"Yesterday's memories motivate the work of today in the hope that tomorrow will usher in the glory of our future."~Uskar'Dal, Captain, Sebeistor Tribe Militia

Flynnd was returning from a business trip when news of the attack reached him. He rushed to Pator as fast as the jump gates would allow, establishing orbit in time to see a pair of Amarr slave ships exit the atmosphere and warp away ahead of a contingent of warships. He quickly started the rentry sequence, landing his shuttle near his home. The town was in shambles; survivors wandered the streets with catatonic gazes fixed rigidly on the sky. No one spoke. No one wailed. It was as if time had been taken captive. His home had not been spared. Carefully picking his way through the shattered door and over the scattered debris that now littered the once clean dwelling, he sank to his knees. The slavers had come. His wife of four years, Sha N’Na, with their three-year-old daughter, Abbri A’Na, was gone.