I've lived in a wormhole for the better part of the last year or more after coming back from a long break. I was brought back because of wormholes - because I was told that it was PVP that ranged from small gang to fleet fights, and that wormholers had one, sacred, Sworn-Unto-Bob, code.

You always fight. Space bushido, yo.

In the last year I've been dropped on by some many people - some because they got lucky, some because I was doing some amazingly dumb. Blood Union. Hard Knocks. Last Chance. Boris Johnson, and on and on and on.

So imagine my surprise when, at the head of a 30 man t3 fleet as we're diving into wormholes, that my scouts report back some sign of Last Chance.

Me and my fleet parked ourselves on the doorstep of their C6. We might as well have been standing in the shadow of Mount-Freaking-Doom. My scout reports that there is an archon, two guardians, and a whole batch of t3's and nuet geddons on their side of the wormhole.

I looked to my alliance and asked our tradition question - "Do you want to die tonight?" to when Ocularis Inferno, the land of "We give no fucks" all agreed. I look to EOL who was running with us and ask them to same - to their credit, the field where they grow their fucks is also barren.

So we jump into Last Chance's Cap Fleet and put their carrier into half armor before he goes triage and we jump back out. We've followed the Code of Bob. Surely, they will jump and engage us here - our logi to their logi, our t3's to theirs.

Seconds turned into minutes. Nothing. Suddeny! An activation! They've decided to honor the Code of Bob!

No, wait. That's their archon combat rolling their wormhole.

Yes, kids. My fleet went home with balls of blue because Last Chance didn't want to come out and play.

Lame. Just... lame. That could've been a really cool fight.

JR