So you think you can pirate? – Introduction

Hello, ladies and gentlemen, fellow capsuleers. YARR!

Welcome to Mr Spaxi’s beginner pirate guide. In this blog section, I will be covering basic curriculum and ideas behind Low-Sec pirating in New Eden.

A bit about myself – I am a new addition to the Bastards alliance, currently in the Meatshield Corporation. I am blogging about my character’s personal experiences in pirating world. Even though I am only two months old, and just shy off 3M skill points, I have general idea about how stuff works, and I tend not to over complicate with unnecessary details.
My opinion is that I have been taught by one of the best PvPers out there, with honorable mentions being Johnny Twelvebore, TFS Tibbs, Eric Shang, Tekei, Lord LazyGhost, Sarcos and many, many others (forgive me if I hadn’t mentioned someone). I would also like to mention my fellow Meatshields, Dwaigon (for his experience as a Meatshield, feel free to follow this link to ZimZat’s blog where he had a little show of heart), Kadashnikov, CPT Shennan Igans, Rady’th, Mulchman and others who were around the time I joined the game.
Flying under the Bastards’ banner has been a privilege, and I suggest to any of you who wants to try himself out in low-cost Low-Sec pirating to join our Eve channel ‘DBastards’, bring a few cheap ships to Auner – Thukker Mix station, and convo me when I am online, or just join our public roams which are every Monday 19.00 Eve time. There will be an announcement for ship types, but it’s pretty much anything you can fit and is small, so assume T1 frigates. Also, feel free to visit our website at
Also, I am in the process of creating a FCing event, which will run once in two weeks with rewards in the end. Stay tuned, and have a good read.

This guide will consist out of six parts, each covering a pretty basic topic you need to get a hang off. Each part will include pictures, and videos, especially for things which can be explained better by watching me do it. Also, bear in mind that I will be giving out literature after each post, which I would suggest you to read up on for a bigger picture of the topic covered.

  • Part I – Introductionthis is the post you’re currently reading;
  • Part II – Mindset in this part, I will be talking about general ideas you should be having if you want to fly Low-Sec pirating;
  • Part III – Fitting this one will cover T1 frigates of all factions, honorable mention fits and some basic knowledge you will NEED to absorb;
  • Part IV – Overview and D-Scanfirst thing that needs to be setup after undocking in your fit ship is the overview. Once that is covered, I will be running through D-Scan tutorial;
  • Part V – Tips and Tricksgeneral advice and some out-of-the-box things you may or may not have known;
  • Part VI – Outro final part which will be a closing lecture.

Thank you for your time, enjoy your stay around the blog.

Fly safe, Mr Spaxi.


If you like what you read, please feel free to donate ISK to Mr Spaxi, as I do not have a steady ISK income and I rely on out-of-Eve work, like blogging and translating as income.


Humans have not evolved. We just learned to move on. Even though our bodies and technology improved over time, irrationalities of our minds remained. It’s like they were sewn into skulls, where to remove them you’d have to go through agonizing pathway of self-loathing and mental torture. Not many people dared to do that.

Duripant VII – 6 smelled. I could feel the stench as soon as I rose from the cloning-vat. Medical crew around me was ‘aligning my mental grid’ whatever that is. For me it meant that I will stay grounded for at least few more hours. While lying in bed I was connected to the galaxy wide network. All information was at my side. It’s overwhelming, you see. When you emerge as a capsuleer you find yourself to be empty. And there are holes. Man, are there holes. Everything you lived before that moment was something you could feel happened but have no memory off. It’s a fucked up feeling, sensing in your bones and every part of your body that a certain event took place but there’s no memory to link it with. Hell, I must be going mental.

Led Zeppelin was one of the Earth rock bands. I was following some articles on culture and stumbled upon it. They seemed to have worshipped the ‘Devil’, or at least religious people said so. I couldn’t care less, the music was keeping my head moving forward and backwards, and it kept me entertained. Whole lotta love was blazing. To be honest, I felt alone. Nobody was by my side during the recovery period. Even though I had five thousand ISK in my wallet, I felt like I had nothing. Thank the Maker the GWW was there.

