Our lives are defined by conflict: Union vs Confederacy; Santorum vs the Gays; Theta vs Sigma.
Most of these conflicts are known, by the cognoscenti, to pale in comparison with the aeon-old struggle between Bat Country and Amok. However, as reports came in of vicious and unprovoked IRC aggression against an xDeathx station in Oasa, we knew that we had to lay aside our historic differences. Shadow of xDeathx are tied to us by bonds of blood: it is
no exaggeration to say that they are the renters of a person who was once in an alliance that helped the alliance two before the one that we are all in, back in the middle of last decade. You cannot ignore that debt of honour, so the two faces of elite peeveepee set aside petty squabbles and the laws of vendetta, and set off under Bat Country's fourth-best small gang FC, Halosponge.
IRC were in their feared Alphafleet+Raven setup: many across Eve have attempted to copy this format - even Goonwaffe under Vee adopted it as our own after seeing the effectiveness of the IRC Spartans - but success has eluded us all. Unperturbed, and faced with 2:1 odds, the grim-faced warriors of Bat Country and Amok set off, swearing to return in their Drakes or on them. Nobody was under any illusion as to what they faced, but it is better to die in your drake than to live in your botting-tengu.
Things started well, with the summary execution of a vagabond and a drake, but it was hard for the far-smaller Batamok gang, outnumbered by two to one, to match the repping power of the hardened IRC warriors, and panic began to spread in the fleet as our Amok sabre, Chipaya, met a grisly end, trapped in his own bubble.
Halosponge, seeing the faltering will of his men, knew that he had to act rapidly or risk humiliation. "Sons of Amokdot! Of Bat Country! My brothers! I see in your eyes the same fear that would take the heart of me! A day may come when the courage of Goons fail, when we forsake our blues and break all bonds of Goonship. But it is not this day. An hour of Muninns and unrepped shields when the age of 3lit3 peeveepee comes crashing down! But it is not this day! This day we fight! By all that you hold dear in this Good Deklein - your ratting, your plexes and your tengu bots , I bid you
stand! Men of the North-West!"
The effect was electrifying. First a Tempest, then a Tornado exploded. More and more rapidly, explosions ringed our outnumbered Band of Broheims. With the deadly determination that all of Eve associates with IRC, they hurled themselves onto our guns, clearly intent on clogging our guns with the bodies of their slain. Or perhaps in the hope that we didn't bring much ammunition.
When all looked lost, almost inexplicably, the IRC fleet warped out. What fresh trickery was this? They had lost less than a quarter of their fleet and had claimed our dictor in return: we would have difficulty sustaining these rates of loss if the fight were to continue another six or seven hours. Sure enough, they warped in, fury in their eyes, and claimed five more ships for less than twenty losses, including our other two sabres. The remaining few Goons prepared to sell their lives dearly when, inexplicably, IRC fled, having lost less than 40 ships.
The battle won, the station (extremely temporarily) saved and returned to the safety of the three xDeathx members who had formed up for its defence, Batamok exchanged high-fives and headed for home. As a bonus, xDeathx sent us a substantial payment for our mercenary services which will be slpit amongst the widows of our lost members.
+30 million ISK payment from xDeathx
+0 tech
http://www.eve-kill.net/?a=kill_related&kll_id=12700768
P.S. Amok hate our euro accents and begged Rydis not to make them do this again.
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