Third-party programs like this one let players do complex calculations on a ship's performance. It's complicated stuff, but what he showed me was that with just two pilots, Aggressively Average would've eventually killed the Orca (though likely not before the cops showed up). To illustrate this, my source used one of EVE Online's third-party tools to run the math, taking into account the defensive modules fitted to Lactose Intolerant's Orca and his own crew's ability to dish out damage. Groups like us will always find more people. "And there is no amount of tank you can place on a target that will make you invulnerable. " was fitted for aligning as quickly as possible while still having a tank that lasted long enough to withstand an attack from 17 Tornadoes, causing the destruction of most if not all of them by security forces," he says.īut my source within Aggressively Average disagrees: "Making a capital ship align fast isn't something that's feasible," he explains. In my email with Lactose Intolerant, he fired back at players who criticized him for being careless by flying a ship not suited for the job of transporting a lifetime's worth of blueprints. What makes a gank successful, then, is very precise math. Then, a second group of players will swoop in to salvage the wreckage of the kill and take any loot that might've dropped. An NPC police force will show up within seconds to destroy players who attack others, so high-sec gankers field large numbers of ships fitted to deal obscene damage, hoping to destroy their target in one salvo before being destroyed themselves by the cops. As I explained in my previous report, ganking in high-security space is a risky endeavour. "We stopped him another time and were in the process of grouping to destroy him when one of the group disconnected and we had to abort," the anonymous pilot says.īut this third time, however, Aggressively Average were prepared. Once, while hauling 5 billion worth of goods, members from Aggressively Average had set up a gank but called it off when a larger target showed up. Eventually, Aggressively Average, the alliance that orchestrated the kill, decided enough was enough. "On at least two other occasions we stopped him in game and would have destroyed him with extremely high-value hauls, but as a practice I often will let someone go to see if they will continue to haul higher amounts."īut Lactose Intolerant wouldn't stop. "Lactose Intolerant was stubborn and did not care," this anonymous player says. He requested to remain anonymous, so as not to upset anyone in his fleet for potentially giving out sensitive information.
Lactose Intolerant's reputation for flying carelessly is well known, says one of the pilots who helped kill him. It's hard to imagine what it's like watching all of that disappear in an instant, but, according to one of Lactose's killers, he had it coming. His Eos and Retribution blueprint are so rare that their value is more determined by what collectors are willing to pay, with similar blueprints typically fetching a hundred billion ISK each. Most of those blueprints can be replaced, but Lactose was also in possession of two extremely rare blueprints which are no longer available anywhere in the game. The result was a near-complete set of maxed out blueprints for EVE's biggest and most-used ships, like capital-class carriers and dreadnoughts. Gradually collected over his 16 years of playing, his little industry empire required three private starbases and four separate accounts to manage.ĭuring the height of his industrial enterprise, Lactose Intolerant says he had around 120 different research jobs running across his three factories. Any self-respecting industrialist in EVE has a treasure trove of blueprints they hoard like a dragon-and Lactose Intolerant's stash was easily one of the biggest.