I was listening to some news reports. There was some word about a pirate gang operating in the Minmattar – Amarr faction warfare space. Allegedly, a capsuleer had his ship destroyed by a small gang of space pirates who call themselves ‘The Bastards’ and whole Gallente space was buzzing about it. During his interview, the capsuleer said, and I quote – “the pirates weren’t so bad at all. I mean, they did destroy my ship and turned off my pods warp, that’s true, but they weren’t trying to kill me. I had no money but they still tried to give me a way out. I had to sing for them.” Through some backdoor surfing I managed to find out that they were actually posing as a corporation. Can you believe it? Bloody pirates have a legal office in Auner? Concord must be getting softer. Or smaller.

There was nothing for me to lose. I was immortal. Was I supposed to spend my entire immortality as a lone wolf? No. It kicked in at that moment – the need, not desire, to be part of a pack. A wolf pack. The overwhelming intoxication of having other people you can count on and who can count on you. Brothers. Like in past, past I had no memory of. I reviewed a lot of information about them by the time I was let off the med bay. They seemed to be a bunch of scarred battle veterans who had no desire in killing innocents. As odd as it may appear, they were destroying other peoples’ ships and pods for fun. No hard feelings, just pure fun.

As soon as I could, I contacted their front man. At the time, his codename was ‘Johnny Twelvebore’. I got into my pod and as soon as I established a neural link I got invited on communications with them. What the hell were they thinking? I was a complete stranger looking to meet up with some people. I was sure they were planning to kill me, however it was worth a shot. The urge for belonging somewhere was too overwhelming for me not to try it out. Funny people, them Bastards. Most of them spoke in a funny accent I wasn’t familiar with, especially a capsuleer codenamed ‘Lord Lazyghost’. His English dialect was impossible to understand and he seemed to be slightly retarded, but everyone was loving him. A good pilot, for sure.

As a member of Federation Navy Academy I was given a Velator. It’s a shit ship, to be honest, but it’s better than nothing. Supply officer gave me a few modules and a few contacts, which I was just about to hit up when I received a fleet connection interface. You see, when you’re in a pod, it’s like you’re suspended in 3D space. You’re floating, you can see all around your pod, even though you’re enclosed and your eyes are closed. Links with your brain are powerful enough to project your surroundings. Anyway, a fleet connection interface popped up and my computer voiced itself for the first time – a young lady in my mind with voice hardly understandable spoke to me. At first I was confused, paranoia struck me as I wondered if I were alone in the pod. Then I remembered the training – that’s the ship computer establishing a connection with me. She spoke “Fleet invitation issued by Johnny Twelvebore, do you accept the invitation”.

Confusion struck me like a snowball in the face. They were calling me out on comms to go and meet up with them. Hell, they didn’t even let me talk to the contacts I was issued. “Computer, set destination Auner. Undock. Warp to waypoint. Jump. Warp to waypoint. Jump.” I had to repeat that command at least ten times. Auner was far away and flying with autopilot would have taken ages. Your autopilot warps you to fifteen km of your destination. That takes a lot of time, and they had none. I was constantly being bugged on comms to give them updates on my location. Swear to Maker it smelled funny.

Jumping into Auner was a rattle for me. As soon as I dropped inside the system I was greeted by three flashing ships in overview. “You are being targeted” my ship computer warned me. “Shield at eighty percent” was the next warning. Holy shit, I am being attacked. I saw one pilot name, and indeed, it was Johnny. I quickly pondered on comms what the fuck was going on, but it turned out to be a joke, a greeting ritual. Too bad the poor bastard who shot at me didn’t manage to warp out in time and was splatted by the gate guns. Heh, law works differently in low security space. That was my first lesion, do not shot people while at gate.

