Denis MacCumber

MinmatarVherokiorKillboard

Corporazione[BABAC] BaBadooK Inc.

Alleanza[MYND] Myndbender Labs Alliance

Creato il: …
Prossimo compleanno: …
Ultima attività: …
Security status: 5.00

Scheda di combattimento

Numeri da eve-kill, di tutta la carriera

Combattimento

Kill: 407
Perdite: 438
Efficienza: 48%

Indice di pericolo: 87%

ISK

Distrutti: 121.76B
Persi: 24.52B
Efficienza ISK: 83%

Bilancio: +97.23B

Solo

Kill in solo: 116
Percentuale solo: 29%
Colpi finali: 172
Punti: 489

Altro

Perdite contro NPC: 55
Quota perdite NPC: 13%
Kill medie/giorno: —
Attività: Media

Danni

Danni inflitti20.6M

Danni subiti4.0M

Rapporto danni84%

Profilo operativo

Come combatte, con chi e contro chi — ultimi 90 giorni

Attività

Cosa vola e dove combatte

NaviUltima settimana

Nessun dato in questo periodo.

SistemiUltima settimana

J124635C-R000140

I più preziosi

Chi incontra

Chi uccide, da chi viene ucciso e cosa perde

ClassificheUltimi 90 giorni

Scafi persi

Perdite suddivise per classe di scafo.

Carriera

Le corporazioni attraversate, dalla più recente

Bio in gioco

≡√≡ 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