We found it half-buried in sand—a Heighliner carcass, torn open and forgotten. The Guild denies it ever existed. No logs, no record, just a name erased.
To us, it was salvation. Sealed chambers full of salvage—plating, circuits, spice dust in the conduits. We claimed it piece by piece until even the wind called it ours.
Some say it fell during the spice purges; others that it was buried on purpose, a secret too large to destroy.
Whatever the truth, only the wreck remains—and the lesson it left: power burns brightest before it dies.