- Founded on
- …
- Members
- 2
- Tax rate
- 50%
- War eligible
- No
- Website
- http://
Combat Record
Career-long numbers from eve-kill
Combat
- Kills
- 2,366
- Losses
- 2,849
- Efficiency
- 45%
- Danger Ratio
- 94%
ISK
- Destroyed
- 678.57B
- Lost
- 563.97B
- ISK Efficiency
- 55%
- Balance
- +114.60B
Solo
- Solo Kills
- 518
- Solo Ratio
- 22%
- Final Blows
- 1,078
- Points
- 2,366
Other
- NPC Losses
- 184
- NPC Loss Ratio
- 6%
- Avg Kills/Day
- —
- Activity
- Inactive
Activity
What the corporation flies and where it fights
Most Valuable
Matchups
Who they kill, who kills them, what they lose
Top ListsLast 90d
Hulls LostLast 90d
Losses broken down by hull class.
Battles
Engagements in the selected window, from our own killmail archive
Alliance history
Corporations flown for, most recent first
Since Saturday, 8 October 2022
T U A R E GSince Saturday, 6 August 2016
Off The Reservation.Since Tuesday, 10 November 2015
Gentlemen's.ClubSince Sunday, 1 November 2015
Gentlemen's.ParlorSince Sunday, 3 May 2015
The Order of New EdenSince Monday, 6 April 2015
Northern Associates.Since Wednesday, 4 February 2015
Description
For all its material advantages, the sedentary life has left us edgy, unfulfilled. Even after 400 generations in villages and cities, we haven't forgotten.
The open road still softly calls, like a nearly forgotten song of childhood.
We invest far-off places with a certain romance. This appeal, I suspect, has been meticulously crafted by natural selection as an essential element in our survival.
Long summers, mild winters, rich harvests, plentiful game — none of them lasts forever. It is beyond our powers to predict the future.
Catastrophic events have a way of sneaking up on us, of catching us unaware. Your own life, or your band's, or even your species' might be owed to a restless few—drawn, by a craving they can hardly articulate or understand, to undiscovered lands and new worlds.
Herman Melville, in Moby Dick, spoke for wanderers in all epochs and meridians:
"I am tormented with an everlasting itch for things remote. I love to sail forbidden seas..."
Pale Blue Dot, Carl Sagan
The open road still softly calls, like a nearly forgotten song of childhood.
We invest far-off places with a certain romance. This appeal, I suspect, has been meticulously crafted by natural selection as an essential element in our survival.
Long summers, mild winters, rich harvests, plentiful game — none of them lasts forever. It is beyond our powers to predict the future.
Catastrophic events have a way of sneaking up on us, of catching us unaware. Your own life, or your band's, or even your species' might be owed to a restless few—drawn, by a craving they can hardly articulate or understand, to undiscovered lands and new worlds.
Herman Melville, in Moby Dick, spoke for wanderers in all epochs and meridians:
"I am tormented with an everlasting itch for things remote. I love to sail forbidden seas..."
Pale Blue Dot, Carl Sagan