The darkness fades into static as the video feed initializes. After a few jittery bursts, the view stabilizes and a small, starkly furnished metallic room is visible. The unmade bed, desk, and closet fill most of the available space, and through an open doorway at the back of the room a cramped washroom is visible. A man is leaning over the camera adjusting something -- the image scatters again before finally coming into focus. As he leans back into the chair next to his desk, his face becomes visible. He appears to be in his mid twenties, with a sharp jawline, thick lips, and deeply sunken eyes. A Caldari citizen identification barcode has been tattooed on his right cheek. His hair has been buzzed off in the Caldari military style, but the bristles on his chin and scalp are ragged and numerous. He seems to have trouble looking directly into the camera lense for any length of time, and clears his throat nervously before beginning to speak.
Begin personal journal, Kragstar, Ethan J. Caldari Citizenship Identification Number 348159267. Password is bREh5Get. Confirm password: bravo, romeo captial, echo capital, hotel, five, golf capital, echo, tango.
The terminal on Ethan's desk beeps in the affirmative.
Begin entry one.
This is Ethan James Kragstar's personal journal. I don't really know what to say, I've never . . . done anything like this before. I'm a pod pilot . . . and a Caldari soldier. My original body is, uh, twenty six years old. Right now, uh, I'm in the Korsiki system . . . training for . . .
Ethan trails off, staring at a spot on the floor and seemingly unaware of the nervous tic in his leg that has been developing throughout his short monologue. Suddenly he looks up, reaching towards the camera.
This is stupid. I already know who I am. Why I let him talk me into this I have no-
The feed abruptly ends.
*End of Entry*