The 'New Message' icon blinks, patient and constant, awaiting a decision: to read, or to leave alone? The decision made, the field clears to a pre-recorded semi-holo of a small, red-headed Gallente woman with a tattoo on one cheek and serene fire in her eyes, dressed in brown leather bearing both Federal and pirate patches. She seems about to speak, then pauses for a moment to consider her words.

I'm not... quite certain how to begin this. I could spin you stories of how I despise the Amarr and would see the Holders dead, their holdings in ruins, and while that may be what you wish to hear... it would not be the truth.

She blinks and looks down, frowning, then returns her gaze to the camera.

By now you have no doubt located my records. Yes, I am a pirate. I've had a long and rather lucrative career of it, and I do not ask forgiveness for my actions. It is neither mine to ask nor yours to offer, at any rate.

I am here--or rather, I am sending this message--to request consideration as an aspirant to the Beh'hude.

My reasons are... complicated, and I would be lying if I did not admit to feeling nervous. It would be, after all, a drastic change to what I have known.

Not once in all my days of preying upon both the unsuspecting and the prepared alike have I not acknowledged the results of my actions, the cost to others -- I know full well what it is I do. I have little respect for the Empires as their laws protect fiends and make mockery of those who attempt to do good. How can one respect a system wherein the enslavement of innocents is accepted, where superiors would have you destroy your morals and do a little evil in order to make them look good?

The woman pauses for a moment, a fleeting, tender smile crossing her face as if in fond remembrance.

My partner has expressed similar disappointment, though he bears far more loyalty to the Federation than I do. I suppose you could say he's been a good influence on me -- more and more I find myself discontent with my career, and I feel it is time to seek some small redemption.

I cannot turn to the Federation for that; with a war-monger in charge, there would be little I could do which would not feel more foul than what I have done in the past. As it is, I feel the existing strife cannot but damage the last shreds of dignity that remain in the cluster.

She leans forward a little, gazing intently into the camera, making disconcerting eye contact across time and space.

The Beh'hude offers what the empires cannot: a chance to be a part of something greater, a chance to aid those who have no other hope. A chance to spit in the eye of Empire law and declare it unjust.

In return, I offer my skills as an experienced combat pilot to add to your strength. I have been a capsuleer for two and a half years; in that time, I have known nothing but combat in all its varied styles and forms, and will soon be certified for all Gallente ships up to Command-class. My current operating hours are approximately five hours behind galactic standard.

She sits back again, her green eyes turned down, smiling somewhat abashedly.

There may be some who are... cautious of my rather cavalier attitude towards discipline. In the past, I have made mistakes which I find myself now shaking my head over. How foolish I was, how self-centred. I would like to make it known that I am willing to accept instructions and to contribute all I have to offer; I feel nothing of the entitlement I once did. There is much I have to make up for.

Her arm moves towards something outside the camera's range, ostensibly preparing to end the recording. She glances one last time towards the lens.

I realise that you are quite busy just now. I'd like to assure you that I do not expect a quick decision to be made on my part. If there is one thing I have learned from the last two and a half years, it is patience. Until such time as you have the opportunity to consider this petition, I will be available to chat in your public comms channel.

With respect, Shae Tiann out.

The view fuzzes at the edges with static before the field collapses to an end.