We've taken about five days, in total, moving out of the old system and moving into the new one, and our neighbors in the system have been unfailingly helpful and continue to invite us along on ops, but we've declined up to this point because none of us could really relax and enjoy ourselves until we know everything is running properly; that the move is complete.
But that's all done. Now is the time on Sprockets when we Dance (on the corpses of our fallen enemies).
Our timing is good, since we're heading into a long weekend, and in fact Gor and Wil are both already on when I log in, and have just finished beating up a couple sleeper sites in the home system with Cabbage, the hermit who first colonized the wormhole back at the dawn of time when men still rode through space on the backs of dinosaurs.
"He seems nice," reports Gor. "Bit bloodthirsty; mentioned there were some soft targets in the next system that needed killing."
I do a bit of scouting, and I see what Cab was talking about -- the system is incredibly overgrown and virtually untouched -- a real Sleeper haven. Unfortunately, I see a note from our home system roommates that the inhabitants of the system are old allies, and we've been asked to leave everything in the system as-is. With no sleepers to shoot and no soft target players to hunt, I can kind of understand why Cab logged out.
My activities are similarly constrained, and I decide to burn up the evening by running for a few supplies from known empire space, but every time I fly back through the largely unoccupied system, I get more and more annoyed.
"This is irritating," I tell Shan (another member of the "Roommate Corp"). "I'm going to collapse this connection and find something we *can* shoot."
The collapse takes little time, and I actually take down an inbound wormhole coming in from another useless system at the same time, bouncing back and forth between the two 'holes to stay busy. Twenty minutes later, the in-bound hole is gone, the outbound hole is gone, and Shan is scanning our new connection. Once he has it, I hop through to have a bit of shufti.
Much better. The system is quiet, the corporation already set up here looks relatively harmless (and in any case, there's no one online), and there's more than enough sleeper activity to keep us busy. We muster up in pointy ships, and Shan is more than happy to come along in his Hurricane-class battlecruiser -- his only option when no one else is on is mining, as he's apparently a new enough pilot that soloing sleeper sites just isn't possible for him at this point.
The hour is late, so we only clear a few sites, but it's far better than staring at a bunch of stuff we can't shoot in an allegedly allied system.
A commenter on Reddit mentioned that he was having trouble keeping track of everyone who shows up in my tales of daring internet spaceshippery.
All these names keeping getting said, but I can't keep track. How many actual people are in this wormhole, and which character names do they control?
For security reasons (people who want to be limited-internet-famous by blowing up and/or scamming an EVE-blogger), I don't go into a lot of detail about the specifics of our group. This isn't really about protecting me, because... well, whatever; but I would feel bad if someone caused my corpmates any serious stress because of these posts. SO: all character names have been changed, abbreviated, or aliases used; I don't talk about which characters are run by which players, how many actual players there are, who multiboxes and who doesn't, or the name of the corporation; nor do I link to information that reveals such things. In fact, I actually go out of my way to be somewhat misleading about these things, implying that someone is an alt when they aren't, or vice versa -- the only thing I don't do is change who was involved in a particular event.
It's just basic security. (Ironically, more anti-internet security than I erect around me or my own family. C'est la Eve.)