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It's 2 am. Just woke up from what was a rather pleasant dream with a disinct feeling of concern. I can't see the sun. But I can feel it burning through the meter thick plate of steel to my left. The standard safe distance from a star the size of Alegor is 120 million kilometers. We're currently within 84 million. Any closer and this whole ship and everyone in it will melt under about 4 Octillion Watts of radiation.

This is why I don't let Cyrus drive.


The year is currently 7056. Space is no longer a frontier. When the Homeland (speculated true name being Earth. Though no one's really sure anymore. The history books don't call it by name) started to dry up all those years ago, the Litirier Experiment got together four thousand "prime specimens" or all sorts, stuffed them on The Ark, a ship only ever described as 'massive' and nothing else, and carried them out into space. Nobody knows what happened to it after it landed, though it's speculated it was torn apart and used to build civilization back up again. Either way, The Ark found its way to what is now the Archeti System, colonized Ironis and, over a span of four milleniums, expanded out into the the 5 Planetary Empires in existence today.

The Founding Democratic Empire of Archeti still lingers on the edges of modern civilization, though it lived out its peak years directly following said founding and since has ever declined into obseletion. Out of its original twelve resident planets, three suns and sixty two orbiting moons, all but Ironis, now the poverty capital of all 5 Empires, its moons, completely depleted, deformed or destroyed by centuries of resource mining, the smallest of its suns, ever nearing its eventual death, and a pathetically miniscule planet in the farthest reaches of the system known as Bearleq have been seized by other conquering Empires.

My home, The Exymeron Republic, responsible for all but two of aforementioned conquerings, is now the center and most prominent of the five. Still abundant with resources, people and possibility, Exymeron has become the ideal location for settlement. Unfortunately, in recent years, abundance has become overabundance and there remains little room for incoming immigrants. Border crossing has become difficult even for traders and even moreso for smugglers, which of course significantly hacks away at our own economical standings. The problem has yet to be addressed by Prime Minister Etthos.

Following along in order of power, Exymeron's contender for complete domination is currently The Holy Socialist Catharsis Empire, a collection of ninety two planets, scattered across the span of our space. As their name implies, they withold a high standard of, let's call it, morality for not only themselves but their neighbors. They have been involved in a war with the other semi-dominant power, Synecdicha, a rogue empire of hardly half Catharisis' size, located a great distance from the rest of us and known for harboring the exiles of elsewhere. Synecdicha has been urging Exymeron's intervention ever since the conflict began. This problem has also yet to be addressed by Prime Minister Etthos.

The final of the five empires, Ellegi, has been another, but far less violent target of Catharsis in the past. Larger than Synecdicha and witholding greater influence with its ownership of 5 suns, two of which provide energy for Catharsis strongholds, it has been able to diplomatically avoid open war, though verbal and political battles have been occurring consistently since the beginning of the other. Ellegi's only motivation for such a conflict, however, unthreatening in ideological factors, would be ownership of those five powerful stars. Imperialism however, has been frowned upon by the Allegiance Council between the five Empires and thus, were Catharsis to attack under such circumstances, Exymeron, Synecdicha, even Archeti would join Ellegi in expelling Catharsis from the union. Such would be disastrous as their entire populus is intermixed amongst what would then be hostile empires and severe loss would be imminent.

Even they are not dumb enough to attack Ellegi.



Fiearius
That's me. The hero of this story. Or at least this part of this story. Though I should probably be the hero of the other parts too. Anyway, I'm the captain of the good ship Enterprise. Kidding. She's called the Dionysian. She'll be addressed later. I'm also the commander of a total of two men, neither of whom really listen to me (though I assure you I'm getting around to disciplining them severely) and a completely independent 'merchant of the skies'. Alright, euphemism aside, I'm a space pirate of sorts. Stealing, smuggling, black market. All that. It's efficient. Don't judge it.

Cyrus
My little brother, the genius. The ever discerning view over my actions. He's an okay kid, but he's...well...We're practically polar opposites personality wise. So let's just say we don't always see eye to eye. He was always more financially successful. He had a good job in one of the most prestigious engineering corporations on Satieri before we left. You should've seen his face when I showed him the ship he was loaning me all that cash for. It wasn't my decision the he tag along, just so you know. I didn't ruin his life. I begged him for a ridiculous amount of money, sure, but I didn't drag him off that planet kicking and screaming like people always seem to think. He came along of his own free will. And I think he likes it here, even if he insists otherwise.



