HTXCRASH420

Subject: Crash
Callsign: "The Hawk"
Affiliation: Founder of the CMDCO Industrial Militia
Location: Unknown

Crash does not remember his original birth. Every time his skull is crushed by kinetic impact or cooked by thermal radiation, he simply wakes up in a new vat of cold amniotic fluid, his mind screaming with the phantom agonizing memories of his previous deaths.

He was once a high-performing security pilot for the Caldari State. But that was several clones ago.

They didn't just want the tech; they wanted a bloodbath. Crash watched in horror through his tactical overview as the pirates boarded the crippled industrial ships and manually dragged his crew out of their breached hulls. They hacked the comms to force the remnants of the fleet to listen to the gargled screams of his wingmen as they were dismembered alive on camera before being thrown into the vacuum. Then, they blew HTX's ship apart and watched him freeze.

The State called it a "calculated risk" and refused to authorize a retaliation strike.

So Crash went rogue. He cashed out his corporate contracts, bought a heavily modified Hawk-class assault frigate, and began synthesizing high-grade pyro booster drugs in a dark, blood-stained hangar.

Now, Crash is building the CMDCO Industrial Militia. It is a war machine designed to fund a private genocide against the Guristas. He uses brutal, unforgiving industrial mining operations to fund his massive supply of missiles and illegal combat boosters.

He floods his clone's nervous system with volatile pyro boosters, pushing his reaction times and missile yields far beyond human limits as his blood literally boils in his veins. Flying his Hawk, he locks onto Guristas targets and unloads on their hulls with a relentless, violent barrage of scourge missiles.

He does not look for clean kills. He uses kinetic missiles to shatter their shields and thermal warheads to cook the pirates alive inside their own cockpits, turning their metal hulls into roasting ovens. Once the ship explodes, Crash doesn't let them escape. He locks onto their escape pods, overrides the safeties, and blasts them apart—watching the pilot's guts and frozen blood crystallize in the blackness of space.

Crash knows he will likely die again. But as long as there is another clone waiting in the vats and a fresh batch of pyro in his veins, the Guristas will pay.