Agent Norkoff

One of my favorite past times half a year back was reading the Taxman journals.

They are written by the pirate Vladimir Norkoff who runs a solo operation called Income Redistribution Service (IRS). I have been unable to locate if he has a blog anywhere so I have taken it upon me to bring it to the blog sphere. And these stories are that great that they need a page of their own.

My thanks and respect to Agent Norkoff.

You will find the original stories here

In an age of darkness…

At a time of crisis…

When the winds of war sweep across the four great Empires of Man…

In this era of woe, few are willing to take a stand for justice.

Few will fight to right the fiscal wrongs that afflict mankind.

Few are willing to walk the thankless path of tax collection.

We are those few.

We are the IRS.

These are our logs…

The Taxman Cometh

Audit Log 20070711.0347 – The audit on suspect corporation Northern Star Enterprises (NSENT) has only just begun and has already taken a sour turn. The forty NSENT audit suspects are attempting to flee the constellation. Surveillance of their corporate headquarters by our only tax agent (myself) has resulted in the interception of one NSENT employee by the name of Trocan. Upon notification of tax code violation and demand to eject from ship, suspect commenced hostile action upon IRS agent, resulting in the complete destruction of suspect’s ship. NSENT fined for resisting an audit and ship destruction registered in Redistributed Assets column. NSENT now shows past due tax obligations and associated fines of 102,000,000 ISK.

However, the tax violations of NSENT may only be the tip of the iceberg. Ominous forces appear to be moving behind the scenes as the investigation progresses. Agent Norkoff (myself) was approached by a shady pin-striped individual who identified himself only as “Dark Klotz”. Klotz indicated that he represented Combined Planetary Union (CPU) a “large concern with many powerful friends”. Varing between subtle threats and blatant bribery, Klotz indicated that it would be in the IRS’s best interest to cease it’s audit of NSENT. Further investigative questioning by Agent Norkoff resulted in Klotz letting slip that NSENT may be joining the CPU conglomerate. (Suspicion – May indicate that NSENT has been a front for CPU all along?) However, the question arises – Why would CPU value a 40-man corporation that flees from a single tax agent? What dark secret does NSENT hold that the conglomerate would put so much effort into keeping it safe? Agent Norkoff recommends that he redoubled his efforts in the investigation to get to the bottom of the matter.

Audit Log 20070711.1532 – Pulled up in front of the NSENT headquarters to continue surveillance. Immediately identified Bambuu and Rubino, a pair of leather-slave nancyboys I’ve seen trolling around hangar bays looking for grizzled miners to take home. Came sashaying out in matching Drakes like they were bought in some chintzy couples catalogue. Deviants. Initiated stage one audit procedures, subjects responded with aggressive posturing. Proceeded to stage two audit. Unable to break the suspects’ tanks with standard issue equipment, decided to pull out the heavy heat. Both suspects docked and presumably called for reinforcements which arrived in the form of one icecream suited midget in an Enyo. Evgan Kerserki by name. Midget suspect immediately initiated hostile action, but fled within moments, evading pursuit. Continued surveillance.

Audit Log 20070712.0607 – The surveillance of the NSENT headquarters continues. Constant vigilance resulted in the identification of another NSENT criminal, Lt Pheonix in a Drake. Suspect immediately engaged Agent Norkoff’s Myrmidon. Exchange of fire resulted in heavy damage to NSENT Drake. Second NSENT suspect appeared in the form of a single Merlin piloted by NSENT employee Trocan. NSENT Merlin subsequently destroyed while resisting audit, however suspect Drake escaped capture. Recalculation of NSENT fines and charges currently stands at 101,000,000 ISK. Furthermore, Agent Norkoff reccommends fitting of longer range warp disruptors on all IRS ships.

Audit Log 20070713.1634 – Conducting reconnaisance of Mito constellation in a Thorax. Identified the NSENT deviant Rubino in a Drake, amazingly not docked at NSENT headquarters. Plus, deviant is curiously without his/her(?) partner. Pursuit results in encounter with suspect outside station. Though outmatched, Agent Norkoff immediately engages. Drones initially inflict heavy damage on NSENT Drake, possibly indicating poor engineering skills or rampant stupidity. Furthermore, damage from suspect appears remarkably low for fully equipped battlecruiser. Suddenly, the second NSENT deviant Bambuu appears in local comm net and undocks from station! Damage output from deviant Rubino increase dramatically! Ambush! Glare from missile trails cover the screen. The nancyboy Drakes seem much less an amusing spectacle from a surveillance cruiser. Recall drones, engage drives to escape! Scrambled! Microwarp can’t accelerate fast enough. Repairer can’t keep up. Docking manager bribed to ignore comm channels! Thorax buckles under the impact of missiles and explodes. Agent Norkoff warps to safety in pod, while the deviants saunter to the wreckage. Grim day for the IRS. Humiliated by a pair of freaks! Current NSENT fines and charges at 109,000,000 ISK.

Audit Log 20070715.2311 – Continued surveillance of NSENT headquarters in a ProbeDomi(tm) in order to identify any transgressions of the tax code. Multiple NSENT employees began appearing in Drakes, Raven, Hyperion, Blackbird, and a frigate or two. Audit process lead to immediate hostile resistance, resulting in fines and the loss of one NSENT frigate. Further pursuit lead to inconclusive battles near the Otsasai jumpgate and Navy Assembly Yards. Agent Norkoff warped to P5 observation point and wandered to back of ship to relieve himself only to be interuppted by apparent asteroid strikes.

Returning to cabin Agent Norkoff noticed that the holo-vid SpaceAce Flashy Flashman IV: Return of SpaceAce was playing on the main viewscreen. In particular, the scene where Flashy’s sidekick is surrounded and massacred by Caldari corporate thugs. Which was distinctly odd, as Agent Norkoff did not recall starting any vids before relieving himself. With dawning horror Agent Norkoff realized that it was not a holovid.

The NSENT criminals had somehow quickly tracked down the observation point! Already taking armor damage, Agent Norkoff deployed drones, engaged repair systems, and took a quick appraisal of the situation. 4 Drakes, 2 Interceptors, Blackbird, and Raven, all at point blank range. Raven chosen as primary and quickly began withering under fire from the drones. However, the IRS Dominix suffered heavily as well from over 30 heavy missile launchers – halfway thru armor and Raven’s shields broken. Raven into armor! Raven has plate. Great.

Dominix armor reppers can’t keep up, dipping into structure – Raven’s armor being shredded and attempting to run. Halfway into structure, Raven hitting structure as well and falling fast. Quarter structure. Really wish these reppers could overheat. Raven is halfway. Just need a few more seconds.

Domi disintegrates in a fiery explosion, Agent Norkoff warps to safety, and the flaming hull of the Raven survives to limp away. The NSENT savages proceed to beat their chests and dance around the wreck like… well… savages. Current NSENT charges and fines stand at 220,000,000 ISK.

Audit Log 20070716.0214 – Following the destruction of the agency’s ProbeDomi, the NSENT criminals appear to feel they have free reign of the constellation. A delusion they must be quickly disabused of. Surveillance indicates NSENT Moa piloted by leatherslave Bambuu has left system. Local contacts identify deviant’s location, and logic dictates most probable return route. Pull Myrmidon from previous “employment” out of storage, prime systems, warp to jumpgate. Minutes pass.

Eventually the gate activates and Bambuu’s transponder signal appears in local comm channel. Sensor boosters engaged. Five seconds pass. Nothing appears. 10 seconds. 15 seconds. Agent Norkoff smiles wolfishly. 20 seconds. Sentry drones deployed. CreoDron Gardes, standard issue. 30 seconds. Finally the Moa uncloaks with a screech. Targeting systems lock instantly. The Moa’s shields disappear in the first volley of rail slugs and drone plasma bolts. The Moa pivots towards the gate, signature radius blossoming as it engages it’s microwarp in a futile attempt to run back to the gate. Perfect railgun strikes punch through the Moa’s armor, flames jetting out the exit holes. With the third volley, 9 seconds after uncloaking, the Moa disintegrates into wreckage and a lonely pod. Targeters lock, pod scrambled.

Suspect Bambuu – Employee of suspect corporation; multiple counts of resisting audit; involved in destruction of beloved IRS battleship. Terminal sanction. Railguns ripple in volley.

Audit Log 20070719.1643 – That last few days have been eventful, to say the least. A few small skirmishes have lead to the loss of an NSENT frigate and hauler, and the impound of 125K m3 of Plagioclase. However, for the most part the NSENT employees have begun hiding in higher sec systems, where they have obviously bribed corrupt forces in both Concord and the Caldari State to shoot IRS agents on sight. It is a shameful day when you can’t even trust your own government.

The NSENT bribes extended even further into Concord than previously expected. Corrupt Concord bureaucrats oppossed the IRS audit on NSENT, citing some archaic and byzantine precedents from the Yulai Conventions. Audit applications resubmitted and filed.

Unfortunately, the illegal action by Concord and their subsequent extortive “legal fees” imposed a slight delay on the audit process. A delay which allowed NSENT to officially merge with their shadowy overlords – Combined Planetary Union (CPU). 23 corporations, 473 members. A crime syndicate spanning the galaxy, using fear, intimidation, and money to get their way. A smug letter from a weasely corrupt Concord clerk informed the agency that hostilities would begin in 24 hours. An overwhelming foe. A bribed police regime. Extortive legal fees meant to crush any resistance. There is no shame in cancelling an audit under such conditions.

But the IRS does not waver from their path. The IRS does not shirk it’s duty. The IRS does allow any corporation, no matter how powerful or influential, to neglect their tax obligations. The audit will continue. Past due fees will be collected.

And yet still, the Concord trickery continued. A mere two hours after receiving the letter hostilities commenced. Local commchat filled with red. Various skirmishes ensued over the course of the following 12 hours resulting in the loss of one CPU Blackbird and no IRS losses.

Current CPU/NSENT taxes and fines stand at 203,000,000 ISK.

Audit Log 20070720.2021 – The past 24 hours of the expanded audit on NSENT/CPU has been a marked change from the previous week. Notably in the number of suspects resisting audit. Which unfortunately is reflective of the current sad state of the State. The most recent skirmish exemplifies the need for closed borders and increased restrictions on immigration control.

In this particular case, it was two individuals by the names of Padraig Oriley and Ryan Thiradeaux. Whatever happened to proper Caldari names like D34THST4LK3R, ikillurface, or Vladimir Norkoff? I’ll tell you what happened, we let social parasites like these two into our space. One can obviously tell just by their names that they are illegal, border-crossing, day-laborers here to steal our industrial jobs, mine our veldspar, salvage our wrecks, and violate our women with their ridiculously large epeens. And on top of all that, they don’t pay their taxes!

In any case, these two beltmonkies showed up in a Rifter and a Ferox about 100km out from the IRS Myrmidon. The Paddy in the Rifter immediately approached under microwarp and engaged at a 2km orbit. A few seconds of nos reduced the Rifter to a reasonable speed, and a subsequent web dropped it further to audit speed. Then sent comm transmission requesting ejection from ship via standard autocannon channels. The Mick complied in a fiery explosion. Follow-up request to report to his clone bay was complied with as well. By this time, the Frog had managed to get within 80km, at which point he promptly warped away.

Subsequent inspection of the Rifter identifed numerous T2 modules. Most likely stolen. Illegals working as busboys or gardeners can’t afford decent gear. Instead they corpthieve and joyride the ships into combat without appropriate back-up. Disgusting. Pity we couldn’t return it to it’s rightful owner.

Current NSENT/CPU taxes and fines at 198,000,000 ISK.

Audit Log 20070722.0214 – I love it when a plan comes together! Previous surveillance of the Mito constellation had lead to the near loss of an IRS Drake. Arrival through a warp gate was met with a welcoming commitee of CPU interceptors, cruisers, and battleships. They’ve gotten smarter. Fortunately, the strategic brilliance and forethought of the IRS saved the day with a full rack of stabs. Honestly, you’d think by their actions that they haven’t realized that the IRS is always one step ahead of them.

In any case, deeply unnerved by the close call the agency swtiched from the fruitless auditing of NSENT/CPU combat operations to auditing the criminal syndicate’s infrastructure. Previously, a CPU tower was identified in Otsasai space outfitted with poorly situated medium artillery, no webs, no disruptors. An obvious job for a small ship, which lead to the agency’s purchase of an Imicus frigate. While most would scoff at the Imicus as a substandard ship, the attractive saleswoman with the plunging neckline assured me that it did indeed function admirably as a surveillance ship just as it says in the description. Knowing that sales associates never lie, and firmly believing in the ship’s assests, we promptly purchased it and set out to further investigate the tower.

Arrival at the tower revealed some new additions. Stasis web battery. Warp Disruption Battery. Small Autocannon. Apparently monkies can learn. The tower initiated hostilities when it eventually fired back, and a quick warp off prevented any further damage. So while still in one piece, the agency found itself saddled with a fairly crappy frigate of questionable usefulness. Bloody lying tramp. I knew I never should have bought this thing. Well nothing to do but patrol the area I guess. A few jumps take us a little farther south than we normally go, and local commchat indicates a pair of CPU hooligans. Luna HI, a known prostitute and part time ore smuggler; and Cerb Windu her creepy companion and dogsbody. A quick scan identifies them in a belt, undoubtably mining without a license. Ship identification shows a Badger and a… HULK?!! Bingo!

