From Rust to Revelation

For seven years I walked the star-lanes of the Republic. My life was bound to the Minmatar cause, and in that oath I spilled blood and bent metal. Sometimes I stood shoulder to shoulder with my kin, hurling fire at the slavers of Amarr. Other times, my contribution was quieter — the mining of ore, the hauling of goods, the forging of ammunition so that others could carry the fight. The Republic was not just a flag to me. It was home, and I bore its rust with pride.

But time wears even on iron. Wars blurred into one another, and I found myself asking what freedom meant when it was only ever defended, never lived. The victories were hollow, the defeats numbing. In the silence between battles, I felt a question rise that the Republic could not answer: what is my purpose beyond the fight?

It was in that silence that I found the Mandate. The Ammatar are whispered of in the Republic as traitors, but what I discovered was not treachery — it was providence. Where my people saw chains, I saw order. Where they spoke of betrayal, I found devotion. Through the Ammatar Mandate, my path led to Societas Imperialis Sceptri Coronaeque, and there I discovered a deeper calling.

Here, in the sacred rhythm of mining, I found more than work. I found communion. The hum of the laser is a prayer; the drifting asteroids, ancient and patient, are scripture written in stone. As I strip the raw ores from the void, I strip away the weight of old battles, the scars of old loyalties. Each fragment of rock carries meaning, a reminder that creation and sustenance are as sacred as conquest. In this stillness, I hear the voice of the Mandate, guiding, steadying, sanctifying the life of a capsuleer beyond blood and fire.

I do not deny my past. The blood of the Tribes still runs in me, and I will not curse the years I gave to the Republic. But I have chosen another road, and in this new devotion, I have found the solace, the purpose, and the spiritual clarity I long sought.

New Eden is vast, and loyalty is not a chain. It is a covenant — a sacred choice. This is mine.