Finkelfantomen

The setting It was a dark chamber visited by few of the living. If the dead could, they probably would stay away too, considering this being more boring than laying still underground. Yet, this location WAS important. It was just utterly uninteresting to the majority of existence. This was the laboratory for the philosophical and” not out of the box” but ”there is no box, and even so, we are outside it, so let us think!” division of science. The staff currently consisted of two members. Both highly intelligent, ambitious, and focused on the task at hand. Some said their intelligence was amazing! They just weren’t competent in dealings with the outside world. Let’s just say that the placement of atoms in a calculated space was interesting for them. Soap and water not so much. Deodorant was some kind of religious item that men of science, as they were, avoided at all costs. They trusted numbers. Not other peoples noses. Anyway, their little laboratory was located deep inside a Corpus pillar class ship, just outside the trash bay area. So, no one noticed them, and those who did had forgotten them by now. But the system didn’t forget, so they still got their pay checks. Credits were important within the corpus, even for a genius. Your worth was your wealth, so working on ways to improve the latter was always a life priority. ” Sooo…” the short one, with a receding hairline, said ”I’ve been pondering this thing…” ” About factual things?” the other one, with a body that told the tale that snacks after bedtime was a ritual, and a steady breakfast made of pork, things that had some pork in it, and things that had been greased in pork, was a good way to kickstart your heart each morning. ” Or a philosophical question which will force us to look for the facts to back it up, since any thought not based on fact is just nothing?” ” Well, both, actually”, the one to probably be completely bald within five years (but the hair would be replaced by those in his nose anyway) replied. "I've been putting my mind into space travel lately. I’ve been going through historical records, data, and experiments as long as the archives allowed. And up until the Orokin empire’s greatness, the speed of light was the limit. But then they discovered the Void.” The… less skinny one, named Marcus Gluteus, nodded. He had written a thesis about the void and the trouble trying to eat at sandwich in it. The other one, the short one, named Electum Uterus, continued.” The void messes with physics. There can be two thoughts in one mind there, or two realities in the same space and time. Sometimes time is displaced, but the place is the same in two realities. It’s still a territory worthy of more exploration. But… This made me think. Perhaps our non-void reality is similar, and physics can be different from what we know?. But we do not see it, because we do not know we could look for it?” Marcus now intrigued, encouraged his friend. ”Go on…” Electum smiled and started talking again.” The speed of light is the limit. There is no theoretical explanation, within the physics known today, of how to accelerate an object to push through that barrier and go faster than light. But my conclusion is that there is and has always been. We have just made this mistake to study this problem from the angle of known knowledge about speed, and not from the perspective of” no speed.” Marcus frowned. This was confusing. ” Ehm… I’m not sure I quite follow you there my friend. Speed is basically an object being here, and then moving away from here. How far from here it can get in a given time is its speed. Otherwise, it is static, here and not there. So how can ’no speed’ be the solution to our problem? ”Well…”, Electum gave off another happy smile, the smile of one who had already realised the answer and was ready tell it to the world (or at least his close friend, or a colleague educated in the department of physics, or someone who was educated enough to be able to read and write, ok basically anyone who was ready to listen without giving up a sigh half-way through it), ”What is it that exists everywhere until light reaches it?” ” Uh…”, for a second Marcus face was locked in a thoughtful grin,” Without light there is darkness. But darkness isn’t an object, or a thing in motion. Can it still be the answer?” Electum rose from his chair and exclaimed” Correct! But still, it is the only thing that is everywhere at once! And the only time it isn’t there is when light arrives. So, I have devised plans for an engine that can travel at the speed of ’The absence of light’”. Marcus jaw dropped. ” Here look at my calculations”. Electum showed some slightly wrinkled, but with serious data on them, papers into his hands. Some of them had stains of whisky on the edges. “I call the process ‘Darkleap’.” The bigger theoretical physicist of them (in allocated space in their workplace) slowly, and thoroughly, went through the data presented before responding almost in a whisper. ” This is amazing. In theory a non-light speed ship could arrive at its destination as soon as it departs, because the ’darkness” is already there, and so the ship will be too.” ” Yes, my friend!”, Electum shouted to the world, realising that now that when someone competent backed up his theory this was a path to success and glory,” “ But…” said Marcus, “ Wouldn’t the age old problem of ‘If you travel at extreme velocity through space and hit an asteroid, or even a speck of dust, then it would completely destroy the vessel?” still be a problem for ‘Darkleap ™’?” ” Nope!” Electum continued proudly,” Because when traveling at the speed of darkness an object in your path would be illuminated by any star, no matter how far away, even so slightly that the Darkleaping vessel would just bend to the darkness and circle around it to avoid it completely.” ” That’s brilliant!” Marcus shouted, ”As long as there was an unbroken path of darkness the vessel could travel, or in reality ‘exist-hopping’, from ’dark here’ to ’dark there’ in an instant and the laws of physics would keep it out of the path of any illuminated object. And since the only thing, no matter how far away, that attracts light are physical objects (even in gaseous form which is a physical state), then the path of the vessel would, by physics, automatically be pushed out of the way of illuminated objects and keep it on the path of darkness.” ” I’m glad you understand my research so fast my friend”, Electum responded, ” But you are a well educated man, and from working years by your side it should not surprise me. Also, the base for this discovery is your research and scientific report about the light eating snails of Venus. Without it, my theory of Darkleap ™ travel would never have emerged to a calculated hypothesis. So, this really is a teamwork effort.” The two looked at each other in silence for a second, before they broke out in a simultaneous yell of” Were in the credits now!” Funding the project From there on it was just a matter of time before they had found a top-ranked bigwig to present their findings to. The moneyman quickly sensed the amazing opportunity for profit, and a suitcase that had thus ben unnoticed was opened, presenting the credits needed to fund the project. A short time later, the two colleagues had their own landing dock, science lab, and robotic assembly line made available for their work. They even had some credits to spare for a sign over the front door. Of course, they would have to keep their research in secrecy until the final product was there, and the patent carved in sto… hardened steel. But as artists, they still wanted to leave a glimmer of their genius out there for the audience. The sign read” Disillumination inc.” The Mark I A mere six months later the first prototype vessel was ready. The mighty Darkleap Mark I. It looked like a large, polished shiny barrel that had fallen on its side. Golden runes decorated it, and things that looked expensive were sticking out from it here and there. It rested on a red carped that looked like it had cost a lotf of money too. There were no windows on the vessel. Such things weren’t necessary when you just basically would enter, sit, and then get up a second later because you had arrived at your destination at the end of the galaxy. The investor was there too, rubbing his hands eagerly while puffing a probably very expensive cigar. The two world-first Darkonauts approached the Mark I, donned in standard Corpus space suits. Being the first to break new frontiers would bring glory. So there had been a long line of volunteers for this mission. A huge orchestra had been assembled to play some grand and heartlifting tunes as the Darkonauts bravely walked the last steps to the door of the Mark I. Beside them a large crowd of about thirty side-investors and some forty-ish