Slam the warp accelerator and charge the Imicus into the belt! Both targets over 20km off, Hulk/Luna to the right, Badger/Windu to the left. No question which is target. Hulk has Acolytes and Valks out. Could be bad. Kick in the afterburner and light it up with targeters. Try to close to the ridiculously short range of a scrambler. Hulk warps. Graaah!! Flip around and head towards the Badger. 20km. 15. 10. 9. 8. Badger warps. Son of a-!! Drum fingers on console fuming. Well at least they left the drones. Trundle on over to scoop them up. Suddenly there’s a flash of red on the screen. Incoming! It’s.. the Hulk? Wtf?! Warps right on top of me. Oookkaayy. All your drone are now belong to us, ace. Targeters lock. Release Hobgoblins. Fire ACs. Engage scrambler that she was so kind to warp into range of. Steadily chewing through shield. Hulk futily thrashing around boosting shields and attmepting to warp. Transmit request for payment of past due taxes. Request denied with some choice vulgarities. So be it. Hulk into armor. This is going to be so sweet. Huh? Wha’s that? Flash of red out of the corner of my eye. Windu. Caracal. Damn! Windu locking. Hulk in armor. Windu firing missiles. Taking heavy damage. Hulk still in armor. Jammed. FFS DIE YOU STUPID HULK!! Windu closing into disruptor range. Slam the button and warp away cursing the entire time… So close.

Audit Log 20070722.0214 – Continued – Quick repair and refit with Luna’s crap drones. Head back to belt. Hopefully my Hobgobbie’s are still there. They aren’t. But Windu is. Fine. If he has jammers he has a garbage tank. Let’s do it. Imicus charges on full afterburner. Windu locks back. Closing the distance. Send out the drones. Viewscreen turns white. CONCORD!! The world freezes. After all this time, they’ve finally come for me!! My life flashes before my eyes. All the crimes, all the ganked mission runners, the nubs at the gates, the flipped cans, everything. Windu explodes. Wtf? I look at Concord. Concord looks at Windu. I look at Windu. Windu looks at Concord. I blow the ever living snot out of Windu’s pod. Bloody criminal. That’s what you get for breaking the law!

Return to Oimmo smiling. Windu and Luna filter into system and begin sharing their plebian socialist views of life filled with a broad selection of vulgarities and threats. Suffice to say, they pledge ever lasting enimity against Agent Norkoff and ominously suggest that he “watch his back.” In response, fit up a new wonder ship. A Moa! Proceed to engage in a few skirmishes with CPU gangsters. Successfully audit a Badger under the nose of a CPU Drake. The IRS cannot be stopped.
Audit Log 20070722.0409 – Epliogue – The wee hours of the morning. Have been popping boosters all night to stay awake. Stumble into ship and undock. Nothing in local commchat. Hit the warp gate, destination south. Same sytem. Same belt. She’s there. The idiot. The Hulk. Lock, scramble, fire. No transmissions, no negotiation. There is no help this time. The IRS does not take kindly to threats.

Current NSENT/CPU past due charges now at 52,000,000 ISK.

Audit Log 20070725.2217 – The past couple days of surveillance have been rather uneventful. Just the typical series of amateurish CPU traps and feebly attempted ganks. None successful, really more of an easily avoided nuissance than anything else. Only item of note being a single encounter. Occurred while running patrols through the southern systems with the dismal little Imicus we have found ourselves stuck with. I hate the stupid thing, yet find myself in it far too often moving supplies and searching for audit suspects.

In any case, jump through a gate and notice a CPU suspect – wind starz in his Nighthawk. Seen him a few times before. Been flying for more than a few years, commandship, a formidable opponent. More than the crap Imicus can handle. He’s sitting 50km off the gate. Exceptionally confident, no doubt. Or possibly… possibly he’s just exceptionally stupid. Tap lip pondering. Quickly search the market, find ship scanner and sensor booster. Fit up, warp to gate, light him up. Result comes back. T2 heavy launchers, T2 extenders, shield relays, cloaking device?, short range scram?!, ffs is that a stab?!!, OMFG WHAT IS THAT?!!! Cringe in horror from the screen. He didn’t! Peek through fingers. Omg he did! It’s a travesty! How could somebody do such a thing to a commandship?! We cannot allow this! It’s an outrage that the IRS cannot let go unavenged! The poor ship must be put out of it’s misery!

Fly back. Look in the hangar. We need something to make a statement. The Moa! Death by Moa is the only answer for this crime! Jump back. Scan position. At the other gate. Warp. There he is! 40km off gate again. Engage microwarp and begin lumbering towards him. Any normal opponent and the Moa would be dead before it got 20km, instead I’m on him, scrambling and firing before he can even lock. ACs, HAMs, and drones start chewing into the shields. Never thought I’d wish for Acolytes, but I am now. Then the Nighthawk starts hitting back. Hard. T2 missiles and drones. Shields dropping fast. Maybe the Moa was a bit overly optimistic? Shields dropping very fast and he’s barely at 75%. Time to bug out. Quick burst on the MWD, wave goodbye to my drones wishing them the best of luck, and warp off to station. Bloody hell. Shoulda brought a bigger ship. Will probably never get this chance again.

Get back to home station and start planning. The new Domi. Been working on it for awhile. Think I finally know what to do with it.

Audit Log 20070726.1944 – The day started like pretty much every other one. Wake up, pop some boosters, check mail. Hmmm. Something from the corrupt lickspittles at Concord. Did I audit someone in my sleep? A criminal organization declare war on me? Or maybe the scum are just trying to extort more money out of me. Open the mail, and the jaw drops. Re-read it again, and laugh. And laugh. And laugh. The Irish Cream Initiative (ICII), one of CPU’s thuggish corporations, has fled from their alliance in order to surrender to the IRS. The rats are abandoning their sinking ship! How typical of criminals to try and avoid justice.

Good news. But time to hunt some suspects. A few have slunk into system, hiding in the shadows waiting to punce once their numbers build up to 7-to-1 odds. Hop in the new Domi to take it for a shakedown run. Undock, start scanning, and an Irish Creamite warps in. Ivara Stout, part-time Jita scammer and suspected clone molester, piloting a Maelstrom. Less than 24 hours left in which to prosecute ICII for their crimes against the tax code. His/her corp may have given up, but apparently the fire still burns in this one. Guess it’s time to put out that flame. Maelstrom comes in at 90km, and we both lock up quick. Has to be double sensor boosted to keep up with me. Got nothing that reaches that far, but apparently he/she does. Arty shells start slamming into my domi. Never been shot by just one arty ship before. Can’t say I like it. Hurts. Alot. Drop a probe and warp out.

Quick scan, perfect hit. Warp back in. Not heading towards station. Crap! Could have been mid-warp result. Nope. Land right on top. Idiot stayed at his/her safe too long. Instalock, scram, web. Drop the Praetors. Never used ’em before, first big change from the old Domi. Then kick in the heavy ACs, the second big change. It’s the old Myrm on steroids. Start ripping into the Mintar junkpile. Shields shred. I think I like Praetors and EMP. Alot. Enemy drones launched, it’s all the fool can try at this close range. They do nothing. Resigned to his/her fate the victim just closes it’s eyes and thinks of New Caldari. And dies. Alone. Screaming. None of the other hoodlums in system lift a finger to help. Such a tight-knit group. Collect modules from the unpiloted wreckage as evidence, and head back to station.

Open the CPU file and check the list for an old name. Dark Klotz. Commlink connects and the pin-striped mobster fills the viewscreen. His greasy smile twitches nervously as he greets me. He’s already broken. But now isn’t the time to be gleeful. We are the IRS, it’s all business. Inform him that all past due fees have been collected. All that remains is for CPU to admit to it’s crime. He fidgets. He stalls. Sweat trickles down the side of his brow. His foolish Amarr pride won’t let him admit defeat to the forces of justice. He refuses and dooms his alliance to a further audit. So be it.

Audit Log 20070726.1944 – Continued – Hop in the damn Imicus to search for the inevitable gank squad. Only one on scanner. Cave Lord. In a Retriever?! It has to be a trap. You’d have to be living in a cave not to know there’s an audit going on. Nobody mines during an audit. Well maybe his name is apropo? Screw it. I hate this stupid frigate anyway. Warp in, burn to target, scram, launch drones, engage. Retriever vaporizes! Never seen a ship drop that fast. I love this ship! He manages a quick “You’ll pay for this you scum!. ORLY? You’d think they’d have learned by now that threatening the IRS is a bad idea. Lock pod and invite to clone bay. Grab the loo-.. err.. evidence, and continue search.

Quick scan. Frogsley in an Impel near gate. He’s CPU! And that’s one of those expensive haulers isn’t it? Drops off scan and local commchat. Must of jumped. The frigate twitches towards the gate by itself. It wants more. Warp in pursuit. IMICUS RAMPAGE!! Jump to Vuorrassi, head towards next gate. Hageken, Hulk Graveyard, the place CPU goes to die. Scanner shows Impel at gate, jumps just before I arrive. Follow. Sensors clear. There’s the Impel! It’s… heading towards empty space? Not in local commchat? Logoffski Drive to escape. Unbelievable.

Minutes pass as I wait for the Impel’s Logoffski Drive to disengage. By this time the inevitable ganksquad has finally begun assembling. Intie, Domi, another undefined ship. Time to leave. Back to home system and dock up. Recalculate NSENT/CPU account. Account currently has a credit of 93 million ISK to be held in escrow for future transgressions of the tax code.

Audit Log 20070727.0520 – Awake refreshed and invigorated after the previous day’s successful audit. Decided to pop a few boosters in celebration. Check mail. Hmmmm. An applicant for the IRS? Corsa d’Azur – Achura, electronics specialist, hates kittens. Could work. As long as he doesn’t do any of that weird Zen stuff, or eat dried squid in the office. Might be a good fit. Always wanted a foreign office boy. But the IRS has always been a solo endeavor. Decisions. Will have to ponder accepting him.

Check the infonet for suspects. Took a bit too long with the mail, so most of ’em probably scurried back into hiding. Unfortunate. What’s this? Seems the Nighthawk pilot from the other day is active. Unlikely to get a shot at that travesty again, but worth a try. If he’s following his old MO, then we might know where to find him. Hop in the newly battle-tested Domi and storm out of station. Flip around and head to Vuorrassi gate. Jump and…

Unbelievable. There he is! Wind starz 50km off gate in the blackpearl (oh that’s original). Clear the jump cloak and let him see me. He stares vacantly like a placid cow. He doesn’t realize what I am. His death. Drop a probe and warp towards a close station. Result comes back quick. Still there at gate. Of course. Stupid cow. Probably fascinated by the pretty light ball. Warp back and land right on top. He isn’t even moving. I almost feel bad for him. But I don’t. There is no mercy for those who would flout the law. For those who would ignore their obligations to society. For those who would oppose justice!

Launch Praetors. Set the ACs spinning. Sink in the teeth of the Nos. It’s just like last time with the Moa. But it’s all one-sided in our favor now. This Domi was built to do this one thing, and it does it well. Probe, EMP, Praetor. Find the ‘pearl and kill it. It’s destiny is complete. The Nighthawk’s shields disintegrate. Armor and hull shred like they’re not even there. The criminal’s ship explodes, cleansed in the purifying flames of justice. It’s value and assests redistributed into space. But full justice has not been served yet. There still remains one task…

Begin locking the pod. And continue locking. And locking. Man! Even boosted these things take awhile. But he’s still just sitting there. Did he forget how to warp? Wanted to find just the right station? Busy painting his fingernails emo black? Who knows. Finally locked and scrammed. The gate flashes! CPU calvary arriving late, when it does at all. It’s Tyrith Malik, overweight concubine of a minor CPU mob boss. Guess he’s partial to tubby mouth-breathing she-male gorillas. Go figure. In any case, the gorilla is in a Raven. No threat there, but wave the ACs at wind starz’ pod just to show I mean business. Raven bails. Figures.

Now it’s righteous justice time! 50mil and the pod can go free. Hello? Pod…? Wtf? He tried to engage his Logoffski Drive?! What is with these people and that Drive? Doesn’t he know that doesn’t work with pods? Especially scrammed pods. Cycle the ACs reducing the pod to a faint greenish mist. Idiot. What was he thinking? Nothing escapes the IRS. Nothing. Not even in death.

Grab the loo-, evidence. Not so bad this time. Guess the Moa scared a bit of sense into him. Not enough sense to make him surrender. Or throw himself into a reactor pile. But at least enough to make it profitable for the Agency. Recalculate the NSENT/CPU account. Credit of 303 million ISK. Golly, they sure do like to pay. I like that. Feeling good. Think I’ll be accepting that application.

Audit Log 20070728.0644 – A new day, a new audit victim. God I love my job! Wander into the office and search around for the desk for another booster. Will have to get the new foreign officeboy to clean the place up. Speaking of which, where the hell is he? Not good, showing up late on the first day. Whatever. No new mail, no suspects in local commchat. Bored, so bored.

Hop into the crap Imicus and run patrols. All hiding in station down south. Head into old lowsec to check on CPU tower. Still there. Take some shots on it. Shoots back. Ow! Mutherf-! That’s my shields! Close the orbit and start laying in with the ACs. Boom! Armor gone?! WTF?! Get out now! Turn. Align. Tower battery tracks. Getting to warp speed. Battery brackets. Go little Imicus! Go! Battery fires. Nooooooo!! Not my Imicus!! My beloved gentle brave little Imicus!! Bastards! I loved that Imicus with all my heart… Oh well, go by another one.

By the time the new Imicus is set-up, the new officeboy stumbles in. Pasty. Blurry eyed. Reeks of alcohol. Great. A pesshead Achura, just what I need. Break him in gently. Mining taxation. I take the Badger, he does the flipping. Goes fairly well. Low risk. And low ISK. Head further south. CPU frigates flee from the sight of the Badger. Do they suspect a Battle Badger? Who knows. Jump gate and local commchat turns red. Not good. But we are the IRS. We are fearless. Search the belts. Corsa finds them. Osprey, Rohk, and a… Hulk?! Time to refit! Back to HQ!

Return in proper audit ships. My trusty Myrm and Corsa’s Blackbird. Still there! Warp in. 35km off. Starting burning towards them. Osprey warps. No loss. Hulk warps. Damn! Still the Rohk left. It warps. FFS! Check the cans. Full of ore. Illegal mining. Profits subject to immediate impound and destruction. Warp to station to hunt down the suspects. Four in system. Cat and mouse. Finally find them. Rohk undocks along with a Thorax and Blackbird. 3 on 2, and they got bigger ships… They don’t stand a chance!