The Cacophonic Society
This, my friends, is what some people would call the underworld. Basically it's a political machine. A wide hierarchial net of individuals scattered across the face of Satierti, concentrated in Paradiex, used for duties of various brands, various difficulties and various legalities. One not aware might say that they work for the government, but that's really not true. The government works for it. Etthos was elected by the Society. He's their puppet. Don't think for a second that that bloke's got a mind of his own. He's just the face of the Council because they've got none of their own. Allow me to elaborate: the Council is a group of nine people, the most powerful people in the five Empires. But no one has any idea who they are. Names, genders, looks, voices. Not a clue. Except for one guy who's known only as Verse. He passes down each and every order from the Council to the lowers. Such as myself. Though not any longer.
Dionysian
My beautiful ship. And they called her scrap metal. Hmph. I love her more than anything else in the world. More than women. More than family. More than friends. Definetely more than siblings. Probably even more than food. Still more than money, but not by so much a margin. She may be a rusty old girl. I've certainly got a lot of use out of her. But she's reliable. She's strong. She's never let me down. Yup. She's pretty much the best thing in the universe. The end.



I suppose, since this is the beginning, I should start from the beginning. But beginning with 'I was born' just sounds cliche and redundant since obviously I was born. Anyone with half a brain could figure that out. So let's move on. I don't have one of those tragic pasts everyone seems afflicted with these days. I wasn't homeless. I wasn't poor. My parents didn't get killed by some evil villain who I must now seek revenge upon. Furthermore, they weren't bad parents at all. In fact they were great parents. They cared enough, they provided enough, they were reasonable enough. If they had one fault it was that they couldn't control me. I'm not gonna euphemize it, I was a brat. A complete little choke worthy selfish scumbag. And the name they gave me wasn't misplaced either. Fiearius? As in fire? Well, firey is complete understatement, but they were on the right track. Anyway, they were practical opposites, calm, laidback, you know, the hippie types. But with more money, better jobs and less time spent in the upper atmosphere. And I don't mean literally. So they had no idea what to do when their son came out a raging rambunctious whelp who enjoyed causing havoc and breaking things. Now my brother, Cyrus, was the kind of kid they wanted. Well, he's the kind of kid any parent would want. He's always been smart, responsible, ambitious. Personally, I think he's a little shoddy on the social side. We didn't get along fantastically. But even he's nothing to complain about. All four of us lived contentedly in Parediex, the largest city on Satieri, the largest planet in the Exymeron Republic. So like I said, no tragedy.


Little brats usually grow up into big jerks. And big jerks tend to end up hanging around what may be referred to as the 'wrong' circles. I'm no antithesis to this. In my early teenage years, I began to hang out with a kid named Desophyles, or Dez, as I called him because all these 'us's and 'es's were, as I went around saying, not really having any clue what it meant at the time, just products of The Man. And as far as I was concerned, my purpose in life was to stick it to That Man. Dez was actually my connection into doing so.

We were best mates, me and him. We spent every waking moment together, wreaking havoc on anyone worthy enough of our slander and weak enough not to do anything about it. We agreed on everything from which of our teachers were 'the man' and which were The Man to the simple truth that girls had cooties and should not be touched. Well we soon changed our minds about that one, but let's stay off that for now, shall we? Needless to say, we were pretty much the same person with just two bodies, not like it mattered since we were joined at the hip anyway, but the fact that we could, if we so chose, be in two places at once and thus defy basic physical properties was pretty exhilirating. In short, Dez was great. And hanging out with Dez was great. The best part was that he had an older brother who would actually let us hang with him and his posse because of course, when you're fifteen, all you really want to be is twenty five. And when you're twenty five, all you really want to be is not thirty in five years. So we really gelled. Dez's brother, Erzin, was the epitome of cool. He was dark, mysterious, dangerous and feared by anyone and everyone, even within his inner circle. It wasn't long before we found out why.

