I was born Amarrian. That is who I am. I was not born as Leo d’Green, but that is who I am, anyway. I am sure you will understand… In what I do, enemies abound, and I still have in my heart a love for my family. By choosing a new name, I am choosing to protect them, at least in this respect. Besides, I am no longer who I was, so the new name is fitting.

As I have said, I was born Amarrian, and raised Amarrian. My parents, neither rich nor poor, lived, and still live, their lives, unnoticed among the multitudes crowding the worlds and the stations of the Penirgman system, content with their place, loyal subjects of the Empire. It isn’t hard to imagine their happiness and the pride they felt when their firstborn son was selected to attend the Imperial Academy School at Chaven VIII-1, to train to become no less than a pod pilot, for the greater glory of the Empire. At that time, I shared their pride.

I survived the training with my mind mostly intact. I even found some joy in things that broke the people whom, in my proper Amarrian beliefs, I thought my betters. I, the son of a lowly bureaucrat and his craftswoman wife, succeeded where the scions of exalted bloodlines and ancient families failed. But at that time, I had too much work on my hands to allow for the luxury of pursuing that line of thought any further.

I graduated, still full of ideals of my youth. The rejection of my application to the Imperial Navy was a blow, but still, they accepted my services as an independent operative. Until the Navy agent I was working for asked for narcotics, for himself and his associates, and thus delivered the second blow to my faith.

I fled to the Gallente Federation. I didn’t find the consolation I was looking for, but it did serve as something of an eye-opener. I found more questions than answers, but even the questions turned out to be answers. Of a kind. It is ironic, but it was the Gallente who really proved to me that Heideran VII was right. Peace brings order, and the prosperity follows in their footsteps.

I returned to the Empire determined to make a difference. Don’t get me wrong, I have no delusions of grandeur. I don’t expect my piercing gaze and divinely inspired words to change the hearts of men… Lasers (and whatever other weapons one might chose to use) might. But lasers are nothing without the dedication of men, and I looked for such men. Curiously, I found them quickly, and I found them in an unexpected place. Imperial loyalist paramilitaries weren’t my first choice, but they turned out to be the best one. They have the lasers, and they have the dedication. So I joined the Curatores Veritatis Alliance. The keepers of truth, in more ways than they know it.

I also found a new home, a new family. And a cause, a fight worth dying for. Thanks to the wonders of technology, I have died for it, and am given a chance to die for it again. Peace through death… Ironic, isn’t it?