We engage. Burn towards the Rohk. It vomits out a pair of Webber drones. One is blown apart by ACs before it can even get in range. The second stitched full of holes shortly after. Not even a speedbump. Set up orbit and lay in with the drones and guns. Thorax drones begin swarming. Jammers flying back and forth. Lose lock repeatedly, but that doesn’t stop drones! Rohk docks. Focus on Thorax. Ogres lay in hard and it buckles. Tries to align, but scrammed and web. Not going anywhere. Thorax into hull, so dead. Just a few seconds. Jammed! What?!! Thorax warps. Look towards CPU Blackbird. 90km off. Sonufabeetch must pay! Start burning. It eventually warps as well. Dammit!

Keep patrolling system. New contacts in local. Cerebus and Scorpion. Scorp piloted by Vilczynski, architect of the worst trap ever. A trap so inept it actually helps the victim escape. Warps to a can 150km off. CPU Blackbird undocks as well. Bit more outclassed than last time. Oh well, only live once. Warp to can and engage. CPU Blackbird out of range. Good. Quick lock and I get first blood. Ogres start ripping in. But Scorp doesn’t need first hit, only last. And it’s built for it. Nos. Cruises. Drones. And jammers. So many jammers. Cycle after cycle. Taking heavy damage. Cap disappearing quick. Corsa’s ECM does nothing. Useless! Never should have hired him! Deep into armor. Reppers can’t keep up. Cerebus shows up. Not good. Scrammed! No escape! This was a bad bad idea! Stupid little Achura bastard for talking me int- Corsa’s ECM hits! Relock and fire! Scorp into armor. Corsa cycles again! Oh I love you, you little raw fish eating freak! Drones chew through cheap Caldari tinfoil. Again Corsa cycles! Permajam! Yes! Sweet irony. ACs punch through the last bits of hull and Scorp explodes. Pod escapes final justice. Gather audit evidence and warp out under heavy fire from Cerebus. Will save that one for another day.

Current NSENT/CPU account at 363 million ISK credit.

Audit Log 20070728.2011 – Addendum – Bastards! I underestimated their influence and power! And overestimated the integrity of the State. It’s as corrupt and self-serving as a Minmatar Banana Republic! Bastards!!! I’ll have my vengeance on them! On ALL of them!!!

Started so well. The bait set just so. T2 heavy launchers from the Nighthawk sitting for sale in Vuorrassi. No true Caldari can resist the siren call of cheap T2 launchers. Wallet flashes. A CPU hooligan bites! Hop in the Myrm from the old days, and warp to gate. Boosters on and wait. And wait. Gate activation! New CPU suspect in local commchat. Not my intended target, but I’m not terribly picky. Uncloaks, barry7366 in a Hurricane. Well soon to be in a pod. And then a clone bay. Quick lock, drop the Gardes, hit the scram. Awww he’s trying to warp, isn’t that cute. Wait. He is warping. Hey! Try futily relocking again. Targeters flailing everywhere as the ‘cane disappears. Starts locking some random hauler. Whatever. How did he get away? Dammit! I know I scrammed him! I did! I scrammed him. Calm down. Control. Focus. Say… Why is the scram still blinking? It’s… it’s a short range scram? What?! Locking hauler. Wait! Nooooooo!! Navy begins firing! They’ve been corrupted! Bribed!

It all becomes crystal clear in a moment. My ship sabotaged by CPU ninjas! ‘Cane intentionally out of range. Scram stayed active. Targeters tricked into a random lock. They knew it! They did it! It was a set-up! The world freezes. Viewscreen turns white. CONCORD. Oh shi- Myrm explodes. Dammit! Damn them all to hell. This will not go unpunished! I will remember the name of barry7366!

And he will remember mine. Oh yes. He will remember mine.

Audit Log 20070731.1750 – Paperwork sucks. I should fine CPU for causing me to fill all this out! The day has been terribly, terribly busy. First few days after The Myrmidon Catastrophe were somewhat slow. Few targets. Wary of Concord. Careful. Timid. Shy. Not what an IRS Agent should be at all. But couldn’t seem to pull out of the funk. Tried popping more boosters. Didn’t help. Tried exploring. Almost slit my wrists out of sheer boredom. Was grim.

Then a file came across my desk. An unaffiliated contractor was attacked. An independent hauler for the IRS, aptly named IRS Hauler. Apparently was starting a cargo run when the illegal daylaborer and CPU hoodlum, Padraig Oriley, viciously attacked! Damn immigrants! This time the genetic alcoholic was in a stolen Wolf. Foreigners are inherently stupid, but they’re thuggishly brutal and when they’ve bribed Concord, there can be only one outcome. Immediately began looking up an undertaker for Mr Hauler. But as I read further I saw something I wasn’t expecting. Concord arrived, but they immediately obliterated the Mick. Impossible! I was sure they were rotten to the core! My faith was restored. The State was not the cesspool of corruption I had feared after all!

Started the next full of vigor and booster juice. Time to change the world! Hopped in the crappy Imicus and began patrolling. The Paddy was around again, but cowering in station still in fear of Concord. Pathetic. But not so for another CPU gangster. Yuna Higurashi – corp thief, embezzler, and ubertanked Drake pilot. In a Rifter of all things. No matter, they all fall to the Imicus. Immediately initiate audit procedures. Dueling ACs, tight orbits. She has nos, but drones make the difference. Rifter vaporizes under drone plasma. Pod follows quickly after. Imicus rocks! This is more like it!

Patrol farther south. Look for illegal mining ops. Found one! Dead end system. Commchat full of red. Head back to HQ and get the Myrm. Jump back into system. Scan. They’re at the ice belt. Mackinaws! Those desperately need to be audited. Looks like a Drake for security. Won’t be enough. Warp to ice field. Whoa! They’re a bit far off. Carving ice up at the top. Search for a warpable object nearby. Nothing close. Dammit! Taking too long. Choose one at random and hope for the best. Land 40km off. Too far, not good. Start burning towards them. First Mack warps. So does the second. Neutral Mack warps as well. Doesn’t want to get caught in the crossfire. Smart monkey. Only the Drake left. Pilot is Celmak, not familiar, some faceless CPU stooge. Meh. But a criminal is a criminal. They can’t all be high-profile audits. Scram and release the drones. Get in close, and let rip. Missiles sting, but nothing the reps can’t handle. Drake implodes. There was no other outcome possible.

Relocate the evidence and return to field to get cap charges. Scorp and Drake at bottom of belt. Both CPU. Hmph. Dangerous. Outnumbered. Outmatched. No back-up. But the IRS never falters, never wavers. Warp right in their faces. Scorp is primary. It’s Damien Lenare, the Rohk pilot from the last illegal mining bust! No station for him to escape to this time! Sick the drones, and let loose with the guns as long as possible. Jammed quick. Nos and cruises. Ouch. Drake laying in as well. Might have been a bad idea. The jamming stops! Can’t run both jams and shield boost! Relock and help the drones with some EMP rounds. Scorp shudders under the impact. Use my own jammer on the Drake. It works! The tide of battle just turned! Scorp into armor and falls fast. But another Drake warps in. Yuna back for revenge! Can’t break that tank. Scorp explodes. But starting to take heavy damage myself. Gotta run! Scrammed. Burn towards a planet. Futile. Won’t make range in time. A jam hits! Warp! Make it out by the skin of my teeth! Had to leave evidence and drones behind. But the ship is still intact.

Audit Log 20070731.1750 – Continued – Start heading back towards HQ when the little foreign officeboy reports in. He’s in Jita. Wtf is he doing there?! He’s found a CPU shuttle. It’s Shadow 1031, one of their more experienced pilots. Oh? And it’s just sitting by a gate. Oh my. Corsa feeds me realtime play by play. Run to station, buy a cheap frig. Condor. Buy weapons, scram, don’t forget ammo! Taking too long. Undock, back to gate. Still there. Engage. Explodes. Go after pod. Responds just as he’s reduced to green goo. Tsk tsk. Should know better. Sleep in a shuttle, wake up in a station. Probably redistributed a pretty penny in implants with that one. Good job noodleboy!

Take a short break and then head back out in the Domi. Two suspects in system. The ever present Yuna and… barry7366. Flashbacks to the Myrm Catastrophe. Grip the control panel. That bastard! Immediately engage the ridiculously tanked Drake. Won’t break it, but it’ll flush out barry. He comes out in a Maelstrom. Good, I want it to hurt. Switch targets. Drones start tearing into the junkship. Damp the drake removing it from the fight. Maelstrom into armor and warps. Stabbed. Bloody hell. Change to other Domi. Scan, he’s close. Drop a probe. Nos Yuna to keep her in check. Result comes back perfect! Warp on target! Two points this time, not going anywhere. He pleads for a ransom. As if I were a common pirate! Pfft. We are far past the collection phase anyway. Only admission of NSENT/CPU crimes can save them now. Maelstrom buckles and incinerates. Final justice. Pod locked and scrammed. He begs for his life. All I see is my sabotaged Myrmidon. But it’s not personal. It’s just procedure. I don’t smile as the ACs spread him into space. Really.

NSENT/CPU account currently stands with a credit of 489 million ISK.

Audit Log 20070801.0817 – I am apathy. Mood despondent. Got the letter I’ve been dreading. Concord. More extortion. 50 million to continue the audit. Ridiculous! Won’t pay. Audit forced to end tomorrow. Should have known they were playing sick and twisted mind games all along. Concord doesn’t support the State. They don’t support the criminals. They support only themselves. Puppetmasters. Dark illuminati. Tyrants. Someday I will audit them. Someday.

More mail. Seems the officeboy got himself whacked. Tried to take a Caracal with a Kestrel. Whatever. It doesn’t matter anymore. Nothing matters. Dye my hair black(-er), put on moody suicide music, and wander about aimlessly. North. South. No suspects. All hiding and waiting out their last day. Depressed.

Drifting about Oimmo in the Domi when the alarm goes off. Guess it’s about that time. CPU due to spring another trap soon. Right on schedule, hoodlums began filing into system. How dull. Might as well see what they have for me today. Scan them at Ishukone. Best to go to them, they get confused otherwise. Manticore floating far off station. Looks like it’s going to be “snipe & crush” this time. Fine, let’s just get it over with. They send out the sacrificial goat. Areyn Trelik, faceless CPU drone in a Ferox. Poor bastard.

Lock, scram, web, drones, fire ACs. It’s all second nature. Begin stripping the shields. Manticore locks and fires, and a CPU drake shows up. Nothing new, standard trap. Missiles start hitting hard, into armor, reppers engaged. Ferox shields failing. Check the timer. 3. 2. 1. Raven and Scorp undock. Sigh. How completely uninspired. Jammed. Of course. Cap getting drained. Of course. Drones finish off Ferox. Of course. Pull in drones. Grab evidence. Injectors and reppers keeping up. Trap has failed. CPU gangsters slink back into their den. Predictable. Ordinary. This bodes poorly for the last 24 hours.

Taxman II: Amarr Safari

Audit Log 20070803.2219 – It has been a few days since the end of the CPU/NSENT audit. While epicly successful beyond our wildest imaginations it has left me with a hollow feeling that no other audit could possibly compare. Regardless, tax collection is our job. Not every audit can be covered in glory. Some will be tedious and painful. But if we don’t do it, then who will?

In any case, immediately following CPU/NSENT, we sent a Notice of Past Due Taxes and request for payment to our next suspect. Native Ore Lords (NOL), an environmentally unfriendly strip-mining operation and suspected smuggling front for a shadowy and mysterious alliance. Small operation, neglible taxes. Further research indicated NOL was under attack from none other than the Irish Cream Initiative (ICII). The craven cowards who fled from CPU in order to escape justice. Heh. What little good it did them. Regardless, the IRS does not tolerate interference in it’s affairs. Immediately opened communications with Lothlorien Bree, the group toy and nominal leader for the ICII thugs. A furrowed brow and the IRS logo was all it took to make her turn state’s evidence. Paid the outstanding taxes for NOL, immediately ceased hostilities, and yielded information on the next suspect – Kali Heavy Industries (KALHI). Three problems solved with one call. Just another day for an IRS agent. Yet somewhat dull. I pine for the thrill of the audit.

Audit Log 20070805.1310 – Information from ICII proved amazingly useful and accurate. Have sent Notice of Past Due Taxes and commenced audit on KALHI. Unfortunately, they seem to be somewhat hesitant to reply or even undock for audit inspections. Furthermore, there are far fewer of them present. Odd. Would have expected a bit more pluck. Decent membership, more than a few battleship pilots. Hmph.

Due to popular demand, have also hired a little foreign officegirl to supplement the noodleboy. Renske Eva, a little Gallente number to prance around the office in short skirts and tight blouses. Good times. Will hopefully prove to be a decent tax agent as well.

Audit Log 20070806.2011 – Still no suspects. Problematic. In the meantime, have taken to working with friends in the Caldari Navy. Hopefully they can intercede on my behalf with the galactic corruption known as Concord.

Audit Log 20070807.2204 – Still no suspects. Bloody hell.

Audit Log 20070808.1739 – Still no suspects. Ridiculous. But at least now I can enter all but the deepest cesspools of Concord corruption. Should certainly help in the audit process.

Audit Log 20070809.2101 – It reminds me of a conversation I had with a wizened old Minmatar once. Had intercepted him in a section of deadspace, and proceeded to process him for past due taxes. In the course of the conversation he had been going on on about the “Circle of Life” and how all things come back to you. Didn’t really think much of it at the time. Had a good chuckle over his silly aboriginal beliefs, and he expired shortly afterwards. Never did collect payment from him either. Heh. Anyway, after today, beginning to think there might be something to the old coot’s ramblings after all.

First, found where the KALHI suspects were hiding. Hibi. Old Hibi. My initial training grounds in tax collection with CKTF. God we were so young then. Confiscating illegal mining profits, chasing down belt murderers, fighting off the unwarranted aggressions of WROK. Carefree sunny days back then. Will be good to go visit. Will be like a walk down memory lane. This time, firmly in the cause of justice.

