The Flycatcher Went First
The first confirmed loss came at 15:28 UTC: a Flycatcher, a command destroyer belonging to Special Expeditionary Force. It is the sort of ship that exists to make things happen for everyone else, and it is usually the first thing on the field to stop existing. This one did. What followed was not a skirmish that got quietly out of hand. Over the next three hours and twenty-three minutes, 442 pilots passed through the system and 376 ships were destroyed, worth about 156.6 billion ISK between them. Four of those losses were capitals. One was a structure. None - worth saying plainly - were supercapitals. Nobody brought a Titan to E-WMT7, and given what the system did to everything else that showed up, that decision aged reasonably well. The engagement opened small and grew, which is how most expensive afternoons in Perrigen Falls begin. By the end it was a battle of attrition that simply refused to stop.
One Battleship, Fifty-One Billion ISK
The single most expensive loss of the entire engagement was an Apocalypse Navy Issue worth 50.7 billion ISK - roughly one ISK in every three that died in E-WMT7. The Amarr Navy's battleship is not a cheap hull, but no hull is a fifty-billion-ISK hull. At that price the ship is almost incidental. The money is in the modules bolted to it, and all of that is now distributed across a wreck field in Perrigen Falls. It was not an isolated act of extravagance. The other headline losses were a Nestor at 12.1 billion, a Typhoon Fleet Issue at 10.7 billion, and an Apostle at 27.3 billion - battleships and a capital, all fitted well past the point where the fittings cost more than the hull. When people describe a fleet as blinged, this is the arithmetic they mean.
Four Capitals, No Titans
Four capital ships died in E-WMT7. The most expensive was an Apostle, the Amarr force auxiliary - a capital logistics ship whose entire purpose is keeping other capitals alive. Losing one costs 27.3 billion ISK, but the more immediate problem is that the fleet it belonged to can no longer repair itself, which is usually the moment people start thinking seriously about leaving. What is conspicuously absent from the totals is anything above capital class. No Titans, no supercarriers, no triple-digit-billion single hulls. This was a capital battle in the honest sense: capitals and very expensive subcapitals traded over hours rather than seconds, with a structure destroyed somewhere in the middle of it, and the bill still running to 156.6 billion ISK. That restraint may have been deliberate planning or it may simply be that the fight never presented a target worth the risk. Either way, the field was expensive enough without escalating further.
Scan Stakan Killed 55 Ships and Lost 186
That single line is the fight. Scan Stakan appear on both sides of the ledger - 55 kills, 186 losses - which is the honest way of saying this was a mutual engagement rather than a one-sided execution. A mutual engagement, however, can still be a catastrophically bad trade. On the other side, the kills were spread across several groups: Zero Fun Allowed accounted for 30, Higher Than Everest 27, GreenSwarm 26 and Incognito Mode 22. Losses elsewhere were comparatively light. Heavenly Strategies lost 22 ships, The Ninth Person 15, I.N.K.V.I.Z.I.C.I.A 10 and Zima Corp 9 - which together add up to barely a third of Scan Stakan's total. Their 186 losses are not a bad night. They are a restructuring event. Somewhere inside that, the pilot credited with the most damage across the entire battle was Alarye. Whoever they were flying alongside, they had a very good day at somebody else's expense.
The Last Thing to Die Was a Tractor Unit
At 18:50 UTC, more than three hours after the Flycatcher died, Scan Stakan lost a Mobile Tractor Unit - a small deployable whose only function is dragging wrecks into a tidy pile. It is the least significant entry in the entire dataset and, somehow, the most telling. After 186 losses and three and a half hours of fighting, someone was still out there in E-WMT7, tractoring the field. That is usually how these end. Not with a decisive final engagement, but with the slow realisation that the shooting has stopped, the wrecks need collecting, and the logistics of a bad afternoon are considerably more tedious than the afternoon itself. Somewhere in the aftermath sit a 50.7-billion-ISK Apocalypse, a dead Apostle, a destroyed structure and 376 killmails. Scan Stakan will file E-WMT7 under lessons learned. Everyone else has a killboard worth being pleased about.
