“Sean leaves behind a loving wife, two young children and scores of grieving family, friends and colleagues. And that’s just in this world, because in the virtual worlds Sean helped create, he is also being mourned by countless competitors, collaborators and gamers, who shared his passion.”
–US Secretary of State Hillary Rodham Clinton
BECAUSE THE STORY IN this book often hops across the border between real and fiction in order to tell the sprawling story of EVE, it’s worth stating explicitly that this chapter concerns a player’s actual death.
On September 11, 2012, 34-year-old Sean Smith, the player behind Goonswarm’s top diplomat Vile Rat, was killed in Benghazi, Libya in an attack that would become central to real-world events for years afterward.
The following chapter contains discussion of death and political violence. If you suspect it may cause you discomfort to read please feel free to continue on to the next chapter on pg. 181. The continuing story will not assume knowledge of this chapter.
SEAN
Sean Smith was born in 1978, and grew up in San Diego. He joined the Air Force in 1995 when he graduated high school, and became a ground radio maintenance specialist. He completed his military service in 2002 after achieving the rank of Staff Sergeant, and became a Foreign Service employee travelling to US embassies around the world ensuring that their computer systems worked properly.
“He loved computers,” his mother told the San Diego Union-Tribune. “Computers were a part of him. You couldn’t have one without the other.”
Sean was also an avid gamer from a young age, coming up in online life in early text-only MUD roleplaying games where he had a special affinity for social manipulation. He reportedly met the woman who would later become his wife in an early online text-based game.
“Sean and Heather met in a MUD, one of the oldest of old-school multiplayer online games. It was an all-text game, but all Sean needed to make an impression was a few choice words. “The first thing he typed to me was ‘You need to leave your guild or else I will kill you,’ Heather recalled. “Classically diplomatic, even then.”
Heather was a newbie player, just level five or so. Sean was angry at the guy who ran her guild. “So he was either killing all the people in the guy’s guild or intimidating them,” Heather said. “I was like, ‘What do I care, it’s not my fight?’” So she bailed on that guild. That was a classic Sean Smith victory.
“He was always trying to move the pieces and see how things went,” Heather said. “He was really good at reading people to get them to either see his way or he could mediate in a way that he could get what he needed out of it—in a nice way, most of the time, I’m sure.”
–From “The Amazing Life of Sean Smith, the Masterful EVE Gamer Slain in Libya,” on Kotaku.com by Stephen Totilo
His job took him around the world to places like Montreal, The Hague, Praetoria, Baghdad from 2007-2008, and in 2012, Benghazi.
BENGHAZI
The circumstances of Vile Rat’s death were a result of real world societal forces far beyond his control, and beyond the scope of this book’s reporting. However, thanks to publicly available government reports we can better understand the circumstances that led up to it. At least, from the United States Government’s point-of-view.
In early 2011, a year and a half before Vile Rat was killed, the Middle East was experiencing a series of protests, popular movements and uprisings across several countries. On January 14, the Tunisian government was overthrown by protestors, and on the 25th the world watched as demonstrators gathered in Tahrir Square in Cairo to demand the resignation of Egyptian President Hosni Mubarak.
Inspired by these events, the people of Libya also rose up against their own government. On February 15, 2011—while the Drone Region Federation was still mopping up Northern Coalition stragglers in the Battle of Uemon which had occurred just hours before—thousands of protestors gathered in Libya’s second-largest city, Benghazi, to oppose the 42-year regime of Colonel Muammar Ghaddafi. When government security forces fired on that demonstration, it transformed into an all-out rebellion.
By March, the CIA had a liaison, J. Christopher Stevens, in Libya meeting with opposition leaders. Throughout the war, American counter-terrorist operatives were in Libya assisting the opposition with training in weaponry and tactics. Over the course of the next six months, the rebels gained the support of NATO and used air superiority to take control of the capital city of Tripoli and eventually the entire country.
The transition to the new government was chaotic. While Libya was nominally under the control of the revolutionaries, large portions of the country were said to be functionally controlled by a tangle of militias. The end of the war brought deeper United States involvement, as the State Department attempted to establish a permanent ambassadorship and gather intelligence on these local militias and their loyalties. The US built a temporary presence in the country on a reduced scale, while J. Christopher Stevens attempted to establish permanent roots for the US in a post-Ghaddafi Libya. The mission expanded to include a consulate building and additional staff, security forces, and an IT expert named Sean Smith, aka Vile Rat.
Meanwhile, the situation within Benghazi grew precarious.
“In the months [between February 2011 and September 11, 2012], there was a large amount of evidence gathered by the U.S. Intelligence Community and from open sources that Benghazi was increasingly dangerous and unstable, and that a significant attack against American personnel there was becoming much more likely. […] The RSO [Regional Security Officer] in Libya compiled a list of 234 security incidents in Libya between June 2011 and July 2012, 50 of which took place in Benghazi.”