Then, while packing up the office got a message from those arch-manipulators of Concord. Great. What this time? More Yulai extortion? A billion ISK check payable to the IRS “just because”? Perhaps a databomb to capriciously wipe our systems? With Concord, you never know.. With no little trepidation I opened the file. And read it.

Unbelievable. KALHI joined an alliance. How does this always happen? Fate? Karma? Concord games? Who knows. Doesn’t matter. Just means more targets I guess. Begin researching the alliance and the jaw drops. No. Fecking. Way. It’s them!!! This has to be a Concord joke! It can’t be! The irony is too much.

Alliance is Division of Eden. Founders are the Black Aces. Also known as the 81st Division. Made up of the rejects of Warspite Developments. The IRS’s first audit suspect from so many months ago. From back before the Rabbits even. An audit so successful it apparently caused the corporation’s collapse shortly afterwards. Unbelievable. And they are all here too. The initial targets that started the IRS with their illegal mining. Slavyn. Chris2000. Blue Finister. Blunt11. Tsunamisan. Even that poor idiot Mining Yahoo.

The old monkey was right. Life does come full circle. They were such victims then. And they will be so again.

Audit Log 20070811.0104 – Ahhh… Hibi, you wretched hive of scum and villany, how well I know you. You knew my name once, and you’ll know it again. This time as law. Pull into system in the trusty AC Myrmidon. Things haven’t changed much. Still full of unlicensed miners. Still blaring Archbishop sermons and depressing droning chants on the entertainment grid. Still somewhat seedy. Been a long haul down here, but there is no rest for the righteous. The job never sleeps, and neither does the IRS.

A quick search of system commchat shows a suspect in local. Clostridium Difficile. What the hell kind of name is that? Must be one of those hoodie wearing fanatics. Whatever. Scan shows him in a wee little Tormentor sitting in a belt. A frigate? Where are the hulks and battleships? Man this audit is gonna suck. Just gotta remember, not every audit is full of glory. It’s still a job. Sigh. Warp into belt and there he is. Rifling through the wreck of a Sansha he just brutally murdered. Hope I can lock in time. Hate frigs and their sig radius. Tormentor just sits there, paralyzed in terror at the approach of inevitable justice. Locked, scrammed, webbed. Engages back and tries to flee. Launch the drones and fire the ACs. The biblethumper disintegrates. Oh joy. Like that was even challenging. Pod narrowly escapes. No great loss. Investigation of wreckage shows mining equipment? Mining in a frigate? Sigh. This is gonna be a long audit.

KALHI outstanding taxes and fines now stand at 108,000,000 ISK.

Too easy. Continue the search. Jump north a bit. Target in local. Begin scanning. Narrowing it down. Looks like it’s in belt-… Local commchat turns into a wall of red! Oh not good. 7. 8. 9. No, 10. All the kids from Warspite (aka Black Aces). Lead by their demagogue leader Hawkcrest. WoW. Nice name. Cruiser gang, a Zealot, some recons. Heh. Guess they’re a bit peeved about that frigate. Not gonna be able to take that on. Dock up. Demand payment of past due taxes. Typical banter ensues. And goodness, here come the taunts. Oh yes, a class act this bunch. I have a suspicion about them. Only time will tell if it proves true.

Wander over to the station restraunt to grab some dinner. Watch through the viewport as the merry band of thugs slowly disperse. Tap the fork on the plate and ponder. This may become difficult after all…

Audit Log 20070812.0221 – The day started out well. Ran back up to Oimmo HQ to grab one of the Domis. Will probably need it. The Warspite punks aren’t what they once were. They’ve gotten stronger and better organized. Last night’s attack was proof enough of that. But I suspect they still possess their fatal flaw. It’s too early to tell for sure, but instincts say it’s there.

In any case, some booster hits for the trip and we’re good. A few jumps into hoodiehead space and notice a criminal transponder in system. Jacek Ringwelski, low-grade Gallentean thief (is there any other kind?) for Peregrine Avionics specializing in “smash-&-grabs” on docked ships. Basically, scum. Scan shows him in a Retriever at a station. Well best go drive him inside. No point letting him think he can get away with illegal mining. Warp in and he’s sitting at undock. Light him up with targeters and wait for him to jump back in. Oh? He’s feeling saucy. Fine. Hit him with a bank of Nos and sick the drones on him. Get back in there you! Err… he’s still not docking. Glance at local commchat. No new contacts. Retriever is wreckage by the time I look back. Heh. Nappytime during audits is a bad idea. Lock the pod and administer some final justice. Idiot. Evidence is unimpressive, give away the Kernite to needy orphans nearby.

Finish the trip to Hibi uneventfully. Grab some lunch and then head out looking for suspects in the Myrm. One in system. Celestial Star, former performer of slavecamp “hound shows”. Odd, usually more suspects around. Smells fishy. Might just be the suspect though. Scans show her in a Drake. Running the belts. In a 0.5 system. Yeah, right. Well worth a shot. Warp in and land on top. She’s at zero too, how strangely convenient. Quick lock and lay in with the drones and guns. Commchat turns red almost immediately. Drake is taking heavy damage. Tempting, but no. Warp out and leave the drones. Ganksquad coming in as I’m heading out. Made the right choice.

Gotta replace the drones though. Check the market, some in system. Warp to station. Rifter comes in same time I do. Found me. Gotta make this quick to avoid getting camped in. Load the drones and head back out. They’re waiting. All 9 of them, BCs, a BS, assorted frigs. Whatever. We’ll just test the tank and dock back up. Wow. They do some damage. No worries, right near undock. Dock back up. Err… Dock back up. Oh crap. Amarr made their stations a bit different. Right near the undock but over a kilometer off. This is not going to be good. Crap. But I’m NOT going out like a chump! Launch the drones, start locking. No, wait! Heading back towards station! Pull the drones in! Haha! The Myrm will live another day! Justice prevai-.. WTF do you mean “aggression”?! I didn’t attack! All 4 of my drones are in my bay! Wait. 4? Oh shi-…

Audit Log 20070812.0221 – Continued – Quick pod warp. How’d I let that happen?! How’d I lose track of my drones?! Sloppy. Sloppy sloppy sloppy. Rifter warps in right after me. Dammit! Make it to a safe in one piece. Close. But not good. I seriously underestimated these punks. Tougher, cannier, and tighter than I gave them credit for. Can… Can I defeat them at all? Is it as hopeless as they say? Stop it! Difficult is NOT hopeless. There got to be a way. There’s got to be… MY vision ripples. It’s… It’s a cutscene flashback!

I find myself back in the Oimmo office. Working on tax returns. Corsa is sitting cross-legged in the corner jacked-in and doing that weird Zen stuff. Says he’s studying. I reckon he’s watching that freaky fedo-pron you can only get in nullsec. Whatever. Lean back in my seat. Stressed. Tax returns suck. Corsa speaks. “Ahh.. Your style. It’s not very good.” What are you going on about noodleboy? “Very slow. Clumsy. Not flow.” Don’t even tell me how to do my job! You’re the officeboy! “Your spirit, very flawed. Must be reborn.” What? WTF does this have to do with tax returns? “Must master art of fighting without fighting.” Corsa? Have you been getting into my booster stash? “Must become like water.” Suddenly I awake from the flashback. It’s all clear to me now.

I self-destruct the pod. Oimmo. Walk down to the hangar. The one I never go to. Look out the viewport into the darkness. She’s there. I can sense it. Hit the floods. They thump on, one at a time. Revealing her in all her glory. The Arazu.

Now it’s payback time.

Audit Log 20070812.1953 – Idiot! What was I thinking?! Even thinking at all? No. Acted like anything but “water”. Dammit! Started so well too. Immediately headed back down towards Hibi. Warspite reject patrols sent out to intercept. They can’t see me. Can’t touch me. They flail about impotently. I will choose when to audit. I will choose when they die. They exist only at my whim. They will conduct business only when I allow it.

So how the hell did this happen then? I knew all that and yet still faltered. 4 BCs at the gate – 2 Drakes, Myrm, Ferox. Too much for the Arazu. But… might be able to do it in the Domi. And design specs on Nos being changed soon, might as well make the most of it while I can. Fool am I! Direct attacks don’t work with these bastards. I know that. Still I docked. Still I changed to the Domi. Still I warped to the gate and jumped.

They’re still there, all four of them. Myrm is the damage dealer, primary. Engage hardeners, drop the Gardes, start locking, fire! Throw some EW at the others. Taking some damage. Cap is dropping, they’re using neuts. Hmmm. Wait. Why is the Myrm undamaged?! Bloody idiot drones! Shoot. The. Myrm!! Shields on the Myrm vanish. Not good though. 5th BC shows up, a ‘Cane. Halfway into cap, Myrm is right on top, taking some heavy damage. Need to drop one of these punks quick. Pull in the Gardes, switch to Zerks. Start chewing into Myrm, it’s armor starts dropping… and then stops? What?! Remote reps? Overview bug? Drones change targets? No idea. Doesn’t matter now. Cap is out. Systems failing. It’s over. Damage control drags it out. Least I coulda done is overheat the damn things! Idiot! Domi disintegrates, pod warps out of the expanding explosion. Poor choice. Poor choice indeed.

KALHI outstanding taxes and fines now stand at 268,000,000 ISK. Can I even collect on this? Are they too tough? Will I just keep losing ships?! Dammit! Maybe I should just quit now. Maybe I should just forget about this audit. Close the file. Don’t post the logs. Find some othe- NO! This is my job! This is my audit! I am the IRS. I won’t fail. I won’t quit. Stop fighting their way. Impose my will on them. Strike from the shadows. Become… the DETEIS NINJA!!!

Audit Log 20070813.1602 – A short break after the Domi loss. Won’t let it bother me. I am Zen now. The loss will only make me stronger. Gulp down some steamed buns from a foodstand before heading out. Tastes like slaver hound. Take what you can get in these parts, I reckon. Undock the Arazu. It all changes from this point on.

Show a Hawk on scan. Probably blunt11. Only person stupid enough to fly that piece of crap ship. RocketHawk if I remember right. Could be bad if I let him get close. But I won’t. I control the battles now. Pinpoint him at a belt, warp in cloaked. He’s busy murdering and looting Sansha frigs. Don’t strain yourself there, ace. Close the distance. About to uncloak and- Incoming!!. It’s… a Bestower? okaaaayy. It’s Clostridium, that weird Amarr guy. Fine, two kills then. Simple plan – kite blunt, pop the Bestower, then finish the Hawk. Piece of cake. Uncloak, launch the drones, prime the guns, start locking. Instalock the hauler, scram, drones are off and running. Hawk is taking a bit longer, it’s increasing speed and increasing the distance. Err.. Wait. He’s increasing distance? No, he’s warping. The freaking Hawk is warping out and leaving his mate to die without even engaging!! Unbelievable.

Everything I suspected about them is true. The Warspite punks fight marginally well in groups… But that is all they can do. They can’t fight solo. They lack the sense of self. They fly in fear. They need the safety of the group to sustain themselves. Even against one man. They are indeed cowards. This will be too easy. The Bestower satisfyingly explodes. Pod escapes justice having actually jettisoned before the ship was even destroyed. These chumps are too much. Freaking laughable jokes.

Start looking up some locator agents. Find the stragglers. The wanderers. Cull the herd. Get a decent report on one. Xcopy up in Lonetrek region. Roadtrip! 20 or so jumps and chat up another agent. He’s in Passarri. Been there, know it well. He’s as good as dead. Make the jumps. Not in system, but logic dictates he’ll be heading back down towards Tash. Check the route and start cruising back. Pick up his transponder in two jumps. It disappears from local commchat. Jumped. Follow. Track him 3 jumps until faster warp and agility make the difference. He’s in a BadgerII. Cha-ching! Scream past him at the gate. He came in under autopilot. During an audit? Idiot. Whip around and hit him head-on at over 2km/s. He ain’t getting close to the gate anytime soon. Drones and guns start going to town. He locks back… and fires?! He actually put a gun on a hauler? Wow. Real dumb choice that. Hauler pops. Lock the pod as he runs to the gate. Check the watch. I let him get close. He tries to jump. And fails. I smile. I let him try a few more times… Then I deliver justice.

KALHI outstanding taxes and fines now stand at 262,000,000 ISK.

Audit Log 20070814.2054 – Day started out fairly typical. Lurking in the Arazu, found a pair of Drakes. Celestial Star the Drake bait from before, and nercius a Gallentean fedophile and occassional carrier pilot. Both hugging the station. Whatever, uncloak and engage anyway. Start rotating damps, but it seems that Ms Star has both a reduced targeting range and scan resolution. Stabbed. When I don’t think they can sink any lower, they do. Fine, one damp for her, they rest for fedo boy. Drones are all over nercius and iridium rounds are glancing off his shields. Not even making a dent. Never really intended too. Just auditing for show right now. Remind them how invulnerable I am. Warp out after the last of my drones pop. Doesn’t matter, just bill it back to the suspect.

Refit drones. Run some patrols. Nothing. Return to Hibi. Suspects in local. Nercius humping a station like it’s the last fedo he’ll ever see. And some NanoTec guy. Proper Caldari name, but he’s one of those apelike Civre, only good for manual labor. Looks like he’s in a… Caracal Navy Issue?!! Oh you are toast! Uncloak, damp fedoboy, start raining rail slugs and drone plasma on the Crapacal. The ape docks. Sissy. Pull in the drones and cloak back up. Ignore nercius, he’s a non-factor, he just takes up space.

What to do? Only 3 suspects in local. Third is a hangarjockey that hasn’t undocked in days. Part of being water is being adaptable. Domi time! Hop into the AC Domi, undock, head to the huggy station. Drake docks up. Can’t say I blame him. He doesn’t have 10 guys backing him up. But wait! The Crapacal undocks. Dock-undock games until the ganksquad arrives, eh? Risking the faction ship too. Gutsy. I like hi-.. WTF?! He’s locking me?… He’s actually firing?!!!