associates were cheering them on (all curious of how this would affect the stock market.) The door to the vessel closed, and a countdown was exitedly yelled out of a nearby speaker. “Three… Two… One… Darkleap activated! It’s on! *Wooosh* It was gone. The band stopped playing. The Darkleap was a success! It had sent the Darkonauts on the first faster than light travel! The problem was that nor they or the vessel had appeared at its intended destination. The camera in the target hangar displayed an empty room, and the tracker on the Mark I had no signal. The worried look on Electums face made the investor turn to him and ask. “What just happened?” “Analysing the data, sir.” Electum said. “We anticipated some trial and error, so we invested greatly in different sensors to pinpoint anything unexpected. Ah… yes…” The investor took a drag on his cigar. “Well?” Marcus nodded to his friend and then faced the investor. “It seems that... We tried to set a fixed location for arrival. But since darkness is everywhere then the ship also went everywhere. So, it instantly dissolved into atoms and spread itself over as much of the galaxy as possible…” He looked down at his feet, trying to avoid the now red cheeks of the investor. The investor looked slightly shocked, but not too much, “So what you are saying is that it exploded?” “That is one way to describe it.” Electum answered. “Exploded as in trying to Darkleap ™ everywhere at once.” “Text me when the Mark II is ready.” The investor turned on his heels and walked away. The Mark II Another six months later and the mighty Mark II was ready! A shiny tube like the Mark I, polished chrome all around, but with a less amount of gold runes and expensive things sticking out. No fancy carpet beneath it. Costs had to be cut. Though it was also riddled with something resembling hedgehog spines. Two new Darkonauts marched heroically towards it. The line of volunteers had been shorter this time, but these two would do. This time they were accompanied by a smaller orchestra of twelve, still with various violins and trumpets. They waved at the crowd (Now down to 20 side-investors and no entourage.) The speaker once again yelled out the countdown. “Three, two, one. Darkleap activated!” *Wroosh* The Mark II was gone. The music stopped. The target hangar was still empty, and the tracking signal was nowhere to be seen. The investor sighed. “Gentlemen?” The two physicists looked at the data pouring in on their multitude of screens. A heated, but whispered, debate followed before they came to a consensus. “It seems that… Well, this time we tried to put precision light emitters on, to use light to close out the unwanted directions of dark, and thus force a path to the target location by the only darkness available. The computer should have been able to calculate this, but it seems like the light couldn’t close out all competing darkness, or it interfered with the preferred darkness and…. Well the result was that the Mark II Darkleapt into nothing.” Marcus needed to regain his breath after that long explanation. The investor looked at him with anger on his face. “Could you… please explain that in another language than nerd?” Marcus patted his friend on the shoulder and spoke on his behalf. “Instead of spreading ship and crew out over all of the known and unknown universe, it made every atom travel to the very same focal point. It’s so small that you cannot see it, but there is likely a hole in this floor where a super dense atomic collection once was and then gravity dragged it down through it. Being so small it won’t cause any trouble. But we are unlikely to ever find it again…” “Tell me when the Mark III is ready.” The investor, slightly irritated, turned and walked away. The fate was in the Mark III Just four months later the Mark III was ready. It was a tube, but now just painted grey and without the shiny chrome and runes. Costs had to be cut! A new set of hedgehog spines covered it, but there was something different about it. Another pair of Darkonauts walked nervously towards it. Probably some sorry sods who desperately needed credits. A small mariachi band played La Cucaracha. They would be paid in free tacos, so the incentive to add pompous and grandiose songs to their repertoire was non-existent. The cheering crowd was now down to the investor prime and the ten highest invested side-investors. The door on the Mark III closed. A slightly bored voice came from the speaker nearby. “Ok. Three, two, one. Darkleap go, or something…” *Flop* A strange mess of twisted metal now resided where the Mark III was just a second ago. The mariachis, unprepared for what just happened, shouted “Ariba!” and then went to look for their tacos. Puffing his cigar the investor glared at Marcus and Electum. Their screens once again filled with data. It was studied, discussed, followed by an argument of who should present the conclusion to the investor. Marcus cursed and faced him. “Well, this time instead of light emitters we put light absorbers on the outside of the ship. Calculations showed that it would create a ‘Darktube ™’ around the Mark III and shield it as if it was riding inside a physical tube. Unfortunately, this interfered with the nav computer trying to go Darkleap ™ to a dark location, since it couldn’t peek outside it lost its bearing and… it seems that the ship turned itself inside out. It ‘un-tubed’ itself.” The investor turned, dropped his cigar, and mumbled “Text me”. He then walked away while clenching hist fists. In the background an upset mariachi band could be heard yelling demands since someone had stolen their tacos. The Mark IV is the moneymaker? Two months later the Mark IV was ready. It was their final shot at glory. After this the investor was out. It was a grey tube with a door. That’s it. Some parts of it looked like they had ben put together with duct tape. There were some strange, but cheap, contraptions on the inside though, which had replaced every lamp and light emitting thing there. The plan was now to put light absorbers inside an already dark compartment, to create absolute darkness as a shield from the ‘normal no light condition’ of the darkness. Two shaking Darkonauts walked towards it. No money left to hire people with, and no debts to call in, Electum and Marcus had to do the job by themselves for once. Music accompanied them on their “brave” march towards the door. This time, it was a single musician sitting on a chair, playing his guitar. On the floor beside him lay a hat, in which he hoped the attendees would drop a coin or two. The Tune was some frisky bar song from the shady parts of the Orb Valis. But the crowd was gone. There was only the investor now, and the janitor at the back, but he was sweeping the floor and not paying attention to mankind’s greatest discovery. Marcus and Electum entered the vessel and closed the door. The investor banged it three times with his fist. Even the speaker guy had been cut off to save money. * Omph! * The Mark IV was gone. But the target hangar wasn’t empty! The camera displayed the Mark IV resting majestically on its floor! What was missing there was the Darkonauts. Marcus and Electum now remained in front of the prime investor, butt naked. The musician kept on playing. As long as someone who could drop a credit in his hat was near then nothing could stop him from performing his art. The investor decided this was the time to walk away without coming back. As he left the music stopped. Naked men rarely had any coins. The aftermath They say that when you are dying your whole life passes you by, and somehow your mind has enough time to comprehend and sit through it. Having your clothes teleported away and then finding yourself standing naked on a cold concrete floor has a similar effect. But since they weren’t dying, the two minds were focused on what the hell just happened. Before they started reflecting on their life, they came to the same conclusion. Inside the vessel, everything was dark, and every light source was blocked out. But under their clothes, their own body heat was a light source. But since it emitted in the infrared spectrum, it had passed them by in their calculations. They hadn’t thought about looking for things they could not see. They had only focused on the visible light. The fools! The utter fools! The result had been that everything but them had made a successful Darkleap ™. Their butts had remained, so to speak. But the real fool had been the investor, turning away just when they were on the brink of success! Darkleap ™ was working! At least as long as they only tried to move things not emitting light or heat, and thus infrared light, this would work! Now they just had to find an investor that would fund the Mark V, which would deep freeze everything inside. This time they could not fail!

