Sometimes the most enjoyable kills are the ones you don't get.
I found my way in to a C1 via our static C2. There's a shitload of POS's on scan, a whole lot of small towers. one force field, and a Prophecy. I check wormnav; ratting regularly every couple of hours for the past week. Seems that they are active, so I d-scan the POS down.
The POS is defenceless. Just a stick and a bubble, an SMA, a CHA and the Prophecy, which is piloted. It's a Tribal band corporation, and my corp has a low opinion of nullbears in wormholes, especially Tribal band guys. The pilot is a 2005 toon, so it's odd to see him in a Prophecy, but his corp history suggests a long absence from game in 2007. So perhaps a bit of a nullbear, maybe a bit noobish, maybe not 130M skillpoints.
I watch him for a minute. Then the usual plan in this situation kicks in.
Faced with a pilot in a ship in a POS with no guns, what do you do? You shoot it.
We shoot it.
Then our bait pilot in the Ruppy notices a corpse on scan, inside the POS shield. I suggest that said corpse is owned by a dude who suicide podded himself back to hisec and is enroute back to this wormhole to drop off another ship.
The bait pilot convos him. Claims that he's stuck, and hey, can i get a bookmark out?
The guy appears soon after in an Itty V; he even says he's been convoed by his higher ups out in dullsec, who've been landing mails from this wormhole since the POS is under attack. This gives us chuckles.
We swiftly get our man to drop fleet (which consists, to whit, of a Rapier, 2 Proteus, a Sabre and said Rupture) in case Dude tries a fleet invite on him. Our Man has a cheap clone in case Dude is laying a tarp. This is Tribal Band, if I were them i'd be hot-footing a gang toward the wormhole to get some peu-peu ASAP. Shit could get messy - we hope.
Dude and Our Man strike up a conversation about how Our Man is a bit of a nub (2005 toon, but hey, Dude's mate in the Prophecy? it is known, Kaleesi) and let his probes expire. Now he needs out and wasn't trying to start anything with this attack on a POS. i mean, one Rupture vs a POS? Not happening.
The conversation turns to ISK. Our Man says 25; the Dude demands 40. Our man refuses. Dude insists. Our man says fuck this, starts self destruct. Dude drops his demands to 35. Our Man raises it to 30. Dude accepts.
We confer quickly; I say you have to demand a BM at planet 5, it's the closest planet to to our hole. It will give our Sabre the best chance of warping onto him and bubbling him up. Our Man agrees, and we all murmur assent (while chuckling), and we slide the demands over.
Dude stores his Itty V and warps out to the wormhole (which we haven't scanned, for once). I decide to pull the triggger and we shunt the Sabre in just off the POS....at the wrong angle. Curses.
Dude warps back to POS and misses getting caught in the bubble by a gnat's nadger. Curses!
High and mighty protestations of innocence by Our Man do not convince Dude that the interdiction sphere half eclipsing the small tower is anything to do with us. Pleas fall on deaf ears, so we bid adieu and fade back into the night.
Honestly? This sort of game is one which is the bread and butter of MMO's. The ganking, the killboards, it all falls away behind a good stalking, a good bit of mental chess, subterfuge and deception and blatant, balls-out trolling.