At the eastern edge of the desert, where rolling dunes give way to an expanse of bleached and rusting crags, I found the derelict graveyard which the bartender in New Montenegro had spoken of.

Of the seven Great Ships, two had attempted to land on this continent. The Celerity made a rough landing on the northern coast, its surviving sleepers waking to a fertile and hospitable land which they would name “Origin.” Though The Celerity was the smallest of the Great Ships, none of the colonization systems were destroyed in the landing. It was the quickest settlement to remodernize, and rapidly proliferated itself throughout the northern regions of the continent. Origin’s holdings stop short of the great desert which I find myself in, and their culture likewise ends where there is no human presence to encourage it.

Twisted metal interplayed with the jutting formations of rock which surrounded me. Steel wrecks wrenched themselves around stone into marvelous and terrifying shapes. The Fortune had not been so lucky.