One day, Erzin divulged to Dez and I the truth of his character. He worked for something called The Cacophonic Society, a massive web of underground work in the city and for that matter, the planet, that practically controlled everything from the highest government officials to the rats in the sewers. He was under the Department of External Relations, more commonly known as The Fist. His main duties included threatening, shouting at and beating the junk out of anyone who had failed to keep up their end of a deal made with the Department of External Affairs aka The Hand (which is an entirely different organization with entirely different purposes and should not be confused with The Fist in any way). He never killed anyone, that was left to the Department of Justice or The Scythe. And it was on The Scythe's behalf that he spoke to us. They had recently lost a great number of employees in an 'accident' and were in desperate need of new recruits off the streets. The Scythe was an advanced organization that required absolute secrecy, trustworthiness and reliability and so only individuals specifically recommended by other members of the Society could be accepted. In addition, any member recommending a suitable candidate that was accepted for membership would receive a hefty promotion and financial compensation for their hard work. Erzin got two promotions. And double the compensation.

Dez and I started off, naturally, in the lowest ranks of The Scythe. Assignments were given to pairs, so of course we were a team and even from the very beginning, we worked well together. The assignments themselves were passed on from The Fist. After they'd finished their work, if there was still an issue, it would need to be taken care of. The protocol was simple and identical to The Fist's: first time around was a threat. This is what Dez and I were charged with. Every day at around 5, we'd receive a slip of paper with a name and location on it. How it was received changed daily, but it always got into our hands. At 8 pm, we were to go to the location and simply tell them that The Scythe was now invovled in their case. Every single one of them knew what that meant. The few that still dared to defy us were then passed along to our superiors who would swiftly deliver a stronger, though not yet fatal, message. Naturally, further dissent finally ended in death, though there weren't many who took it that far. There were, however, special cases, given only to the top Scythe trustees. Individuals who, though in no debt to the Society, were, so to speak, getting in the way. Political activists, rival organizations, or even, under extreme circumstances, traitors within our own ranks.

Dez and I worked together for three years, gradually climbing our way up. Death became a daily occurance. Murder was not immoral. It was for the good of society. We never questioned, so we never got an answer. The crimes were unspoken, untried, unestablished. It was blind, cold blooded killing. And we loved every minute of it. We were determined to be the very best. And it wasn't long before we were. At age eighteen, we were given our first big assignment along with our first guns. Before, we'd been restricted to knives, daggers and the likes. Guns were a symbol of faith. And with that faith in mind, we set off into the night, at last, among the top.

The jobs suddenly became more gruesome. More involved. Longer, planned out. We became strategists. We had to sneak, map, figure. It became less mindless killing and more structured assassinations. And in response to the heightened intensity, we became all the more numb. Heck, it was fun. As long as we never reflected on what it was we were doing. As long as it was just a job. As long as it never got personal. And for a long while, it never did. Until her.


I met her at one of those high end Society parties. The ones you get invited to only if you're super skilled or super old. Where everyone knows what the other does, but doesn't think its appropriate to speak of over cocktails and cheese cubes on toothpicks so they end up talking about the weather instead. One of those.

Over the past five years, we had taken over the Scythe. We didn't have the title, but everyone knew we were in charge. And no one questioned it. This made us, aside from the Council, the 2nd most powerful people in the Society (Verse still held first, a status even we wouldn't dare try to assume. Though if I ever had the privilege of meeting him, I may have challenge its validity). The 2nd most powerful people in the Society were thereby the 2nd most powerful people on Satieri and thereby Exymeron and thereby all five empires. You can't even comprehend what this did to our egos. Unfortunately, it had caused some friction within our unit. Dez and I shared that power equally. We had to. It relied on each other to exist at all. We were both good, but it was only our union that made us great. And two people can't share one status. It just doesn't work. So each of us had taken small hits at potentially boosting ourselves just enough to push the other down to third place again. It never worked. All it succeeded in doing was making us wary of each other and losing some of that long winded friendship and trust that had bound us together to begin with. But we still worked as well as we always had, nothing would change that as if there was one thing left we could agree on was that at least one of us needed to be in 2nd place and faltering for just a moment to make it singluar would lose it for us both. So we functioned. Awkwardly sometimes. But we functioned. She changed that.

