Character: Gerard Amatin
Gallente
Gallente
4.08
Last Active:
2 days ago
Birthday:
May 2, 2017 (8 years old)
Next Birthday:
May 2, 2026 (177 days remaining)
Corporation: Brave Newbies Inc.
Alliance: Brave Collective

Combat Metrics

Kills
1,882
Losses
231
Efficiency
89.1%
Danger Ratio
89.1%

ISK Metrics

ISK Killed
1101.80B ISK
ISK Lost
15.08B ISK
ISK Efficiency
98.7%
ISK Balance
1086.72B ISK

Solo Activity

Solo Kills
54
Solo Losses
76
Solo Kill Ratio
2.9%
Solo Efficiency
41.5%

Other Metrics

NPC Losses
15
NPC Loss Ratio
6.5
Avg. Kills/Day
0.6
Activity
Very High

Character Biography

*incomprehensible jumble*

No, those are not words you read - what you see appears to be a few blocks of characters unlike any language you know. It does not even *look* like a language.

Is it encrypted perhaps?

No sooner have you thought that out loud than your onboard computer Aura starts translating:


*start of transmission*

To whoever reads this, I require help!

My life's full story is not relevant - I won't bother you with it. But today's events are different! It is early in the year YC123 on a small well-stocked yet otherwise deserted base on the temperate planet in the remote system GE-8JV that I am approached by one of those 'capsuleers'.

This capsuleer came here with a purpose: to look for me. Upon removal of their helmet I see my face. My own face! And he introduces himself with my name! Shocked I listen to the capsuleer who stole my appearance and name as he starts talking.

After a lengthy monologue, mostly drowned out by threatening explosions that destroy all my means of communication and transportation in this otherwise peaceful tropical paradise, I only recall hearing the phrases "cloning", "identity theft", "intact armor plates" and "please write something for our biography on this device before my ship is out of transmission range if you want me to keep your remaining infrastructure intact".

Taking the hint, I immediately start writing as 'Gerard Amatin' turns and leaves for his ship.

It is a perilous situation. Stuck on this planet with no other means of communication I am in desperate need of your help; I expect that in approximately 5 years I will run out of spiced wine and—-

*end of transmission*

Stats (90d)