Riding back across the waste, Corvayne had a lot of expectations that were not met. At no point did he need to have a moonlit duel across the wastes with the alien woman who was clearly Nyxion's heavy. Nyxion didn't grab Wick and laughingly drag her to the ship, forcing Corvayne to follow and duel him in orbit. There was no big reveal of who Wick really was. Perhaps the noble was biding his time? No, it turned out that the man matching the exact profile of every spoiled noble from any given book, right down to his arrogant tone of refined disgust at everyone below him and his resting disdain face, happened to have goals extremely closely aligned with what Wick had always planned for their partnership. He had laid it out without prompting while they were rigging the bike up to leave the mine.

“My goal is simple. To take down The Collective. My grandfather and father both died of the rot. It nearly took my sister.”

He reminded himself Nyxion didn't just attack them right away and left Hari alive after the attack on the warehouse. Both good points. Nyxion helped them negotiate with Coatz, a bag of treasure in the mix, to let them hide in a garage for a few hours and rig up something with cargo netting to carry the haul, not to mention buying a few gallons of gas with a wad of credits. They even were graciously using thier shield belts to make the ride home smoother. Great! So... what the hell was with this seating arrangement for the ride back?

“I need to talk to Nyxion. I can't hear him outside his shield bubble.” Wick had told him.

That's why he was sitting in the middle of an elf-Corvayne-alien sandwhich. Lady Blood Claw was taking this all with stoic silence. Or maybe fury. Her skin seemed to be a sort of mood ring and it was a deep purple right now. Probably anger, looking at her hands clutching his sides. Corvayne didn't blame her being annoyed: There was barely enough physical space for five people on the hover cycle. His partner in crime was half standing, half laying on Nyxion, clearly having a discussion they couldn't hear.

Hari was also looking in the rearview mirror. “I wanna kick that guy's ass so bad.” she said in elvish. The delivery was graceful, the kind of tone and cadence that you'd expect from the queen elf welcoming heroes to sanctuary or something.

“Me too.” Corvayne muttered. At least he didn't have to walk out of this desert. His skin was starting to peel from a nuclear sunburn. Given that's the extent of his injuries from having someone try to detonate a nuclear weapon he was holding... lucky. Sloppy. Then again, he got lost in the desert and walked to a different planet.

He was considering said walk in the desert when Miss Lad... Miss Blood Claw decided to ask Corvayne a rather odd question.

“Sorry to interrupt.” She said in a voice that conveyed no sorrow at all. “Corvayne, are you cursed?”

“I feel pretty lucky with my life now, actually.” He had to half shout, even with the shield buffering sound it was still loud sitting on a running motor. Hari twitched then wiggled in his lap. “Sorry, I can't help but yell.” He said in a quiet voice. She butted his collarbone gently with the back of her head, still hiding her ears with a sweat band.

“No, I mean... did a wizard curse you?” LBC continued.

“I don't think so, I only met one wizard. They were insane but I don't think I was hexed or anything. He asked me to kill any other wizards. I didn't agree to anything and he didn't expect anything out of me.”

Lady blood claw sounded resigned. “Ah. That is about my experience as well. Except I think my name is my former master trying a spell out on me.”

“Sounds like your master was a real asshole.” He stopped himself from adding any editorial comments about her current boss. “How would I go about seeing if I was cursed?”

“Oh. Try changing your name. Just pick a different name and try to write it as your own.”

“Sounds like a good thing to do before bed since my sleep cycle is completely messed up now. I'm going to be up all day probably.”

The alien woman with a big vibrating fire blade who tried to kill him yesterday then proceeded to matter-of-factly tell him all about how to get a good night's sleep.

Corvayne followed a river that started up in the mountains and shimmied down into the bay to get back to Old Town. Rolling up to the community center and dropping the shields, Nyxion's reaction was immediate.

“You live in this dump?”

Wick laughed as she hopped off the cycle. “It's the best I can do with living off the grid while still getting internet.”

“Pfft. No excuse for living in squalor. Get your manservant to apply in his name.” Nyxion gestured to him.

“He's even more off the grid then I am. Doesn't exist in the system. He also seems like he'd be fine off in the woods.”

Corvayne shrugged. “I'd miss so many of the just wonderful people I've met.”

“What about your... maid?” Nyxion gestured to Hari.

“Even worse! She's not a human.” Wick helped Corvayne open the garage doors. Mosh was in there, welding another hoverbike. Lady Blood Claw stopped dead in her tracks. Nyxion spent a moment looking at Hari then snorted. He returned his gaze to the metal shed that Mister I referred to as his garage.

“Did you have to pick the most backwards city then find the poorest worst neighborhood? Look at all this junk!”

“Oh heya Boss! Picking up more freeloaders?” Mosh flipped up his welding helmet.