I sit stunned for moment. He’s baiting with a factionship?! Balls of Steel!!! I take back everything I said about them. NanoTec has single handedly redeemed their honor. He’s the bravest of the brave! No matter how many they bring, I will stay and fight! If he risked a faction ship, it’s the least I can do! Launch the Praetors and lay into him with EMP L. This will be glorious! Wait for commchat to turn red. Nothing. Crapacal shields are shredding. Still no ganksquad. Wait a sec… this guy tried to solo me with his faction cruiser?!! OMG. He is my hero!! He makes me feel unworthy. But still, I must give him my all. Anything less would be an insult to such a warrior. The brave little ship staggers under my assault and explodes. I lock the pod… And then let it go. I could never kill somebody like him. He is beyond justice. He says nothing. He doesn’t need to. He already won when he fired the first shot. I am in awe…

But I still grab the evidence and get it to station. No use tempting fate. KAHLI fine recalculated to 189,000,000 ISK. Swap out for the Arazu and run patrols. Spread the news of NanoTec’s bravery to any of his comrades I come across. They are less than enthused. In fact, they only seem to want to kill me. Bah! Idiots. They have no appreciation for style. NanoTec is too good for them. I begin drafting a letter to invite him to the IRS. Miss auditing one of their Retreivers by mere seconds. I head back to Hibi with their ganksquad in close (yet entirely ineffective) pursuit. Decide to check a random belt on a lark. I cringe in horror at what I see. It can’t be true… but it is.

Audit Log 20070814.2054 – Continued – It’s NanoTec. In a Hulk. It crystallizes in a moment. He didn’t realize I was in the Domi. He thought it was the Arazu. He lost his Navy Crapacal and is mining to get a new one. In a Hulk. During an audit. He’s not brave. He’s not a hero. He’s a fecking imbecile! I delete the drafted letter. My rage burns. 8 other suspects in local – Zealot, assault frigs, various BCs. Doesn’t matter. He must die. Uncloak and pour my hate and betrayal into the Hulk. It buckles and writhes. I drag it out. No help arrives. Of course it doesn’t. They are slow and unweildy. They fear. The Hulk explodes. The idiot’s pod escapes. I grind my teeth. Never again. Never again will I relent on justice. Cloak as the ganksquad finally arrives. They might as well have stayed docked.

KALHI outstanding taxes and fines now stand at 69,000,000 ISK.

Audit Log 20070815.2348 – Another day, another suspect. Been a bit slow. Trying to maintain a steady rythm of at least one audit per day. Keeps the criminals’ morale down. Reminds them that they are scum. Was finding nothing all day after redistributing the Hulk. Just bands of Warspite rejects huddling together in large groups, befouling local commchat with their vulgarities and feeble taunts to engage their 8-man gangs with my Recon. Pitiful. Shining moment for them being Warbear attempting to defend his loser-group skirt-wearing ancestors. God, I can’t wait to be done with them.

Eventually found a Badger during patrols. Picked him up warping to gate just as I jumped through. Didn’t stand a chance. Went by the name of Misamuru. A Deteis pretending he’s Achura? An embarassment to our race. Pity his pod escaped. Even bigger pity that the hauler was empty. Oh well. Still, it keeps the pressure on.

And that pressure paid off towards the end of the night. Get a note from Concord. Seized by the usual cold dread in the pit of the stomach. I so hate Concord. Fortunately, they sent good news this time. Seems the turning of the tide has taken it’s toll. One of the criminal corporations within the Divsion of Eden syndicate has surrendered. Republic Fleet & Logistics. Figures it was a bunch of filthy Gallentean surrender monkeys. Wave a blaster in their general direction and they are on their knees begging for mercy. Pathetic. Yet it so typifies this entire alliance. Amazing it held together after their first ship loss. But they’re still here, and so is their debt. And I’m still here to collect it.

KALHI outstanding taxes and fines now stand at 67,000,000 ISK.

Audit Log 20070818.2021 – Well seems my short-lived auditing streak has come to a rather abrupt and anti-climactic end. Not due to their skill. Simply due to the fact that they dock up. I enter system? They dock up. I log into my ship? They dock up. I think about auditing them from 20 jumps away? They dock up. Two days of nothingness. Difficult to audit under these circumstances. Beginning to worry if I will be able to fully collect. Would be our first failure. I won’t let it happen!

On the plus side, they seem to have realized how incapable they are of stopping me. Ganksquads have all but given up. Instead they are pulling back into static defense. Like a turtle into it’s shell. Not that it helps them. Jumped into Goram, their main HQ system. High combat presence, POS, the usual. 9 suspects in local, some orbiting station, presumably a fast reaction team. Which means about 15 minutes for them. Right, so run patrols. Nothing at ice field or outlying belts. Check the main cluster. Pair of Retrievers, don’t recognize the ship names. Interesting. Narrow it down and warp in. They’re criminals all right! About to uncloak when a third barge warps in. It’s a Hulk! Reiko MINAMOTO. What’s with these lame Achure names? Well yeah she’s Achura, but still. And why so proud of the last name? First name? The one at the end! Whatever.

In any case, we know who is primary. Might be dicey though. They got more than a few drones, and there’s 6 more suspects in system. Gotta go for it! Uncloak and start locking right after the Hulk falls out of warp. No chance for it to get away, even if it’s stabbed. Lock, scram, rails, drones. The Retreivers pull in their drones and start to run. Idiots. They could conceivably hold me off until help arrives. But they won’t. They’re yellow to the core. Retreivers warp, leaving the Hulk to die. And it does. Ample time to grab the evidence. T2 Modulated Strips. Not bad. Pop the illegal mining containers. Even the wreck. Give them nothing. Take from them, everything.

KALHI account now shows a credit of -53,000,000 ISK. But the audit doesn’t stop. Not until they admit to their crimes!

Audit Log 20070819.2155 – Meh.. Dull day. Got the expected note from Concord. 24 hour notice until the end of the accounting period. Audit cancelled, Yulai Conventions and all that. I swear if I ever meet this Yulai guy I will gut him. He’s caused me more problems than anyone else I know. Guess it doesn’t really matter though. The audit has already been successful. We have redistributed KALHI assests in excess of the original amount plus fines. Still, certainly wouldn’t mind continuing. Pity that their alliance is too craven to declare it mutual. But the IRS has that effect on people. I should get used to it.

Also got some reports from Noodleboy and the little office tramp. Almost forgot we employed them. Corsa claims to be working graveyard. Says he tried to engage one of their Hawks with his Manticore. Got blobbed by BCs, had to cloak up and escape. Sounds about right. The power and safety of the idiot mob. Well at least he tried. Eva’s report was a bit shorter. “Camped in station. Went shopping.” Great. You can’t buy quality like this. Which I guess makes it a good thing I don’t pay them.

So it’s up to me as usual. Decided to check out their HQ system again. Only a few suspects. They’re lying low. Concord gives them hope. Probably figure if they can only survive the next 24 hours, they might make it through the audit alive. Sad part is, they’re right. Damn Concord! But wait. Scans pick up a target. It’s that Clostri guy… again. I am so sick of auditing him. He’s not even a challenge. And he’s in a bloody Tormentor again. Geez. Warp in, uncloak, annihilate him. Miss the pod again. He’s a lucky bastard, I’ll grant him that. Crap evidence. Annoying. Fine them 2 million for forcing me to waste time and ammo.

KALHI account now shows a credit of -51,000,000 ISK.

Audit Log 20070820.2302 – The final 24 hours. Patrols in outlying systems turned up nothing. Barely missed Jacek’s Retriever. Was aligned, should have gone in for the cloaked bump. Meh, it’s only a Retreiver. Further patrols still fruitless. All docked up. Can’t even find any wanderers with locator agents. Return to Hibi depressed. Not the ending I was looking for. Some new suspects in local. Offkee Notebender and some other faceless turd. Apathetic scan shows them in a belt in a Ferox and a Hulk.

Hulk?! Things suddenly got interesting. Francticly narrow down the scan. One of two belts. 50/50 warp in to the second one. Please don’t notice I’m in local. Please please please. Wrong belt. Dammit!! Swing around and head towards the other. Decloaked by a roid. Oh god, can this get any worse? Cloak midwarp. Just let me catch one before they warp out. Just one. Hit the belt, they’re still there! Placidly mining away. Not even moving. Idiots. How can they be so clueless during an audit? Ferox is hovering 30km above the belt on guard duty. Oooohhh scary. Fool. Distance is not your friend here. Drift into proper range and decloak. Damp the Ferox, scram the Hulk, send in the drones. Hammerheads rip into the Hulk’s shields. Ferox is moving. Trying to close range? Nope. He’s warping out. You brave guard, you. Once again, abandoning their mates. Don’t want to lose that 30mil BC trying to protect a 120mil Hulk. No, no. Priorities. And their first priority is always themselves. Scum. Auditing people like this is a pleasure.

Hulk dies with a whimper. Doesn’t even send out drones. Ferox docks up. Doesn’t even try warping back in. Evidence isn’t bad. More Modulated Strips. Destroy the wreck and mining containers. A satisfying end to the audit. Final account statement shows KALHI credit of -171,000,000 ISK.

The original fine was a mere 100mil ISK. Rather than paying, they tried to run. First into Amarr space, and then into the arms of an alliance. Neither helped them. Instead, their foolish pride lead to the loss of 3 Hulks, a faction cruiser, various haulers and barges, and a few poddings. Worth it for them? Certainly not. Never is. Yet criminals will always be criminals. They will always attempt to avoid their tax obligations. They will always attempt to take advantage of society. And we will always be here to stop them. We are the IRS. We are justice.

Taxman III: Attack of the Blob

Audit Log 20070827.1903 – It’s been a week since the KALHI audit. And a dull week at that. Moving ships back up from Fanaticland was hell. So many bloody jumps. Was nice to visit, but have had more than my fill. But once it was all moved, it’s back to work again. No rest for the righteous. Checking corp backgrounds, contract histories, member counts, HQs, pilot ages. All to find the criminal tax evaders that are undoubtedly out there.

After three days had it narrowed down to two suspects – a corp and a syndicate. Turned out the corp got itself involved in a war during the research period. Not worth auditing then. Will probably be insolvent in a week. That leaves the syndicate. Just as well. All audits end up being against alliances anyway, so might as well cut to the chase this time.

These perps go by the name Giant Space Amoeba. BLOB for short. Lovely. They think that up themselves? Made up of three main gangs. Patriot Society, a mob of politico nutjobs sidelined for their extremist views. The Royal Guard, the syndicate’s main muscle and kneebreakers. And Xtreme Fighters, a feeble huddle of deviants who only accept ethnic loser-groups named after pastries. Assorted other faceless support gangs of varying talent and ability.

Research shows a past due tax balance of 100 million ISK. Same amount all criminals seem to be delinquent. Funny that. Send Notice of Past Due Taxes. Response is as sad as it is predictable. Claims of taxes being paid, refunds being due, and swearing to never pay an ISK. Sigh. So be it. Audit begins in 24 hours.

Total BLOB of 9 gangs, with 240 thugs. One full-time tax agent… They’ll need to hire more thugs.

Audit Log 20070828.1520 – Morning of the first audit day. Writing this before the first engagement. They’re out there, and they’re hostile. No respect for authority, criminals to the core. Started out easy enough. Waiting for the audit to begin. 4 suspects in local. Run some quick patrols before the official start. Identify a Raven but not much else. Dock back up, pop some boosters, take a quick shower. Audit should start by now, but no red stars in commchat. Odd. Hop in the Merlin and take a look outside. Suspect Hurricane undocks right behind. Not red though. Very odd. Oh wait, the ‘Cane seems to be firing. At me. Huh. Casually glance around. Nope. No Concord. Weird. ‘Cane continues to rage and fire it’s ACs. Ponder for a bit. Other suspects begin warping in as well. Yeah, guess that means the audit has started. Dock up as the shields finally start to get low. Reckon I’ll have to do some auditing.

There’s five out there now. Gonna be a bit much for the Myrm. Will have to do the Domi. The new Domi. The Domi built just for this audit. A Domi the way it’s designers intended – Blasters & Drones. Hop in, check systems, ammo, drones. Good to go. Facing a ‘Cane, Drake, Jag, Wolf, and Crapacal. Plus whatever else they send in. Shouldn’t be a problem. I will audit them. I will audit ALL of them. And once I’m done, I’ll finish the rest of today’s log. But for now, it’s time to undock!

udit Log 20070828.1545- Supplement – Failure. So this it what it tastes like. It’s bitter. It stings. I don’t like it. The hollow emptiness and desolation of inadequacy. This must be how CPU and the Warspite rejects felt. I’m sure they are quite used to it, but I won’t be. I can’t be!

Undocked the Domi. Hurricane is still there. It’s Malik Kalak, another one of those filthy mongrel immigrants with the sing-song names. Sitting right on the undock. He’s meat. Both lock up and fire immdeiately. Kick out the drones and slap on the web and scram. Drones doing a number on the ‘Cane, but blasters are shooting all over the place. Not used to them. Not like the ACs at all. Taking some hefty shield damage as well. Then play my card. Pull in the drones, unlock the ‘Cane. Fake the fearful redock. It works. BLOB drones begin pouring into system.

This is more like it! Lock the ‘Cane back up and fire! In proper range now, blasters start doing their thing. Drones back to work. Viewscreen is filling up with red quick. Drake, Crapacals, Vexor or two, various assault frigs and inties. Taking some heavy armor damage. Keep focusing on the ‘Cane. It’s into armor. Own armor keeps peeling away as well, no reps can keep up with this. ‘Cane into structure. Too many of them. Getting to half armor. Hurricane pops. Can’t deliver final justice. Web preventing me from grabbing the evidence. Switch to orbitting Wolf. Launch Warriors and slap on the web. It’s shields drop slowly. Getting towards 40% armor. Dammit! Shoulda done Hammerheads. Can’t do this. Pull in the drones, unlock targets.