When the real Loid (Not the cute, and entertaining, vacuum cleaner droid) was found, and the secret laboratories of the Orokin master scientist Albrecht Entrati was made public there was much… noise. Noice and “disturbance of the peace” as thousands of people started arriving on Demios as if an Orokin Disneyland had been discovered. Many were those who ventured there to uncover the secrets of the sanctum. All hoping to improve their fortune! Some hoped for unearthing treasures that would bring power. Others looked to solve enigmas that would bring glory. But they were all mislead and blinded by the artifacts, trinkets and shiny things promising a swift increase of strength. The real might of the home of Albrech weren’t trinkets of power. But the unbending might of the mind, the guidance of the... path. So, the first, and second, storm of “fortune seekers” wandered bewitched of the “shinies” of the Sanctum. And they missed what was really, really, important. In his genius Albrecht had gone so far beyond madness that he came out on the other side, being abnormally sane. That meant a sanity so far beyond the grasp of common men that it resembled insanity. In that state the scientist had created sentient animals! They could think, and even speak their mind! But as everyone flocked to those three that could bring clues to the sanctums secret, the fourth one was overlooked, and soon forgotten. It was of tiny stature and quickly hid in a corner covered in shadows. That shadow filled corner was now the home of a tiny tortoise. It was quite happy to be left alone. Since Albrecht had “enhanced” him, he had learned how to think,, and now thinking was his business. So he happily left the treasure hunting, and be-a-hero to others, leaving him alone in his corner with his thoughts and philosophical reasoning aligning them. Albrecht had only called him “you”, so he gave himself a name. He was “Früd!” It was a name taken from one of Albrechts books. Listening to Loid and Albrecht discussing the works of Früd the author seemed to have a thing for people relaxing on a couch. That was something that tortoise-Früd could appreciate too. But then someone overheard him talking to him self, and guided by curiosity had come over and say “Hello.” The bastard! Now he was noticed. It was a short conversation, that time. He had been asked a few questions, and shared his advice, as he could. The visitor, now happy with the answers to his conundrums had left, having a new path to steer his life. But he had told others… And the word spread quickly. The bastard! The next day a group of worried people arrived. All looking to him for anwers of their every day problems. He tried his best, as he could, to give answers that would release some of the weight that their lives had put on their shoulders. But why they trusted him to give life altering advice he never knew. He had been born, raised, and grown in a cage, and as a tortoise. Still, they seemed happy enough for someone else to decide for them what to do with their lives. A month later this was getting annoying. More and more visitors arrived each day, seeking his advice. He was a tortoise for florks sake. But the Cult of Früd was growing. He could tell them anything (Within his restricted vocabolary)! And they just didn’t believe it but also interpreted it through their internal filters. A man once came and said “Oh Früd, the crops on my farm are not growing. I have watered them each day, I have asked them to grow with a sweet and tender voice, and I have aligned them in the direction of our holy temple. I have asked the sun, and talked to the earth. Still, they do not grow! Tell me what to do, please!” His response had been “Yo momma!” Albrecht had given intelligence and speech to his pets, but for Früd, speech was highly limited. Three words was all he knew (the third was “next”). But intonation was a tool all on its own! The man had risen up and exclaimed “Of course! I’ve suspected it for years! But your words speak the truth! I must sacrifice my mother in law to the crop gods tomorrow!” That’s when Früd realized that people didn’t go to prophets for advice, but for confirmation of what they already thought and knew. Another visitor said “Oh great tortoise before me (Früd was well aware that he was only four inches wide, ant not great in stature, but he was used to this), tell me how to get the Corpus not to tax my farm again.” “Yo momma!” Früd said. “Yes yes!” the farmer rose up and exclaimed, “I will sell them my mother in law as a worker in the mines of Orb Valis. Brilliant! And it solves two problems in one stroke!” He bowed towards Früd once, and then just to be sure did it two more times while walking away. The tortoise barely had time to let out a sigh before the next customer was in line, on his knees and head bent low (after all he was a tortoise sitting on the floor, so you had to drop some height to talk to him.) “Oh, thou holy tortoise-thing, blessed are thou! I have a pain in my back that even archon shards won’t cure. Please accept my offerings and help me!” The man stretched out his right arm. The hand at its end held a carrot. A carrot! Now this was a man who understood how deities would be pleased! Früd chomped off a bit of the carrot and answered his call. “Yo mamma!”. “Yes!” the man exclaimed as he rose to his feet! “I got to get the mama of my children, my wife, of my back! She’s always yelling ‘Seymore do this, Seymore do that!’ and ‘Seymore have you taken out the trash?’ Of course, she’s the weight crushing my spine! Oh, thank you, oh almighty tortoise!” Then he quickly scuffed away. Now he was getting tired. But the line of the cult had no end. The tortoise sighed. “Next…” A Tenno came forward. This was unusual… “Oh great… in wisdom at least, tortoise of the sanctum. I have the ever watching and ruling RNG working against me. Vast is the collection of relics I have acquired, and numerous are the times I have opened them but been knocked down in tears since it’s just been another Forma blueprint…” Früd looked up on the Tennos face. It was hidden behind a shiny horned helmet. But still, it emitted tears, sadness, and resignation. This one really needed help. Früd focused his mind and considered his next move. Then he spoke with his most serious tortoise voice. “Yo momma.” The Tenno rose to his feet and looked down at the bringer of wisdom. “So… you’re saying I should not give up? Just as my momma the Lotus fought for me? The RNG can be cruel, but with determination I can bring it to its heels? I haven’t… thought of it as such. That it just takes focus and sheer will to accomplish things. I will do it! Momma, I will make you proud no matter how many upgraded relics that laugh in my face!” “Yo momma.” Früd replied. “Yes,” the Tenno said. “I understand now. You repeat that sentence since repetition is the solution to everything. There is no problem in the Tau that cannot be overcome by repetition. If one relic fails you, then do another, and another and another!” “Yo momma.” “Of course. Mod, relics, arcanes… these are things that can improve life. But they can only grow from repeating the mundane tasks of life. But by repeating the simple things we advance the complicated parts.” Früd was happy. This one got it. “Yo…” he said, and then retreated into his shell. The session was over. The Tenno bowed, deep, in respect. Lession learned, it was time to get back into the rotation. For the rest of the line of the cult of Früd, they had to wait until tomorrow to learn how to better themselves. Unless they had a carrot.

