Outgunned and outnumbered, but never outplayed; our community of veteran players shared their best EVE Online against-all-odds battle stories in which they snatched victory from the jaws of defeat. Having given them a quick polish, we’re sharing them with you. Why? Because everyone loves an underdog, and every dog has its day. 

These odds-defying EVE Online battle stories have been told in the players’ own words, and as such there’s some EVE lexicon that you may not be familiar with. Check out our EVE Online glossary for any terms you’re unsure of. 

The Fight That Took Two Years

Hello, Hollywood, are you there? We’ve got a story for you. They say pride comes before a fall, and in EVE that can be the pride of a single corp member and the fall of entire systems. First up we have an EVE Online story from Rixx Javix that demonstrates just how quickly things can escalate in New Eden. 

I haven't said anything about this on my blog, on social media, or anywhere else, and I’ve avoided using any names. We’re trying to avoid any unnecessary repercussions, so this one is just for us at Just About. It’s a story about not giving up, despite the odds, and sticking to your plan no matter what others are saying or doing. I think Just About is the perfect place to share it. 

A little history: several years ago, a single pilot in our corporation made some bold claims in local. He declared that the low-security system in which we live was ours and no one else could use it without our permission. This proclamation angered some of the other residents, who fired back in chat. This back-and-forth continued until the other side became so enraged they attacked one of our structures.

A war ensued. They attacked our structure, so we attacked one of theirs. This went on for a week or so and suddenly the conflict started to expand. Others were drawn into the fight. Nasty things were said on Discord servers and the escalation continued. As I raced to keep up with the rapidly changing landscape, I reached out to the original combatants and made peace. The original pilot was let go from our group, and I hoped amity would reign. This was not to be. 

One of the largest groups in Lowsec decided that we deserved to be punished, and thus began a campaign to remove all of our structures from our home system. This was despite a longstanding agreement between us regarding those structures, which we use only to host our annual Frigate Free For All events. This did nothing to stop them and, once started, there was no way for us to stop them. In short order, our structures were gone and in their place remained a sole Astrahus of theirs. To rub salt in the wound, it was in view of our home station and given an intentionally provocative name.

It’s important to mention that our small group of pirates flies mostly solo and small-gang frigates and cruisers. Comparatively, our far-larger group of opponents flies much, much larger ships. Our playstyles could not be more different. We rarely interact in space.

And so began a slow and deliberate rebel action. While we didn’t have the forces to take them on toe-to-toe, what we did have was determination. For two long years, we attacked their structure. Our attacks were sporadic and unguessable, oftentimes they were two or three times a week, other times there were months between our attacks. We’d alternate our ships and fleet formations. Sometimes we’d attack solo, sometimes en masse. The plan was to just never halt. Often this would end with nothing accomplished, or with the loss of a few ships. But we never stopped.

Over the summer we managed to remove this group's ownership of the POCOs in our system. For those of you who don’t know, POCO stands for Player Owned Customs Office, and each planet has one to collect tax from the use of those planets; they’re a small but important source of income. 

From there, we doubled our efforts to remove their antagonistic structure. For days at a time we would log in and attack it incessantly. And just as incessantly, they would respond - often by manning the station and running us off though also by dropping far superior forces on us as a show of strength. But we kept at it. We never gave up. We became unpredictable, often putting the structure into a timer and then not showing up for the final countdown. We also established a line of scouts that could help us determine our enemies’ intentions ahead of time.

And then, our moment arrived. We had already put the structure into its first timer. Then we brought out a new fleet composition we'd been holding onto for the final assault, when we thought we might have a better-than-normal chance of success. And it worked like a charm. No one showed up to defend. And on August 27 - over two and a half years later - the structure finally exploded.

Not all great fights in EVE Online are between ships.

If you’d like to learn more about the Frigate Free For All Event that Rixx mentioned, check out our breakdown of annual EVE Online events. 

Chasing shadows

JHenckes loves it when a plan comes together. And some plans, no matter how foolhardy, seem blessed by Bob Himself. This one’s for the little guys, the plucky misfits, and those who never give up hope. 

It was a quiet Saturday night. My cousins, friends, and I were playing as we did every weekend. Our corporation was small, and we’d recently joined a coalition to conquer some territory in Nullsec. Our alliance was small too; frankly, we were an ill-equipped group, save for a few rare exceptions (read: a bunch of crazy people and few expert shots). We usually relied on a ‘hit and run’ strategy. Only that evening, things didn’t go to plan. 

We received information that a 50-ship-strong hostile fleet was heading towards one of our systems, with the intention of its capture. We had few more than ten pilots online. Fear was prevalent. Most were already discussing our imminent defeat, but a lone few held their nerve, and with talk of an impeccable defence, rallied the rest for battle.

Our intel was correct. The enemy arrived in force; a mixture of warships and support cruisers, equipped with Tech II and with great firepower. On our side, we had a few battlecruisers, some logistics ships, and a single stealth bomber (yep, that last one is your humble storyteller).

