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Tom-BS070.00
Pilot

Tom-BS07

AmarrKhanid
Killboard
Kills
4
+0 in the last 90 days
Losses
5
+0 in the last 90 days
44%
Efficiency
ISK Efficiency 99%
ISK destroyed
3.56B
+0 in the last 90 days
Activity
Inactive
0 kills/day · last 90 days

Combat Record

Career-long numbers from eve-kill

Combat

Kills
4
Losses
5
Danger Ratio
100%
Final Blows
3
Points
3

ISK

Destroyed
3.56B
Lost
45.5M
Balance
+3.52B
ISK Efficiency
99%

Solo

Solo Kills
2
Solo Ratio
50%
Avg Kills/Day
—

Other

NPC Losses
0
NPC Loss Ratio
0%
Activity
Inactive
Damage Dealt63.5K
Damage Ratio · 95%
Damage Taken3.4K

Activity

What they fly, where they fight, latest kills and losses

ShipsLast 90d
SystemsLast 90d
Latest killsKillboard
Latest lossesKillboard

Most Valuable

The priciest kills in the window

Matchups

Who they kill, who kills them, what they lose

Last 90d
Killed
Killed By
Hulls LostLosses broken down by hull class.

In-game bio

Out past the mapped constellations, beyond the polite lies of known space, there is a silence that hums.

They call it the Black Signal.

It wasn’t discovered—no one claims that. It arrived. First as a distortion in long-range comms, a smear of impossible frequencies that shouldn’t exist in any spectrum. Ships reported hearing it differently: a low pulse like a heartbeat, a whisper in forgotten languages, or nothing at all—just a growing sense that something was listening back.

The Signal does not travel. It propagates without motion, appearing simultaneously in distant sectors light-years apart. Attempts to triangulate its source have failed. Every coordinate leads further outward, as if the universe itself is pointing away from something it fears.

Stations that study it don’t last.

Logs recovered from abandoned outposts describe equipment behaving… thoughtfully. Navigation systems plotting routes no one entered. Airlocks opening to empty space. Crew members speaking in synchronized patterns, repeating fragments of a message no one remembers learning.

“We are already inside.”

That phrase appears in nearly every corrupted log.

The Black Signal doesn’t infect machines. It doesn’t hijack biology. It alters perception—rewriting the boundary between observer and observed. Those exposed long enough begin to lose the distinction between their own thoughts and something else layered beneath them. Not controlling. Not guiding. Just… present.

Waiting.

Some factions believe the Signal is a relic of a civilization that outgrew physical form—an echo of minds too vast to remain contained. Others claim it is a warning, a cosmic quarantine marker meant to keep us from crossing a threshold we don’t understand.

But a smaller, quieter group holds a more unsettling theory:

The Signal is not coming from outside the galaxy.

It is coming from the future.

Every attempt to block it has failed. Every effort to decode it brings it closer, clearer, more personal. As if it is learning how to be understood.

And now, in the deepest channels of secure networks, a new variation has begun to surface. Not static. Not noise.

A reply.

“We hear you.”

No one remembers sending the first message.