Contrary to what they'll tell you about law and order, the Empire is a great place to live a life of gambling, theft, and debauchery, as long as you know where to look.

The illustrious superpower has as seedy an underbelly as any of them, the difference being that they're far more embarrassed to admit it. For the underbelly in question, this works out just fine- the Empire cares too much about its image to reveal that its worlds aren't as squeaky-clean and shiny as its capital ships, so it leaves well enough alone. Its higher ups fear that a concerted campaign to stamp out the sizable underworld that's formed under their rule would... well, give away the fact that a sizable underworld has formed under their rule. The public is kept ignorant through propaganda, and the criminals flourish, so long as they don't rock the boat too hard.

CMDR Nora Stelle was one of the criminals at issue. The young woman lived off the glitz and glamour of organized crime, making something of a name for herself in the Empire's back alleys and gambling ships. And then she rocked the boat too hard. See, the Empire is only forgiving to a point. If you steal a prototype from Gutamaya and make it your personal ship, they'll take issue with that- and Stelle underestimated just how adept the royal guard really were at catching criminals, when they wanted to be. So the CMDR was hauled before her sector's Punishment Overseer (stupid fucking name, she'd thought to herself at the time) and given a choice: she could take a bullet to the head kneeling there on the ground, or she could sell herself into the Empire's trademark debt slavery to pay back what she "owed to society." It was while the Overseer was prattling on about the nobility of voluntary slavery that Nora Stelle noticed something very important: the guards who had searched her hadn't found the knife in her boot.

A dozen men died that day, by her count, and probably more were executed for their comical failure. With the tax men clawing at her back and her face plastered on every screen in Achenar, Stelle didn't see much option but to hit the bricks. The trip to Colonia was long and not particularly safe, but having stolen the Overseer's ship, it wasn't as bad as it could have been. She wasn't particularly quiet in her departure, leaving shiny white wreckages strewn about the Colonia Bridge, but it didn't matter. She was willing to run further than they were willing to chase her. That ship, the Jackknife, has become a minor legend in Colonia. Recently it's been seen hanging around Lycanthrope, and the raider with the orange X for a mask is starting to be whispered about in the same seedy undergrounds that she came from.

They'll never catch her, she says with a smirk, while sharing her story between hands. Against all odds, she seems to be right.