. Industrialist with Teeth, EVE Blog Banter #8: It's Like Tetris for OCD People
23. Diary of a Pod Pilot, EVE blog banter #8: Killing in the name of
24. Talk Unfraid, Physical Communications
More to come!