- Kills
- 3
- +0 in the last 90 days
- Losses
- 14
- +0 in the last 90 days
- Efficiency
- ISK Efficiency 36%
- ISK destroyed
- 789.3M
- +0 in the last 90 days
- Activity
- Inactive
- 0 kills/day · last 90 days
Combat Record
Career-long numbers from eve-kill
Combat
- Kills
- 3
- Losses
- 14
- Danger Ratio
- 100%
- Final Blows
- 0
- Points
- 3
ISK
- Destroyed
- 789.3M
- Lost
- 1.42B
- Balance
- -631.3M
- ISK Efficiency
- 36%
Solo
- Solo Kills
- 0
- Solo Ratio
- 0%
- Avg Kills/Day
- —
Other
- NPC Losses
- 0
- NPC Loss Ratio
- 0%
- Activity
- Inactive
Damage Dealt2.2K
Damage Ratio · 1%
Damage Taken169.9K
Activity
What they fly, where they fight, latest kills and losses
Most Valuable
The priciest kills in the window
Matchups
Who they kill, who kills them, what they lose
Last 90d
Killed
Killed By
Hulls LostLosses broken down by hull class.
In-game bio
Let the sun beat down upon my face, stars to fill my dream.
I am a traveler of both time and space, to be where I have been.
To sit with elders of the gentle race, this world has seldom seen.
They talk of days for which they sit and wait and all will be revealed.
Talk and song from tongues of lilting grace, whose sounds caress my ear.
But not a word I heard could I relate, the story was quite clear.
All I see turns to brown, as the sun burns the ground
And my eyes fill with sand, as I scan this wasted land
Trying to find, trying to find where I've been.
Pilot of the storm who leaves no trace, like thoughts inside a dream
Heed the path that led me to that place, yellow desert stream
My Shangri-La beneath the summer moon, I will return again
Sure as the dust that floats high in June, when movin' through Kashmir.
Father of the four winds, fill my sails, across the sea of years
With no provision but an open face, along the straits of fear.
I am a traveler of both time and space, to be where I have been.
To sit with elders of the gentle race, this world has seldom seen.
They talk of days for which they sit and wait and all will be revealed.
Talk and song from tongues of lilting grace, whose sounds caress my ear.
But not a word I heard could I relate, the story was quite clear.
All I see turns to brown, as the sun burns the ground
And my eyes fill with sand, as I scan this wasted land
Trying to find, trying to find where I've been.
Pilot of the storm who leaves no trace, like thoughts inside a dream
Heed the path that led me to that place, yellow desert stream
My Shangri-La beneath the summer moon, I will return again
Sure as the dust that floats high in June, when movin' through Kashmir.
Father of the four winds, fill my sails, across the sea of years
With no provision but an open face, along the straits of fear.