- Founded on
- …
- Members
- 9
- Tax rate
- 8%
- War eligible
- No
- Website
- http://
Combat Record
Career-long numbers from eve-kill
Combat
- Kills
- 82
- Losses
- 67
- Efficiency
- 55%
- Danger Ratio
- 60%
ISK
- Destroyed
- 7.97B
- Lost
- 3.69B
- ISK Efficiency
- 68%
- Balance
- +4.28B
Solo
- Solo Kills
- 53
- Solo Ratio
- 65%
- Final Blows
- 79
- Points
- 166
Other
- NPC Losses
- 27
- NPC Loss Ratio
- 40%
- Avg Kills/Day
- —
- Activity
- Medium
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
Description
When Seyllin I burned, the Cluster felt the shockwaves—but for those living in the outer constellations, the aftermath was far more than a headline. The explosion tore through trade routes, fractured local industries, and left behind a graveyard of shattered ships, abandoned stations, and desperate colonists trying to flee a system collapsing into panic.
Not everyone ran.
A handful of technicians, mechanics, and independent contractors stayed behind—some out of loyalty, most out of opportunity. In the chaotic months that followed the Seyllin Incident, these scavengers made their living venturing into the unstable debris fields that CONCORD either ignored or outright marked as too hazardous. They hauled out anything that wasn’t glowing, screaming, or melting—a mixture of ship parts, corrupted datacores, broken mining equipment, and whatever personal effects could be dragged out of a wreck before it vaporized.
It didn’t take long before they realized they were good at this. Better than the sanctioned recovery teams. Faster. More willing to go where others wouldn’t. And far less concerned with questions of “ownership.”
These early crews banded together under a name spoken half as a joke, half as a warning:
Seyllin Salvage & Recovery.
Not everyone ran.
A handful of technicians, mechanics, and independent contractors stayed behind—some out of loyalty, most out of opportunity. In the chaotic months that followed the Seyllin Incident, these scavengers made their living venturing into the unstable debris fields that CONCORD either ignored or outright marked as too hazardous. They hauled out anything that wasn’t glowing, screaming, or melting—a mixture of ship parts, corrupted datacores, broken mining equipment, and whatever personal effects could be dragged out of a wreck before it vaporized.
It didn’t take long before they realized they were good at this. Better than the sanctioned recovery teams. Faster. More willing to go where others wouldn’t. And far less concerned with questions of “ownership.”
These early crews banded together under a name spoken half as a joke, half as a warning:
Seyllin Salvage & Recovery.