Our plan was simple: lure, harass, and keep our foes chasing shadows. I loaded my Nemesis stealth bomber with a rack of torpedoes, camouflaged myself, and went ahead of the fleet to reconnoitre. My task was to ambush their logistics ships - their lifeline. If I could take out one or two of their guardians, we might stand a chance.

The moment came when their fleet reached the gate. Our main force struggled, barely managing to keep up, dancing on the edge of combat range as I positioned myself. Our opponents were concentrating on the chase, and that gave me my window. I was scared to death, unable to shake the feeling that the entire strategy was both misguided and doomed. I shook it off and stuck to the plan.

Choosing my moment, I exited camo, lined up my shot, and unleashed my torpedoes. One of their logistics ships disintegrated under the blast. Only now I was exposed. Their entire fleet turned against me. I activated my cloak just in time to vanish from their scanners.

They hesitated, not knowing whether to continue the main chase or switch to defence. In their confusion, our backup fleet entered from a new angle. The battlefield descended into utter chaos.

Seeing the opening, I went after their DPS ships and snagged another kill. Our enemy was panicking and began a disorganised retreat. Our losses? Minimal. Their fleet? Destroyed or running. 

Against all odds, we’d won. We shouldn't have stood a chance, but by taking the risk, pulling off a plan, and with a lot of luck, we were victorious. The game was already very enjoyable, but this experience made it all the better! The memory will never leave me. 

Poking the hive of the Horde 

Henckes had a plan. Kshal Aideron? Let’s just say strategy isn’t their strong suit. By their own admission, they’re the type who convinces themselves that they’re playing 3D chess, only to look down and see their Jenga tower lying in ruin. And in situations like that, with just a bunch of rookies at your back and foes amassing at your front, there’s only one thing you can do: improvise. 

So that we’re clear, I’m the worst strategist in the world. Take the CSM summit, when I got CCP Convict to teach the EVE boardgame to me, Satan, Storm, and Oz. While certain the battle would lead to my Caldari glory, I instead ended up cornered and teamed up on by Satan and Oz. 

But that’s not the story we’re here for. This story is about the time I led my Dessies and Down newbro roam - consistently held together with duct tape and a prayer - to get a Mackanaw and Orca right next to Pandemic Horde staging… and lived to tell the tale. 

It was November 22, 2023, a Wednesday - the time to take the FUNny Newbros out in a NPSI (Not Purple Shoot It) kitchen sink fleet. We were about 16 pilots strong, including a couple who were new to hunting. It’s worth noting that in FC fleets under my command, anyone can try any role. 

We yeeted out to Null and landed in Malpais, set on hunting into Perrigen. We were neither quick nor agile, and I usually get us whelped when I try what other NPSI FCs do. But, for some reason, we ended up in TDP-T3, which is right next to the staging system MJ.  

A scout, trying to stay calm, let us know that he'd caught sight of two Mackanaws and a Porpoise. We get into TDP and take care of the Porpoise and one Mack. While we start working on the second, another scout tells us he caught an Orca.

Local chat started to come alive, and a Caracal - as well as a few other small ships - began to land. We let the Mack go and flew to the Orca. At this point, I told the fleet that we’d either be victorious or go out in a blaze of glory.

Well, while local was getting more and more fiery, and Horde sent out a proper response fleet, my ragtag band poured every ounce of firepower into that Orca, taking it out just as the response fleet landed. 

It’s one of the very few times that I’ve not only been able to do something sneaky and strategic, but have the killmails and video to prove it. And hey, maybe I accidentally killed one or two of our newbros to get that sweet Orca explosion, but we’ll just call that an Icarus moment. 

Here’s the video, Jon Bon Jovi and all: 

The vampire’s Achilles’ heel

While in some video games, enemies have big glowing red spots indicating their weak points, EVE is not a game that telegraphs its solutions so clearly. But as Luka Zaharin ingeniously worked out, where there’s a will, there’s a way - even in showdowns that some would consider unwinnable. It’s these sorts of unique and inventive tactics that make EVE Online stories unrivalled. 

It was a Friday evening and the corp had assembled for our weekly roam. When we reached Fliet, we encountered an old friend and arranged a fight. We agreed on the ships to bring and found a good spot to fight in. What followed was a long and difficult grind through the crazy tank of a T2 Vargur battleship and finally a great killmail. If things had ended there, you wouldn’t be reading this right now. But that was only the beginning.

The Vargur pilot wanted a rematch and decided to bring his neuting battleship - a Bhaalgorn - to the fight. We were ready on the warp in and tackled him right away. We were accustomed to fighting large targets, so we entered orbit and he could no longer track us. The Bhaalg has very strong bonuses to energy nosferatu though, and its pilot did everything he could to try to get us. Again, the grind started, but this time we had to be careful not to lose all of our cap and die.

After about 35 minutes of shooting that insanely tanky vessel, I came to the realisation that we may be locked in a stalemate. I contacted the pilot and asked if he relied on any kind of cap boosters and if there was a chance to drain him out over the course of time. The answer was no. There was no way to destroy his ship as long as we had cap; his reppers were feeding off our fleet's resources. We were at the point of extracting and leaving him when one of our pilots had an idea.