Somehow… Palpadrine returned. I don’t know who that person is though, and it has nothing to do with this story. But making my way through the local population in this crowded heap of s… people, I heard some of the local gentry talking about how he had returned. They had a heated argument about how his return was even possible, considering this and that, (whoever he was now again). But since it wasn’t on my to do list, I filed it under “we will never know” and moved on. I know who I am though, and I am Kuri Analyzatore, the best bounty hunter and “seeker” outside of the Void! If there was a "somehow" on my list it wouldn't take long for it to be a "This is why.” I am that good. Then, generally, I did not deal with philosophical questions but with people who I had to turn from “returned” to “had been” or “no longer living”, unless the job specifically stated that the man (or woman) had to be taken in alive. I didn't really like the "bring in alive" ones. It meant more load to carry back to the ship than just the parts needed for the ID. I had been in this business long enough to learn to appreciate the easy life. Sometimes I was hired to retrieve missing objects too. And this was such a time. A time I had to return to… the “smells.” Cetus… The cesspit of humanity… or the last bastion of defense, pride and “up yours Grineer scum!” It all depended on your perspective, I guess. But your nose could not be persuaded to intake the smell from the fish-stands and be allowed to have different opinions about it. It was always… pungent. Making your nose wish it was on the back of your head, instead of leading you towards those hanging scaly things. It made inhaling feel like a nest of bees followed the air into your nose. But the man I was looking for at this moment had his residence close to those fish stands deeper into the city. So, my nose would have to take one for the team this time. It would be rewarded later with the more pleasant smell of well-aged Deimos whisky. Later, when the bounty was collected. I never liked crowds of people. But here they were unavoidable. It felt like being back at the academy, running the gauntlet once again for some misdemeanor, or just the sergeant’s fun. The trick had been to let them hit you hard enough to feel like they done their job, but swiftly glide away from the blow just enough to not get seriously hurt. It was the same here, but with elbows instead of sticks. If you avoided contact too much you signaled weakness. And weakness invited predators. Suddenly a hand brushed against my thigh, so slight and nimble that it would have gone unnoticed by a common man. Years of battle-hardened reflexes kicked in and my left hand shot down like a cobra. As I looked down at my catch my eyes met the face of a young child, a girl aged no more than nine or ten. She looked back up at me with eyes filled of terror, realizing she had been caught in the act. A pickpocket! And a not so skilled one. I gently shook my head and released my grip. But I respected her profession and will to survive. I had been there myself. Perhaps she would learn from this experience and be better at it the next time? Anyway, I had bigger fish to catch than children trying to make ends meet. A short time later I arrived at my destination. A brown tent (like most of the others) residing just behind the fish market. For a second my left hand rose by itself, and the fingers attached to it clamped my nose shut. Then my brain willed it loose again. "Take the pain, do the job, get the money." I swiftly moved away the stained cloth acting as a door and made my way in. My right hand had unconsciously moved now too, and had pulled my Nukor handgun out of its holster. As the "door" was swept aside it revealed a small space with a table in the middle, and two men placed on each side of it. The men were clad in ragged clothes and one of them was without doubt a Grineer, trying to pass for an Ostron. A spy making shady business in the last sanctuary for the humans! They had been examining some kind of statue, an artifact of old, now wiggling at the center of the table as they both let go of it. What their intentions were with it was no longer important. The statue was what I came here for. The two men shifted focus and turned their attention towards me, staring down the microwave emitter of my Nukor. Their faces froze. I recognized the expression as I had seen it countless of times. Brains trying to quickly calculate ways of survival. Fight? Flee? Bargain? Beg? The Grineer spy defied logic and came to a conclusion before the human did, and reached for his Karak rifle resting beside him by the table. The human rose to his feet exclaiming "Wait!". The beam from my Nukor vaporized them both in an instant. And did it silent enough not to get noticed too. That is one of the few times I've appreciated being in a crowded and noisy area. And I had to admit that the fish stands hid the stench of vaporized flesh well. Without warning a sharp pain made my left shoulder twitch violently. A stream of red, my own blood, flew from it towards the now vaporized men. Clever. They had a third man watching outside. But he wasn't that clever, or at least not skillful enough. Because I was still alive. I threw myself fully into the tent, forcing my left hand through the pain to close the cloth door behind. Firing the Nukor at a man in the outside crowd would result in mass murder. And this was the wrong time and place for that. I pressed myself to the floor as beams of light started to penetrate the darkness, one, two, three, four more bullet holes appeared in the tent cloth and kept the light growing in numbers. My brain raced! How do I get out of this one alive? Three more bullets tore holes in the fabric of the tent. The second went right through my left hand. I bit down a scream while clenching my right fist around the handle of the Nukor. Couldn't let him know I was still alive, eh? Then the adrenaline lowered just a bit and my brain started to function again. I let go of my Nukor and pulled up the Holocator from my right pocket. Activating it made a Vapor specter appear from nothing. As it moved to the rear of the tent it started to take the tent with it. Five more bullets from the killer outside followed it in its back. Then I rushed forward. As I leaped out from where the door of the tent once was, I saw the shooter, gun in hand and a slightly surprised face. The butt of my Nukor hit him over the mouth a split second later and then he hit the ground, lights out. No time to finish the job though. He might have friends around. My weakened left hand grasped the statue from the table as I took off into the crowd. No shots followed, but the smell of fish stayed in my nose. After keeping low for an hour, I dared to move again and left the dark corner I had been hiding in. My shoulder hurt like hell, but at least I had stopped the bleeding. My left hand was no better off, but some wraps around it had done it’s job there too. I would live. There would be no Dog Days beach party this year though. But just staying home with some Deimos whisky and no one trying to kill me sounded like the light of my life. In a dog-eat-dog world the one that came out