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Becoming an Outlaw

I originally wrote this as a contest entry today, 2010-07-02. Until I actually READ instead of skimmed over this text "Announcing this springs author competition in celebration of the new upcoming free expansion named "Tyrannis" to EVE Online! " Haha. oh well. Enjoy.


"He was... everything I had... My love, gone in an instant... I must get revenge" Such are the words of one of the journal's sitting on top of my navigation system. It's my hobby; I collect the data logs from downed enemy ships. Its possible that I just don't like to see people lose their life, so I hoard parts of them in remembrance. Perhaps I Just don't like killing, but I must. I must scrape for a living, doing anything I can, no matter how evil. For that is the life of an outlaw. It is a sad, pathetic existence, and something I am ashamed of. The worst part is I'm innocent.

The fateful day began just as any other would. I woke up, grabbed some breakfast and a bottle of Quafe to satisfy my never ending addiction. It jump starts my day, so I can do what is most important, making a living as a trader. I have recently finished a few classes on piloting the Pilgrim. I thought it would be nice to take a break from the Obelisk, that slow moving piece of garbage. The Pilgrim has a fearsome reputation because of a few not so appreciated people in Lonetrek. So I walk towards it, excited to take it out for a test run before I try any combat. Unfortunately, that was not my fate for this day. A Concord General is standing next to my ship with a pamphlet and pen in his hands, writing. "What are you doing general?" He didn't answer. Instead he pointed at my ship, then proceeded to write. apparently I was parking in his spot. This is not a good thing in New Eden. He was writing a ticket.

General's can do anything they want, but get frowned upon by the public. Maybe that is the reason so many people just wish to be just officers. The general asked if he could search my ship. I strictly told him that I do not consent to any searches. He simply grinned at me and had his way. He stole my holo-key and opened the loading ramp. At this point, I was panicking. Because I noticed a suspicious looking brown package sitting in the middle of my cargo hold. He proceeded towards it, and picked it up and looked at me. "Do you know what this is, son?" "No sir, its not mine." I am pretty sure we both knew that it was a smuggling pack for boosters. He opened it up and confirmed his suspicions. I looked at him, and he looked at me. I knew I was in HUGE trouble. So, as quick as lightning I whipped out my blaster and shot him 3 times dead in the chest. He falls to the floor with plasma burns around the holes in his chest. Swiftly, I kick him out of my hold back into the station floor and jump start my engines. I am officially a fugitive now, and I need to make a quick escape or I am doomed. I flip on my afterburners and whiz out of the station. I'm only 15 kilometers away from it when i notice Concord ships hot on my tail. Now since by profession I am a trader, I supply the nearby low-sec systems for outlaws. So I know there is a .4 security system 1 jump away. Safety... At least from the police. I'm searching through the solar system map, "It's not fast enough! Hurry up dammit!" Pissed off, I align my ship to a random stargate without the help of my NAV, hoping to have the right coordinates for the stargate. I pound the warp button just in time to escape a flurry of torpedoes from Concord!

"God is in my favor today", I say as I approach the stargate to low sec. As soon as I jump through I am blinded by the Sun. It is so close to the gate that I can feel the heat resonating from it! My sensors say 134,556km. I feel as if I am melting, so I close the observation window, relying on the structure of my ship to bear it until I can get to safety. Hah, safety.. in low sec? Well, as a fugitive, it is safer than high sec. I load up the bounty board on my computer and notice I moved from the capsuleer list, to the outlaw list. "Hmph, figures..." Then I almost do a double take as I look at the bounty on my corpse. 1,034,864,009 ISK! Normally I am not one prone to feinting. But believe me, I almost did. I look at the records and see it was posted by the general's immediate family. I thought to myself, "They posted it so quick its as if they knew it would happen!"I forgot to re-cloak as I jumped through the system, so when I naturally de-cloaked from jumping, I was greeted by a friendly Dominix Pilot. I pop open my observation window, willing to get a view of his actions while ignoring the pain from the sun. I see what appears to be a swarm of drones heading for my direction. He is not so friendly after all.

Instinctively, I start to approach him at an angle in order reduce my transversial. While at the same time, I pop my drones out in order to kill his. I'm into armor by the time I get into optimal of him. I flicked on my neutralizers in order to take his cap out, because for some reason, I knew he was running an active tank. Sooner than later, His tank starts to break as his capacitor is struggling to repair his armor faster than my drones can chew. My tank is holding, because he has no more drones, and no energy to fire his blasters. Predator is now the prey, or should I say... a sitting duck.

With him at my mercy, I decided that since I am an outlaw, I might as well finish him off. Besides, he attacked me first! His armor is gone, now going into structure! The heat seems to magnify by 10 times as his Dominix blows up. The heat from the explosion and the heat from the sun start to melt my fragile communication antenna. I must leave quick. Should I pod him or not? A few seconds pass, and my decision is made. He is going down. I start up my sensor booster and begin to target him. I lock onto him and engage. A quick 2 seconds it took for my drones to rip through the fragile shell of a life pod and end the life of a..... Woman? I accelerate towards the corpse and my horrors are confirmed. I don't kill women. I feel terrible and helpless about the event. I loot the wreck without looking what it holds, and put it all in my cargo hold. But nevertheless, I head back to a planet, cloaked, to absorb what just occurred.

In warp, I feel a wetness on my cheek.. A tear.. "Dammit! My first kill just had to be a woman!"
I do come to realize that had I stopped shooting her, I would be dead, and not her. The roles would be reversed.
Later that night, I pass out in the cargo hold, drunk. When I wake in the morning. I notice a strange book laying on the floor.
I began to read it... "He was... everything I had... My love, gone in an instant... I must get revenge". At this statement, I realize that behind the fury of those drones, she was a person too. A mother, a Wife, to... someone. This makes me feel worse...


A few months go by, and I've learned a few tricks of the trade. I allied myself with an outlaw corporation nearby. We do gate camps, ransoming, stealing... The whole 9 yards. Now I feel no pain when I kill. Now I feel no mercy. But I do not like it. Such emotions are acquired traits. Outlaws are made, not born. But still, the journal sits on my Nav, as a constant reminder of the person who I used to be, and the woman who used to be. I sit back and relax, as I drink a bottle of Quafe, to relieve my addiction, and continue reading the journal...