The space rippled as the tear in the fabric of everything appeared at the edge of Markabath system. Untamed and unknown energies of null space lashed out into the vacuum, fading almost instantly, normal space proving incompatible with its exotic nature. The Consular class starship slid into existence as the hole of unreality closed behind it.

The ostentatiously decorated hull of the spacecraft shone brightly in gold and red hues, unnecessarily declaring wealth and power when only a handful of Great Houses of Amaathar could afford such an advanced vessel. The retractable masts and sails that propelled the ship through the unreality of null space were no longer needed, with a spacecraft safely in normal space, so it slowly started to gather the ancient-looking apparatuses.

Magnificent craft fired up in system engines, leaving a trail of plasma thousands of kilometers long. Some more fuel efficiency-minded Captain would have charted a course using the planets and their gravity as breaks and boosts to reach their destination but this starcraft was in a hurry. Using the brute force of their oversized propulsion, the Imperial Emissary Frigate Queen Meya cut through the system, ignoring the pulls of the celestial bodies reaching the orbit of the moon of Nabalosh in record time.

The orange little marble of the moon circled the gas giant Foroven so close that all superficial examination would suggest that it should have been torn apart by tidal forces caused by its much bigger cousin. Yet by some miracle, the moon was untouched by violent forces and even harbored the first and only Chapter House of the Farstrider Rangers. Monastic order long since expired into obscurity, forgotten by Imperial machinations of Great Houses and passed into legends to the populace of the galaxy at large.

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Pegla grasped the smooth spike embedded into the rock, straining to pull it out, yet it resisted. The last task before he will become a Ranger proper was before him. Gather ingredients for his rapier, a symbol of the title of the Ranger. Sounded so easy, just a short excursion into the Stone Forest, simple. He ventured among the stars in five campaigns, as the tiny suns on his armor attested to. A hike among the jagged rocks of the Stone Forest seemed laughable in comparison. But here was, struggling to pull out the bone of Mooshoosha, out of the stone.

He sighed and set down, wiping his brow with a gauntleted hand. There was a time limit for this task. When he was informed it was a whooping four months he laughed. Just stroll among the jagged pillars of stone, find the remains of Mooshoosha beast, and go back! Easy, right? He thought sarcastically. It took him four days just to find this bone embedded in the rock, and he had been trying to free it from the stony grasp for nine hours already.

"Well, the Great Cloud is coming," he said to no one, "better find shelter."

The moon of Nabalosh got most of its light from the reflective surface of the gas giant Foroven that dominated the sky above him. But the Great Cloud of peculiar organisms that covered the sky of roughly sixty percent of the moon would slowly move blocking the light and plunging the surface into gloom. Sometimes the phenomena extended the night into weeks of darkness, while sometimes you wouldn't even notice it for months because the creatures kept themselves to the night side of the moon.

He picked up his climbing axe and briskly walked to the nearest cliff. The strange crystal-like moss that usually grew around the cave entrances glittered above him. Pegla planned to hide himself in whatever geological hall was up there while the Great Cloud passed. The gloom of the Cloud would signal all the predators that are hiding right now that the time for feasting is at hand and he didn't want to end up in the belly of a jadecat or a batspider.

Slowly but surely Pegla reached the small outcropping big enough for him to lay on the ground without any of his appendages dangling. The opening to the cave he postulate was there was overgrown with stonelily wine which he had to cut with an axe before he could squeeze through. The passage was barely enough for him to move through sideways but Blessed Void it widened after a few agonizingly claustrophobic steps.

"Good I didn't overeat for lunch, huh," he said, dusting off his armor and cloak. "That would have been a much tighter squeeze then."

Pegla took a deep breath before he dropped his backpack on the ground rummaging through it to find his blaster and a torch. Sometimes caves like these were home to many hostile creatures who did not take kindly to human visitation. He left his backpack, hafting the light in his right hand and the blaster in his left hand.

The beam of light illuminated the hallway which looked like a product of the dried-out stream at first. But the deeper he went the more his mind changed. The walls straightened out, the floor leveled while stalagmites disappeared from the ceiling. Curious, are these remains of one of the first human shelters on the moon, he wondered idly. Other than signs that the hallway was purposefully built there were no other indications of human or alien habitation, at present or in the ancient past.

He pressed on until he entered the large cave with a murmur of water tickling his ears from somewhere to his left. On his right he could see a beam of light coming from the hole in the ceiling, revealing the large nozzle. Is that wreckage of the engine or a shuttle thruster? Pegla wondered turning off the torch and hooking it on his belt. The illumination of the cave was good enough to see with the broken roof letting in fresh air as well.

"Better make a camp here," he said to the empty cavern before trekking back to the entrance to grab his pack.

It took him almost an hour before he was finished setting up a tent near the bubbling brook, the wildlife-repelling telescoping poles secured around it, and the microwave heater with holographic fire over it. As soon as the Cloud covers the land, Pegla expected the temperature to drop so he was planning on being ready. Clapping his hands to dust off his gauntlets he glanced at the ruined vessel on the other side of the cave. Curiosity driving him he skipped across the stones, crossing the brook which divided the cave into two.

First, he examined the giant nozzle he noticed first but the ancient machine didn't reveal anything. The design of thrusters hasn't changed much in thirty thousand years since the Seven Great Arks passed through a wormhole into this region of space, leaving behind the Corporatocracies of Terra and their colonies. Sure, the engines did become more powerful, and more efficient, made from far sturdier and more advanced materials. But basic shape or principles were similar.

After a few minutes of rummaging he found a large chunk of metal jutting out from the dust at the furthest corner from the point he entered the cave. After a cursory examination, he found a faded writing. Wiping away grim and sand the letters became more visible. Written in ancient Angrish script he struggled to read it.

"Fa, fa ... rrr ... stry ... farstri," he mouthed, searching his brain for the lessons most people of the Empire had not even bothered with in the last five millennia. Unless you were a noble-born that is, in that case, you were supposed to know how to read, write and speak in ancient Angrish.

"Oh, yes, Farstrider Two," he finally concluded, his eyes widening, "That can't be right."

Once the fleet of Seven Great Arks passed through a wormhole, the unstable shortcut through the universe closed leaving the Exodus Fleet stranded into this arm of the Milky Way. At those times technology to travel through null space was in its infancy, allowing only small shuttles to traverse bizarre landscape. The first ships, and the origin of their Order, were called Farstriders. They reached out into the Black, searching the Void for planets and dangers in advance of the Exodus Fleet.

Even today, the ships that the Rangers flew were called Farstrider class, in honor of those first brave pioneers who secured the foothold for humanity into this unknown region of space. But no modern ship ever was named Farstrier, let alone written in a script long replaced.

Is it possible this is one of the first Ranger vessels to reach Nabalosh? Pegla wondered circling around the wreckage. That would make it what? Almost as old as human presence in Norma Arm of the galaxy. He was in awe of the prospect that the metal heap he was looking at flew through space thirty millennia ago. Those brave ancient Rangers received the Budding for the first time and were cast out through the null space into the unknown.

Consumed by the discovery he stepped onto somethingthat gave way under his weight. He gasped as the floor beneath him sank and thecloud of dust and sand blinded him as he fell into the unknown.