I seriously hate hormones- they’re simply in the way of logical thinking. Which- incidentally is a feat a pirate is VERY dependant on.

 Yesterday I got to talk with a lovely Amarran pilot, turned Gallente. I normally avoid these faction jumpers, ut since she too was turning pirate, or atleast buccaneer, I thought to give it a try…

We met in one of the gallente navy stations in Essence, and though she was a bit distant to my approach, she finally accepted me at least as a conversational partner. A few drinks later, and we were chatting amicably.
 I´m a guy.. talking to a girl whose also into ships, bolts, nuts, weapons... as if nature guided us, we went into a game of "I´ll show you mine, if you show me yours"
- Lasha as her name was, invited me to look at her Ishkur, a slim and sexy assault frigate. Gallentean no less... I was easy to lead on, and as we exchanged technical information and warm feelings in the heat of the flight hangars, i felt i had met my mate ... hormones were going haywire as she invited me for a spin.

 Imagine my glee as we sped through the asteroids at 1100m/s, blowing to bits a wing of Angel Cartel rats hunting for prey nearby. They hardly knew what hit them as she swooped in with her Ishkur, T2 blasters and faction antimatter. They  never stood a chance. Target, attack, NOS, and shoot. 5 T2 drones to help out - it was a ballet of death which the Angels were destined to lose even before it started.

- "Your skills as pilot is impressive,Lasha, only surpassed by one i believe" i told her warmly as we docked.
Her eyes flashed in irritation, only to change into softness and warmth as i stated " ..only surpassed by your grace and beauty..."
- " I could learn you a thing or two, which was never written in the books, my gorgeous asian corncob" she exclaimed(not that i quite took the allegory of the corncob , but hey - my hormones wasnt about to ask...).
"That is - if you are up to it ? ... i like men with balls" - she added.
 I was lost. Not only praise from a feromone filled female, but a challenge as well?

She took out the Ishkur, and i took out Ophelia, my Rifter. We set course for plant II, moon IV, to make sure we wouldnt distrub anyone in the belts, and to be onest i was hoping for a bit more than a dance and a drink...
She Invited me to gang up, as it wouldnt invoke CONCORD in PvP, and she told me softly how to plan my attacks, how to enter attack-vector and how / when to use warpscrambler and webb. Not that i had fitted Ophelia with any of those, my mind simply hadnt thought of it. What i HAD, were two Angel shield platings in my cargo hold, and 6.000 rounds of Navy Antimatter for blasters. I hadnt even refittted the rifter for hard hitting faction ammo for my AutoCannons. Bad Bad Bad is all i can say.

She invited me to lay the first blow, and only laughed at me when i tried to be a gentleman and tell her
" I never hit a lady first" - But i succumbed and opened fire. She had good shields and armour, so i knew i wouldnt win, this was a training session after all, right ? What happened next was a painful lesson.
 From the craceful kitten she had seemed like, she turned into a reincarnation of an Amazone.
" Now - my little playtoy - experience WHY you shouldn´t play with Pirates!!"  
 I was awestruck ... pirates? .. She couldnt be a pirate  ? .. She was lovely, articulate, soft and gentle...no?

Within seconds i was warp scrampled, webbed and NOS´ed. 5 Gallentean Hammerhead II were chewing away at my Rifter, and her very well fitted, trimmed and calibrated blasters were making short work on my armor as well as hull. I jumped into the pod, and abandoned ship. The pod-com crackled:
 " First rule of Piracy - Trust noone . Second - ALWAYS ransom! - that will be 20 million credits if you please - you have 2 minutes to transfer, or suffer a painful freezing death . My blasters are targeted on your escape hatch!"

There were no softness  in her voice, no love in her eyes, only pure calculated cynicism. I had been duped. My testosteron had become a weakness she had seen, taken, and abused for all it was worth. I was completely miffed. Any attempt to talk with my lovely Lasha was met with a time counter.
" You now have one minute"
" You now have 30 seconds" .. then
" Your time is UP - goodbye rookie...next time, go for the pleasure hubs - then you kow what you´ll get..."

A single shot blew the escape hatch wide open and the last thing i remember was being sucked out. I must have cracked my head open somewhere, ´cause suddenly i felt a explosion on my head, then all went dark.

 Then distant voices- Taunting, mocking voices.
" Ooohhh deary, deary me...little kiddo here fell prey to his hormones - head, tail and.... ship..."
My eyes open and i see a familiar face. Its Golan - the Clonemaster.
"Love is such a beautiful dance, isnt it?", he exclaims, as he hands over a towel, and a heartshaped lollipop...Wizeguy....