Denis MacCumber

MinmatarVherokiorKillboard

Corporation[BABAC] BaBadooK Inc.

Alliance[MYND] Myndbender Labs Alliance

Created on: …
Next Birthday: …
Last Active: …
Security Status: 5.00

Combat Record

Career-long numbers from eve-kill

Combat

Kills: 407
Losses: 438
Efficiency: 48%

Danger Ratio: 87%

ISK

Destroyed: 121.76B
Lost: 24.52B
ISK Efficiency: 83%

Balance: +97.23B

Solo

Solo Kills: 116
Solo Ratio: 29%
Final Blows: 172
Points: 489

Other

NPC Losses: 55
NPC Loss Ratio: 13%
Avg Kills/Day: —
Activity: Medium

Damage

Damage Dealt20.6M

Damage Taken4.0M

Damage Ratio84%

Combat profile

How they fight, with whom and against whom — last 90 days

Activity

What they fly and where they fight

ShipsThis week

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SystemsThis week

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Most Valuable

Matchups

Who they kill, who kills them, what they lose

Top ListsLast 90 days

Hulls Lost

Losses broken down by hull class.

Career

Corporations flown for, most recent first

In-game bio

≡√≡ Online

The stars had always called to Denis MacCumber. As a child, he would press his face against the viewport of his family's habitat on Astoh, straining to see beyond it's vast shadow into the deeper darkness where distant suns beckoned. Now, at thirty-eight, he pilots the interstellar transport vessel Ganja across the void between systems, carrying essential medical marijuana supplies that no automated ship can be trusted to deliver.
Denis wasn't supposed to be alone. The Ganja was designed for a crew of five, but budget cuts and the growing reliability of AI systems had whittled away the human presence until only a single pilot remained—a reluctant concession to regulations requiring human oversight for critical cargo.
In his quarters, Denis keeps a small terrarium of earth plants—his only living companions. He talks to them sometimes, explaining the stellar phenomena they pass, describing the silent ballet of distant nebulae that paint the blackness with impossible colors. The plants never answer, but he imagines they appreciate the carbon dioxide of his words.
Each night cycle, Denis records his mandatory log entry, his voice echoing in the empty command center: "Day 847. All systems nominal." Then, after a pause: "Still here." What he doesn't record is how he presses his hand against the observation dome, feeling the cold that separates him from the vacuum, wondering what it would be like to touch a star.
He had dreamed of space since childhood, but not like this—not in endless isolation, ferrying cargo between worlds he never truly visits. Yet someone must make these journeys. Someone must ensure the colonies receive their lifelines. And so Denis continues, a reluctant guardian of the spaces between worlds, secretly hoping that somewhere in the vast emptiness, he might find something—or someone—that makes the journey worth more than its destination.

"They will retaliate. We must be prepared."

"Non-essential personnel, abandon ship."

Michael Kiwanuka - Cold Little Heart
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nOubjLM9Cbc&list=RDnOubjLM9Cbc&start_radio=1&ab_channel=MichaelKiwanukaVEVO