The Taxman Chronicles I

July 7, 2017 | Author: Deborah Atkinson | Category: N/A
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The Taxman Chronicles I The Taxman Cometh

Vladimir NorkofF Agent Income Redistribution Service

In an age of darkness... At a time of crisis... When chaos and carnage sweep across the four great Empires of EvE...

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...

And so begins the first installment of the critically acclaimed Taxman series. Other chapters being Taxman II: Amarr Safari, Taxman III: Attack of the Blob, Taxman IV: Rogue Agent (sucked - don't read), Taxman V: Back in Black, Taxman VI: Voided Ledger, and Taxman VII: Kingdom of Vlad. As always thanks to all of our readers for the comments and feedback we have received. For those who do not enjoy the audit logs, please get cancer and die.

All material herein property of Vladimir Norkoff, Agent of the IRS (Income Redistribution Service) Transferrence from EvE Online forum articles and formatting by Jorshan No Proofreading or modification of original forum Audit Logs has been done. Does not include comments to forum Audit Log posts from original forum articles.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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 s****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.

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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.

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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

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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.

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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.

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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 setup! 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.

16 The Taxman Chronicles I: The Taxman Cometh

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!

The Taxman Chronicles I: The Taxman Cometh 17

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.

18 The Taxman Chronicles I: The Taxman Cometh

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.

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