alive was the winner. Finally, I made my way back to Konzu. He was talking to a bloody Tenno! Though a bounty hunter I was, I had never hunted one of them (and hoped I never would have to) so I should have no trouble with them. I waited in the shadows until the Tenno parted way and walked away towards the entrance to the plains. Then I approached Konzu, still watching the shadows around him. "I have the statue you were looking for. It had been stolen by some thug to be sold to a Grineer spy.", I said. "Swazdo-lah! You have delivered again my friend." Konzu replied. "A friend who still need his payment..." I added. "Of course, of course." Konzu smiled. "Here. Two thousand credits and a box of finest Deimos whisky. Aged 20 years on blastoma barrels. I too deliver as promised! A small price to pay for this sacred statue. For us Ostron it means hope, and for the Grineer that means danger." I nodded, holding back the pain since even such a small feat reminded me of the hole in my shoulder and the pain every movement of muscle caused. The credits would get me "home", and the whisky would get me "away." My shoulder gave me no relief though, and the box of filled bottles looked like a load of pain to carry by myself. Fortunately, Konzu saw the pain on my face, and the bloodied clothes I wore. He was a smart one. After pausing for a second, he turned to a young girl by the near tent. "Oi!" he shouted. "Cada, come help this man carry his luggage to his ship. Be a good girl now!". The girl hurried over, as if she realized that keeping on Konzus good side also was good for survival in Cetus. Our eyes met and I recognized the pickpocket from earlier in the day. As she came before me she recognized me too, first looking ashamed but then smiled and replied with "Of course! This a good man. I carry for free." "My ship is by the bay area." I said to her before nodding good bye to Konzu. "I know where that is, mister." the youngling responded. "Good." I replied. "Then you can take the lead. Let’s go then." I felt it was better to see her before me, with my stuff on her back, than having her behind me having to decide if my only working arm should be used to guard my pockets or ready my Nukor if the Grineer spy proved to have even more friends in the city. “Come on then you lazy sod!” she yelled back at me, as she hurried away, trying not to look like the box of bottles was more than she could handle. Today I survive. Tomorrow is tomorrow. I am Kuri Analyzatore. Bounty hunter. I will live to see what tomorrow will bring.

Prologue: Sister Grinelina of Parvos is plotting the death of two former Corpus men, Maximus and Gesturum, blaming them (rightfully) for the death of her robotic dog Puffly. Not to mention that they are traitors to the Corpus and have left the “good side” to find their own profitable future. To get her revenge she seeks the alliance of her, former, arch enemy. Namely the Kuva Lich Aberdeen. The enemy of my enemy is my friend… The place: A remote and abandoned control station for ice mines now long depleted. On screen, zoomed in but still a few thousand miles away, it looked like a pile of forgotten scrap metal. And it probably was. This minor control station was long ago deserted and forgotten. No value left there. Grinelina pulled back a handle and her vessel slowed down slightly. In theory this was treason… but as a practicality it was a necessity. And those who where victorious where never deemed traitors! So, to victory through whatever means! Still, she sighed. Her thoughts wandered. “Remember Puffly”, they said deep inside her mind. Puffly had been her most beloved and trusted robotic dog. She herself had tightened the last bolts on him during the construction phase. But two damned, DAMNED, ex-Corpus and now renegades, had blasted Puffly to pieces. And on her watch as well! Not to mention the damage they had made to the corpus vessel she was assigned to protect. Death would fall upon them! Or shame on her. So, she had resigned to get an ally, so revenge could be served. Served on a platter, with the dismembered limbs of Maximus and Gesturum on it. With blood as the sole decoration! An abundance of blood! Their names had been easy to find since they were wanted on most known planets. There had been an… incident, that put their names on the planetary map. But they were survivors, and well-armed such. High ranking Grineer commanders had been put to shame when confronted by them. So, she needed assistance. To ask it from the Sisterhood would be a disgrace! The failed defence of her corpus pillar was enough to put her on the bottom of the tray. To ask for help… No. This way, no shame would fall on her! If she succeeded… And if she failed, she would be sleeping in the cold below anyway. On the opposite side of the scrapyard forgotten space station, another vessel approached. It was of a crude Grineer design, still considering its many guns and armaments it was meant for the very elite. And it was. The one commanding it was no other than Aberdeen the ruthless. A Kuva Lich of the highest standing (and kill record!). He needed no red carped upon his arrival. He made it himself with the blood of his enemies. Still, he took no pride in that in this moment though. He was about to meet up with the enemy, the most hated enemy. But, once again, the enemy of my enemy is my friend. Though this was a proposal of an alliance, he still kept his personal Kohm shotgun strapped to his side. Death came quick to those who forgot to plan for survival. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- They met up in Hangar 18. Nothing of value was there but them. The vessel was stripped of anything that could be sold. Down to the last copper wire. But in the middle of the almost empty room sat two chairs and a table. The red emergency lights made them both look like ghosts, with flickering shadows cast upon the walls around them. But the dead had left this vessel since a long time. (They could not be stacked up and sold.) All that was left now was reserve power and utter silence. Grinelina slowly walked towards the table, one hand ready to yank her Arca Plasmor from her back at the first notice of trouble. Aberdeen also walked towards her with a careful pace, and with his right hand caressing the shotgun by his side. He had named it “Betty”. Many were those who had died beneath his feet after a shroud of shrapnel fired from it. And they, and not him, had died because he was better than them at the art of war. The two masters of death stopped, nodded in courtesy and respect of each other’s profession for killing, and sat down facing each other. Two grim faces. None showing weakness, but both firm with determination. A short pause followed, as they seized each other up. Scanning for hidden weapons or an unplanned twitching in the face revealing treachery about to come real. Whas that a dagger? Clenched fists were placed on the table. Eyes looking around and locking on for a kill. But practiced disciplined restraint held the murder back, for now. This would be diplomacy until death came calling for its share. Aberdeen was the first to break the silence. “So… We have a common enemy. The two Plainwalkers” [see previous