Meet the Rebels - Starwalker Shikkoken
Jumping into the mind of New Eden's criminal combat pilots, the Black Rebel Rifter Club has decided to distribute into the public domain a series of standardised press interviews that were recently conducted at various locations across the cluster. The following short transcripts are in the words of the journalist who conducted the meetings and their identities have been hidden by request.
MB.
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Having never met a 'Black Rebel' before this first meeting I must admit to being swayed towards the stereotypical image that had been building in my head. I had heard of their reported dislike of all things that are clean and in good order, and of their unwashed ways and bad habits, their fondness for the demon drink and narcotics. Generally speaking, the tales I had heard so far had also led me to believe that the Black Rebels are some kind of fanatical Minmatar splinter group, big and nasty Brutors, gunslingers and brawlers, not the kind of guys you want to be meeting with in a dingy station-side bar in some region of space you'd never been to before.
Security to the bar consisted of a walk-through weapon scanner, as I passed through the light above my head blipped green illuminating the dark hallway for a brief moment, the large metal and somewhat weathered heavy door in front of me slid open gracefully. The bar was not busy by any stretch of the imagination, the capsuleers in the establishment were easily noticeable, their God-like status resounding around them like an aura. Civilians mingled with these heroes, day-shift workers chatted between themselves after their hard day at the pumps and everything felt calm for this time of day, early evening. The room was full of noise, chatter droned into one uniformed noise.
I spotted a small group sat around a digital gaming table, one nearly empty bottle of brown liquor the centre piece of their conversation, the game of miniature electronic frigate combat long since finished and fading before them. I knew these guys were the Rebels from the moment I set eyes on them, four of them, all capsuleers, three very distinct looking Brutors and a Caldari, possibly of Civire caste, at the time I couldn't be sure. Clad in heavy black clothing they stood out from the rest of the clientèle but I wouldn't have on first glance fobbed these guys off as dirty, they seemed to me, stylish. Stylish killers.
The Caldari guy was the first to notice my presence. Tall and with striking coiffured blonde locks that wouldn't have looked out of place in a movie, he was cleanly shaven but for a well trimmed goatee beard and he was walking towards me. A single bead of cold sweat ran down the back of my spine as he offered out his hand.
'Hi, we've been expecting you. I'm Starwalker and I'll be first up for your questions'......
Starwalker Shikkoken is a pilot with an unknown past and uncertain future. He emerged from a clone vat only 4 months ago with two distinguishing marks: a penal colony tattoo and a scar on his forehead. Starwalker doesn’t know how he got those marks but he knows it must be related to his desire to kill things.
Starwalker started running missions for his corporate Caldari masters to earn ISK but he soon became bored. He quickly found that he liked to kill things but wanted to choose his own targets, to not be told who to kill and where to kill them. Killing on command was good but killing on his own command would be better so Starwalker simply left the corporation he was contracted to. He wandered down to Essence and found a bar fight in progress where some black jacketed scumbags were causing trouble with the locals. Starwalker looked at his own black jacket and felt an affinity as these punk-like black jackets beat the locals into submission. The leader of the black jackets looked at Starwalker and paused... after an appraising look he said “We are going to Everyshore looking for a fight – do you want to come?” The answer came in a heartbeat – yes.
It doesn’t matter.
Starwalker was home: Black Rebels had no rules, no commands to do anything or be anywhere. Black Rebels make their own rules, choose their own path and do what they want where they want. Starwalker wants to hunt, to kill and to make ISK for killer ships.
There are no rules but the Rebels share a common trait – they rebel against rules, no one tells a Rebel what to do, including whether to have a tattoo or not. They want the freedom to do what they want and where they want but more than that – they take it. Like-minded Rebels will naturally find each other and some of them may demonstrate a liking for tattoos.
The ship of choice for a Black Rebel because it is fast, flexible and expendable. It is a cost efficient killing machine that will give great service and repay the pilots love and attention. Everyone remembers their first love, there will be other loves but the Rifter will always be the first.
No. Some Black Rebels are cool and sophisticated scumbags, whose only goal in life is to terrorize those they tag as ‘the enemy’.
Going around New Eden alone is good and there is a time and place for that but also going around with other Black Rebels is cool; it is like being part of a brotherhood. To share in the search for the next kill, the excitement of the hunt or the delight of a kill, to share ideas or to discuss the fit of your next killer ship or simply to chat about recent events such as the Alliance Tournament 9 finals.
Rebels are often out hunting in either a small gang or solo, looking for war targets or for a fight in lowsec or anywhere else for that matter. There are no restrictions so fun can be had can-flipping, ransoming, stealing or ninja salvaging or even doing something more mundane like taking care of making some ISK or adjusting security status via ratting. Life is good – do what you want where you want. Ernest Hemingway wrote: “There is no hunting like the hunting of man, and those who have hunted armed men long enough and liked it, never care for anything else thereafter.”
MB.
