A radio crackles to life somewhere deep in the heart of the S.S. Auralia. A thin, tinny voice wafts through the stale, dusty air of the metal hulk, reverberating off the walls of long corridors barely joined together by Econo-Spacepoxy. The message fades, the radio beeps, and then lights up again, repeating the message in an infinite loop. It is a mayday call that will never be answered, for your foes have been devastated. Every faction now fears your name, for your name is...