stories about the Plains of Eidolon, and Gesturum and Maximus, for more about that]. Grinelina loosened her fists (and silently cursed that she hadn’t filed her nails for too long.) “Yes.. There are two men walking who should be stiff and placed six feet in the cold below.” “You have a plan?” the lich replied. “Yes…” Grinelina continued. “But so far it is only “Tear off their limbs.” She paused. “But I got this.” The sister pulled out a small object and placed it on the table. Aberdeen reacted quickly. Backing away and grabbing his shotgun. Then he relaxed. It was no sneaky weapon. Just a piece of fabric of some greyish colour. He sat back down. “What… is this? Why are you collecting rags?” Grinelina sensed the suspension. Any quick move from either of them would cause a violent reaction. Both of them were walking on the razors edge. They needed something that would let them relax and drop their guard, for a good (and dismembering their enemy) reason. She removed her backpack, slowly. Aberdeen put a hand on his shotgun. Grinelina smiled at him, trying her most peaceful smile. But somehow, she was very inexperienced at those. It said, “I will kill you now, and dance on your grave!” But Aberdeen was used to a response like that, just form visiting the local grocery store. So he kept on watching. A second later she pulled up a bottle of wine. “Relax.” She said, “The rags are for the scent. Our robotic dogs can track anything by scent through space, and almost time too. If we encounter them on a vessel, or planet, and they try to hide then… they cannot outrun their smell.” Aberdeen agreed with that explanation and watched the bottle of wine. It was a good one. A Deimos vintage 1887. He lowered his gun. “We’re going to smell them through the universe?” he said. “It is just a possibility.” Grinelina replied. “To catch something that wishes to be hidden we ne need to treat this as a door with a complex lock. A chain full of keys is way better than just knocking on it.” She presented two glasses and filled them with wine. “You are presenting me with poison?” the Lich said. “Oh Aberdeen…” the sister replied, “If I wanted you dead, I would have blasted you with my Arca the second you sat your foot on this station.” Then she raised her own glass and took a sip of the wine. The lich looked sceptical at his, from different angles, and then raised it to his lips. They had a common goal, so why would she try to poison him now. He took a sip. It was a good wine. He decided to trust the situation, not her, and reached to grab something out of his own pocket. Grinelina instinctively pulled her right hand to her side, where a knife was located. But relaxed, breathed, and left it in its sheet, unbloodied. The lich put a small black orb on the table. A second later it came to life and projected a 3D map of the star system above it. “These are their last know locations” he said, as small red dots popped up on the map. “I am trying to find a pattern of their movements. They must have a base of operation somewhere.” He had noticed her hand reaching for her blade, but decided it was a defensive reaction and not betrayal… for now. The two professionals stared at each other once again and emptied their wine. Perhaps they had overestimated the hostility. After all they had a common goal, right? The sister opened another bottle. Grinelina filled their glasses once more and spoke. “So, with their base still unknown… Have you noticed any other pattern of use to us?” Aberdeen gave a lengthy review of there the targets had been, trying to create lines of movement. But it all seemed random to them both. But… The plains of Eidolon were a reoccurring phenomenon in their investigation. As the lich pointed at the map while cursing simultaneously Grinelina noticed something. When he cursed his earlobes bobbed slightly up and down. It was kind of… cute? No! She closed her eyes and pushed that thought away into a locked box, and then took another sip of wine. Aberdeen stopped talking when she closed her eyes. Was she preparing something sinister? No… But when her eyes opened again, he noticed them. He really noticed them. They were there! And they were beautiful! He felt strange. This was strange. Her eyes were… pleasant? They stirred something inside him? More wine? Yes! Another bottle was opened. More devious plans were made. For murder! Only murder!!! As Grinelina suggested of a very gruesome type of dismemberment once their goal was accomplished, which made Aberdeen let out a cackle of evil. His dark grin resounded in her brain. He was kind of handsome for being a clone, wasn’t he? Most of his face lacked boils. Most of it! Meanwhile the lich brain screamed that “This is wrong!... But look at … Her smile when talking about death…” It made him feel… alive? Then the sister reached out towards the map to point out a possible location for attack. Their fingertips touched. The dead and silent station became even more silent than considered possible by physics. Two bottles of wine ago this would have resulted in bloodshed. But three bottles of wine had passed. And Deimos wine was strong and potent. The lich looked at her. Uncertain of what to do now. The urge to kill her was gone. Neither the cloning nor the military training had prepared him for this. The sister spoke with a soft voice. “Do they clone you with all parts working?” Aberdeen sipped nervously on his wine… and smiled. Grinelina spoke with an even softer voice. “Let us continue our planning on my ship.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- She woke up the next morning with a headache. “Oh gods…” she said out loud, to no one in particular. Then she remembered. “Oh no!” Things... happened! This was worse than treason. It was not just ‘collaborating with the enemy’. This was an intimate betrayal. This was… well it had been pleasant. Perhaps even enjoyable. But still… So, even though she could face the face of the execution patrol… she smiled when she thought of last night. The clone had been fully functional, and his touch could do more than just kill and torture. It could, and had, definitively done more than that. Grinelina turned over to his side of the bed. It was empty, aside from a small note residing on the pillow. It read “Er… After we had... completing our.... planning of how to murder our common enemy, in an intimate way, you called me… ‘Your own one-man army’. And that got me thinking. There is no “two” in a One-man army. Numbers doesn’t lie. So, I will continue my hunt alone, as a one-man army should. Best of luck. Thank you for the wine.” She screamed. Outside her window a Grineer ship took off. If she could have peeked inside she would have seen a very nervous Grineer thinking “What the hell have I gotten myself into? This is worse than the Tenno raid of 2022! Now just to lay low and not mention this to any of my brothers…. Just play it cool Aberdeen… Kill and smile, kill and smile.” Grinelina rose to her feet with a stern face. No one dumped her and got away alive to brag about it. “Come Puffly-two!” she commanded. In the far-right corner of the room a pile of scrap metal rose to form a demonic killing robotic dog. “Mommy got an ex to kill.” The hunt was on!

