Titans are massive beasts. Dwarfing any other ship or small mountain that may be near them, these monstrosities strike fear into the hearts of almost any sub-capital ship. Recent design changes have changed that somewhat, but the fact remains that a Titan remains a potent force on any field of battle. Being a creature of high sec space, I rarely had the opportunity to observe these daunting, yet graceful ships up close. Today, though, I was determined to not see just any titan, but the first one ever destroyed. Unfortunately, this meant that I needed to venture deeper into 0.0 than I ever had before. Warily, I told Aura my destination and set off.
I surprisingly arrive in C9N-CC without incident. I quickly warped the Professor to the site of the memorial. As my senses readjusted from coming out of warp, Aura queried the GalNet for me and told me that the Titan’s original name was Steve. An admittedly odd name for a ship of such size and power, but the effort that goes in to producing one of these pretty much allows the owners to name titans whatever they wanted, I supposed.
I came out of warp a few kilometers away from the wreck. It didn’t quite strike me just how massive the thing was from so far out. It was only as the Professor approached the wreck, and it kept growing and growing, did the sense of size really hit home. Buzzards were small ships to begin with, but the Professor was no more than a speck next to the hulking Avatar wreck. It’s often said that the emptiness and vastness of space can make a person feel small and absolutely insignificant. Well, to me, the emptiness of space has nothing next to this gargantuan construct. Planets and moons are one thing, but man-made objects that have their own gravitational fields were another matter entirely.
Whatever killed Steve had clearly not been a pleasant experience. Gashes on the sides of the hull were large enough to fit most cruisers inside, and I easily maneuvered the Professor into the hull. Not surprisingly for New Eden, the insides had been completely stripped: not even the deck plates remained. All that was left was superstructure itself, and frankly, I was surprised that people hadn’t salvaged even that. After looking around for a few moments, I gently guided the Professor back out.
I took the Professor for a lap around the ship. The docking entrance for the ship was massive enough for most battlecruisers, while the engines on the rear side seemed powerful enough to move mountains… which, in retrospect, is exactly what they did. It took me almost three minutes to make my way fully around the ship, yet another testament to this ship’s size. To see it active must truly be a sight to behold. Having never been involved in 0.0 warfare, I’ve only heard stories of these ships in flight. After seeing this particular one, I was more determined than ever to see an active titan.
Eventually, of course, it was time to get going. I guided the Professor away from the ship and back to high sec space. Most of the trip was relatively uneventful. Unfortunately, I made the mistake of letting my guard down in a little system called HED-GP, the last jump before high security space. I hit a gate camp just as I was about to jump, and in my haste I lost both the Professor and my current clone. Transitioning to a new clone was always a bit… jarring, but such is the price we pay. As I looked back on what I had seen, I decided that the trip was still more than worth it.
- Attraction: Steve Memorial
- System: C9N-CC
- Security Rating: 0.0
- Region: Esoteria
- Potential Hazards: C9N-CC is deep in 0.0 space, involving jumps across a number of different alliance territories, many of which may be operating under “Not Blue, Shoot It” protocol. Gate camps can be found often in transitioning from 0.0 to high security space, as well as on other gates. Caution is advised.