The Truth Hurts

      So it would seem that the slander of my colleagues John & Lucas stirred the pot a little (in the funny kind of way) and also marked me with quite the stigma today as my usual neutral luck took a turn towards FUCK YOU SPECTRE ╭∩╮(◣_◢)╭∩╮. As I sat down on my old cloth couch blotched with spots of food and the overtone of spilled beer (I had to sell the nice leather one due to the fact I lost about 320mil on the day), and cracked open a PBR, yea I sold the brandy too, and reminisced on the day full of shortcomings.
     The downward spiral started when another colleague of mine, Nostradamouse Riralle, proposed that we go clear out some sleeper infestations in a worm hole he scanned down not far from station. Normally I would stay away from such endeavors because it entitles me to fly something that doesn't cloak........ which speaks against most of my philosophy; decloak scare the shit out of the poor bastard, close my eyes and laugh maniacally, mercilessly rain torps on him for about 45 seconds, open my eyes and if he isn't dead or quickly dying, GTFO. However my lapses in judgement seem to have been never ending today. So we jumped in to the worm hole and began clearing out the sleepers and salvaging the wrecks. About 3 sites in we got a few blips on the system scanners. 2 Thrasher class destroyers, a Hound bomber, and a Tornado battle-cruiser were quickly approaching our position. Knowing there wasn't much chance of me escaping I locked up the first thing that landed which happened to be one of the thrashers, I began slamming Heavy Missiles into but to no avail. I gritted my teeth and cursed as I kicked myself for have being lulled into a very false sense of security that accompanies all acts of fuzzy beariness.
      It wasn't long before my bear fit Drake collapsed from the repeated attacks of my assailants. As my ship exploded into space dust as all ships of it's carebearing nature deserve to do, I was forced to leave the field and re-ship. I took this moment to size up my opponents. The Tornado pilot Quake590 was an older man of medium build. He obviously went a little heavy on the hair gel and had a sense of classics as he reminded me of an uglier version of Harrison Ford. Manu Militari was the only other character who actually left some kind of impression on me. A younger man, he looked like he had obviously gone through several nights of excessive drinking due to the horrendous tattoos all over his face, due to this I could judge Quake was the brains as neither of the other two seemed able to come to the most basic of conclusions.
     After a little bit of lip in local the fight migrated back home to Adirain where my misfortunes came to a head. I decided to undock the Rohk, because I thought to myself, what good are nice things if I cant play with them. It soon became very clear to me why I can't have nice things. As I landed to support my foolhardy friend he exploded in a spectacular fashion mixed with flames, shrapnel, and many words that I can't repeat. So I did my best to avenge my fallen (for about the 5th or so time) friend. However my zeal was soon met by the very uncomfortable feeling of having to activate shield boosters. It wasn't long before my ship was into structure and crumbling due to excessive fire from the the ships. After a few more trial and errors and one Stabber less, I decided to call it quits and call for back up. Soon enough friends arrived and I got some much deserved payback. I hopped in my Jaguar and headed for one of the Thrashers, I locked him up and started hitting him hard. The frigate I was piloting was much faster and more agile than the tornado that was trying to send me back to the station in a pod, so I was able to avoid much of his fire as I weaved in and out of range melting his friend. After several volleys the Thrasher began to spin out of control and vanished into a ball of orange flame. The Tornado came next, but by the time I switched targets he was already in deep armor. The ship started to unravel and come undone at its seams and joined its counterparts shortly after in another large ball of flame.
    Although a small consolation at the loss of my ships, I did learn a powerful lesson, bigger isn't better in any way shape or form. I had gotten more kills in  frigate in a few minutes than I had with any other ship all day. I can guarantee that I won't be trying anymore Battleship shenanigans for a while. The truth hurts, I thought to myself as I finished my beer which simply couldn't wash away the bad taste that had lingered in my mouth since the conclusion of the battle. However there's always another chance, and some mistakes can be corrected. With a nice padding of insurance money I punched up the console and put in a few orders for some new assault frigates.