The Cardis Sector, home to over a dozen factions. A place where pocket wars define the existence of over half the population, while the other half are left in the relative obscurity, most lacking the technology to even get into space. It's a place where people go to find fortune, lose it, and end up serving with one of the multiple factions, more often than not. In some rare cases, an outsider might make a name for themselves, acquire their own fleet, and eventually even found their own faction. One such person was an up-and-coming Commander Teryn, a middle aged man with a decent sized fleet of ships. Having been stuck in the system for a couple of years, he'd gotten on the bad side of the local Hegemony authorities, but gained the favor of several of the independent corporations, for preying on both local Pirates, and the occasional Hegemony convoy; a true 'Robin Hood', some called him. And, news was, he was recruiting. Getting contact with one of his recruiters was damn near impossible, of course, and when you did contact- or more likely, be contacted- one of them, you still had to convince them you were a good choice. After all, any old grunt could get picked up by a convoy bound for any old fleet, but to be a genuine Captain, that was something special. Teryn's station was an old mess that he had been slowly refurbishing throughout the few years he had been in-system. The hangar was full of half-built (or half destroyed) ships, and the engineering teams were running around fixing, taking apart, and refitting them. The shuttles that had brought the half dozen Captain elects from around the system had departed, leaving them all in the chamber under a token guard presence, while the Station Captain was en route.