In a lonely deadspace pocket filled with asteroid remnants and forgotten prospects, a small ship was fighting for it's life. It's pilot, an eager capsuleer just fresh out of the State Military Academy, was doing everything he had been trained to do. Unfortunately, his enemy seemed to be predicting his every movement, and was steadily chewing his shields away with every shot. The pilot of the Kestrel-class frigate, Jaster Tatsuaki, from inside his fluid filled pod, was all too aware that he wasn't going to last, as his camera drones relayed every grim detail of the conflict he was stuck in. Desperate hails to the attacking ship went unanswered, and his readouts of his ship's status were not looking good. Red flags were popping up on numerous subsystems, and his shield was just about finished.
"What the hell is this guy thinking?" Quickly moving to his intercom system, he sent a message to his crew. "Alright people, we're in a fix. This bastard thinks he can just out and out attack us out of the blue, and think that we'll just sit quietly and take it. Well, if we have to give this guy our lives, let's give him hell before we go!" He could hear his crew's unified shout. Without a second's delay, he brought his weapon systems fully online, and brought the ship hard about, instantly engaging in evasive maneuvers. "All right..." He keyed up his comm system again, and sent a message to his Fire Control Officer. "Target the midsection of the ship, full missile volley." His FCO did everything he asked with all that Jaster had expected of him. Within seconds, the missiles streaked with deadly speed toward the enemy. But there was a problem. Just as his missiles found their mark, the ship was hit hard on its port side. "Damage report!" His Tech Chief relayed a long drawn out list of damaged systems, and a once-over with his camera drones showed that nearly half of his ship had just been mangled and disfigured. All his weapons were down, and he was hovering at only 50% hull strength. At first he thought his engines were gone too, but then his camera drones showed that he was tangled in the silvery energy bands of a stasis web. He had made a crucial error, in that he closed to within effective range of this simple yet efficient weapon. But in closing the range, he finally ID'd his attacker. Out of the shadow of a shattered and fragmented asteroid, loomed the quite noticeable form of Gallente Hyperion-class battleship. What struck him as odd was that the ship didn't register on his sensors. The only reason he had seen it was the trajectory of fire that was coming toward him. The other thing he saw was this ship, although Gallentean in design, had no markings that linked it to the Federation at all. He was pulled from his thoughts by a hail, seemingly coming from nowhere. Quickly he answered it.
"This is Jaster Tatsuaki of the Caldari frigate Stormwind......"
He was cut off by a quiet, yet commanding voice. "I am Tsuyoki. I care not who you are, or what your pathetic little tin can of a ship is called. The fact remains, you are a Caldarian, and thus, you must die...." Jaster was struck dumb by this statement. "And why must I die, just because of my heritage?" The reply that came was short. "Because you and the rest of the filth that is your government and people must be purged of this universe." Before he could reply again, he watched, almost as if it was in slow motion, the massive blaster turret that swiveled, fired, and split what remained of his ship in half. His pod barely had time to eject, and as he floated among the debris of his ruined ship, a grim reality dawned upon him. Although he was a capsuleer, an "immortal", he had never actually gone through the process of dying, and then awakening somewhere else. As he saw the blaster fire again, this time directed at his pod, his last thoughts before waking up in a cloning facility to the voice of "Hello, Pilot. How do you feel?" were of his lost crew, ship, and the vengeance he was going to bring to the man in the Hyperion.