The creation of an arch enemy, (Also known as the tale of the tragic demise of "Puffly".) The setup. Outer space. A… well… space, filled with lots of nothing. And most of that nothing was darkness. But there was also light. Bright sparkling dots of illumination. The stars though, were not the only shining things in space that added brightness to its darkness. In this particular sector of outer space an enormous Corpus spaceship sat in the middle of the nothingness. Its shiny metal hull reflected the light of the stars right back at them. Small cleaning droids worked tirelessly to keep the hull mint and shiny. Shiny was important. It added value, and value was the core value of the Corpus. The inside was kept as clean and shiny as well. A large corridor ended in a t-shaped intersection. The path continued both to the left and right. But straight ahead a wall awaited, and in front of that wall stood something shiny, and big. In the centre – an enormous statue of a golden hand, all fingers pointing upwards. To profit! On either side of it stood a corpus soldier with a loaded Supra rifle in their hands. They looked serious. So, if any serious business approached… they were prepared to get very serious! The one to the left, in the great Corpus register only known as “Expendable Footman #128313”, had something on his mind. To make it a bit more personal we can call him Bob. Bob spoke: “So how important is this thingamajig we are guarding again?” The soldier on the right side of the golden statue (Expendable footman #1413719, but we will call him Steve) replied with “Well it’s made of gold, innit? So just that alone makes it worth a fortune. And it’s a tribute to our glorious leader, which raises it’s worth to priceless, or at least two fortunes. Anyway, it is worth more than this ship we are on, for sure!” The soldier then took a short pause while reflecting further on the matter. “And then we get paid about 50 credits per hour to guard it, which seems to be a bit of a low investment in the security of something so valuable. So, I estimate it’s worth between 50 credits to about a few gazillion.” Bob scratched his head (he had to remove that really, reeeally, shiny and polished Corpus helmet before doing that) and then said “Soo… If we are paid 50 credits to guard something worth potentially millions. Then I don’t think anyone would mind if we took a quick smoke break? I mean, the minimum wage should go hand in hand with minimum expectations, right?” Steve the soldier didn’t even need to remove his helmet. His body language showed that he was in total agreement with his colleague. The two premium Venusian cigarettes he suddenly held in his hands, instead of his rifle, openly displayed his approval of the suggested activity. They took a few steps away from the statue towards the nearby airlock 8, opened it and walked into the room, fully aware that there were no smoke detectors there. They closed the door behind them, turned off the light and lit up a 'Venusian'. After a minute of puffing in silence Steve said, “We must not forget to ventilate out the smoke before we return to our duty.” “I know you and computers. You’re going to open the outer door and send the smoke, and us, into space.” Bob joked. He made a soft laugh for a second, before it was cut short from a strange sound accompanied by a blue light coming from the outer door. Someone on the outside of the ship was cutting it open with a plasma cutter! The safety protocols noticed the breech and instantly locked the door back into the corridor. The great Nothing awaited them. The entrance. The blue flame continued its squared journey around the door. But they noticed that no oxygen seemed to be sucked out of the breech. “Someone must have docked on the outside and secured the airlock!” Steve whispered. Bob nodded. His mind raced and panic froze his face stiff. It was the bloody Tenno! He knew it! 50 credits per hour to be just another id number scratched away from the register. Then his brain found reason for more panic. “I think I left my rifle at the hand.” “Drat… me too” Steve replied. They watched the blue flame reach the starting point. Then a few seconds of silence followed before the whole door fell towards them and landed on the floor with a banging sound. Suddenly a bright light greeted them. When their eyes adjusted, they realised they were staring into the barrels of two highly modified Karak rifles. The rifles were held by two humans in some kind of camouflage outfit. One of the men spoke. “Oh, look Maximus. Two grunts decided to greet us. Unarmed it seems too." The other man addressed them directly. “You might want to put that out son. You are already in enough trouble. Charred fingers seem to be an unnecessary bonus.” Bob and Steve both realised they had forgotten all about their smokes. And those had now burned down to the filter. And to their fingers. In unison they dropped the cigarette butts to the ground and raised their arms to surrender. The footnote: 1. The two men with the rifles were Maximus and Gesturum. Once storage supervisors for the Corpus. Then defectors, Plain of Eidolon survivors (The Plainwalkers), Miners of the Orb vali, Raiders of the Kuva fotress (but it really wasn’t them, honestly), and the masters of the Sentient coin (who had tricked them and left them empty handed). At present known as working incognito for the Perrin Sequence while being hunted by just about everyone in the galaxy (except the Tenno and the Ostrons). Oh, and the narrator forgot to mention that the two friends also was responsible for creating the 'Deimos cookbook', which was banned in seven planetary systems and had added a good deal more people to the list of those who wanted their heads on a plate. Now back to the main story. This was just a footnote. The heist. After overriding the door to the airlock, the two entrepreneurs peeked out of it. “See.” Maximus said, “This airlock was the closest one to one of them hand thingies. And in a very calm part of the ship as well. No frequent patrols here.” He then walked out in the corridor with his Karak rifle raised, scanning here and there for potential threats. “What about the prisoners” Gesturum said. “They’re all duct taped up now. But we can’t leave them in the airlock. Then they’ll be sucked into space when we leave. And we do not murder defenceless people.” “Drag them into the corridor then.” Maximus replied. “I’ll go take a look at the big hand to see how big it really is.” He walked up to the golden hand and smiled. After a quick ocular inspection and a calculated estimation, he smiled even wider. This bounty was worth exactly two million three hundred and seventy-three thousand credits. He was good with numbers. Gesturum walked up to his side. “Ok then. We have the golden statue at our disposal. How the hell do we get it to our ship? We only discussed how to get to it. But this thingamajig must weigh at least 800 kilograms. We cannot carry this with our own arms”. “Just bring out the Nosam cutter and set it free from its base.” Maximus replied. Gesturum nodded, trusting his friend, and got to work. Two minutes later he stood up. “Done.” Maximus smiled at him, and then proceeded to high five the enormous hand. “That’s your plan???” Gesturum exclaimed. “A good ol’ clap clap is going to solve everything?” Maximus smiled with mirth, removed his hand from the statue and revealed a small octagonal shaped disc sticking to it. “I bought this gravity device from a Tenno while visiting The Plains. All he wanted was some information about the Grineer camps. And we had plenty of that to share.” Then he lightly kicked the base of the statue and it rose slowly upwards, like some kind of awkward party balloon. Gesturum poked it with his finger, and the golden hand started to drift sideways. “Amazing” he said. “Indeed.” Gesturum replied. He