As per usual, the clients of Surely You’re Joking, were under assault from a star fleet looking to evict them from their Wormhole. In quite unusual fashion, they hired us three hours before their tower was set to exit Reinforce… Now under normal circumstances we would ignore their cries of desperation because the logistics of moving our fleet out of our home system, traveling through known space and finding a way into their sieged system, gathering sufficient intel to ensure victory and then taking the field, requires significantly more than three hours notice to accomplish… but despite our attempts to convince him otherwise, the Glorious Leader was insistant that we were going to make this happen.
We started rolling our static connection to find a way out. Initially with so little time to travel, and with the clients having no way for us to get into their hole, our plan was to roll our static C6 until we found a C6 static 5, and then roll that 5 in hopes of K162’ing into the Target Wormhole. In case you are wondering, the statistical probability of success is rather close to zero, but we had no choice. After about thirty minutes the clients located a High Security exit, through their static C3 and delivered us our entrance point… 49 jumps from our current K-Space exit… and only one hour remaining on their tower clock.
With time ticking away, our very shiny fleet burned through a dozen Low Security systems to get into High Sec and make our way across the galaxy in hopes of entering before the enemies destroy the tower, decimate the capital fleet floating in the shields and force our clients from their home….
We entered the C3 that leads to the Target Hole just as the tower is destroyed and the shields drop. Has Surely You’re Joking finally failed to complete a merc contract?
I jumped into the wormhole first in my trusty bait drake, Nymeria, and started shooting their Warp Disruption bubble in hopes that they would warp to kill me, get trapped in their own bubble and then get shredded by our fleet lurking just on the other side. They recognized my Alliance tag however, and wisely chose instead to flee to their small tower, knowing that even though they outnumbered us 2 to 1, and had 3 Dreadnought Capital Ships in system, they were no match for our deadly efficiency.
Only one problem for them… one of their Moros pilots was stuck in Siege at the wasteland of the former tower, so we warped the fleet in and engaged, hoping for either a Capital killmail, to lure their fleet to engage us, or well… both! The Moros never stood a chance… and chose cowardice over dying like a man.
Our fleet had a bubble of our own, and caught his pod before the coward could flee the field of battle…. This is what Killmail Whoring looks like:
After dealing with the Moros, we secured the system, while Pell began negotiations with the enemy invaders. They wanted the system, but realized that while taking it from our clients was one level of difficulty, holding it with [HAHA] in the game, was another level they were neither equipped to handle, nor prepared to engage, so they accepted Pell’s offer to abandon the system with only the loss of their pride and their Moros as the badges of their shame.
Our clients stood amazed as we swooped in at the last-minute and rescued them with elite precision and a casual nonchalance about engaging outnumbered and out-classed with regards to ships, and WINNING! While they did lose a tower, and a few tower modules, we saved their Capitals, fleet, the tower loot and their system. We proposed our standard fee for services, and they paid in a blink of an eye, and given the emergency nature of the deal, and their gratitude, they doubled the payment unsolicited to express their gratitude.
Just another day in the life of the top mercenary gang in Wormhole space.