BirthdayMay 9, 2022 (4 years old)
Next BirthdayMay 9, 2027 (200 days)
Combat
Kills15
Losses20
Efficiency43%
Danger Ratio50%
ISK
Destroyed27.58b
Lost862.65m
ISK Efficiency97%
Balance+26.72b
Solo
Solo Kills2
Solo Ratio13%
Final Blows4
Combat Points15
Other
NPC Losses10
NPC Loss Ratio50%
Avg Kills/Day0.01
ActivityInactive
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Bio
Orson's eyes are red from hours on alert. Always he feels the pull of the ever-gaping, ever-consuming maw of the wormholes around his home- his fleeting companions. Just as he slips nodding into a waking dream of grass and real coffee the screech of his ship's alarm peels him back to reality. Puttering towards the ripping shreds of swirling matter leading to the next system was an unlucky mining frigate dirty and positively seeping valuable deep space gas- or at least that is how it appeared to Orson's jackal eyes. He slow-burned cloaked towards the prey.
He may have let him pass undisturbed on a different day... but not today. Today the only thing more voracious than the wormholes with which Orson was so familiar was another primordial force that had permeated his life: war. Unfortunatelsy for the blissfully unaware huff pig now coming into range morsels like him fed the belly of that beast and it was pilots like Orson that put them in its bowl.
Flipping the familiar switches with practiced fingers the assault began Webs arrested the target and a dead pirate's rare scram prevented it from warping off. A swarm of drones and guns erupted from Orson's ship. This was taking too long, though, and something was wrong.
Very wrong.
Defensive alarms sounded and Orson knew he was trapped. A fat, easy kill's seductive scent lead him straight into an ambush and the his lonely hull could not weather the inevitable storm coming long alone. That storm's thunder struck in Orson's ears as the support fleet of the bait ship dropped in synchrony around him initiating a cacophony of bells inidicating more guns than worth counting were locking onto his signature.
White teeth unaccustomed to sight shown uncomfortably in a stretching smile across Orson's face. His brow was creased. Not in a furrow, but instead the peak of a clever grin like his secret was pulling the skin above his nose upward so his eyes could better watch the show about to begin. Drawn back were the curtains and the performance kicked off with a bang as an army of Orson's compatriots blipped into existence behind the ambushing strangers. The strangers were far from home and hope as Orson's grin broadened. The strangers forgot who had...
HOLE CONTROL
He may have let him pass undisturbed on a different day... but not today. Today the only thing more voracious than the wormholes with which Orson was so familiar was another primordial force that had permeated his life: war. Unfortunatelsy for the blissfully unaware huff pig now coming into range morsels like him fed the belly of that beast and it was pilots like Orson that put them in its bowl.
Flipping the familiar switches with practiced fingers the assault began Webs arrested the target and a dead pirate's rare scram prevented it from warping off. A swarm of drones and guns erupted from Orson's ship. This was taking too long, though, and something was wrong.
Very wrong.
Defensive alarms sounded and Orson knew he was trapped. A fat, easy kill's seductive scent lead him straight into an ambush and the his lonely hull could not weather the inevitable storm coming long alone. That storm's thunder struck in Orson's ears as the support fleet of the bait ship dropped in synchrony around him initiating a cacophony of bells inidicating more guns than worth counting were locking onto his signature.
White teeth unaccustomed to sight shown uncomfortably in a stretching smile across Orson's face. His brow was creased. Not in a furrow, but instead the peak of a clever grin like his secret was pulling the skin above his nose upward so his eyes could better watch the show about to begin. Drawn back were the curtains and the performance kicked off with a bang as an army of Orson's compatriots blipped into existence behind the ambushing strangers. The strangers were far from home and hope as Orson's grin broadened. The strangers forgot who had...
HOLE CONTROL
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