The Summer of Swag

The guys in Cold Moon Destruction are debased, violent, emotionally abusive, trolling, 100% all gay, godless, immoral sons of whores. If I ever had friends I'd never met they are it.

I can barely remember not having flown with Cold Moon. It seems like forever since I joined - probably because of No'Wai's proliferation of anti-straight propaganda, Torshawna's absentee-ism, Atom's endless complaining, Terumah's propensity for leading us to believe our static wasn't spawning, Everlast's desire to instigate trouble and me constantly being kicked to the em0 Scissor room mid-sentence. Of course, let's not forget Henry's uncanny ability to harvest an entire Instrumental with his army of alts before anyone else could land on grid or Fischey's scanning (and dying) in Tech1 frigates for months on end.

Honestly I don't know how we survived for as long as we have, but our time is almost up. The Summer of Swag is winding down and Cold Moon Destruction draws its last few breaths.

As we all go our separate ways I'd like to reminisce about our last glorious fight, a fitting end to the Summer of Swag.

http://kb.cldmn-destruction.com/?a=kill_related&kll_id=303

The Aztechs were looking for a fight and we determined to give them what for. Carriers and dreadnoughts were boarded. Support ships were readied. Scouts were already relaying intel from the hostile system and once everyone gave the good-to-go we warped our fleet onto the wormhole, held by a paltry token force.

We knew there would be more.

The Aztechs did not disappoint. While their swarm of Legions unleashed a debilitating torrent of energy neutralizers against our carrier pilot their Guardians formed a logistics chain we couldn't break. Their sub-capital assault ships held us down until their own dreadnoughts made it to the field and established their dominance without mercy.

Outnumbered 3-to-1 and without support we broke away from the engagement with what few sub-capitals we could, but that cannot be counted as any worth. The Aztech dreadnought fire ripped through our own capital hulls and whether anyone knew it or not the explosions were the death knells of Cold Moon Destruction.

No one regrets this. It is the natural order of things.

So, my CLDMN space-bros, this is it. We've murdered more things than I can count, relentlessly trolled every kind-hearted person we've encountered, mastered space that most people will never see and some will never learn of.

It's been fun and I love you like a dog loves a hump-toy.

Yolo swag.