I never really got the story behind ‘kitchen sink’ fleets being fleets consisting of everything and anything. So I talked to my fleet about it one day, and well, one big idea was actually that, when packing up as much as you could to leave the home, you’d try to take everything except the kitchen sink. So in a kind of inverse way, a kitchen sink fleet therefore consists of “everything”.
I really liked that description. I was also taken aback. Because in my whole year and a half in EVE, I never asked for the true meaning of a kitchen sink, because I thought I knew it.
When I first heard it, I thought it was named so because a kitchen sink generally had all kinds of things in it. Pots to cutlery, vegetable peels to defrosting meat, etc. That made sense to me, at least. I enjoy making up stories to explain what I’m unsure of. It’s not a good idea sometimes though, because if I get away with the… Delusion… For too long, it becomes harder to accept reality.
Anyway, I don’t want to drop the tone of this post from soaring lightly under blue skies to dark stormy night hiding at home. There was a very eventful fleet yesterday, and I’ll I’m going to say was that it was more or less a kitchen sink where we killed around 1.5b worth of ships in the one system we were plexing, without losing anything significant.
It was a great opportunity to push our pilots to the limits, and there were lots of fights and things to learn from. Quite satisfied that everyone who fought with me yesterday came out more experienced.
Anyway, these posts about faction warfare fleets generally take dark turns as my mind returns to the question of how we can translate all momentum into war zone progress. So I’ll give this a break today and instead tell you a story of one of the funny occurrences to me in the war zone this past week.
You see, it all begins with the humble pod. Such a small, insignificant creature, yet it possesses to power to defy the primary calls of the most charismatic FC. No matter what is primary, if there is a pod on field, someone is going to ignore that primary to lock and shoot the damn pod.
Why? Because of the reasonably high chance that they are super easy, high-value kills with a those juicy implants.
Over the years, podslaying became an art, and one of its more crude forms manifested in a way we all know and love… Some less than others: smart bombing on stargates.
A few days ago, I was flying in a pod with the aforementioned juicy implants. Well, for me. It really was nothing too crazy, a couple of training implants.
I was in a pod because we had just lost a fight. We were warping to reship when suddenly I heard a call for smart bombs on a gate. I checked and cursed. It was the gate I was warping to.
Without hesitation, I grit my teeth, open my character sheet, and unplug my implants.
I land on gate and wait.
The smart bomber had warped off. All that was left on gate was the corpse of my comrade, almost taunting me.
The fleet that day wasn’t very successful but it ended on a high note when I told the guys that story.
It didn’t end there, though. Only yesterday, by the strange whims of destiny, I was to find myself in the exact same situation. This time I decided to try my luck.
Well, this time it was a different smart bomber, and as a war target he didn’t have to worry about gate gun aggression. He was definitely there when I landed.
The guy who was in both of those fleets was crying with laughter. I didn’t know what to feel; it was a sort of mixture between disgust, amusement and exasperation.