A Dove Falls, a Dragon Cometh

      Faster-than-light travel takes a harsh toll on those who do not take the necessary precautions.  There are modulation medications required to stave off the onset of cynosis.  However, even with proper precautions, not all jumps are created equal, and not all humans can handle it the same.  The jump from Korsiki to Airaken was Baillieu's last.  The strain of instantaneous transportation through time and space on the vessels of Baillieu Crennelle's brain was too much, and a vessel burst.  This is normally not terribly horrific to watch, but, in Baillieu's case, it quite literally exploded out the side of his skull in a bright spray of crimson.  Ryven bolted upright, his mouth agape in total shock as the lifeblood of his dearest friend and father-figure showered the small passenger cabin.  Baillieu's eyes, already lifeless, rolled backwards as he fell to the floor with a sickening thud.  Ryven sat and wept as the Badger pulled into the docking queue at the Sisters of Eve station that would never again be his home.  He was more alone than he had ever been before.

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     The funeral passed, as did the following weeks, and Ryven withdrew into himself.  Little did he know, his last remaining family member was already on his way to take him to a new life.  This new life would not be the soft, gentle, loving one of Baillieu Crennelle.  Ryven's new life would be one of intense labor and previously unimaginable violence on the fringes of civilized space. 

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     Titus Haijikioten, a stout man of at least fifty years of age, cut a striking figure on the bridge of his Rokh-class battleship.  His hair was streaked at the edges with silver, but was otherwise black as night.  His eyes were deep blue, and spoke of decades of harsh living in constant combat.  His nose was pronounced from numerous breaks.  He had a long scar on his right cheek from a Khumaak wielded by an enraged Brutor mercenary.  He always wore a coat, regardless of the temperature, and despite being seriously outdated, he smoked a sweet-smelling herb from a long-stemmed pipe nearly continuously every day of his life.  He was a striking figure, and an even more striking personality.  His younger brother, Kalus, had dishonored the family name, but Titus's reputation was so solidly the stuff of legend, that business never faltered.  Titus was a mercenary that never failed to complete a contract, and always seemed to choose the most profitable side in a bidding war, which was usually the Caldari State, by virtue of his long-standing relationship with them.  

      Titus watched as the Sisters of Eve station in Airaken grew closer.  He had received a message from the Sisters only two weeks prior, informing him it was time for him to take Ryven off their hands.  He had always known the boy's whereabouts, but, had never had the lifestyle that would have allowed him to care for a child.  Ryven was no longer a child, though.  He had reached the crucial age of sixteen, and even more impressively, won the Forge Regional competition in unarmed combat.  Titus was quite impressed, considering he himself had not succeeded when he competed forty years ago.  He was even more impressed when he learned about Ahrima Kaito.  The boy was properly blooded, and Titus had a place for that sort of talent on his crew.  He would give the boy a choice, and he hoped he accepted the right one.  First, though, he would have to tell the boy of his father.