My fleet, about 50 strong in a mix of armor battleships and battlecruisers, sat immediately off the shields of a POS as we waited. Intel had spotted the enemies on their titan when suddenly they all disappeared. Scrambling to get eyes on, I almost didn't notice the Arazu decloak thirty kilometers away. Just as I called it primary, the cyno went up and everything went to hell.
Setting the Stage
My alliance, THE ROYAL NAVY, had already had a long day. When a call went out from our neighbors for backup, we had already been through several skirmishes with various groups that had resulted largely in victories. We reshipped to a heavy armor fleet consisting mostly of battleships with logistics for backup. We flew 15 jumps or so, meeting up with additional allies on the way. We were two systems away when I was informed that unmentionable excrement was hitting the fan, and we needed to hurry.
Finally, we jumped into the target system and into the middle of a full blown capital brawl. Due to an overview glitch and some laggy standings changes, it took me a moment to make sense of what was going on. Finally, I settled on a target and we began chewing on a Moros. Now I'll be the first to tell you: I'm not much for capitals. I much prefer being able to move faster than a moon. While I've definitely been around them, this was the first occasion where I've been put in charge with capitals down. Luckily, the other FCs were more knowledgeable and prepared to help us find sieged or triaged targets and focus them down. 5 Archons and a Moros - along with a couple unlucky Tech 3 cruisers - succumbed to our neuts and guns.
When the dust settled, it proved to be a decisive victory, at least according to the killboards. TRN had only lost a Megathron and a few smaller ships for a total of half a billion ISK. Once all the kills had been posted, Eve-kill estimated enemy losses at around 20 billion. Our allies had lost a capital or two, so when they claimed the loot on the field, we certainly didn't object. After everything was scooped and salvaged, we finally made our way home, feeling pretty proud of ourselves. Someone reminded me that we had a POS coming out of reinforce in 4 hours, and in my celebrations, I agreed to command the defense fleet.
I logged back in about 2 hours before the POS would be able to be repaired, so I set about gathering my troops and repairing some of the weapons on starbase. It was entering US prime-time, and our numbers were less than expected. Then the guy who had been reaching out for backup announced he had to log out for the night, dumping some information into a quick evemail and sending it to me. Several conversation invites appeared on my screen at once, and I set about trying to line up our allies for the evening.
Meanwhile, TRN had reshipped from our motley collection of repair ships to a slightly less motley armor battleship fleet. One group of allies joined us in the POS system, swelling our armor fleet to about 50. The allies we had backed up earlier in the day were bringing a kiting tier 3 battlecruiser gang, and the wild card of the evening was a small fleet from Bomber's Bar. Juggling these conversations while still trying to coordinate the pilots already in system brings me to the bewildered FC's first lesson.
Trying to juggle allies, fleet bonuses and getting people in the correct ships at the same time is a recipe for error, and at the very least places undue stress on the FC. Delegate Fleet Boss to a competent member (your secondary target caller/FC is perfect for this) to sort out squads and wings. A diplomat or veteran of your corporation/alliance leadership can talk to allies and help get them on the same page.