Frost Thiesant

Born in the glittering spires of Gallente Prime’s upper strata, I learned early that “freedom” and “democracy” are just the brand names the megacorps slap on their latest line of control. While the pant-suited technocrats in Villore toast each other for “empowering women and minorities” (right before they sell another batch of booster-addicted voters to the highest bidder), I took my trust fund, bought a navy-issue Dominix, and never looked back.


These days the Senate’s idea of courage is passing another performative hate-speech law while the Serpentis flood our borders with product and the Caldari carve up our outer regions. So I do what the Federation used to do best: I burn the rulebook, I fly ugly, effective ships, and I shoot anyone flying under a flag of convenience—whether it’s black-and-gold Serpentis colors or the pastel power-suits of Federation “leadership.”I’m still Gallente. I just refuse to let the girl-boss junta in Luminaire speak for me. Intaki separatists call me a federation loyalist. Federal loyalists call me a dangerous anarchist.
Both are right.
Deal with it.