.     Good morning, everyone! Rise and shine, it's Foxy here, and I'm eagerly preparing for a captivating journey to Microtech for the highly anticipated IAE Expo. Buckle up because I'll be soaring through the cosmos in pure Origin style aboard my trusty 400i, affectionately named The Stargazer. This marks my inaugural year attending the legendary event, and the excitement is palpable. The prospect of exploring cutting-edge aerospace technology and mingling with fellow enthusiasts has me bubbling with anticipation, excitement, and I can't wait to share every moment with you.
I’m a good person…really I am. I know, people who say that they are a good person are generally irror of hypocrisy. I’m not gonna lie and says that I am an angel…that just isn’t possible growing up i orville. But, truth be told, I have always had a decent sense of honor even while trying to keep afloa oving from one hustle to the next. I’m not here to make excuses but for most people, Lorville is light in the system and a poor oasis on Hurston. My parents were essentially indentured servants t urston Dynamics working the mines, the testing facilities, the factories, you know the story. The idn’t last long. I think it was the mines that killed them both. Humans are just not meant to exist i hose conditions. Huston Dynamics doesn’t care and unless you are one of those with access to th hairman’s Club in the “tower” then you certainly don’t rate their attention even if their company i esponsible for you being orphaned.

Chapter 1: The Mysterious Transmission

In the vast cosmos of the Stanton system, the name ArcCorp had long stirred the imaginations of explorers, traders, and treasure hunters alike. It was a world dominated by towering megacities and sprawling urban landscapes, but today, it was about to reveal a secret hidden beneath its pristine oceans.

Four men, each with their unique skills and quirks, were on the brink of an adventure that would take them beyond the edge of known space. Reed, the seasoned captain, led the crew, while Dimitrius, a grizzled pilot with a knack for underwater navigation, prepared the submersible. Smut, the eccentric engineer, was tasked with ensuring the dive equipment was in top condition, and Meepowski, the quiet but brilliant alien technology specialist, pored over the mission data.
Dimitrius was sitting in a wrought iron chair in front of a small cantina which itself was situated in the middle of a sparse grouping of featureless buildings. Technically a mining colony long past its prime, the surrounding sand-colored, single story dwellings provided little respite from a mild and ceaseless wind. The perpetual hot breeze caused dust to constantly shift, glazing a barely visible street with ever-changing patterns of graininess. In the empty distance, an orange setting sun hung low in the haze of a seemingly infinite desert.

He suddenly looked up from his mobiglass and saw Meepowski casually sitting down in the available chair across the small table from him.

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