She was by far the prettiest girl there. Her name was Aella. She worked for the Department of Information aka The Ears. There was a rumor going around that she was the daughter of one of the Council. I never actually found out if that was true, but by her attitude alone, I could see the resemblance. She was one of those perfect kind of girls. Smart, beautiful, with an air of mystery that just makes you want to spend every moment with her to figure out what exactly is going on in that gorgeous head. We talked the night away, me and her, completely oblivious to all the blabbering fools around us. People would linger around, seemingly waiting to talk to us (we were important people now after all), but after about five minutes of absolute inattention, they realized we weren't interested and wandered away. It was fantastic. But Dez...Dez was furious. How could I just ignore all these people who made me who I was? he snapped. My rudeness could cost us both our careers. It was insolent, irresponsible and inconsoleable. And as he yelled this at me, the following morning when I stumbled into our messy apartment, I found myself really not caring. So I ignored him too. I think part of his anger may have been spawned of jealousy. He didn't nearly have the skill with the ladies as I did. He was too serious. He didn't know when to lighten up and it scared them off. Me, I could smooth talk anyone willing to listen and they wouldn't even know what it was I actually spent most of my time doing. With him, they knew instantly his sick profession and found themselves inclined to go elsewhere immediately. Poor bloke.

Aella and I were together a couple months before it happened. The climax of this story. The great defining moment in my life. The turning point if you will. It started with a usual assignment. I was on my way to the store to pick up some milk at 5 pm when a wide-eyed kid on a bike pulled up beside me, frightened as anything and, hand shaking, thrust the paper into my hand, muttering "H-h-here m-mister..." before hastily riding off. I watched him leave for a moment, wondering what his problem was, before dutifully unfolding the order. It was a big one. I forgot the milk and rushed home to tell Dez.

A group of circa five or six Society members, deep within the bowels of the system, were planning a coup to overthrow Etthos and put one of its own in his place. Their plan to meet that very evening to discuss the strategy had leaked to The Ears. Apparently one of them had cracked to one of the interrogaters and let it slip. Now that person would be responsible for all of their deaths. We had no names, only the location and we were to take out each and every person present in the room with no proof whether they were involved in the rebellion or not. In hindsight, it seems harsh, nonsensical and uncalled for. But at the time, it was just everyday mindless work. The Society was strong in that manner. We were completely brainwashed by power. So we organized our artillery, laid out the plan of attack and set off to the suspiciously obvious warehouse in which the meeting was occuring.

Upon arrival, Dez and I, as was our custom, split. If one was compromised, the other could still finish the job. It was our personal, secret approach to each task and we owed it most of our success. So he took to the upper level as I, my lucky pistol in hand, slid around back to find an inconspicuous way inside. I did find a way inside. Unfortunately it wasn't very inconspicuous. Luckily, as per the plan, there seemed to be no one around. Better to arrive early than late after all. The place was silent, nobody in sight.

With no thought to it, I slipped through the massive pulldown steel door and prepared to scout out the prime position. I hadn't taken a few steps however before there was a crash behind me as said door came rushing down, slamming shut. Naturally, I spun around, wielding my sole weapon and frantically searching for the definition of the situation. I soon got it as I heard the click of a gun being cocked behind my head. "Put it down, Fiearius," he said. For a moment I considered simply spinning around and putting a bullet through his head before he even knew what happened. But when there came three more consecutive clicks around the room, I let out a sigh and dropped the pistol. "That's a good boy," he cooed cynically, the smirk apparent in his voice. The one directly behind me, put down the gun and made his way around to face me. Honestly, I had no clue who he was, but I felt a great urge to kick him in inappropriate places. "You lot are so predictable," he said with a cocky laugh. "At the first sight of any change, they just send out their little Scythe cronies to 'take care of it'." He paused and looked me straight in the eye. "It's pathetic. You don't even know what you're doing, do you?" I opened my mouth to reply, but he quickly snapped, "Don't answer that. You know, actually, I'm glad you're here. You see, the plan was simply to eliminate any old top team they sent out here. It would serve as message enough. But they sent you. THE top team. What a blow this will be to those old fogeys. Though I admit, it is a shame we'll be losing your skills. If only we could change your minds about them..." He paused again and looked thoughtful. Then, raising his gun to my forehead he let out a melodramatic sigh and said, "But oh well...we can't.

It was now or never. I'd get shot no matter what I did, so, reckless or courageous or what ever it is I am, I ducked down as he fired the first bullet, seized my own gun and was about to shoot him in the leg as he reaimed for my head when suddenly there rang out a very distinct "NO!

We both stopped and looked up as Aella ran into the warehouse, her eyes streaming. "No don't...don't..." was all else she could manage to say. As for the rest of us, nobody seemed inclined to do much else other than stand there, frozen and dumbfounded. The man still holding the gun to my head was preoccupied, so I took the opportunity to steal the scene.

