The scimitar is almost classic in its Minmatar lines. Fast, specialized, and in a wings to the wind sort of way . . . sexy. Mike loved his, the way it moved, the thanks he would earn flying it. How welcome he was when he came into an incursion area in it. BandAid was his ticket to fly with good people.
Was . . . dammit.
Gallente space, not a dozen jumps from one of his major bases. The call went out that the Sansha were falling back and a ‘mom fleet’ was going to form. Mike was asked to fetch his Scimitar it was a bit of a trip . . . Mike looked at the people asking, people he had flown with before and trusted. Off he went.
There it hung, the sounds of construction on the walls of the hanger as balconies were being installed all through the bases. This was one of the ship he would like floating in sight when he went to bed. He transferred over to the ship and started the jumps back to the fleet which was forming.
Both . . . it had been tried before . . . shield and armor fleets joining up for the big fight. The question was would this be a failfit of a fleet or could they make a run for it. He looked at the fleet roster and relaxed. If these people told him that they had a plan for taking the Supercap in Frigates he would join them in the attempt. Donna, Divya, Grantavious, Fox, all competent pilots and people he trusted.
On arrival at the gate he listened as the planning doubled in complexity, cap chains and procedures for what calls and who would make them . . . assigning and re-assigning squad, wing, and even fleet command. Last minute entries and vouching for one and other as nobody wanted to see any of the scavengers manage to weasel their way in.
Time passed, logi chat channels assigned, people were moved again. Fleet passed 60, 61 . . .
Mike double checked his alignment with the gate as the two minute warning was given. He then desperately hit the cancel as he started to jump to warp. “Dammit!! No!!!”
“Who jumped early?” Was called on the comms, Mike would have answered but he was grinding his teeth as he tried to get clear of the mess he now found himself in. No, the Sansha were waiting. This was to be their last stand and they made the foolish lone entry pay the price. Locked, targetted, blown away.
“Me, I slipped . . . dammit”
“Mahk, I got another scimmitar a few jumps away, y’all head over and grab it. I’ll set you a contract so you can stay in the fleet.” The drawl was music to his ears.
“Thanks Grant, on my way.”
It wasn’t his fitting, but it would do. He made it back and got into the battle. Basi’s dies but nothing else seemed to suffer. General laughter filled the channels when the armor logis complained about not getting a chance to do too much because the shield logis were stealing all the glory. Mike smiled and sighd and continued to spread reps and watch for the calls. It was almost anticlimatic when the supercarrior exploded then the joyous cry “We got it! We got a blueprint for a nightmare.”
The Basi pilots were reimbursed, the ‘drop’ auctioned to pilots in the fleet and the split sent to all concerned. Celebrations rang across the constellation . . . Mike flew away from them. He returned the scimitar to its hanger and re-contracted it to Grant. He then tood a drake that had been gathering dust in his hanger and slwoly (very slowly) flew for home.
Bad jumps can happen, try not to let them happen to you.
Setting up a Mom fleet takes longer than finishing the whole thing
Good logis make a fleet, idiots like me make good comedy . . . sheesh
A well run fleet can get away with dual tanking, shields and armor were in separate wings and careful as could be. Even so, the alpha of the fighter bombers took basislisks out one two three. The Amarran battleship, being flown by a goon-Vily, seemed to be the favorite target of the incoming. This was fine. he only touched armor once or twice and gave all the logis someone to keep targeted and at least one repper running on at all times.
Having seen the idiocy I can display at least one pilot said “Well that is one less vote for you.”