Nyxion strode forward, a thunderhead “Freeloader?! Listen you little runt I... dear gods what the hell is that thing!? Is it even safe with all those teeth?”

Mosh hopped off the stool he was on and wandered over, offering a sooty gloved hand. “Heya prick! Names Mosh. Don't give me that look. You're all barbarians to me.”

Nyxion recovered quickly and shook the hand. “If you want better accommodations then this I'm sure I could find someone classy who'd buy you. Stuffed of course.” Nyxion started squeezing Mosh's hand. The goblin gave him another all-teeth smile and did the same.

“You sure you have time bud? The rest of your marching band left hours ago.”

They stepped back from each other. “Where did you find this clown?” Mosh asked, switching languages.

“Wick knows him... I think.”

Grunt came in then. He looked at the two newcomers.

Nyxion gave the man a disdainful look. “Oh, and now who's this oaf?”

Grunt smiled, and walked up to Nyxion who summoned his shields before Grunt reached him which earned him some points in Corvayne's book. He least had recognized the huge man was a real threat. Grunt would not be stopped by mere energy shields and simply picked up the bottom of the field and lifted Nyxion over him onto his back and started walking outside, ignoring that his hands and shirt were sparking from holding the shield up.

Wick folded her arms. “Put him down. Nyx, stop trying to piss everyone off.”

Grunt shrugged and Nyxion rolled off, cape tangled up as the noble dusted himself off while talking to himself. “Tch. The things I do for justice.”

Corvayne bumped his fist to his heart then pointed at grunt. Grunt made like he was grabbing something with two handles, then mimed throwing, then dusting his hands off: No big deal, just taking out the trash. Corvayne watched Grunt turn to Wick, gesture to the community center, then a fake wrist watch, then a hand with all fingers out: Mister I will be here in 5.

“Oh, he seeing a patient?” Wick asked. Grunt nodded.

“Right, well, let's have a quick meeting. First though, Mosh I need a favor.”

“Yeah Wick?”

“Corvayne was exposed to radiation. Can you mend him and just make sure he doesn't keel over?”

“Oh yeah of course.” The goblin came up to him and did the usual mumbled prayer. He felt the burnt skin on his back ripple and slosh, then something like minnows swimming through him. It tickled like crazy rather then hurting. Mosh walked around him, grabbed the back hem of his shirt, and shook it. Something like a dozen wet raisins hit the ground. “Woah you picked up some cancers boss! What the heck?” He made an appeal to cleaning and swept them into oblivion with a broom.

“Nuclear bomb. Thanks Mosh, digging em out when they get too big is a pain.”

Corvayne helped Grunt grab some folding chairs so they could sit and talk. Hari followed him, and after handing her two chairs from the row of twenty by the door to the courtyard, Grunt told them that he had bad news. Or, they played charades a good minute until Corvayne repeated what he understood: “The warehouse was closed while they cleaned up the damage. Because Brines' father or a different boss was involved, me and Hari are homeless?”

Grunt nodded and frowned, looking contrite then patting Corvayne on the shoulder: Sorry bro.

“It's ok, I mean, I left clothes in the dresser...”

Grunt motioned to himself and mimed opening drawers.

“Oh thanks for grabbing it Grunt. I really wish I had one of those magic rings I've read about where I can just take all my stuff with me weightlessly.”

Grunt nodded. Last mission he had to have been carrying around eighty pounds of meat alone. Corvayne told Hari the bad news while putting chairs down.

Hari just laughed. “We can camp outside the city, or go live at the inn inside the tower!” Her voice had more enthusiasm for the second option.

“Or we ask Wick to put us up for a while.” He noted Hari's disappointment. With him moving in with Wick? Or that he didn't want to pay for inn rooms?

He shelved that conversation for later. He was pretty sure it wouldn't go over well with Wick at all.

Wick herself wasn't paying attention to him and Hari, having sat down next to Nyx and recapping the last few days. “So, we went to the mines with the goal of finding out if the two people who attacked the warehouse were connected to Collective groups that have supernatural power. The answer is yes and no.” She gestured at Nyxion.

He sighed, then cleared his throat and said, “Fine... I am Nyxion Augustus the third, grandson of the former Emperor Augustus. My father was a bastard of his with a noble mistress. If you looked me up, you'd find me by my grandmother's family name, Nyxion Myrell. A would-be prince. Or perhaps, should-be emperor, missed by a purge of the rest of my family. The purge was likely at the urging of the leader of the most powerful Collective cult. He is a parasite named Goule Remenant who styles himself as a mystic man... that is either a fake name or another victim of the same monster who named my new friend Corvayne here and my old one Lady Blood Claw.”

Corvayne leaned against a tarp covered wreck. “Probably not, my dad never mentioned any brothers.”

Wick shrugged. “It sounds like a kid made it up.”