More BLOB keep piling in. Up to 15 now. Oh, not good. Armor dropping even faster. Try to dock. No good. Station manager is on a food break. Fecking union workers! 25% armor, still can’t dock. Get back to work you overpaid button pusher! Armor gone! Taking structure damage. Life drops into slow motion. Quarter structure disappears in one second. Oh god no. Spam the docking commchannel. Overrides. Anything! Another second, half structure. Look wildly back at the viewscreen. It’s all blinking red. Trails of missiles. Drones ripping into my ship. Can see the tracers of a frig’s ACs. Not like this! Not with a frig. Another second. Grit my teeth for the inevitable. The hangar fields drop and suck me in.

Glare into the commscreen panting. Docking manager is there, donut in mouth. “What’s yer rush mate? If I could walk in station, I’d put a blaster bolt in his head.

The ship is in one piece. I’m still alive. They lost a BC out of an atrociously large blob. Only one BC. I swore I’d audit them all. I only got one. Failure. It hurts.

Audit Log 20070829.0410 – It’s been just over 12 hours since the catastrophic failure. Was in shock for the first few hours. Wandered around station aimlessly. 1 out of 15. Not even 10%. Pathetic. How can I audit this way? It only reduced their fine down to 117 mil ISK. 117mil? Well come to think of it, that ain’t bad. Plus we did redistribute some decent T2 gear. And the rest of them were pretty much just cruisers and frigs, so they wouldn’t count for much anyway. And soon I wasn’t feeling so bad after all. In fact, I was feeling pretty damn good about myself. Strolled back to the office to get some paperwork done before heading out again.

Files finished, logs sent, time to do another audit. Undock. Rep up the Domi. No point in paying repairs just so the docking manager can stuff his face again. Slow going. BLOB hooligans wander by and start harassing. Usual cruisers and frigs. Drake. Deimos. And a Hype. Bloody hell. Takes a bit, but we’re back in business, all systems green. Hype has run off by this point. Guess he knows what’s coming. Well we’ll just take the consolation audit then.

Lock up the Deimos, and use drones and blasters to request payment of past due taxes. They try paying with guns, drones, and missiles of their own. Not exactly what I was hoping for. Blasters take a few seconds to find their range, but once they do, the hurt is on. Deimos reppers try to keep up, but it’s futile. It’s armor blown away in chunks by Zerks and antimatter. Own armor slowly dropping, but no cause for concern. Only a matter of time for the Deimos though. Start picking next target. Drake or the annoying frig. Decisions, decisions. Glance back at the Deimos, into structure. Buh-bye little HAC. Sucks to be you! Hahah- Wait. He just escaped web range! Crap! Trying to microwarp out of scram range. Go drones, go! Drones chasing. Firing. He’s still taking damage! Bastard is too fast! Scurries off trailing flames. Damn. Sloppy Vlad, sloppy.

Worse yet, he’s set off a rout. The rest begin fleeing as well. Drake then. Quick lock and scram to hold it. Launch the Praetors and get into optimal. Big fat shield signature. Ridiculously slow speed. Perfect target. Electrons begin pummeling. Criminal stops firing, desperately tries to contact the station manager. I smile. His drones are still on me. Praetors obliterate the shields. He’s screaming now. Begging and pleading to be let in. Blasters take slow measured strikes into his hull. He’s still sobbing as the ship explodes around him. Leaving just the pod. Start locking. Pull in the Praetors, and send out the Warriors. Scram and send the little monsters to do their work. He’s desperately slamming the commbutton to the very last.

Will have to remember to send the Docking Manager a box of donuts.

BLOB outstanding taxes and fines now stand at 84,000,000 ISK.

Audit Log 20070831.0617 – The last few couple days have been eventful, but not terribly productive. The BLOB is tricky and full of animal cunning. Constantly changing tactics like some amorphus amoeba-like thing. They’ve pulled off station to camp the gates. Attempting to pen me in system. Try to scan me down with probes. Won’t work. I am the Arazu. I am Ninja!

Find a BLOB Crapacal drifting 90km off gate. Has a Raven, Domi, and Drake sitting on gate as backup. Helios is lurking about running ineffectual scans as well. Stalk into 20km when the Crapacal starts heading back towards gate. Now or never. Drop the cloak, launch the Hammerheads. Freaking lock delay! He lights me up first. Minor damage. But drones are off and away. Follow up with damp, scram, rails. Raven locking. Helios uncloaks, 80km off. Hammerheads shred the Crapacal’s shields. Not liking this though. Align and hit the microwarp. Out of Raven range. Crapacal starting to hit armor. Interceptor warps in! Damn. Time to scoot. Later drones, hope you find a nice home. Warp to safety.

Meh. Coulda been better. But no point risking the Arazu for a cruiser audit. Run some patrols in the evening. Nothing in the area. The BLOB fears the dark. Chat with an agent. There’s a BLOB in Torrinos, 16 jumps. How can it be 16 jumps?! It’s the same damn region! Takes less to get to Amarr. Whatever. Make the haul. Looks like a BLOB Raven. And looks like the BLOB Raven docks whenever I enter system. Fecking sissy. Fine. Done for the night.

Next day fairly similar. Battleships on gates (as if I couldn’t just jump through them). A couple inties floating patrolling. Looks like they’re sending a different idiot out in a Crapacal this time. He’s running belts. Yeah it’s bait. I’ll bite. Not worried, only criminals get caught in traps. Narrow him down, warp in cloaked. Just as he is warping out. Chase. Belt after belt. Not staying put. He’s not very good bait. Fine, jump one belt ahead.

Seems he did too! At the same distance. Not good. He’s sitting 5km above me. And now he decides to hang around? WTF is up with this guy? He starts heading in towards the belt center, not aligned. Good. Get proper distance, uncloak. Light him up and send in the drones. Completely locked down. All I need is time. Not getting it though. Claw and Taranis on scan. Crapacal into armor. Try to make it work. Claw coming out of warp. It’s Malak! That poor Hurricane chump. Stretch it out. Claw turns on a dime and starts powering towards me. Getting closer, Crapcal still in armor. Not gonna happen. Cloak and change direction. Taranis hits belt. Definitely not gonna happen. Claw screams by. Decloaked! Oh shi-

They’re relocking. Slam the microwarp. Gotta get range. Claw swings around, 25km. Grab a warp target at random. Aligning. Claw has lock, barreling in. No scram? Must be short range. Taranis beelining as well. Crap! Crap! Crap! Claw is at 15km. 12. 10. 9. 8. Warp!!… Geezus! That was way too close.

Hit station and swap out for the Domi. Can take their Raven and a few Inties easy. Undock. They apparently swapped out too. Raven, Phoon, Drake, Crapacal, and an Astarte. Damn. That’s a bit too much. Take some damage. Dock back up. Ponder. How the hell am I gonna break these guys?

Audit Log 20070902.0105 – Another two days and prospects for collecting on BLOB seem grim. Their tactics are proving rather effective. Keep a close eye on commchannels, dock up their infrastructure ships, run heavy patrols with overwhelming force. Not liking this at all. I hate smart conservative suspects. Makes audits so much more difficult.

Few times I’ve managed to catch them alone, they disengage. Most notable being this Malik Kalak chump. Always around, always on patrols. Seems to be itching for revenge. Caught him outside station a few times for a little mano y mano. But apparently doesn’t believe he can take a Domi solo with his Phoon. With self-esteem like that, he’s probably right. Instead he docks, or calls in Commandship support. Had a few close calls with that. Had to scurry into station with a broken tank and hull damage a few times. And barely managed to get the AC Domi out of a gatetrap thanks to ECM drones. Be prepared, tax agent motto.

Still have managed some small success in the audit. Did a surprise run into Oimmo. Light patrols. Ishtar, Drake, Crapacal, possible cloaker of some sort. Ishtar could be a concern, might be nano’d. Still gotta risk it. Audits don’t complete themselves. Quick flurry of scans finds a Badger. Narrow it down, warp in. Picking up a can. Probably from a Hulk that docked. Damn. Take what you can get though. Uncloak and make quick work of it. No patrols warp in. Odd. Risk grabbing the evidence. Not bad for a plain vanilla Badger. T2 expanders and a load of illegaly mined Plagio. Confiscate the expanders, pop the rest. Leave nothing, not even the wreck. Not good enough though. Can’t collect just by auditing haulers. Need to hit something better. Something alot better.

BLOB outstanding taxes and fines now stand at 79,000,000 ISK.

Audit Log 20070903.01617 – It always makes me smile when an audit ends successfully. Concord mail arrived an hour ago. That damn Mr Yulai guy. But he was too slow this time! Audit already completed. Ha! Most amusing part is the BLOB fools don’t realize they have already lost. ‘Course they lost the moment they failed to pay their taxes. They just never realize until it’s too late.

Final collection occurred earlier this morning. Running some Oimmo patrols. Only two suspects in local. Some faceless chump in a Drake, off in deadspace currying favor with corrupt elements of the Navy no doubt. Other is Drago Musevenii, sounds like some sort of greasy foreigner. No idea where he is. Unfortunate. No real urge to try and probe out the Drake, but it’s all we got at the moment. Head to HQ to swap out to a ProbeDomi and there’s Drago… in a Rook. About 50km off. Combat Recon. Bit tougher than the Arazu. More weapons, more fittings, better resists. Screw it! Gotta go for i-…

It disappears! Cloak eh? Interesting. Wonder why he did that. Didn’t see me, still cloaked myself. Start heading in that general direction. Might be able to pull this off. He decloaks! Oh my. He’s apparently “over-charged” his confidence a bit. Already in scram range. Uncloak, launch drones, hit the microwarp. Have him locked and damped before his sensors even clear. What was he thinking? Been flying twice as long as I have, he should know better. You want to cloak, use a Falcon! Seems he’s got microwarp as well. Trying to rabbit, but nowhere near as fast as me. Shields dropping, but not quick. Damn T2 resists.

Close the distance. The big gamble. Let him get a lock. Need him aggro’d. Can’t let him dock. But if he gets a jam, this could get ugly. He goes for it! Jams miss!! (thankgod!) But the first volley of missiles doesn’t. Furies. Ouch. That’s enough of that! Back out to 30km, damp him hard. He’s out of cap. Still might not work if he’s smart though. He’s not! Into armor and he still hasn’t gone after the drones. Doesn’t even have FoFs. Heh. Preparation is everything. Iridium and drone plasma keep hitting. Into structure. Keep a weather eye out for his backup. Nothing. Rook explodes. Pod instawarps escaping final justice.

Not terribly well played on his part. But what can you expect from foreigners? Gotta give him props for not backing down though. Coulda ran to station immediately, but he fought it like a man. Grab the evidence. Nice. Full T2 fit and faction ammo. Recalculate fines and that covers it. BLOB account currently shows a credit of -2,000,000 ISK. Victory tastes sweet.

Audit Log 20070904.01509 – The last 24 hours are always the most eventful. The criminal, in his desperation to avoid justice, struggles in the trap of his own making. Recklessly throws his forces into the IRS meatgrinder hoping that somehow he can score a victory… They never do.

Patrols in the evening came up blank. BLOB pretending to lay low. Few active, none in their usual spots. Hop into low sec to work on some trades. Pirates! A pair of vicious hooligans attacking those noble freedom fighters of Mito – the Black Rabbits. And apparently tearing the Rabbits a new one. Not good. Lock up to see what help I can provide. Geddon at 10% armor, Myrm untouched. Start deciding which to damp when there’s a screech of uncloaking. BLOB Bomber! Natas Liah in a Nemesis! Quarter shields gone in the first volley. Devastators. Hate to see what they’d do to my armor. Facing bomber and possibly the hooligans as well. Too much. Warp.

Whip around and return cloaked. Fight is over. Hooligans somehow won, mopping up the spoils. Natas nowhere to be seen. But another BLOB bomber jumps in and cloaks. Interesting. They tried this tactic before, but never gave them the opportunity to use it. Well lets see how well it fails for them. Wait patiently. Pays off, Natas uncloaks as bait. A bit far off, some tricky warps to get into proper distance. Uncloak and fire. Rails and drones pummel. Other bomber unlcoaks at point blank and fires! Oh boy, this could get ugly. Lock back, cycle damps. Nemesis dying quick. I can do this. Gate activation! BLOB Rapier! Not good. Nemesis pops. Fools! You can’t out-ninja the ninja! Cloak up, sacrifice the drones. Both play the cloaked waiting game. I make my move first. Uncloak, pop the wreck. Unfortunate. Was T2 fit and much of it survived, even the cloak. But if I can’t get it, nobody will. They reply in kind by murdering my drones. Monsters! Still an incomparable success.

Catch some sleep and wake up refreshed for the last couple hours of the audit. Sleeping in space has it’s advantages. One of them is catching a BLOB Hulk on scanner. Yeah baby! The perfect ending! Narrow it in seconds and warp in. Dammit! Too late. There’s a can but no Hu-… Incoming! Meh. It’s just a BLOB Itty V. But waste not, want not. Lock and fire. Give him the bump for good measure. Those blockade runners can be tricky after all. Not tricky enough though. Hauler pops. And final justice is quickly delivered to the pod. Another incoming! BS this time. The Hulk pilot back in a Domi. And lands right on top of me! Crap! Slam the microwarp! Need distance quick. Locked and webbed at 9km, but momentum pulls me through. Out of the web, and damp that biatch down. Bloody hell. That was almost messy. Gonna have to teach this boy a lesson. Chew down it’s shields. Might have problems with the armor though. Pop the hauler wreck and mining can just to be safe. Toss out an offer to let him go for a small fee. He responds by having another BLOB Domi warp in. Mmmm… reckon that means “no”. Pull in the drones and cloak up. Lesson is over.

A follow-up 2-on-1 all-Domi battle at station proves inconclusive. But on the plus side, at least one of them had to dock up first.