We proceeded to the Thukker Mix station, a place they call home. They gave me a new ship. It didn’t feel uncomfortable to fly it, it just felt a bit distant. It had a new computer, a computer I was just getting to know and a computer who will become a part of me as much as my arms and legs are. We undocked and blasted into known (to me unknown) space, catching other people and destroying their ships. All in good fun. It was then I started understanding how capsuleer life works  – if you have money, your potential is unlimited. People are immortal and the most fragile things a person can possess are bonds with others. We never saw each other face to face, but they were friendly, they gave me a ship, they made me smile. I sound like a fucking pussy right now, but it seemed like I found friends.


 They say that when humans first stepped into Heaven they sprouted wings and became angels. Immortal. I disagree. We attached wings to ourselves, stormed the gates of Heaven and snatched the immortality from our Maker. Yes, such demeanor suits us better.

The Gallente Federation was supposed to be a Utopia, last place in known Universe where citizens have full freedom. A democracy. I soon learned of its false pretenses. During my military service I fought. I fought every day. Planets were being turned, mountains crushed. There was nothing standing in our way, not even the mighty Caldari State. I was sure we were doing it for the better future. I’ve been told we were doing it for the better future. I’ve been told the same thing every morning, every meal, every training, every time I went to take a crap.

Maker, it was so long ago. I no longer remember where. My brothers and I were at our posts, firing blasters in every direction. We were invading a planet which has no name, only a number. Heh, everything became a number. It’s funny how no longer we give ourselves the freedom to name things we discover. Planet I, planet II, Asteroid belt I, Asteroid belt CXCIX. We were holding hostages. Amarr men, women and children. Our commanding officer was in a meeting, during which there was a cease-fire. We agreed to turn over the hostages, but not to surrender. There was no way out.

I was clueless. We all were. All eight posts were handed at least fifteen hostages to turn over. It all happened so fast. The children ran towards the Caldari military. As soon as they reached the main bulk of the force, blinding rays of light emerged from all sides. The poor people were strapped with thermonuclear devices, and obliterated. There we were, a nation which held to their principles so much. I realized we weren’t fighting for others. We were enforcing democracy. I use to joke now – we were out there, shooting at our enemies, spreading at least 1000 DPS (Democracies per second) on every planet we knew was contested.

My unit got promoted. We were put into special task force and forced into capsuleer training. It turned out we all had the genetic predisposition to be pilots. Wow, a pilot – I often thought. Only the top military can get there. One in a million, they said. That one in a million was me. The others… well, the odds were against them, I guess. During our training we weren’t reading books. We weren’t listening to lectures. We were being force-fed knowledge through neural links. Man, when I think about the headaches. Doing pushups in 50G environment was nothing compared to the pain from data uploads. But I got used to it. We had a new propaganda. We were being told that all our future actions will echo through the universe, and as butterfly wing flaps create small gusts of wind which can grow into a tornado, our actions will ripple and spread.

My fellows, my… brothers, eventually went mad. A couple of them went berserk and attacked our CO. It didn’t look well. As the training progressed, I was getting better and better. My spaceship command, which was trained on the SCS (Spaceship command simulator), was superb. The Gallente Federation has trained me well. It was time. I was bonded with a contract. Medical facilities now produce clones of me. I couldn’t even grasp the complexity of technology used, but I didn’t even try.

Our training regiment’s CO invited me over for a talk. It was a cold and dry day, if I recall correctly. It didn’t smell right. This part of my life is still blurry. I was told that there was one final test. ‘Maker, this is it’ – I thought. The CO told me my previous life is now gone. I am no longer Nemanja Djordjevic, from now on I have no name. No past. My codename is ‘Mr Spaxi’. As words left his mouth and entered my ears, he flung a pistol and shot me directly. I felt no pain, only… shattering. It was like my mind dissolved into the universe and converged again in a single point.

I woke up in a pod. My chrysalis was breaking. A butterfly was set free, and man, was I going to flap my wings!