–US Senate Committee on Homeland Security and Governmental Affairs Report “Flashing Red: A Special Report on the Terrorist Attack in Benghazi”
What we know for sure is that on the evening of September 11, 2012, Vile Rat was logged into Jabber talking with Goonswarm leadership and alliance mates, and he was already worried for his life. While chatting with friends he offered a caveat:
“Assuming we don’t die tonight,” he wrote. “We saw one of our ‘police’ that guard the compound taking pictures.”
At 9:40 pm in Benghazi—7:40 pm in New Eden, and 2:40 pm in the United States where most of his friends were—two large groups of armed men approached the US consulate from different directions and began firing automatic weapons into the air.
We know the exact time because Sean was on Jabber, talking with his friends when they arrived.
[vile_rat 9/11/12 2:40 PM]: FUCK
[vile_rat 9/11/12 2:40 PM]: gunfire
A guard saw the groups approaching on a security camera, triggered the alarm and shouted “ATTACK, ATTACK” through the intercom system.
By this point Sean’s alliance-mates were concerned, but those who knew him well knew this wasn’t out of the ordinary for Vile Rat. While serving in Baghdad he would often be interrupted by gunshots and mortar attacks so they assumed he’d just come back in 5 minutes like nothing had happened. Like he always did before.
The militants threw grenades over the walls, and surged through the front gate by the dozens with automatic weapons and rocket-propelled grenades. Security agent Scott Strickland hurried Sean and J. Christopher Stevens away to a safe room in a different part of the compound.
Within twenty minutes the militia found the safe room, but couldn’t find a way to break inside. With no way of cracking into the impenetrable vault, they torched furniture and lit diesel fuel fires around the exterior of the building. Blankets of dirty diesel smoke billowed into the safe room vents.
The three men in the safe room tried to escape the poison air through an emergency window, but only one of them, Scott Strickland, made it out. Strickland made repeated attempts to find Sean and the ambassador, but was unable to locate them in the thick smoke.
Sean Smith, known throughout New Eden as Vile Rat, died at about 10pm.
The US government scrambled to arrange a response. The only Americans in the world who knew about the attack in Benghazi were the highest ranking members of the US State Department, a few Navy SEAL Teams, and the Goons who happened to be hanging out on Jabber that night. The Mittani, one of Vile Rat’s closest friends, was among them.
Though many now suspected something terrible had happened, it wasn’t until about eight hours after the attack that the full truth emerged about what had happened.
“My people, I have grievous news,” wrote The Mittani in the moment. “Vile Rat has been confirmed to be KIA in Benghazi; his family has been informed and the news is likely to break out on the wire services soon. Needless to say, we are in shock, have no words, and have nothing but sympathy for his family and children. I have known Vile Rat since 2006. He was one of the oldest of old-guard goons and one of the best and most effective diplomats this game has ever seen.”
While news of the attack was trickling back to the United States in bits and pieces, within EVE Online there was already the beginning of an outpouring of grief over the death of someone the community now realized was not a wicked adversary, but a beloved leader in the community. Impromptu gatherings of hundreds of players on voice comms resulted in story after story pouring forth from grieving players offering condolences and sharing their favorite tales of New Eden’s shadowy manipulator. Some noted simply and solemnly that they had made plans to share a drink with Vile at Fanfest next year. Others said they’d never met him, but were sad they never had the chance to know one beloved by so many.
Word soon reached American news networks, and the attack exploded into a major world crisis. Politicians cynically tried to use the event to spark a major scandal, as it had occurred on the eve of the 2012 US Presidential election. The denizens of EVE couldn’t have cared less. They’d lost one of their own, and one of the rarest events of the digital age was taking place: a community-wide mourning.
By the next day, several nullsec factions had offered tributes, and a wave of alliances were beginning to rename their outposts in honor of Vile Rat. Goonswarm renamed the outpost in the capital of Tribute “We love you Vile Rat.” TEST Alliance renamed the outpost at 49-U6U in Querious “RIP Vile Rat.” The long-contested RA Prime in C-J6MT—presently under the control of Mactep’s Solar Fleet—was renamed “RIP Vile Rat” as well.
Over the course of the next day, a wave of grief poured over EVE as Vile Rat’s story was shared around the world. The major alliances renamed dozens of stations as though they were candles left on the family’s doorstep. Not for his nuclear family—his wife Heather and their two children—but for his space family: his close friend Alex, their thousands of alliance mates, and hundreds of thousands of fellow players.
Messages like “Farewell Vile Rat,” and “We’ll Miss You Vile” papered the star cluster. A number of stations said things like “Shoot blues > Tell Vile Rat” an homage to one of Vile Rat’s legendary strengths: dealing with idiots who shot their own allies because they got bored.
These were beacons of respect which crossed factional bounds, because after nearly ten years in EVE loss was one thing that every alliance had in common. Most players I’ve spoken to who have been in the EVE community for a long time have been part of groups that lost someone.
The Mittani spent the night writing a proper eulogy for his fallen friend.
