My name is Ka Jolo. Like many in my family, my mystical connection with the Cosmos has taught me inventive ways of thinking, making, and doing that seem new to the races of man. My people, the Achura, have until my generation been devoted to the cultivation of our souls, imagining ourselves above the bottom-line-focused affairs of the State; all that changed when our homeworld was desecrated by pirates. Now our gaze is turned outward.
The Caldari State, ruled by a handful of mega corporations, claims me as a subject. They drafted me into their military machine, training me in Special Operations, and even now consider me their tool. But they couldn't--or didn't--stop the freebooters from committing sacrilege in the Saisio system. Now they've all but discarded me, warehousing me in the State War Academy.
This morning I reached a decision. The State has no claim on my soul. They think they've taught me efficiency, precision, planning, and persistence solely for their own profit margins; now I'm taking everything they taught me and vow to use them for my own personal gain. And if some get hurt? If men with power and fortunes don't like my actions? If other States howl at my supposed masters over what I wreak? Then maybe the mighty Caldari corporations will press me under their thumb, squashing the life out of me. Maybe. Or maybe they'll find me too expensive to bother with, just as the thugs who blasphemed my home were deemed to powerful to deflect given their negligible impact on someone's profit-and-loss chart. We'll see.
Today, I begin thinking like a pirate.