There was electicity in the air. I felt it in my ballsack. My pilots could feel it as well. There were going to be murders tonight.

I sent my scout out to reconnoiter the situation. It wasn’t long before he started giving us the situation: Vangaurd had a fleet in 0T-AMZ. I dropped my coffee cup. As it was shattering on the floor I was already grabbing my goo resistant pod suit out of the dirty clothes and running for the hanger.

I grabbed the bullhorn on my way out of the office and start screaming as I ran through the station corridors, “The faggots are out…I repeat…the FAGGOTS ARE OUT!”

I had forgot what night it was. It was 8-Ball Saturday. 8-ball Saturday was the day our weekly shipment of coke and whores made it to our station. Usually you can’t get the average BOZO out of their bunks on 8-ball Saturday, but they knew what “The faggots are out” meant. All my guys, coked up out of their minds, came running down the hall behind me, in various states of undress. They all had erections.

I might say at this point the phrase “the faggots are out” refers not only to Vanguard, but speaks to the fact that they don’t undock, and if they do, they will rarely leave their system. We recently had an altercation with them where they had lost a Rohk while playing fag docking games at their main station in 4C-B7X. After we had killed, looted and salvaged it, Vangaurd, in their glorious faggotry, undocked 4 carriers as we were warping off. They then called us cowards and redocked when we sent a scout back to the station.

Back to the story.

I ordered my pilots to initiate Plan: Stomp the Homo-Beta. For security reasons, I can’t go into more details other than we rolled out in some battleships. I gave the undock command, broadcasted destination and punched up the coordinates in my nav computer. The fleet was underway.

I then began to communicate with my forward scout.

“Big Wang One, this is Spry Goose…Big Wang One, this is Spry Goose, over”

“This is Big Wang One, go ahead Spry Goose,” I said.

“Big Wang One, standby for ship types….I’ve got TUNACAN times EIGHT, CORNCOB times FIVE,  SUPPORT times 6, with additional fourteen NATIVES in local…”

“Big Wang One clear,” I said. I was excited. They had brought a lame battleship/battlecruiser fleet out of their little system.  And most importantly, if we camped the OT-AMZ gate in TQ-RR8, they would be unable to go home without passing through us first.

It did occur to me that the Vanguard fleet was acting particularly brazen tonight. These are men who are usually afraid of their own shadow. Men who flinch if someone in the room coughs. Men who suck their thumbs during their homoerotic dreams at night. I knew they had capital support lurking in the distance.

We arrived on the gate, in plain sight of their cloaked scout and announced our presence by calling the scout’s mother a whore over the open civilian com channel. It was only later that I find out that his mother was in fact a whore and we were, in part at least, to blame for him cutting his wrists in a mommy-complex depression driven rage.

I received more intel from Spry Goose: the Vanguard fleet who had been camping the local rabble into one of the stations had warped to the other station in the system (a station that housed a crappy Gallentean retail chainstore…’Shop Smart! Shop GAL-MART!) and now sat within dock range.

With my fleet in position, all there was left to do was wait.  I ordered my men to berate the local Vanguard scout some while the command staff talked about our golf game (Prime-Sub Director Music apparently shot a 71 the other day, good job!). I also ordered my scout, Spry Goose, to purchase a ship scanner from Gal-Mart and figure out which of their ships had a cynosoral field generator fitted. It wasn’t long before we had the cyno ships tagged. There was a battlecruiser and a battlship, both with cyno fuel and generators fitted. I noted these in my combat computer.

We must have waited for a half hour. During that time, they made a few attempts to ’scare’ us off the gate by warping to it, waving their fists in the air and then warping back to Gal-Mart. It was much like a timid guy at a bar trying to get his balls up enough to go ask the whore at the bar for a hand job. They’d come close, then back off….come a little closer, then back off.

Finally, they mustard enough courage (they may have bought some from Gal-Mart) to jump into us. I referenced my combat computer and called our first two targets: A Myrmadon flown by a guy named ‘Foxer‘ and an Armageddon by the name of  ‘Lacktale‘. I was to find out later that Lacktale was their commander. He died like a bitch.

They attempted to fight. I noted on my tactical overview that one of my own Armageddon’s was taking a sliver of damage. Prime-Sub Director Music ordered repairs placed on the damaged battleship. There was really never any chance that the ship would actually be destroyed, but it’s good training for when we actually encounter a worthy foe.

My coke driven pilots maneuvered and fired as I called targets with cold blooded efficiency. My windshield was full of bright flashes, destroyed ships and the occasional corpse. The Vanguard fleet was in full retreat about 30 seconds into the fight.

I was alerted by our Co-Overlord Faggot Generalissimo, Queb, that he had successfully hacked into the Vanguards secure com channel. He patched me into the channel and all I could hear was cries of pain, intermittent static and someone screaming, “WHERE THE FUCK ARE THOSE CARRIERS AT!”

The ones who attempted to fight died, the cowards who didn’t were able to jump back into OT-AMZ. All in all, the enemy lost seven ships. Bozo lost zero.

Battle Summary (Please note, the earlier intel report from Spry Goose was correct, but the summary will only show the ships that died since none of BOZO died in the engagement)

After looting and salvaging the pathetic Vanguard wrecks, we returned to our station and had waffles.

This entry was posted on Monday, June 29th, 2009 at 04:29 and is filed under Battle Reports. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.