Nyx snorted once then continued. “Mature alias or not, the man was raised to Praetor and has had the current emperor's ear after serving his father. It's an open secret that he's one of the most if not simply THE most influential man in the Collective. Think Rasputin, or Count St. Germain.”

Wick and Grunt were nodding. Mosh looked to Corvayne, who shrugged and walked over to the circle of chairs to sit between Hari and Grunt.

Nyxion saw they needed some background and rotated his hand slowly while speaking a little slower and more clearly, as if leading idiots through a plan. “There was lot of spectacle around a man who arrived to court from nowhere. The outsider impressed the right people at the top of society. He gets them to think he's an honest to god wizard. He boosts his supporters and kills or ruins his enemies with 'magic'. Got it?”

Mosh raises a hand. “Are you jealous that he's on the track to running the empire and you're not?”

Nyx sneered. “Of course I am you chewed up wad of seaweed!” He adjusteded his collar and continued. “Goule seems to really have supernatural powers. He can levitate and I saw a bullet go through his head, hole in the front and blood out the back, and he stood right back up as if it was a stubbed toe.”

Mosh played devils advocate. “It's not impossible to fake that with a blank or something.”

“It was my bullet. That's part of why I switched to these.” Nyxion took a moment to show off the gauntlets he was wearing, blue power gems on the back and a gem on the palm in a clean brass. Nice decorative finish, as Corvayne judged that sort of thing.

“Anyway, he hasn't aged in fifty years. He took my father's life and would have taken my sister's as well if not for us being forewarned. It has become my life's work to discover his secrets, then ruin him, then kill him. Slowly, painfully, and thoroughly.” Nyxion frowned and paused. Some of that arrogance was gone, in the face of what sounded like a monumental task. Corvayne might have even guessed that the man was uncomfortable if he hadn't shrugged and moved on.

“My father did not trust anyone. I have wealth hidden in many places, ear marked for a rebellion that will likely never happen, even as much now as more mystics emerge from the woodwork. In some ways, my associate Lady Blood Claw is such a figure... she was discovered at one of the unexplained ruins on a border world twelve years ago by my father when we were setting up a safe house.”

Corvayne nodded. “You can find some good company diving into ruins.”

“You mock me but...” Nyxion started to speak but Wick cut him off.

“Corvayne isn't Mosh. I think he meant it at face value.” She looked over at Corvayne.

Corvayne didn't confirm or deny anything.

Nyx kept going. “As I was saying, I've been cultivating my father's old contacts for information on unusual finds where people dig. The Tel-Star Mine was years ago a possible tactical asset. So when I got the information that this informant gave me on a potential object I figured it might assist me in my goal, especially since Lady Blood Claw recognized the trinket at something her former master had once been looking for.”

The woman's skin had turned to a yellowish lime color. “While it was spent, the contaiment unit that was found on Cascadia means there's likely more ruins here. Ones that have a potential for including a fleet of ships.”

“So... you think there might be a whole bunch of alien ships under the mines?” Corvayne was curious as to what sort of ships they were talking about. Spaces-Torn-Asunder had once mentioned his personal challenge was to recreate a type of ship that was beyond warp, including one that effectively stapled sections of space together. Of course, the real value of a bunch of wild card ships would be ones with better power sources then whatever they were running here.

Lady Blood Claw turned to him. “The suspected points I investigated when being sent to try to find that trinket were all ship graveyards.”

Corvayne thought about it. “Ok. So the artifact was sort of a... secondary prize. What your after is a fleet. But you didn't find evidence that's what's here.”

Nyxion looked a little frustrated, but nodded in agreement with Corvayne. “Like Lady Blood Claw herself, the trinkets in the mine have magic, but trying to fight the cabal with it's own strength seems idiotic. My objective is to find ships, ones that will permit me to hit them when they move between planets. Or at least find one with better stealth so I don't have rude assholes surrounding me when I land.” Nyxion folded his arms, shaking his head and muttering, “I cannot get over how those idiots blew themselves up.”

Wick looked between them. “I want to know exactly why her master wanted THAT trinket, even if it's sideways to the ships.”

Lady Blood Claw shook her head. “He didn't talk about why much, all I know is that it made the master very, very nervous.”

“Wait! Let me guess! You lived in some weird society, you were a wizard's apprentice, the wizard dumped you for whatever reason, you wake up and everything's backwards ass, then you find out that your wizard is the guy next to the emperor, right? Right?!” Wick was grinning.

LBC shook her head. “No. Very imaginative, but no. Goule is a whole different can of worms. He's beyond anyone here unless you've all been holding back, but he's still an amateur compared to my old Master.” He saw her skin turn light blue and her expression turn troubled.

“No... even the most dangerous man in the empire, The Praetor, is but a child playing with matches compared to my master, The Magus.”