- Kills
- 169
- +0 in the last 90 days
- Losses
- 84
- +0 in the last 90 days
- Efficiency
- ISK Efficiency 75%
- ISK destroyed
- 42.99B
- +0 in the last 90 days
- Activity
- Inactive
- 0 kills/day · last 90 days
Combat Record
Career-long numbers from eve-kill
Combat
- Kills
- 169
- Losses
- 84
- Danger Ratio
- 49%
- Final Blows
- 145
- Points
- 793
ISK
- Destroyed
- 42.99B
- Lost
- 14.56B
- Balance
- +28.43B
- ISK Efficiency
- 75%
Solo
- Solo Kills
- 108
- Solo Ratio
- 64%
- Avg Kills/Day
- —
Other
- NPC Losses
- 43
- NPC Loss Ratio
- 51%
- Activity
- Inactive
Damage Dealt623.3K
Damage Ratio · 44%
Damage Taken801.8K
Activity
What they fly, where they fight, latest kills and losses
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
Impact Lockie Kill: Side Liner (Capsule)
No official record marks his origin. The earliest traces of his name surface in fragmented kill reports and corrupted transmissions drifting through the lawless systems of New Eden. Ships didn’t just vanish where he operated they were erased, their wreckage picked clean with surgical precision, their crews left to suffocate in the cold silence between stars.
He began as something insignificant a capsuleer among thousands, another immortal chasing ISK and glory. But something in him fractured early. Where others saw opportunity, Lockie saw dominion. Where others fought for survival, he hunted for control. The transition from pilot to predator was not gradual. It was absolute.
Impact Lockie became a pirate not for profit, but for the ritual of it.
He stalked trade routes like a patient disease, studying patterns, habits, weaknesses. His attacks were never rushed. Victims would often report strange anomalies before their destruction brief sensor distortions, ghost signals, engines failing without cause. By the time Lockie decloaked, it was already over. Panic would set in. Comms would flood. Then silence.
He preferred to watch.
Survivors rare as they were spoke of his voice: calm, almost disinterested, as if the destruction unfolding was beneath him. He would sometimes open a channel mid ambush, not to negotiate, but to observe the fear. To measure it. To understand it.
Ransoms were inconsistent. Sometimes he demanded everything. Sometimes nothing at all. Entire fleets have been obliterated without a single ISK requested, their destruction serving no visible purpose beyond feeding whatever void had taken root inside him.
No official record marks his origin. The earliest traces of his name surface in fragmented kill reports and corrupted transmissions drifting through the lawless systems of New Eden. Ships didn’t just vanish where he operated they were erased, their wreckage picked clean with surgical precision, their crews left to suffocate in the cold silence between stars.
He began as something insignificant a capsuleer among thousands, another immortal chasing ISK and glory. But something in him fractured early. Where others saw opportunity, Lockie saw dominion. Where others fought for survival, he hunted for control. The transition from pilot to predator was not gradual. It was absolute.
Impact Lockie became a pirate not for profit, but for the ritual of it.
He stalked trade routes like a patient disease, studying patterns, habits, weaknesses. His attacks were never rushed. Victims would often report strange anomalies before their destruction brief sensor distortions, ghost signals, engines failing without cause. By the time Lockie decloaked, it was already over. Panic would set in. Comms would flood. Then silence.
He preferred to watch.
Survivors rare as they were spoke of his voice: calm, almost disinterested, as if the destruction unfolding was beneath him. He would sometimes open a channel mid ambush, not to negotiate, but to observe the fear. To measure it. To understand it.
Ransoms were inconsistent. Sometimes he demanded everything. Sometimes nothing at all. Entire fleets have been obliterated without a single ISK requested, their destruction serving no visible purpose beyond feeding whatever void had taken root inside him.