Aella...what are you doing here?" I asked quietly, slightly afraid that someone would remember I was there and promptly shoot me. All their guns had fallen however when she came into the room. It dawned on me. "You're...part of this aren't you?

She looked up at me with pleading eyes. "You don't understand..." she begged, clutching onto my arm. I could feel her shivering. "It's not what you think.

I wanted to believe her. But the report I'd gotten was far too specific to be untrue. "So you're not trying to overthrow Etthos then?" I asked skeptically. "Because that's certainly what it looks like.

Her eyes widened and she violently shook her head. "Etthos? No! No, that's just what I told them so they'd send someone! We're not trying to overthrow Etthos at all. We're trying to overthrow the Council.

I think my mouth may have dropped just a bit. "The Council?!" I repeated. "How is that better?!" She started sobbing again so my captor answered for her.

The prime minister of Catharsis has made Exymeron an offer. Their largest sun in return for our help in the war," he said solemnly. "The Council is planning to accept it.

This, you must understand, is completely astounding. Exymeron, powerful as it is, during its seige of Archeti all those years ago, failed to take their prime sun. It got three small ones that had since slowly lost much of their energy and it still had its own main star, larger than Archeti's to begin with. It was later, however, taken by Catharsis and Exymeron had since been trying to negotiate its ownership. The offer of sun for war had come up before and the decision had always remained the same: the people of Exymeron were wholly against the brewing Catharsic-Synechdic War and thus the government would not intervene either way even for their prized celestial body. So naturally, I did not believe him. "How do you know that?" I argued shortly.

He raised a brow and said shortly, "They told me.

I hesitated for a moment and then, very quietly, muttered, "Verse?

So you've heard of me," he said with a grin. "Then perhaps you will understand how it is I have been privy to such information.

He's telling the truth," Aella insisted, still clasping my arm as though it was her own life ready to slip away from her. "We're trying to stop them before they can do it and destroy Exymeron. We have to." You can call me stupid for believing them all you want. I know, it certainly seemed ike a dumb choice at the time (though I'll have you know, it was the right one in the end), but something in her eyes made it impossible to retain any disbelief at the words she was saying. I'd seen her lie. I'd seen her joke. I'd seen her tell me things that made no sense with the utmost seriousness. But I'd never seen her look so desperate to let me know the truth. I was very tempted to kiss her, but I don't think she would have appreciated that in front of her rebellious peers so I refrained and just smiled instead, spurring her to grin ecstatically and throw her arms around me.

So you'll join us then?" Verse inquired, spinning his gun in his hand. "Keep in mind, if you say no, I'll be forced to kill you.

I shot him the most insolent glare I could muster and growled, "I would have said yes anyway.

Glad to hear it," he chimed. "It certainly won't hurt to have the top Scythe team on our side.

It was that exact moment I remembered the meaning of the word team. And as it dawned on me that I was not in fact alone and the situation was not at all as nice and friendly a reunion as I briefly considered it, I felt a twinge of guilt for not realizing the obvious danger in this and, as my teammate emerged from the upper level entrance and aimed a fatal shot with his AR-15 rifle directly at Verse's head, there was nothing I could do to stop it.

Dez was trained under the same principles as I. Shoot first. Shoot fast. Don't think about it or you'll be the one on the ground. He was fast. Lightning fast, not to sound cliche. Well, if you pit the both of us against each other in a duel, I could draw and fire faster...but I was close range specific. Anyway, that's not the point. It didn't take him long to take out each and every person in that room. Perhaps half a second per shot. 3 seconds. I still held my own pistol in my hand. I could have easily raised it up and blew a shot through his head in that first second and saved five lives. Or at least, in the last second. And saved Aella. But for some reason, for three seconds, I couldn't bring myself to move. I just stood there and let him finish the job. It wasn't until I felt her hand, grasping onto mine in fear, hope and fury release its grip and slowly sink away as she crumbled to the ground that I even processed what was going on. I think as Dez descended from on high, victoriously overseeing his undeniable success, he was shouting at me. Something along the lines of 'what happened?' and 'why didn't you take them out when you had the chance?' I wanted to answer him. I wanted to tell him how much of a mistake he'd made. How mindless and reckless and stupid he was. But all I could do was stare down at the lifeless bodies around me and for the first time, after countless murders, endless assassinations and ultimately taking out limitless potentially innocent individuals, I finally understood death.

