The Hagga Rift became the mass grave of our honor. It was the erythrite crystals that brought us. With the Guild’s choking monopoly, it was hard for either House to find an advantage over the other, so our masters on both sides sent us here to get what we could.

It was settlers and pyons who died in our crossfire. Eventually, a contingent of us deserted. Problem was, some of us deserted out of disillusionment, while others did so out of lust for plunder. Ended up killing each other over the disagreement. I ended three of my fellows set on murdering a pyon. Didn’t save the pyon. Ended up with a sucking wound for my trouble.

I haven’t got long. The Rift is a graveyard of fallen bridges, ruined mining hamlets, downed ‘thopters, and corpses. I’ll just be another skeleton on the pile. Just us skeletons and the erythrite crystals, gleaming like the teeth in the Devil’s own mouth.