Mr. Bubble

UNDISCLOSED 0.0 SYSTEM

It almost reminded me of my days in recon; sitting for hours in a Rapier, enjoying the isolation and peacefulness of space. There had been times it almost teetered over the edge to boredom, but right when you found yourself drifting off into woeful ignorance, action would inevitably occur, sending adrenaline coursing through your veins, alerting your senses and driving you into full wakefulness.

Such was this day, in a new experiment I had decided to try. The process itself wasn’t new; it was simply new to me. I had been learning about anchoring, warp bubbles, etc, etc, and decided I needed some field experience over theory.

In a move towards being a more aggressive pilot, I had fit a fully offensive Rifter, loaded a small warp bubble into the hold, and headed for nullsec.

Deploying the bubble at a strategic position between the only two gates in the system wasn’t difficult. Determining an optimal range wherein I could prevent my prey from getting to the gate when caught, while allowing me ample opportunity to retreat if needed was a more delicate decision.

Finally, with the decisions made, the bubble deployed, and all systems on my Rifter set to standby, I settled in to see what I could snare in my little trap.

For the first hour I could hardly look away I was so excited about springing my trap; I envisioned snagging a Punisher, or an Omen if I was lucky and it wasn’t Navy Issue. I knew that with an overheated alpha strike and a surge of acceleration, I could potentially destroy my enemy before they had a chance to implement defensive tactics. I just had to wait.

Three hours later, I was beginning to think the war against the Amarr was elsewhere in the universe, and pulled up my galactic map, having Aura filter for most recent wrecks and pod kills. I knew how Murphy’s Law worked, and fully expected  that the moment I began looking at my map was when the enemy would appear, and I would be caught offguard.

It didn’t happen, and I spent another forty minutes waiting with ever growing impatience, ready to call it quits, when the trap was sprung!

An Archon with a half squad of supporting Abaddons, Armageddons and Apocalypses were viciously yanked out of warp. Lovely.

I did the only practical thing a heroic Matar Colonel could do in such a situation: I ran like hell. Before the thought was even fully formed Aura had overheated the afterburner and I was straightlining for the gate thirty kilometers away.

By the time I hit twenty kilometers, I was targeted by the enemy, now the predator, with me the fleeing prey.

A dozen Templar drones quickly crossed the void, their engines screaming as they bore down on me. I pushed forward, willing my ship faster, knowing the gate was my only chance of surviving this encounter.

I didn’t make it.

My Rifter exploded, a shower of sparks and metal twisting uncontrollably through space. Aura took control of my pod, warping us away to a nearby moon while I regained my bearings.

I docked at a nearby station and purchased a shuttle, then proceeded back to Dal. Was I ashamed? No. I had learned something valuable, and that was always a good thing.

Would I try this again? Hells yes. I was positive it was a worthwhile technique and I would be fitting up another Rifter quickly and heading back out to nullsec.