Frustrated with my time in lowsec I had ratted up my sec status all shiny and law abiding. I remember writing at the time that I didn't really know why exactly I had decided to rat up my security status almost overnight and to then seek vacation in the sanctity of highsec. Perhaps the ever unfruitful beacon dance and acceleration gate chase with those who simply did not want to fight me had become too tiring. When all that was missing from my game time was the Yakety Sax theme tune from Benny Hill it was perhaps just the right time to recharge and take a step back.
But, alas, I lasted about three weeks before I was stood once again at the rusty old gates of lowsec begging for her to take me back, the bright lights of highsec blurry in the distance. Highsec just isn't me, but at times it does have a strange pull. Was it the dream of triggering aggression on a mission running treasure ship or something else? Whatever it was, I just. Didn't find it. Didn't really chase it.
In next to no time I was back to minus ten. The red flash was back and killing was fun again.
The last few weeks in lowsec I have noticed a remarkable sequence of events, a shift in pattern from the normality of lowsec life. The pond of lowsec, its waters murky and deep and usually riddled with disease, decay and the dead who have strayed too far, now seems to have cleaner waters and new fish swimming in it. Have recent changes to mining barges triggered a greater sense of adventure for the highsec crowd? Those who would previously turn around in fear once they arrived at the uninviting gates of lowsec now seem to be inclined to face their demons and trigger the rusty old gate with the skulls hanging over it.
Yesterday I spotted a Hulk and a Covetor sat at zero in a lowsec asteroid field, this together with numerous mining parties that I have seen and crashed in the last few weeks, sparking most of them to flee back to the gates admittedly, had aroused my lust for the brutal destruction of those that stray too far. The Hulk and Covetor were not so lucky this time and the asteroid belt was left bloody and wreck strewn.
Only a day before this, passing through a system that is usually dormant but for the odd plex runner I spot an Orca and a Mackinaw in the top belt, not something you see every day in lowsec. Warping in as a Talos arrives on scene I decide to warp out and into the next door system to formulate my plan. I switch my Atron out for a Jaguar and head back in for round two. When I arrive in the top belt again they are gone, but switching my scanner to the next belt I see the Mackinaw is there. As I land on the Mackinaw the Talos decloaks (!lol) and I begin to shoot all the drones that are stinging at my shields. As I am executing the Talos the Mackinaw eventually decides to leave the scene. My associate who had joined me in hunting this party reports that the Orca is 100k off of him but aligning, and alas he warps out of harms way. Joining me back in the belt he just misses point on the departing Mackinaw. The Talos dies and refuses our pod ransom.
What is going on? Why would a Mackinaw decide to mine in lowsec with Orca support and a Tr3 battlecruiser as defence?
Another strange incident. I am in a Drake in a remote lowsec system and I spot a handful of cruisers and frigates in a belt. I warp in, there is approximately twelve of them. I begin to point what I can as most of the frigates scatter. Some stick around and try to fight back but this is no raiding party and those that are still here I fully expect to slay. My killing spree is brought to a stop after one cruiser and a frigate kill when a local hero Falcon pilot decides to warp in and jam me. Looking at the mails it dawns on me that the frigates were shooting the battleship rat whilst the cruisers were providing them with remote reps. Talk about effort for little reward.
Is this the new face of lowsec and is the pond evolving? I can't help but wonder if this is just an odd few weeks in my calendar and soon enough the pollution will once again set in and the pond will begin to settle, and its blackness again turning stagnant, the dead bits floating to the top.