___
Having never met a 'Black Rebel' before this first meeting I must admit to being swayed towards the stereotypical image that had been building in my head. I had heard of their reported dislike of all things that are clean and in good order, and of their unwashed ways and bad habits, their fondness for the demon drink and narcotics. Generally speaking, the tales I had heard so far had also led me to believe that the Black Rebels are some kind of fanatical Minmatar splinter group, big and nasty Brutors, gunslingers and brawlers, not the kind of guys you want to be meeting with in a dingy station-side bar in some region of space you'd never been to before.
Security to the bar consisted of a walk-through weapon scanner, as I passed through the light above my head blipped green illuminating the dark hallway for a brief moment, the large metal and somewhat weathered heavy door in front of me slid open gracefully. The bar was not busy by any stretch of the imagination, the capsuleers in the establishment were easily noticeable, their God-like status resounding around them like an aura. Civilians mingled with these heroes, day-shift workers chatted between themselves after their hard day at the pumps and everything felt calm for this time of day, early evening. The room was full of noise, chatter droned into one uniformed noise.
I spotted a small group sat around a digital gaming table, one nearly empty bottle of brown liquor the centre piece of their conversation, the game of miniature electronic frigate combat long since finished and fading before them. I knew these guys were the Rebels from the moment I set eyes on them, four of them, all capsuleers, three very distinct looking Brutors and a Caldari, possibly of Civire caste, at the time I couldn't be sure. Clad in heavy black clothing they stood out from the rest of the clientèle but I wouldn't have on first glance fobbed these guys off as dirty, they seemed to me, stylish. Stylish killers.
The Caldari guy was the first to notice my presence. Tall and with striking coiffured blonde locks that wouldn't have looked out of place in a movie, he was cleanly shaven but for a well trimmed goatee beard and he was walking towards me. A single bead of cold sweat ran down the back of my spine as he offered out his hand.
'Hi, we've been expecting you. I'm Starwalker and I'll be first up for your questions'......
 |
| Starwalker Shikkoken |
Tell us a little bit about your background in New Eden.
Starwalker Shikkoken is a pilot with an unknown past and uncertain future. He emerged from a clone vat only 4 months ago with two distinguishing marks: a penal colony tattoo and a scar on his forehead. Starwalker doesn’t know how he got those marks but he knows it must be related to his desire to kill things.
How did you become a Black Rebel?
Starwalker started running missions for his corporate Caldari masters to earn ISK but he soon became bored. He quickly found that he liked to kill things but wanted to choose his own targets, to not be told who to kill and where to kill them. Killing on command was good but killing on his own command would be better so Starwalker simply left the corporation he was contracted to. He wandered down to Essence and found a bar fight in progress where some black jacketed scumbags were causing trouble with the locals. Starwalker looked at his own black jacket and felt an affinity as these punk-like black jackets beat the locals into submission. The leader of the black jackets looked at Starwalker and paused... after an appraising look he said “We are going to Everyshore looking for a fight – do you want to come?” The answer came in a heartbeat – yes.
What were you doing before you joined the Black Rebels?
It doesn’t matter.
What is a Black Rebel?
Starwalker was home: Black Rebels had no rules, no commands to do anything or be anywhere. Black Rebels make their own rules, choose their own path and do what they want where they want. Starwalker wants to hunt, to kill and to make ISK for killer ships.
Is it true you need a tattoo to be considered for entry?
There are no rules but the Rebels share a common trait – they rebel against rules, no one tells a Rebel what to do, including whether to have a tattoo or not. They want the freedom to do what they want and where they want but more than that – they take it. Like-minded Rebels will naturally find each other and some of them may demonstrate a liking for tattoos.
The Rifter, tell me more?
The ship of choice for a Black Rebel because it is fast, flexible and expendable. It is a cost efficient killing machine that will give great service and repay the pilots love and attention. Everyone remembers their first love, there will be other loves but the Rifter will always be the first.
Are all Black Rebels unwashed scumbags whose only goal in life is to terrorize those they tag as 'the enemy'?
No. Some Black Rebels are cool and sophisticated scumbags, whose only goal in life is to terrorize those they tag as ‘the enemy’.
Tell me about your corpmates?
Going around New Eden alone is good and there is a time and place for that but also going around with other Black Rebels is cool; it is like being part of a brotherhood. To share in the search for the next kill, the excitement of the hunt or the delight of a kill, to share ideas or to discuss the fit of your next killer ship or simply to chat about recent events such as the Alliance Tournament 9 finals.
Describe a typical day in the life of a Rebel.
Rebels are often out hunting in either a small gang or solo, looking for war targets or for a fight in lowsec or anywhere else for that matter. There are no restrictions so fun can be had can-flipping, ransoming, stealing or ninja salvaging or even doing something more mundane like taking care of making some ISK or adjusting security status via ratting. Life is good – do what you want where you want. Ernest Hemingway wrote: “There is no hunting like the hunting of man, and those who have hunted armed men long enough and liked it, never care for anything else thereafter.”
End of transcript. ////