And so ends the BLOB audit. Definitely the most skilled group of suspects the IRS has audited so far. Many with over two to three times the amount of flight time I have. While successful, the audit only achieved a 109% collection ratio as oppossed to previous audits that have surpassed the 200% collection mark. Regardless, this audit holds the distinction of being the only one to date where the IRS has not lost a ship. No small feat considering the numbers and skill level of the BLOB. Final tally was Hurricane, Drake & Pod, Badger, Rook, Nemesis, and Iteron V & Pod. Can’t help but think that it would have been easier and cheaper for them to just have paid the 100 million.

Taxman IV: Rogue Agent

Audit Log 20070925.0404 – The glow of success following the BLOB audit faded quickly. Returned to office to pop a booster or two. Instead found a pair of messages waiting. Corsa quit. And Little Foreign Officegirl on “extended shopping leave”. Just fecking great. Give ’em a low-paying job (well non-paying to be exact) and they just milk you for experience and then bail for better opportunities first chance they get. Nice loyalty. Doesn’t that just figure. Bloody foreigners. Certainly took the cheer off a bit. Whatever. Still got me and… me, and… *sigh*… Crap.

Gave some time for reflection, though. And boosters. Lots of boosters. Thought about the state of the State. Conclusion wasn’t good. Like the other so called empires, Caldari is corrupt as well. Too many brutish mouth-breathing Civre, too many scheming selfish Achura. Too long under the yoke of CONCORD. Caldari is no longer Caldari. Just another feifdom of the CONCORD puppetmasters. The brilliant Deteis drive and ingenuity are gone. Replaced by thuggish violence, scheming self-interest, and extravagent spending. Might as well be the Fed or Republic. Citizens spend their ISK poorly, the government cannot be counted on, the bureaucracy is rotten to the core. Hi-sec Caldari is no longer a place for the IRS. Time to take matters into our own hands. Throw off the shackles of the CONCORD system. Become a rogue agent. Redeem the State by force. Make every citizen meet their financial obligations, or make them die trying. Tough love, it’s the only way. Must wake them up from their CONCORD induced slumber. Must make them see that I can spend their ISK better than they can.

Took a week or so to recover from the binge. Cleaned up, called some old friends. The Bunnies. Black Rabbits. Guristas. They’re forming an alliance. I’m in. State calls them terrorists, I know them as the financially-prudent politically-visionary freedom-fighters they truely are. They’re all there too. Koffie, C6, Tainted, SN#, Ridley on his way back, bunches of others. Even the overly large, hairy, gravelly-voiced, socially-inept beast-thing that they call their CEO is there as well. Great. Wonder who she started a war with this time. And for what reason? Serving her the wrong brand of dogfood? Who knows. Doesn’t matter. Just means more targets in hi-sec without CONCORD interference.

And apparently quite a few targets it will be. Five wars. APEX, ATTC, CAIN, some others. Turning Molden Heath into an inferno. Good. The more opportunity to spread economic advice, the better. Never been to Minnie space though. Wonder if they have running water. Will I have to get vaccinations? Should I bring shiny beads or metal tools to trade to the locals? Gonna have to check a travel-file first.

Audit Log 20070927.0513 – Turns out that the travel-files say the Minnie are a marginally advanced people. Won’t need the shiny beads. Apparently they can even read and write. Go figure. Seems a bit creepy though, kinda like a dog talking. Just ain’t right. But that won’t stop the IRS. Nothing does. Death and taxes are inevitable… and when the IRS is involved they’re usually the same thing.

Hop in the Arazu. Got extra iridium and some boosters. Good to go. Check the map. About 20 jumps. Not too bad. Start heading down, checking commchat for tax evaders as I go. Sadly all clear. Hit Gallente space and commchat goes wild. Alarms flashing, sirens wailing, Fed Navy popping out of nowhere. Commchannels overriden, nasally Gal voice shouts that I’m wanted for crimes against the Fed. Oh not good. Cloak jammed. Very not good. Slam the microwarp back towards the gate and jump. Geez. Kill some Fed Navy and the garlic-eaters take it so personal. Some people. Gonna pose some problems though. Spend the next hour or so working the map. A little backtracking and can make the jump through Amarr space. Good. They might be a bit off, but at least the fanatics respect strong tax enforcement.

Finally roll into Oddelulf in the late evening. Setup the hangar and then head into hi-sec to hunt some infrastructure. Find nothing.

Next day. Nothing.

Following day. Nothing.

The next day. Finally! A red. Jumps in at the gate I’m cloaked by. CAIN Raptor. Mmmm… not good. Don’t like inties much. Well don’t like anything that’s faster than me to be honest. But maybe he’s a scout for something juicy. Raptor dithers a bit and heads back to gate. And jumps out. Odd. Scared of a red in system? Give it a few seconds and jump after. A few more CAIN in system. Well that’s good. But scanning shows they’re in inties too. That’s not good. And more hop into system. Assault frigs and BCs. That’s not good as well. About 10 now. And they seem to be looking for me. Good luck with that. They see one red and they go berzerk. Pfft. They have no concept how to bait somebody in. Amateurs.

Well enough of this. Head back to Oddelulf. Bunnies are running a taxation checkpoint on a local gate. About time I got rid of this sec standing anyway. Free myself from the shackles of CONCORD once and for all. Fit up a Myrm, head on over. Within moments there’s a jump in. Drop the sentries, prime the rails, ready the scram. Hauler uncloaks. An obvious unrepentant tax evader if I ever saw one! Lock and hit the scram! He’s… out of range? What?! He uncloaked 40km off gate. Warps away with barely even a thought. Bloody hell. Seems Minnie gates are too big. “Marginally advanced people” my ass! They can’t even build a proper gate!

We get it figured out. Two squads, either side. Next hour passes dreamily. Cyclones, Ruppies, haulers, even a Domi. All of them obvious tax evaders. All of them sentenced to have their assets redistributed with extreme prejudice. It’s easy work if you can get it. A bit of a vacation compared to the high-intensity audits. Only downside is the evidence all earmarked for the alliance. Gotta pay for the wars somehow. Not sure I like it though. APEX, ATTC, CAIN – apparently none of them enter low-sec much. So much for their political posturing and promises to impose CONCORD oppression. All talk.

Head back to hangar. Dock the ship, reload ammo, make sure everything is just so. Turn off the lights and clonejump back to Mito. If I’m gonna trash the sec standing, gotta move stuff outta hi-sec. Joy.

Audit Log 20070929.0728 – They say the three most stressful things in life are getting married, opening a new business, and moving. Well at least they got one right. Jumping ships into lowsec without a scout is never fun. Jumping them into Ots with all it’s Morsus pets is even worse. True, most of ’em are incompetent. I should know, I’ve audited a good chunk of them. Still, quantity has a quality all of it’s own. And when you’re moving expensive evidence, odds are you’re gonna have a bad roll.

Amazingly, hauler jumps went fine. Combat ships moving well too. Myrms, the frigs, all a piece of cake. Hop in one of the Domis to ferry that over. Diversionary warp to safe, and then to gate and jump. Sensors taking awhile to clear. Not a good sign. Overview finally resolves… and its a wall of ships. Crap. And they’re all Morsus. Double crap. Takes less than a second to make the decision. Still in good graces with CONCORD, might not recognize me. Toss out the “hi” in commchat, uncloak, and bluff as the hapless innocent. Start aligning. Immediately draw some locks. Uh-oh. Wince, waiting for the instapop. And warp. Hit the station and dock. Geez. Not fun.

Take a few minutes to recuperate, clear cargo, organize gear. Hop in a shuttle and head out. And find myself surrounded by gigantic ships. Freighters. A veritable sea of of them! 6. 7. 8. 9!! A giant convoy of pure ISK. Morsus camp makes sense now. No time to appreciate though. Commandship locking. Apparently doesn’t like me hanging around. If only I had a gigantic fleet. Or a Titan. Or even just a cargo scanner. Sigh.

After a small break, rest of the move goes smoothly. Still got a few hours until next clonejump though. Might as well kill some time. And some tax evaders. Throw a probe launcher on the backup Arazu and undock. Hop around system, run some scans. Keep on showing a Helios. Hmm. Odd. Narrow it down and toss out a probe. Warp on the result at range. And I’m shocked. It’s at a tower. A BLOB tower. A BLOB tower still in the process of being set up. And the Helios is outside the forcefield. And it’s Brian5600, the last criminal brought to justice during the BLOB audit. Amusingly, had received a message from his CEO. Apparently the hooligan never reported his ship loss. Had to send them a copy of it. Well let’s see if he can report this one.

Quick survey of the tower shows some cruise launchers, webifier, and a scram. An Itty5 parked inside, piloted by the criminal’s alternate twin brother. And some other faceless BLOB turd in his pod. Should be able to do this. POS weapons have pretty slow locks. Slink into close range. Drones gotta hit quick and hard. Uncloak, drones, scram, rails. Helios is halfway thru armor before it even realizes what is happening. Start aligning. Keep an eye on the POS guns. Helios pops, pull in the drones and warp! Waa-taaahh!! Ninja kill under their own tower!! Heh. Too easy.

Head back cloaked to see what they do. Lurk 200km off and wait. They’ll have to check the wreck at some point. Only takes 30 seconds to reach that point. The Itty5 starts putting out of the forcefield. Oh, you poor idiot. Align on the wreck and warp. Drop the drones, scram, give it the bump for good measure. Grab the Helios loot in the meantime. CovOps Cloak survived, nice! Hauler struggling. Has a shield booster. How cute. Doesn’t save it though. It’s a bloody hauler. Pops. Check the evidence, mostly garbage. Grab what I ca– Missle hit! Ow! WTF?! It’s the POS!! Turd in the pod running the guns. Crap crap crap!! Hit the AB. Webbed. Dammit! This ship costs too much! I can’t die to a POS! Slam warp in desperation. It works? It works!! Yeah baby!!! Warp and cloak. Geez that was close. Take a quick breather and recheck the tower. Turd in the pod is outside the forcefield… onlining the warp disruption battery. Ahh. That’s why. Some call it luck. At the IRS we call it fate.

Despite no audit, BLOB credit now stands at -31,000,000 ISK.

Taxman V: Back in Black

Audit Log 20080527.0419 – Over half a year. Been that long since I last stepped into the Oimmo office. So much crap since the last time. The last run with the Rabbits. The alliance idiocy of that incompetent cow Naphtalia. The runs the Mugen and Virus. The slow and bitter disillusionment with what I had become. And then the Gallente product recall which was the final nail. Broken. Shattered. Gave up on the pod-life. Took up the old Vicky Norton alias, went planetside, did odd jobs, ran out of boosters. Hit bottom. Was in a Zaniou clinic to sell off some organs when I saw it. The battleboat holo. And I remembered what I was. What I needed to do. To come back home.

Contacted some old Navy friends. Caught up on the local gossip. Ishukone station ran into a Nyx? Sucks to be you. Should watch where you’re driving your station, not my problem. Just here to make happy with the CONCORD. Took a couple weeks, but made it happen. Hellish grind but finally done. And here I am again. Finally. In Oimmo. Home. Office is dusty. Apparently the little foreign office boy quit. Said something about being a bad boss and not valuing his opinion. Not sure, wasn’t really paying attention. Think I had some other employees too. Whatever. If they don’t show up to work then they’re fired. Don’t have room for slackers or quitters in the IRS. We’re all about integrity and work ethic here. And if I’m the only agent, then it’s up to me to pick up the slack. The job never gets done by itself. Hit the hangar lights. Part and slick the hair. Clip on the thin tie. Shrug on the black suit. Time to do some justice.

Audit Log 20080528.1211 – There are few crimes worse than tax evasion. One of them is unlicensed mining. It’s disgusting how deeply the corruption has sunk into my fair Oimmo. Must have been away for too long. No one to blame but myself I guess. Well not really. It is always the criminal’s fault. I just say stuff like that to try and show some empathy for them. Never works, they still end up dying regardless. In any case, found my first vict-… Encountered a perpetrator today. Was running patrols in the trusty Moa. Pair of Hulks out mining in the far belts. Kessel Moria Syndicate (KMS). Seen this crew before. Tried to catch them in the act a few other times but their haulers were quick to grab the cans. Not this time though!

Warp in, swing the Moa around, start powering towards them at just over 250m/s. And powering. Still powering. They light me up with their targeters. Oooohhh Hulks, scary. Err… Warp-ins. Crapacal, Rifter, and a Cerb. Ok that’s kinda scary. But I’m in a Moa! And I’m a tax enforcement agent. They wouldn’t dare! Finally arrive at the can and open it up. Just as I thought! Illegal mining. And what’s this? Militants?! Who keeps Militants in a mining can? Something’s fishy. Confiscate the Militants and all hell breaks loose. Ok, so they would dare. Slam the MWD (always keep the guessing), launch the ECM drones, start locking. Rifter is all over me. Web. Crap! Fling the drones at it and blast away with the ACs (like I said, keep them guessing). Obliterate it’s shields and the Rifter bugs out. Meh, sissy. Missiles doing a number on my shields as well. And more ships warping in. A poorly laid trap perhaps? Strange. But I got the distance, align to station and warp.

Now what to do with the Militants… Questioning them gets me nowhere. Gonna have to interrogate KMS. Quick scan. Station P7-CNA. Warp in and… oh my! Domi, drake, ferox, vexor, rifter, thorax, and an incursus. Right. Lots of drones, use the geography to my advantage. Burn down along the bottom of the station, get them caught up and strung out. Trade some potshots with the Incursus. And then they pull back the drones. WTF? Oh, the Concord timer expired. Well for everyone except the Incursus. It’s a little Intaki trollop named Riskia. Well now it’s pay back time. Bear down and lay in with the ACs. Awww, having problems docking with that aggro timer little girl? Slap a point on as she tries to align. Silly little frog tramp, you can’t escape death or taxes! Continue spraying with the ACs. Ok, so the 425s were overkill, go with 220s next time. Takes a few tries but finally finish her off. Her goonsquad can do nothing but watch. Well let it be a lesson for them. Check the wreck and it’s garbage. Typical of the welfare state she hails from. And the rest are tight-lipped about the Militants. Fine. Jettison the Militants in a can and execute them for suspected tax crimes. See how they like that! But there’s something sinister going on here. Gonna have to keep a close eye on KMS. A close eye indeed.

