EVE=PvP is a charmingly limited view, and “villain” is as adorable a handle for a pretend destroyer of pretend spaceships as “teacher” is pretentious. (But go learn how to fly a Cynabal–good stuff there.)
PvP is a small subset of war, but I’ll happily grant Dex the pride of the infantry grunt invoking the favor of the Queen of Battle. The officer corps has its own swagger, to be sure, and rightly so. Nothing, however, matches the arrogance of the war profiteer who moves the chess pieces. The masters making trillions off the efforts of PvPers like Dex do not spare a thought for his chimpanzee fun, as he in turn may care little for the grand games they play.
Standing to the side are the markets, whose warriors enjoy quieter conflict. I can imagine racing hearts even there, though, as the combatants sift buy and sell orders to try to divine the hearts of their enemies. The struggle for resources that is EVE is nowhere so exemplified as in the marketeers, for whom everything has a price. The masters of war bow to the need for fun, but the economy rules all.
EVE is therefore more a trading game than it is a war game, and far more than it is a PvP game. Spaceship combat is simply what gets Dex’ juices flowing these days, but rather than argue with his passion I’ll encourage him to wallow in it–because when we break it all down, there’s a secret depth that no one talks much about: we are the nascent gods of New Eden, indulging every whim to live larger than do the NPC inhabitants of this little universe. To do, in a word, anything.
What EVE is really, really about is being awesome in any of a ton of possible careers.