After a long moment of complete obliviousness, I was suddenly sucked back into reality, just in time to hear Dez yell impatiently, "What were you thinking?!" And at that point, I didn't think about anything else but making him pay for what he did. Making him see the error here. Making him feel such extreme regret that he wouldn't be able to stand it anymore. So as he approached angrily, determined to reprimand my inability and incompetence, I raised my arm and introduced his forehead to my gun. He instantly stepped back and raised his own. "You've lost it," he growled, shaking his head. "First, you fall victim to the lies of the enemy, now you're pulling a gun on your own side? There's no other explanation. You must've gone completely mad.

My mind was racing. There were thousands of things I wanted to say to him. Thousands of accusations, insults, reasons, anything but I couldn't seem to form any of them. All I said was "You....are such...an idiot." And that was it. That was the extent of my argument. He, however, had a lot more to say. None of it is anything I care to relate to you now as one may find it inappropriate, rude, and unseemly. However, I will summarize it as mostly involving the faults of my ego, my lack of qualification for my line of work, the mountains of misplaced trust the Council had instilled in me, my aptitude for complete and utter betrayal of what had made me who I am and his wholesome disappointment that he would now have to be responsible for putting an end to my miserable career and, ultimately, life when he reported my mishap and treason to our superiors. The translation of this is, "Haha, I totally win our power struggle and now that Verse is dead too, I'm number one!" You may be able to see the source of his happiness at this turn of events.

To be honest, I didn't find myself really caring about any of this. Maybe I didn't trust Verse, but I certainly trusted Aella, so if she believed what he said of the Council was true, then I had no doubt in my mind that it was, leaving little will in me to continue being associated with them anyway. As for Dez, I felt less angry than pity for him that he couldn't see that we were just as much puppets as Etthos whom we constantly ridiculed for being such. All he cared about was his rank as though that could validate his life as meaning something. Of course, til half an hour previous, I was much the same, but now that I was aware, anyone around me who wasn't quite there yet seemed blind, deaf and dumb. And finally, the death part. There was a moment when I experienced that bland thought of 'Oh, what would it matter? My girlfriend's dead, my best friend hates me, what should I care if they kill me?' but then I remembered that I'm not that person. I'm the kid who pushed little nerdy Theophilus in the mud just to spite him for getting the answer right in class. I'm the guy who went to visit his old teachers who said he'd always be a loser just to shove it in their faces how successful I was. And I'm the one who under any circumstances can lose more than I even have just to get it all back and gloat about it for the rest of eternity. I do not allow imbociles like Desophyles to ruin my day. Even if they did kill my girlfriend.

I think for a while, as I ran it all over in my head, a vicious smirk was growing on my face. But it wasn't until Dez, growing weary of ranting and concerned at that look asked "Well? What do you have to say?" that it all fit together.

I grinned my most malicious grin, cast him my most mysterious glare and in the most defiant tone I could produce, said shortly, "Go on then. Try it," before spinning on my heel and stalking casually away from him and the entire Cacophonic Society. For good.


The plan was simple: get off the planet before they could kill me. What came next, I'd figure out later. The main problem was that I didn't have a ship. The second problem was that since all my funds were in a joint account with Dez and he'd immediately cut off my access to it following our falling out, I didn't have any money to buy one. All my friends were Society. So they couldn't help. My parents were probably as broke as I was not to mention the fact that I hadn't seen them since I moved out when I was sixteen and I heard they'd moved shortly after so my entire contact with them had been lost. There only remained one option: my brother.

Cyrus and I had had just as much contact as my parents and I which still amounts to 0, but he, at least, was locatable. He'd gotten a job as a high level engineer at some fancy private corporation that produced most everything mechanical that could be seen around the city and had a massive headquarters smack dab in the center of downtown Paradiex. So not only could I find him, but he was filthy rich too and probably had access to a huge selection of top quality spacevessels. Prime choice, wouldn't you agree?

