Your squad has recently graduated from the Elvish Imperial Navy Marine Corp, the Empire's Elite! Your first mission is to retrieve a communique from the fast picket “Death Becomes Her” in the Mors system. Upon entering the Mors shellspace, sailors on your lumbering Man o’ War start to nervously spin tales about lost ships and entire crews going mad. Pffft, that’s just typical Navy talk to scare the new recruits! There’s nothing to fear for you, the Navy’s elite marines – long live the Empress, OORAH!*

*There will be a 5-10 minutes Session 0 to make sure players are comfortable with the material (horror theme)

Your dreaming and your cat is talking to you.

I’m gonna let you in on a little secret, your cat says. "You aren’t in charge. Sure, I know you like to think you are, and with your guns and lights and cars, you can kill just about anything you want. But killing a thing with a gun or a car isn’t the same as killing it with your claws, and that’s where you all fall short. When it comes to fierce fighting, your kind are about as helpless as kittens.

That’s why, every thousand years, we win the contest, and why, every thousand years, you all come in dead last. Your champion shows up all half-witted and naked, no more ready for battle than a white blister ready to be popped. You’ve
got no teeth and you’ve got no claws, and you just don’t remember how to fight. It’s a shame, really. You know why? Because the less you know about protecting yourselves, the more we have to know about protecting you..."