The Bhaalg’s nosferatus were transferring energy from us to him, but if we had no more cap, the nosferatus would become useless and he would lose the ability to tank. This was the first time I called my logi to activate their repair modules onto undamaged fleet members. I told my DPS pilots to heat their neuts and activate every single cap-eating module, even if it was useless. The two pilots that were under drain finally ran out of cap, and even their ABs turned off. Without our cap, the Bhaalg began to struggle and its repairers turned off! Now it was just a question of time. In the end, that pirate battleship exploded, and we’d destroyed a ship that would have been considered unkillable by our fleet!

The Bhaalgorn pilot jumped into our voice comms and we had a great chat. He was rather surprised about our tactic. It was a lot of fun, and whenever I encounter a hopeless situation in EVE now, I think of that moment. 45 minutes of fighting, but we didn’t give up! Here’s the killmail. 

A prize catch

Talking of the impossible, you can imagine LeeeroyJenkins's surprise when they discovered a goliath in a wormhole that had no right to be there. Lock and load. 

It was just another day of bumming around the wormhole system that we called home. A handful of corpmates and I were trying to figure out what we wanted to do. Should we go hunting? Should we do some pirate sites and salvage all the loot? 

One of our guys decided he would buzz around through some connecting wormholes and look for some good gas-mining sites. His gas-huffing boat was nice and stealthy, perfect for what he was about to do. He took off to do his thing while we sat around PvPing each other and scratching our butts. Before long, his voice came over our comms: “Bring boats, lots of them!”

Now, keep in mind that we can only fit destroyer class and smaller ships through this wormhole; destroyers being one of the smallest classes of ship.

So, we get our boats and stage on our side of the hole. This was so that we could jump through the hole en masse. Surprise! You suddenly have 12 ships in the hole with you and you’ve just hit pucker factor 11. Our man in the hole is cloaked up and starts feeding us warp-in points. He comes in over comms once more and tells us: “Just be ready for a long fight.”

Our fleet commander gives the countdown: “3, 2, 1, JUMP!” We hit the other side of the hole and once everyone’s in, we align and warp in. When we hit the warp-in point, we were astounded and excited to see that what our corpmate had found was a freakin’ Rorqual - a giant, unbelievably expensive industrial mining ship, laden with drones and tougher than John Wayne.

Our fleet commander gives us the green light, giving orders for certain groups to kite the Rorqual and for others to focus on the drones. The attack commences. In the meantime, calls are going out through online chat apps, text messages, and phone calls: all hands on deck!

Over the next few hours, pilots are logging in and out due to real-life responsibilities, partner aggro, and tiredness. Tactical destroyers, bombers, and logistics ships are coming and going. Ships are destroyed and capsules are coming back with new jump clones and ships. 

When all was said and done, the Rorqual succumbed. This was a big deal. As far as we were aware, we were the first to ever bring down a Rorqual in a wormhole. We were under the impression that at the time, a ship of that size couldn’t get into a wormhole. Some of our members even contacted CCP to inquire about it but never received a conclusive answer.

Whatever the case, we had a major victory that will be forever memorialised on zkill.

Guerilla tactics from Wicked Creek 

Let the fall of Troy be a lesson that peace offerings are not always to be trusted. Fortunately, the three dreadnoughts and hundreds of attack ships that delivered said offering clued Sturmer in on the need to prepare a desperate defence.  

It was December 2005, about a year after the disbandment of Curse Alliance. The scattered remnants of its former glory were forming new forces, and I was part of one of them – a small corp of 20 people. We had spent a year in constant combat against Veritas Imortalis, The Five, and the former southern landlords, Arcane Technologies (ATUK).

We managed to ally with the locals and negotiated favourable terms with Red Alliance, RAT, and Section 13. Together, we held the Detorid region, allowing them free passage and access to outpost services. Our main outpost system was 0-W778. Back then, you couldn’t place your own outposts, only claim existing ones.

Then one day, the Chimaera Pact (CHIMPs) arrived with over 400 pilots, including three dreadnoughts, bearing a message: "We want to live in peace.” That message of peace was followed by a siege. At that moment, it was basically 13 of us against 400 of them.

We couldn’t face them head-on, so we resorted to guerrilla warfare – catching their rear stragglers, setting traps, and more. Unfortunately, Red Alliance, while vocal on forums and chats, offered little in the way of real help. Most of CHIMPs were from Finfleet, in the Eastern timezone. During the day, they destroyed all our Player Owned Structures (POSs), and at night, we ran freighters from empire space, loaded with towers and fuel. This went on for almost three months, during which we burned through over 400 POSs, but eventually, we lost the system and the region.

For the next few months, we continued our guerrilla operations, hiding in the Wicked Creek region, a desolate area with no outposts or stations. I still have some videos from that campaign, though they’re heavy with now-copyrighted music. Here are a few stats from our winter campaign:

And then came the infamous meat grinder at C-J6MT, but that’s a story for another time!

For more great stories, straight from the mouths of capsuleers, check out these EVE Online player stories or these EVE Online stories of narrow escapes. Some text has been edited for brevity, clarity, or spelling, punctuation, and grammar. You can find the original wording here. Image credit: Razorien on Flickr.