Imgonnagetya

I am Imgonnagetya, a daughter of the Amarr Empire, forged in the crucible of divine will and tempered by the sacred traditions of our golden civilization. Born into a noble family on the hallowed planet of Amarr Prime, I was raised in the shadow of the Emperor’s Cathedral, where the air hums with the righteousness of our faith. My blood sings with the purity of Amarr lineage, a legacy of order and divine purpose that stretches back through the ages. From my earliest days, I was taught that we, the chosen, are the shepherds of New Eden, tasked by God to bring light to the benighted masses—whether they kneel willingly or require the firm hand of correction.

The Minmatar, those brutish tribes scrabbling in the dust of their shattered worlds, are a testament to the chaos that festers without Amarr guidance. Their so-called "freedom" is nothing but savagery dressed in rags, a rebellion against the natural order. I’ve seen their kind—wild-eyed, unkempt, barely a step above beasts. It’s no wonder they needed our chains to teach them purpose. And the Gallente? Pfft. Their decadence is a poison, a syrupy veneer of liberty that masks cowardice and moral rot. They prance about their pleasure hubs, preaching equality while their society crumbles under the weight of their own excesses. I’d sooner trust a Sansha drone than a Gallente diplomat.

As a capsuleer, I’ve taken to the stars to uphold the Amarr way, my Punisher-class frigate a gleaming blade of divine retribution. My path was set when I graduated from the Imperial Academy, my heart alight with the fire of our sacred mission. I command my ship with the same authority I wield over my household, where my slaves—carefully selected, of course—serve as a living testament to the Empire’s wisdom. There’s a particular satisfaction in owning Minmatar slaves, you know. Their strength, once so misdirected in their futile rebellions, finds true purpose under my roof. Some might call it cruel, but I see it as salvation—taking their raw, untamed nature and molding it to serve a higher cause.

I confess a certain… fondness for a few of my Minmatar acquisitions. The ones I keep closest, those fiery souls with eyes that still spark with defiance, are a private indulgence. Their spirit, though broken to my will, adds a certain thrill to my evenings in the captain’s quarters. I treat them well, of course—better than they’d fare in their tribal slums—but they know their place. It’s a delicate balance.