“So: Vile Rat, Sean Smith, my friend for over six years, both in real life and in internet spaceships, was the “State Department Official” killed in Benghazi […] Many were injured in these pointless, reprehensible acts, and one of my closest friends was killed as a result. […]
So. Eve.
[…] If you play this stupid game, you may not realize it, but you play in a galaxy created in large part by Vile Rat’s talent as a diplomat. No one focused as relentlessly on using diplomacy as a strategic tool as VR. Mercenary Coalition flipped sides in the Great War in large part because of Vile Rat’s influence, and if that hadn’t happened GSF probably would have never taken out BoB. Jabberlon5? VR made it. You may not even know what Jabberlon5 is, but it’s the smoke-filled Jabber room where every nullsec personage of note hangs out and makes deals. Goonswarm has succeeded over the years in large part because of VR’s emphasis on diplomacy, to the point of creating an entire section with a staff of 10+ called Corps Diplomatique, something no other alliance has. He had the vision and the understanding to see three steps ahead of everyone else—in the game, on the CSM, and when giving real-world advice.
Vile Rat was a spy for the Goonfleet Intelligence Agency. He infiltrated Lotka Volterra; he and I cooked up a scheme where we faked [Vile Rat] blowing up one of [a Goon’s] haulers full of zydrine in Syndicate—this was back in 06 when zydrine [was expensive]—and that proved to Lotka Volterra that he had gone ‘fuck goons’. BoB invaded Syndicate, then shortly thereafter GSF went to Insmother, allied with Red Alliance, and plowed over Lotka Volterra’s territory, all with Vile Rat’s aid. He came back in from the cold and became one of the most key players in the GSF directorate. His influence over the grand game and the affairs of Nullsec cannot be overstated. If you were an alliance leader of any consequence, you spoke to Vile Rat. You knew him. You may have been a friend or an enemy or a pawn in a greater game, but he touched every aspect of EVE in ways that 99% of the population will never understand.[…]
Fuck. He was on Jabber when it happened, that’s the most fucked up thing. […] Then the major media began reporting on the consulate and embassy attacks in Libya and Egypt, and I freaked out and then it turned out that it was my friend of six years who helped build this alliance into what it is today, since the very beginning, starting out as one of my agents and growing to become the single most influential diplomat in the history of EVE, or perhaps of any online game.
I’m clearly in shock as I write this as everything is buzzing around my head funnily and I feel kind of dead inside. I’m not sure if this is how I’m supposed to react to my friend being killed by a mob in a post-revolutionary Libya, but it’s pretty awful and Sean was a great guy and he was a goddamned master at this game we all play. Even though a lot of people may not realize how significant an influence he had. It seems kind of trivial to praise a husband, father, and overall badass for his skills in an internet spaceship game, but that’s how most of us know him, so there you go.
Shoot blues -> Tell Vile Rat.
RIP, my friend.”
–The Mittani, September 12, 2012
As his remains arrived back in the United States, Sean was also eulogized by two other political leaders: US President Barack Obama and Secretary of State Hillary Clinton.
“Sean Smith, it seems, lived to serve, first in the Air Force, then, with you at the State Department. He knew the perils of this calling. … And there, in Benghazi, far from home … he laid down his life in service to us all. Today, Sean is home.”
Secretary Clinton said in her remarks:
“Sean leaves behind a loving wife, Heather, two young children—Samantha and Nathan—and scores of grieving family, friends and colleagues.”
“And that’s just in this world,” she added, “because in the virtual worlds Sean helped create, he is also being mourned by countless competitors, collaborators and gamers, who shared his passion.”
It was remarkable to hear a sitting Secretary of State willing to nod to Sean’s virtual life, but it was also a remarkable understatement. One could hardly blame Secretary Clinton for that. Encapsulating the virtual side of Sean named Vile Rat would take days and require a thousand storytellers to describe how his machinations shaped their lives in the subtlest ways. The images of the vigils that blanketed the stars of New Eden are the only adequate summary of the story of Vile Rat.
SEPTEMBER 12
In the same cruel way that the real world keeps turning after the loss of a loved one, so too did New Eden begin another day. Though it would do so without its beloved Rat, the wheel of EVE continued to turn, and Tranquility began a new cycle. There was a period of mourning out of respect, but the game had no choice but to progress.
New Eden eventually adjusted, and eased into a new norm. Over the ensuing months the CFC captured yet another region, Vale of the Silent, and expanded even further. But then the balance of power found a sort of equilibrium. The CFC was dominant while the N3 Coalition formed a sort of uneven counterbalance.
The major outlier was TEST and Pandemic Legion’s Honey Badger Coalition. TEST was a member of both the CFC and the Honey Badger Coalition which allowed them to fly along with PL and get experience fighting—since dominant coalitions can often have trouble finding willing combatants to challenge them—and that was fine as long as those two loyalties never conflicted.
Until one evening in January 2013 when DaBigRedBoat made a simple mistake that plunged the star cluster into chaos.
