We are the few who dare: we brothers and sisters who ride the Witchspace corridors of Faraway. We turn the wheels of industry, moving the goods that power a heaven-spanning society of worlds. We pilot ships named for snakes—Asps, Cobras, Pythons, Anacondas—and on our backs is the tripartite hegemony of man built.

We fly. We fight. We trade. We explore. We brave the black under the unblinking gaze of the naked stars. We do it for fortune, for fame, for glory—for the thrill of the hunt, or maybe just because to sit at home on a station is to be ordinary, and we are never that.

These are our stories.