5.01
Aug 10, 2019
Sep 14, 2006(19y)
Sep 14, 2026(15d)
Combat
Kills1,367
Losses121
Efficiency92%
ISK
Destroyed1.46t
Lost56.99b
ISK Eff.96%
Solo
Solo Kills113
Solo Ratio8%
Final Blows289
Points1,373
Other
NPC Losses28
NPC Loss Ratio23%
Avg Kills/Day0.19
ActivityInactive
Caldari
Achura
5.01
Last Active
Aug 10, 2019
Birthday
Sep 14, 2006 (19 years old)
Next Birthday
Sep 14, 2026 (15 days)
Combat
Kills1,367
Losses121
Efficiency92%
Danger Ratio77%
ISK
Destroyed1.46t
Lost56.99b
ISK Efficiency96%
Balance+1.40t
Solo
Solo Kills113
Solo Ratio8%
Final Blows289
Points1,373
Other
NPC Losses28
NPC Loss Ratio23%
Avg Kills/Day0.19
ActivityInactive
Nothing in the last 7d
Bio
khallisa's dim lit cockpit lay in silence, and it was a silence of three parts.
The most obvious part was a hollow, echoing quiet, made by things that were lacking. If there had been a wind it would have sighed against the coc[pit, set the ship creaking on beams and brushed the silence down the hull like aging inertia stabilizers. If there had been a crowd, even a handful of men inside the ship, they would have filled the silence with conversation and laughter, the clatter and clamour one expects from a cargoship during the dark hours of the night. If there had been music…but no, of course there was no music. In fact there were none of these things, and so the silence remained.
Docked at the station a pair of men huddled at one corner of the ship. they drank with quiet determination, avoiding serious discussions of troubling news. In doing these they added a small, sullen silence to the lager, hollow one. it made an alloy of sorts, a counterpoint.
The third silence was not an easy thing to notice. If you listened for an hour, you might begin to feel it in the metal floor underfoot and in the rough, glittering console behind the command room. It was in the weight of the black titanium sigil hanging on the stern. It was in the slow back and forth of a gravitationnal pendulum detector rubbing along the polished nav bench. and it was in the hands of the woman who stood there, staring at the dark docking bay.
The woman had true black hair, sombre as shadow. Her eyes were dark and distant, and she moved with the subtle certainty that comes from knowing many things.
The Ship was hers, just as the third silence was hers. This was appropriate, as it was the greatest silence of the three, wrapping the other inside itself. It was deep and wide as universe expanding. It was heavy as a lead-rich asteroid. It was the patient, cut-flower sound of a woman who is waiting to die.”
The most obvious part was a hollow, echoing quiet, made by things that were lacking. If there had been a wind it would have sighed against the coc[pit, set the ship creaking on beams and brushed the silence down the hull like aging inertia stabilizers. If there had been a crowd, even a handful of men inside the ship, they would have filled the silence with conversation and laughter, the clatter and clamour one expects from a cargoship during the dark hours of the night. If there had been music…but no, of course there was no music. In fact there were none of these things, and so the silence remained.
Docked at the station a pair of men huddled at one corner of the ship. they drank with quiet determination, avoiding serious discussions of troubling news. In doing these they added a small, sullen silence to the lager, hollow one. it made an alloy of sorts, a counterpoint.
The third silence was not an easy thing to notice. If you listened for an hour, you might begin to feel it in the metal floor underfoot and in the rough, glittering console behind the command room. It was in the weight of the black titanium sigil hanging on the stern. It was in the slow back and forth of a gravitationnal pendulum detector rubbing along the polished nav bench. and it was in the hands of the woman who stood there, staring at the dark docking bay.
The woman had true black hair, sombre as shadow. Her eyes were dark and distant, and she moved with the subtle certainty that comes from knowing many things.
The Ship was hers, just as the third silence was hers. This was appropriate, as it was the greatest silence of the three, wrapping the other inside itself. It was deep and wide as universe expanding. It was heavy as a lead-rich asteroid. It was the patient, cut-flower sound of a woman who is waiting to die.”
Dashboard
Stats
No activity in the last 90d
Last seen Aug 2019
Intel Profile
PlaystyleSolo (0 kills)
Avg Fleet: -