Lets go to 0.0! After such a successful trip the last time we had gone, people who don't usually go along clamored to join fleet.
As a typical female, I couldn't decide what to wear for the occasion, trying on my grifflin, then switching to my Fleet Stabber, and then again to a nano drake.
"Does this drake make me look too fat?" (IE: as a pirate, can I get this stupid thing through the two jumps of highsec I need to cross in order to get over to KBP?)
"So long as it's a nano drake, you're good to go, Su."
We impatiently strung our ships around gate, bumping into each other, and taking pop shots at each other-- like a band of merry warriors trying to hold back their horses from the impending hunt--waiting for just one word from the commander that would have us all gallopping through highsec, avoiding the grasp of the faction police.
"Let's go!" Bahamut420 declared triumphantly, and chaos ensued as we all jumped through the gate. We piled into Choonka, our evil deeds being blared to all nearby as we careened through the system. A neutral sat on the gate in his shuttle, watching like a startled hare--another flitted quickly away like a fox disappearing in the underbrush.
We moved quickly, hoping to pounce on another band similar to ours that had been reported nearby. The sun of dital glinted off the cold metal of our weapons and steel armor, and our engine trails ribboned behind us like the unfurling of a champion's banner.
As we jumped into KBP, weapons hot with burning ferver, we blindly sliced into the enemies on the other side. The air was thick with both the hoarse cries of impending victory and the taught strum of a hundred buzzing drones.
Not until it was too late did we notice them. They arrived nonchalantly, their carefully constructed pack webbing us in on all sides.
It was a trap.
We were outnumbered at least four to one, and they were ready for us. Like a battalion of well trained, well armed soldiers they bore down on us in grim determination, knowing they had successfully captured their prey.
Bahamut420 muttered curses, and our shouts of victory turned into cries to flee.
Flee for your life!
We scattered, some trying to break through their ranks, yet others fleeing back the way we had come and disappearing through the gate. Some were caught--but slipped through enemy hands on foot, their bare pod going where their ship could not.
I see an opening and run into hiding--bruised, bleeding, and my drake nearly torn to shreds, but still alive and mostly intact. Every few minutes I run to another hiding spot, afraid that the clumsy probing eyes of their search hounds will find me. I see them, their lusty throats braying nearby, sometimes perfectly visible on my ship's scanner.
One by one, all make it home except I. After several attempts to make it past the leering malediction on the other side of the gate -- anxiously waiting to snag me down and hold me for the none too gentle touch of the faction police, I curl up and wait.
And only within the post-downtime dawn do I slip home unnoticed in the dark.