hadn’t smiled this much in a long time. The sister is annoyed. This would have been a good night. First some stress releasing yoga. Then some “dismembering your enemy” training, followed by a good workout at the gym. And as a finale, finally after an intense week, a hot bath, soothing music, good wine, and the latest battle reports from the sisterhood to soothe the brain. But no… The alarm went off just when the water started to pour down into the bathtub. And in her sector too! Flashing, beeping, taking away all the calmness. Sister Grinelina of Parvos changed her smile to a grimace and put the glass of wine on the bench beside her. Getting into her combat suit while still all sweaty from working out was not a pleasant task. Someone would pay for this! “Come, Puffly!” she commanded with a stern voice. What looked like a pile of random bricks and electronics in the corner of the room suddenly rose to the form of a robotic dog. It tilted its head and looked at her, awaiting her command. “Mommy gotta kill before she can chill.” Grinelina then squeezed into the blue combat suit, ignoring the chafing and itching. Sweat and leather doesn’t love each other. But duty called. Meanwhile the dog walked out of the bathroom, and then came back a few seconds later carrying her Arca Plasmor in its mouth. This sister was now officially annoyed. And whoever set of that alarm was now branded an official disturber of the peace. There would be blood. And pain. And some dismemberment. Much dismemberment! Good doggy! Maximus and Gesturum pushed the hoovering golden hand in front of them towards the airlock, when they heard fast steps approaching them. Along the corridor a robotic beast came rushing towards them. “A friggin robodog is attacking!” Gesturum shouted, as he released the statue to rise his Karak rifle and fire off a salvo towards it. *Ka-rackrackrackrackrackrack* Six hits in an instant, but the monstrosity didn’t even slow down. Its shields just made it look like raindrops hitting an umbrella. Maximus dropped his rifle instead of raising it, and fiercely looked for something in the pockets of his battle jacket. He then quickly dropped to his knees, removed his backpack, and frantically started rummaging about in it. Meanwhile Gesturum kept firing at the closing encounter with teeth’s of metal. The dog kept going, intending to please its mommy ,and with combat mode set to dismember (a lot). The murderous beast was just a few steps away from them when Maximus pulled out a yellow circular shaped object and threw it at the dog. It hit the floor with a clinking sound. One second later the dog put its paw next to the object and the object exploded with beams of electrical lightning. The hound let out an electronic “yip” and curled itself into a ball. “Hit it now!” Maximum yelled. Gesturum changed mag and emptied it into the beast. *Ka-rackrackrack* *Ka-rackrack* With the shields depleted from the electrical shock the bullets hit home and dug deep into the robotic servant. When the Karak rifle finally fell silent, the dog lay still on the ground. Small beams of electrical lightning could be seen here and there on it, where its husk had been torn off and exposed its inner, now destroyed, wiring. A few seconds paused while the two friends regained their breath. “We need to return to the plains again and raid some camps soon. That was our last Arca trap.” Maximus said. Gesturum nodded. “Would be good to se Konzu again too.” The two friends once again turned their attention to the floating golden hand. “Puffly!” The heart piercing scream echoed through the hallway and almost made their eardrums shatter. Sister Grinelina had just entered the scene and stared at the robotic pile of scrap parts that lay on the floor, tears running down her cheeks. “You will be devalued into nothing!!!” she screamed as she raised her Arca Plasmor in their general direction and fired. *whoom* Luckily, she was also far away enough for them to have time to react. They ducked for cover as the ball of vaporising plasma bolts closed in. It hit the golden hand right in the centre and shattered it into an uncountable number of pieces. “Leg it!” Gesturum yelled as they took of around the corner, towards the air lock. When Grinelina finally arrived at the airlock she saw the troublemaker’s vessel detach from the main ship. Opening the airlock now was pointless, as well as suicidal. Still, she hit the door with her fist and screamed at it. Back to where we started. As the two friend’s vessel hurried to get further and further away from the Corpus ship they started to relax. Some time of silence passed before Maximus spoke. “Well, that could have gone better.” Gesturum agreed. “Back to square one again then. No worries. We’ll pull another few shifts at the Perrin Sequence and plan our next job. Fortune favours the brave, and those who are well planned.” Maximus nodded. This wasn’t their first rodeo. The plains of Eidolon had taught them to be resilient. Survive first, then accumulate wealth. Mothers’ wrath. Grinelina sat down with crossed legs beside what was left of Pluffy the cute, loving, caring, murderous and happily dismembering pet of hers. She caressed the remains of its head before gently flipping the tail of her gone darling one last time. The tail rose and then hit the floor with a clunking metallic, and slightly whimpering, sound. Slowly she rose to a standing position and clenched her fists for a few seconds. Then she walked back to her quarters in silence and with a determined face. Once back at her room she logged the attack in the computer and specified for the clean up crew to treat the remains of Pluffy respectfully. She sat down, poured a large glass of wine and emptied it in one sip. Another glass was filled to the brim. Grinelina tapped her fingers on the table for a few seconds. Then she emptied the second glass and filled up a third one. Her right hand almost touched the comm screen on the computer before she hesitated and pulled it back. Could she really sink that low? Then her heart reminded her. Pluffys gone… Her hand returned to the screen and selected “secure comm”. Grinelinas mind was in turmoil. She never thought this day would come, that she would seek the assistance of worms… maggots… of those who she normally reserved a place for that was under her boot. She took another sip of wine, just to bear the thought of what she was about to do. This wasn’t treason, was it? The enemy of my enemy is my friend, it is said. But can my hated enemy really be my friend? I guess it depended on which of your enemies you hated the most. The sister of Parvos entered a comm-code in the computer. It rang for a while before someone answered. On the small screen the face of a Kuva Lich appeared. “You again? Are you calling to taunt me again? I can assure you that what you perceived as a victory the last time we met was…” Grinelina raised her hand and spoke. “Hush Arberdaan. I am not contacting you for a mere taunt. Last week commander Kayesh presented you with a contract to take out two annoying humans. Don’t ask me how I know this, but you might want to re-evaluate your encryption on relay 5. Even though it disgusts me to my core, I am proposing that we pool our resources together to bring these two to the sword.” The lich gave up a surprised face and seemed to ponder this for a while. His arch enemy (except for that damned Tenno…) contacting him and proposing an alliance… “Tell me what you have in mind…” Aberdaan said. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ And that’s it for Gesturum and Maximus for this time. I hope you had some fun reading this. If you like it, the please let me know. Feedback is always appreciated. Oh, and... There are a handful of their previous adventures already published here, including the Deimos Cookbook (illustrated). See you on “The Plains”.