Audit Log 20080529.0803 – Another day, another tax. Rolling patrols again, this time with the Vexor. ACs again, of course. Those monkey Mini slaves don’t have alot of things going for them, but ACs are definitely one of them. Love these things. Hopping belts looking for criminals and come across the standard KMS Hulk and Hauler set-up. Coast towards their can for a bit of inspection and they pull it in. Fine. I’ve got time. Go into close orbit and wait. They keep mining. I keep waiting. Come back to the console after a quick shower and find the ship wandering aimlessly off into space. Meh. Trundle back to position and start doing some research.

Kessel Moria Syndicate. Fairly new corp. About 58 members. Some have more than a few years on them, not bad. Seen a few in battleships, hacs, and recons. That’s good. Dig a little deeper and we find the real dirt. NSENT. I knew it! Calvi Industries, the NSENT alliance, the links are all there. The filthy incestuous nature of the North. The NAPs, the back-patting, the kickbacks and shady deals. All these criminals are connected in one way or another. We audited and humbled NSENT before, but cut off one head and they grow another. And when you destroy those, there’s even more behind. NSENT was just a front for something worse. And these jokers are just a front of a front. Layer upon layer of filth, excrement, and crime. There’s a mastermind behind all of this. And one day I will find him. One day.

But for now, I must deal with the problem at hand. I’ve had enough of waiting. KMS has past due taxes. Strangely, the same exact amount every criminal corporation has been past due. 100 million. Audit time. Send “The Letter”. 24 hours for them to do the right thing. They never do. Why bother? Because we must follow the process. Submit or be ground to dust by the inexorable wheels of the IRS bureaucracy. Those are the only choices.

Audit Log 20080531.1624 – Well this is a first. No witless response from the criminal. No claims of taxes already paid. No vow to fight to the bitter end. No chest thumping or other mongrel idiocy that I normally expect from my clients. Nothing. Just silence. Somewhat unnerving to be honest. Not like the criminal nature at all. Leads me to believe that KMS may be competent after all. Don’t like it. But a job is a job. Nobody ever said being a taxman would be easy.

Log into the Arazu and hit my targeted belt. Empty. Damn! Was hoping for a Hulk and a quick and brutal end to the audit. Oh well, gotta do it the old fashioned way I guess. Scan the system. No obvious targets. Head to their P7-CNA HQ… and they they are. Their little mob of thugs warping off one at a time towards P9. Hit my safe nearby. Scan, within 5au at a safe. Raven, Maller, Crapacal, and Griffin. Drop a probe and wait. Perfect hit. Warp in at range for some recon. And looks like they’re warping out right as I’m coming in. Annoying. Head towards their last known position. Make a rough guesstimate with time and speed to get a good bookmark. Then head towards their other warp. Another probe. They’re savvy though. Got a probe of their own out, and they’re warping back to P9. Well maybe they aren’t savvy enough. Warp to my mark and it wasn’t too far off. Still just the four. I know the Arazu sucks these days, but I’m feeling spunky. Can cut out the Crapacal, I know I can. Stretch the neck muscles, flex the fingers, uncloak and it’s on!

Drop the drones during cloak timer, then start targetting. Raven, Griffin, Crapacal. Don’t care about the Maller, it’s a worse than useless ship. Damp the Raven, guns on Griffin, drones on Cra-… Jammed! Dammit. Check my range and cap. Missiles starting to come in. Ouch. Gotta wrap this up quick. Ship explosion! Jam clears. Faithful little drones got the Griffin. Guess that quick frig lock wasn’t so great for him after all. Lock up the remainders. Drones & guns on Crapacal, damps on Raven. Cuts down the damage a bit, but still about to hit armor. Drones doing their work, but not fast enough. Got more criminals coming in too. Domi and Myrm. Not good. Crapacal halfway thru shields, enemy drones in the air, and I’m in 3/4 armor. Shoulda been switching damps back and forth. Damn, out of practice. Time to turn and burn. Range them out and wait for the drones. Still got their Hammerheads coming in, with some Ogres in the background. Might as well pick off a drone for insult. Keep my distance and lay in with the iridium. Take it into struct when there is a sudden draft in the ship. Huh? There’s holes in my ship. Big ones. Look down and I’m in structure myself. WTF?! Slam the warp button and check for attackers. No missiles, no ships, no dr-… The ship explodes around me. What the hell was that?! Slam warp again and hit a belt.

What hit me? What was it? I kept my range. There were no missiles. Drones were over 30km off. Sure as hell woulda noticed a Sniper Mega. Was it a Doomsday? And hey! I lost my Arazu. Wierd. First one I ever lost to hostile fire. Had it for every audit. Woulda thought I’d be more upset. I don’t even really care. Strange.

Ponder the ramifications as I warp to gate. Jump, hit station, and check the hangar. The one thing I’ve learned about criminal mindset is that they never expect you to come back. They always expect you to think like they do. Idiots. Hop in the Domi and undock. Not sure which one this is. Run a quick systems check mid-warp. Right. Jump back in system and warp to bookmark. They’re still there! And I land right on top the Raven.

Surprise beetchezz! It’s payback time!

Audit Log 20080531.1624 – Cont. – Lock up the Raven. It’s one of their scheming little Achura dragon-ladies, “Seven Below”. What the hell kinda name is that? Seven below what? Seven points below standard IQ for not paying your taxes? Is it how deep you want me to bury you? Whatever. All that matters is that I redistribute your assests. Launch the Ogres, web & point, cover the 5km in seconds with MWD. And then start laying in with the Electrons. What? Were you expecting ACs? Always keep them guessing. Quick overview has the Domi and Myrm a good ways off, Valks incoming, Maller at useless ranges as well, Crapacal at range spitting out the occassional missile. No Titan or Doomsday that I can see. Still not sure what got the Arazu. But probably not gonna make it outta this one in any case.

Turn attention back to the Raven. It’s tossing out Mjii Torps. Against an Armor ship? Moron. Ogres chewing thru it’s shields. If it’s repping, not doing it well. Own armor is falling pretty quick. Single rep trying to keep up. Looks like I’m getting neuted too. Not good. Injector struggling, but it’s only a medium. Not sure what that’s all about. Quarter armor and Raven is at half shields. Electrons still pummeling, but feeling that tightness in the back of the throat. Valks all over me. Taking some hard hits from something. Bouncers! Domi is using sentries. Bastard. That’s what got the Arazu. This is really not going to be good. Dipping into structure and capping out as Raven falls to low shields. Numbers begin flashing by. 100mil taxes + 2mil audit fee + 98mil Arazu + 120mil Domi == Big Fvcking Deficit to overcome. Christ. Another injection, another rep! Raven shields fail, it’s armor goes into freefall. Taking you with me b*tch! Damage Control the only thing keeping me alive. Half structure. Well aimed electron blasts, Raven into hull. Quarter structure. Another rep cycle! Ogres spewing plasma. Raven half hull. Wrecking strikes! Raven shudders and explodes. Slam the warp button. GTFO! Pull the drones. Armor down again, spewing flames. Aligning. More hull hits. Warp!

Warp fails half-way. Capped out. Check the readouts. 15% structure. Close one. But going solo against two battleships and a battlecruiser, that can happen. They should have brought three. We are the IRS after all. Finish the warp to station and land right next to Seven Below’s pod. Oh hello! Locky locky! Bah. Docked. Spend a few moments repping up. No worries about them following to finish me off. They’re not that smart. Dock, pay the repairs for hull. Start some quick tabulations. Current KMS bill stands at 107 million (107,000,000 ISK) in outstanding taxes. Damn that Arazu was an expensive piece of crap. Oh well. Can’t make an omlete without breaking some eggs.

Hop into Cov Ops. Cloak up in a safe. Lean back in the pod and start doing some paperwork. An hour or so passes when I notice local comms squawking. It’s Arsehatles (or something like that), a silly little KMS thug who apparently stylizes himself as a “brave warrior”. How amusing. Whining about tax agents being cloaked. Not engaging. Oh really? Miss that part where your Raven just got owned? Very well then. Quick scan and rub my eyes. Can’t believe what I’m seeing. A Hulk. Unbelievable. Did they really think I’d go afk? Oh no wait. There’s Arsehat in a Manitcore. Awww… what a cute little trap. I’ll bite though. How can I not with that bait. Warp back to station. KMS Moa outside. Grrr. Sit cloaked ’til it leaves. Never let them know you’re coming. Finally gone, dock up. Walk down the hangar line and pick out the Vexor. Quick pat on the hull. Haven’t been with me for too long, and don’t think you’ll be coming back from this one babe. But let’s give them all you’ve got.

Audit Log 20080531.1624 – Cont. – Undock the Vexor and warp to target. There’s the Hulk. It’s Captn g, pitiful excuse for Deteis if I ever saw one. No mate, you’re not a captain. You’re in a hulk, you’re just a target. Launch the drones. Light him up. Triple pointed just to be sure. Wait for the Falcon and Manticore… Nothing. My god, they failed at their own trap! Hulk’s drones are trying to fight back. Props for that at least, most hulk pilots just do the fetal curl. Armor just getting scratched when the Hulk detonates.

Still no backup. Wait. Solo Moa warps in. Score! I got a bonus round! Lock him up and send in the drones. ACs start chewing as well. It’s got some tank on it. And then the screen turns red. Myrm, Rifter, Manti, and then an Abbadon lands right on top of me. Ewww. There’s the back-up. Drones still working on the Moa. It’s into armor. Myrm drones on me, armor vanishing. Moa half armor. Abbadon opens up. Ouch! Moa in hull, so am I. You can do it little Vexor! You can! Prep for the pod warp. Explosion! How many? Pod warps. Check the log! Did we get the Moa? Dammit! Missed it. Failed the bonus stage. Shoulda overheated the guns. Keep forgetting to do that. Still, got the Hulk. And it was even rigged. Nice. Hope Arsehat is happy and got everything he wished for.

Current KMS bill stands at 1 million (1,000,000 ISK) in past due taxes.

Audit Log 20080601.2359 – Some days just end up that way. Had a nice bit of celebrating after the previous day’s success. Figured after a sleepless night of boosters and alcohol, nothing would ring in a new day like a bit of auditing. Stumbled out of the Pod Pilot’s Lounge, and bounced my way down to the hangar. Took a few tries, but finally got myself into the Arazu. Undock, and blearily take a look around. There’s that KMS Moa again, right on the undock. It’s Pman1993, Gallente transvestite who caters to the the deviant miner culture. Scum. Dock back up and switch to the rebuilt Vexor. Barge out of station and look for the Moa. It’s turned into a Thorax. Ok that’s weird. Take a second look just to be sure. Yep, that’s a Thorax all right. And it’s Pman. Whatever. Charge at it and send in the drone. Veer off into orbit at 9km with the web and point. Blasters are only useful when they’re in range. Thorax shreds and dies without even landing a hit. Backup arrives too late as always. Drake, Myrm, Brutix, some cruisers. Trundle back to the wreck while they pound on me. T2 cap rechargers, plain vanilla weapons and tank. Failfit. Pathetic. Dock up and sort the evidence.

Try to remember where I parked the Arazu. Get myself back into that and undock. They’re gone. Short attention span I guess. Quick scan shows them huddling by their P7 HQ. And Pman is back in it’s Moa. Except it is not showing up in local commchat. Unbelievable. Drope a probe, warp to hit. A mil km off. Your idiocy must be painful, please let me help you. Drones and rails. Still has a decent tank, takes a few seconds longer than I’d expect. Wreck evidence is just as bad as before. And off goes the pod. Run another scan. Warp in at optimal. Some might show mercy at this point. But that word has never been in any accounting handbook I’ve ever read. Two volleys and it’s back in station to reflect upon the error of it’s ways.

Now where’s the rest of ’em? Only 6 more left. Warp to their HQ. Cowering in the shadows of the station, some of them completely refusing to undock. I set up camp and watch. They continue to cower. Should probably feel bad about blobbing them in like this, but still haven’t found a way to fight effectively with less than one tax agent. Besides, they called this on themselves when they didn’t pay their taxes. Remainder of evening passes with drunken local banter to old comrades, and confining the criminals to station. Instead of a bang, the audit day ends with a mellow goodnight. Happens. Life of a taxman isn’t glory and action all the time.

Current KMS account shows a -9 million ISK credit, to be held as deposit for future violations against the tax code.

Audit Log 20080603.0211 – An amusing if somewhat uneventful day. Ended a bit strange though. Spent the evening dueling with Arsehat, the make believe captain Targt g, and some other faceless twit flying a shield tanking Myrm. Had decided to use my own Myrm today. A proper Myrm mind you. Camped outside their HQ again. Took a bit, but they finally worked up enough courage to come out. Arsehat in a Raven, Targt g in a Griffin, the other scum in the Myrm abomination. Decided to play a favorite game of mine called “watch me kill your drones”. Pop the Griffin with some Hobgobbies, then lead their drones away. Quick web and some ACs. Dead Hammerhead II. Apparently they want to try it too. Manage to pick off one of my Hobgoblins. Rookie luck. We go back and forth. 3 Hammerheads for me, to 1 Hammer, 1 Hob for them. The IRS always wins. Bump into an old Oimmo regular Lharia Longrifle. Explain the game, and how I am completely owning the KMS scum. She’s amused but has the gall to actually say that my ego will be my undoing someday. Pfft! I am IRS agent. I am justice. And justice can never be undone. Laugh off her silly words… yet have a sense of foreboding. As if something ominous has been released. Bah! Superstitious idiocy.

KMS account currently stands at a -10 million (-10,000,000 ISK) credit to be held as deposit against further violations of the tax code.

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