Unfortunately, he didn't take my sudden homecoming as well as I'd expected. All he did for a full twenty minutes was yell about how irresponsible I was, how I'd ruined mum and dad's lives, how I completely abandoned my family and how I deserved what I got for the vile people I hung around. Of course, I ignored all this and admired the pretty sketches of fancy ships he'd designed that hung framed in his glass office, high above the busy city and couldn't help feel proud of the little bloke. Finally, he ran out of breath and I swiftly interjected my plan which he then swiftly declared was stupid. But after a another hour of explanation, recollection and blatant begging, I got him to crack. He wouldn't give me one of the nice ships on the wall, but he lent me enough to go out and buy a decent one of my own as long as I swore to pay it back as soon as the whole thing worked out. The final condition was that I returned once more after I'd bought the ship before I left. I'd never loved the concept of family more.

When I came back, two days later, the deed to the cheapest junk ship I could find that was still spaceworthy in my hand and the remainder of the loan stashed away in its many hidden compartments for convenient smuggling, I was surprised to find Cyrus, his office now empty, with his bags packed. He said he was coming with me. I told him he was stupid. He told me it was technically his ship and he could do what ever he wanted. I gave him a disgruntled look and said fine, but I still got to be captain.

We set off at the crack of dawn the next morning. The ship, which we had christened the Dionysian the night previous, sailed off of Satierin ground with ease and I felt a great relief as the the Paradiexin horizon, the sun just peeking over and flooding it with light, disappeared into the distance and all that lay before us was the open skies, pure, untainted and free.

That relief faltered a little though as we heard the main entrance hatch clunk open, crack off in the atmosphere and fall tumbling back down thousands of miles til it eventually crashed into the ocean, killing a rather large sea lion and a few unfortunate fish.

Oh well.

The End
(...sort of)


So you might be wondering what happened after that. Or maybe you're not. Well in case you are, this is the epilogue (which, if you're drunk enough, could be called the Captain's Log (what is this, Star Trek?) because that's kind of how it works). Every time something of note occurs, it will appear here. As a note. In a pleasant little chronological list so you may or may not keep up with the goings on of the Dionysian and its crew if you so please.

27/11/51 - First successful independent interplanetary black market deal
04/12/51 - First sign of Society tails. Crossed into Ellegic territory
19/06/52 - Uncomfortable reunion with Dez. Still as much a pratt as ever
30/10/52 - Big space battle. You know the type. Apparently the Dionysian is not a fighting ship
07/11/52 - Crossed into Synecdicha for repairs. We've now reached an all time low
21/08/53 - Finally earned enough to pay back Cyrus. Sweet.
31/12/53 - Today's headlines: Catharsis sun a 'gift' to Exymeron officials. No talk of war yet. But it's suspicious
06/02/54 - Ran into Dez again. Who's running away. Finally figured it out. Needs a ship
10/02/54 - I prove my extreme generosity by permitting Desophyles refuge on the Dionysian. Still don't like him though...
24/04/55 - Officially a millionare. Time to cash in
25/04/55 - Officially broke. Oh well...it was fun while it lasted
17/07/56 - Cyrus built us a teleporter. But it doesn't work...He's useless
26/12/56 - The teleporter works now. But I 'accidentally' broke the generator and in 'fixing' it, Cyrus broke his arm. Being a wuss about it
27/12/56 - Cyrus refuses Synecdicha doctors. Says they're barbarians. Forcing us to head back into Exymeron. Baaaaad idea
26/02/57 - Hired a doctor to fix Cyrus' arm and what ever else he's a wuss about in the future. I don't like her...
Adoptables for you

The usual rules apply. You know them. Don't pretend that you don't or I'll have to get Cacophonic on your behind.

Oh and new rule: I don't do no ninjas -.- Sorry. Take em somewhere else.

Also, please don't automatically make an adopt of Fiear if you request one ^^; I appreciate the preemptiveness and speed, but sometimes I'll see your adoptables and think 'oh that'd be perfect for -some other character here-' and if you've already made one of Fiear, I can't rightfully ask for a different one o.o; So yeah. Having one already done when you request doesn't help or hurt your chances of acceptance. After all, I accept 99% of the requests I get (the other 1% is the people who don't follow the rules) so don't worry about impressing me. I'd rather wait. Thanks.

Requests: Closed except for friends and guild
Trades: Open

Line-up:

  1. Zskai_Samauri - saleenf7
  2. Dhanskoh - Shane_ny
  3. Puckrin - imuda
  4. 65_E - rasberreh_tea
  5. Unlucking – blazeroftrails

Is one or more spots empty? Then

x...The Atrox is Real...x


Better a coward then a corpse lad...






Wow, I got an award o.o Sweet.




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