Combat Record
Career-long numbers from eve-kill
Combat
- Kills
- 3
- Losses
- 35
- Danger Ratio
- 100%
- Final Blows
- 3
- Points
- 3
ISK
- Destroyed
- 19K
- Lost
- 5.44B
- Balance
- -5.44B
- ISK Efficiency
- 0%
Solo
- Solo Kills
- 2
- Solo Ratio
- 67%
- Avg Kills/Day
- —
Other
- NPC Losses
- 0
- NPC Loss Ratio
- 0%
- Activity
- Inactive
Activity
What the corporation flies, where it fights, 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.
Battles
Engagements in the selected window, from our own killmail archive
Description
Silent is the night on which we are born,
clueless of the future that has been predicted for us.
Perfect is the world in which we remain hidden from our father's eyes,
without the necessity to open our wings and fly.
He, mighty Cronus, holds our future in his hands.
Our destiny, threatened by his metal teeth, shrivels as it hears him approach.
Green mother taught us how to gather up our things and prepare to fight,
but his eye reaches farther than the horizon and that we can't escape.
Pidgeons, needing to grow and someday replace father
are getting devoured by his greed and uncertainty.
He does, because he can;
We hardly fly, because he eats our wings fist.
After he eats our wings, he eats our legs and slowly eats the rest;
we can only watch, as all that we were meant to be vanishes before our very eyes.
clueless of the future that has been predicted for us.
Perfect is the world in which we remain hidden from our father's eyes,
without the necessity to open our wings and fly.
He, mighty Cronus, holds our future in his hands.
Our destiny, threatened by his metal teeth, shrivels as it hears him approach.
Green mother taught us how to gather up our things and prepare to fight,
but his eye reaches farther than the horizon and that we can't escape.
Pidgeons, needing to grow and someday replace father
are getting devoured by his greed and uncertainty.
He does, because he can;
We hardly fly, because he eats our wings fist.
After he eats our wings, he eats our legs and slowly eats the rest;
we can only watch, as all that we were meant to be vanishes before our very eyes.