EVE Online – Baby Steps

‘Broadsword out’.  The comms had been quiet for a while but this statement hinted the operation was about to commence.  A rival Corp had been making a nuisance of itself in a nearby system and tonight’s plan was to, in EVE parlance, ‘push their shit in’;  we were going to flex our muscles, destroy their shiny, expensive ships and hopefully encourage them to move away for good.  This Broadsword undocking from the station, leaving the safety of its hanger, was a sign our trap may be about to spring – if it attacked the bait ships, our larger force hiding in the next system could jump in and escalate the fight, drawing out their valuable battleships.  If we could blow up a few of them it would soon be clear that living next to us just wasn’t profitable.

It’s been nearly two months since I took a deep breath and began a 14-day EVE Online trial, breaking a seven year no MMO streak in the process.  I was curious to see if an MMO-phobe like me could actually enjoy what is supposedly the most challenging and unforgiving online game around.  The sharper tacks among you have probably already noticed that I have, in fact, continued playing.

In my previous article I described the (very useful) career agents, NPCs that disseminate missions, teaching the basic skills and providing an early leg up in the form of a few ships and a few thousand ISK.  I wrote that I was enjoying the experience but the dramatic Corp on Corp battles which characterise EVE seemed a distant objective for low-level pilots like me.  This wasn’t the case.  If you find the right Corp, you can do pretty much anything you want; it’s ‘the key’ to EVE Online, as one CCP staffer recently told me.  I wanted the PvP drama and so I found a Corp that specialised in recruiting fresh-faced pilots and introducing them to the maelstrom of unsecured 0.0 space as quickly as possible.  The Corp is called RPS Holdings.

I’ve made liberal use of the words ‘our’ and ‘we’ in my first paragraph but in truth I was unlikely to be pushing anyone’s shit in personally.  It takes a few months to begin piloting the scary ships, the kind of ships I was orbiting in my tiny frigate as they waited, their ECM systems clouding the nearby space in which we sat.  A call came over the comms: ‘I’m just coming into Reb, I’ll need a scout in’.  A few reinforcements were inbound from another system to join the bulk of the fleet; these approaching pilots needed a fast scout to check their route for threats – a role I could perform.  ’Urm, OK – be there in a sec’ I volunteered, conscious that I’d be responsible for alerting a several hundred million ISK ship to any immediate danger.  I warped off to meet them at their entrance gate.

A note on gates: EVE Online’s universe comprises thousands of solar systems.  Each system has one or more jump gates which allow the players’ ships to travel or ‘jump’ between them; essentially a point at which the next system loads, to put it unromantically.  It can be dangerous travelling between these gates as there’s no way to see what lies ahead.  In ‘high sec’, 0.5 – 1.0 space, there are the CONCORD, AI ships of immense strength to ensure order and safe travel.  In 0.4 space and below there could be anything out there.

This is why it’s important to use scouts when travelling about, fast disposable ships that can warn fleetmates of danger or potential targets.  It’s this job that newbie pilots can perform adequately when it comes to PvP and RPSH kitted me out accordingly.  The veteran players in the Corp soon taught me the basics of PvP fleet operations, provided me with ships to use, a sensible skill training regime and instruction on how to ‘tackle’, the principle combat role for light, fast space craft.

The job of the tackler is to charge up to a target ship and hit it with a warp scrambler, a beam that jams the enemy ship and prevents it from escaping into warp, pinning it in place for the larger ships to take down.  As you’re a considerable threat but a soft target often ahead of the main fleet, tacklers tend to get blown up a lot.  Well, I get blown up a lot, but I remain philosophical; it’s important to learn to lose your ship in EVE.  My first few outings with RPSH, roaming (searching a few systems for enemies to shoot) in null sec, were unlike any other gaming experiences I have had.  Veterans will undoubtedly laugh, but I can only think it’s as close to a military exercise as I’m ever likely to get; commands are issued over comms by the fleet commander, info is relayed by the scout – when threats are close things get a little tense.  I messed up a lot at first but it doesn’t take long to get used to the various commands and what to do if things get sticky.  I’m considerably more practised now after only about ten major roams, I like to think anyway – I hope.

‘Right, give them a tickle.  See if they’ll bite’ says Eben, the fleet commander and RPSH’s glorious leader, instructing the bait ships to try and provoke the enemy Corp’s Broadsword into a fight.  The comms go quiet again.  I continue to orbit the behemoths that sit at the gate, awaiting the order to jump in and help out the baiters.  ‘They’ll be organising themselves’ someone says, optimistically.  More silence.  ‘Nope, nothing – he’s docked up’.   Then ‘OK, alright.  Fuck it, another time’ says Eben.  Not tonight; the ops off.  In this particular case, I wasn’t really in a position to do anything in my little ship but I was hoping for a dramatic story for this article at least.  That’s EVE though.  That’s why I like it.  You’re fighting real, crafty people who’ll do their damnedest to ram your shit in if they can possibly get away with it and avoid it happening to them at all costs.  The drama’s there but it’s unpredictable; there’s nothing instanced about it.

Soon I’ll be flying larger ships, I have my eye on a fearsome Brutix battlecruiser when I get a few more million in the bank.  I’m excited.  It’ll alter my role in the fleets and diversify the ways I can play the game.  I’ll probably write about it here if you’d care to pop back.