3.80
Denis MacCumber
1d ago
May 26, 2018(8y)
May 26, 2027(332d)
Combat
Kills435
Losses461
Efficiency49%
ISK
Destroyed120.25b
Lost25.22b
ISK Eff.83%
Solo
Solo Kills141
Solo Ratio32%
Final Blows198
Points498
Other
NPC Losses60
NPC Loss Ratio13%
Avg Kills/Day0.15
ActivityMedium
Minmatar
Vherokior
3.80
Denis MacCumber
Last Active
1d ago
Birthday
May 26, 2018 (8 years old)
Next Birthday
May 26, 2027 (332 days)
Combat
Kills435
Losses461
Efficiency49%
Danger Ratio87%
ISK
Destroyed120.25b
Lost25.22b
ISK Efficiency83%
Balance+95.04b
Solo
Solo Kills141
Solo Ratio32%
Final Blows198
Points498
Other
NPC Losses60
NPC Loss Ratio13%
Avg Kills/Day0.15
ActivityMedium
Bio
≡√≡ Online
The stars had always called to Denis MacCumber. As a child, he would press his face against the viewport of his family's habitat on Astoh, straining to see beyond it's vast shadow into the deeper darkness where distant suns beckoned. Now, at thirty-eight, he pilots the interstellar transport vessel Ganja across the void between systems, carrying essential medical marijuana supplies that no automated ship can be trusted to deliver.
Denis wasn't supposed to be alone. The Ganja was designed for a crew of five, but budget cuts and the growing reliability of AI systems had whittled away the human presence until only a single pilot remained—a reluctant concession to regulations requiring human oversight for critical cargo.
In his quarters, Denis keeps a small terrarium of earth plants—his only living companions. He talks to them sometimes, explaining the stellar phenomena they pass, describing the silent ballet of distant nebulae that paint the blackness with impossible colors. The plants never answer, but he imagines they appreciate the carbon dioxide of his words.
Each night cycle, Denis records his mandatory log entry, his voice echoing in the empty command center: "Day 847. All systems nominal." Then, after a pause: "Still here." What he doesn't record is how he presses his hand against the observation dome, feeling the cold that separates him from the vacuum, wondering what it would be like to touch a star.
He had dreamed of space since childhood, but not like this—not in endless isolation, ferrying cargo between worlds he never truly visits. Yet someone must make these journeys. Someone must ensure the colonies receive their lifelines. And so Denis continues, a reluctant guardian of the spaces between worlds, secretly hoping that somewhere in the vast emptiness, he might find something—or someone—that makes the journey worth more than its destination.
"They will retaliate. We must be prepared."
"Non-essential personnel, abandon ship."
Michael Kiwanuka - Cold Little Heart
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nOubjLM9Cbc&list=RDnOubjLM9Cbc&start_radio=1&ab_channel=MichaelKiwanukaVEVO
The stars had always called to Denis MacCumber. As a child, he would press his face against the viewport of his family's habitat on Astoh, straining to see beyond it's vast shadow into the deeper darkness where distant suns beckoned. Now, at thirty-eight, he pilots the interstellar transport vessel Ganja across the void between systems, carrying essential medical marijuana supplies that no automated ship can be trusted to deliver.
Denis wasn't supposed to be alone. The Ganja was designed for a crew of five, but budget cuts and the growing reliability of AI systems had whittled away the human presence until only a single pilot remained—a reluctant concession to regulations requiring human oversight for critical cargo.
In his quarters, Denis keeps a small terrarium of earth plants—his only living companions. He talks to them sometimes, explaining the stellar phenomena they pass, describing the silent ballet of distant nebulae that paint the blackness with impossible colors. The plants never answer, but he imagines they appreciate the carbon dioxide of his words.
Each night cycle, Denis records his mandatory log entry, his voice echoing in the empty command center: "Day 847. All systems nominal." Then, after a pause: "Still here." What he doesn't record is how he presses his hand against the observation dome, feeling the cold that separates him from the vacuum, wondering what it would be like to touch a star.
He had dreamed of space since childhood, but not like this—not in endless isolation, ferrying cargo between worlds he never truly visits. Yet someone must make these journeys. Someone must ensure the colonies receive their lifelines. And so Denis continues, a reluctant guardian of the spaces between worlds, secretly hoping that somewhere in the vast emptiness, he might find something—or someone—that makes the journey worth more than its destination.
"They will retaliate. We must be prepared."
"Non-essential personnel, abandon ship."
Michael Kiwanuka - Cold Little Heart
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nOubjLM9Cbc&list=RDnOubjLM9Cbc&start_radio=1&ab_channel=MichaelKiwanukaVEVO
Dashboard
Stats
Kills22
Losses35
Efficiency39%
ISK Destroyed28.92b
ISK Lost2.92b
ISK Efficiency91%
Solo Kills7
Solo Losses20
NPC Losses10
Blob Factor61.64
Active TimezoneEUTZ
Final Blows15
Points85
Activity Heat Map (EVE Time)
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Intel Profile
PlaystyleSmall Gang (20 kills)
Solo 30% Small 35% Mid 30% Blob 5%
Avg Fleet: 65.5 Bait (6x)
Typically Flies
Typically Loses
Top Fleet Partners
