Life in a Wormhole: Like a Weekend Camp-out #eveonline

In our early days of wormhole living, CB drew a comparison between that activity and weekend camping trips where you head out to some campground all of an hour from the nearest gas station.

"You're technically out there on your own," he explained, "except for the part where someone's driving out to pick up more beer and ice after breakfast every morning."

It's been a long time since we've had any weeks like that -- I'm much more likely to leave our system through a wormhole leading to more unknown space than I am to head to a market, and even when I open the connection to low-sec, I'm usually more in the mood to shoot someone than run out for more beer -- but with the holiday downtime coming and some new pilots in the wormhole, I find myself planning yet another trip into known space, even though we were just there.

But first, I and Bre hit a few sites in the neighboring class two system, if only to give me something to carry on my way out as well as back in; I know more than a few truckers in real life, and the idea of 'deadheading' for part of the trip makes the whole thing seem like a waste. As it is, I'm able to sell off the spoils of some gas harvesting, as well as the loot from a couple radar signature sleeper sites, a few anomalies, and some gear we no longer use in the home system.

That done, I take the change jingling in my pocket and poke through the local markets. Moondog's got appropriate ships for shooting things in the home system, but his mining/hauling alt is (sadly, I guess: I don't mine) short a mining ship, and we've been nowhere near our home systems to go and pick it up, so I grab something appropriate and toss the parts in the hold to take back in as a holiday gift.

Also, there's the matter of these two Talos battlecruisers that Gor built for CB and myself -- we have everything we need to fit them in the home system, with the rather glaring exception of appropriately-sized guns (though only battlecruiser hulls, these glass-cannon ships sport battlship-sized hybrid weaponry, which neither CB or I make much use of, generally), so I hop over a few more systems and pick up 16 heavy neutron blasters and enough ammo to fire them for the 20 or 30 seconds the ship is likely to survive, then head home through a deceptively benign-looking section of low-sec.

Once it's all said and done, I'm glad to be back home, where it's safely uncivilized.