My guys and gals, today was real. Real SUPER! I connected with my old bro, Iceberg. He's still the same responsible guy I left. He really keeps me checked and grounded where things matter.
Before that, we had lil sis pop outta her cocoon looking FRESH. First thing we all did? Have a STEAM to get SUPER refreshed on the way to see Iceburg. When we got there, we opened Mill's will. Old guy sure had a way with words.
Then ol' Ice for brains had a little request. He wanted some Ice from a nearby planet. For big bro? Anything. So we escorted a tanker of his to grab some. We took the dark space back lanes to avoid pirates and scavengers. Instead, we ran into pirate Way Creatures from Beyond. Two types! A friendly jellyfish type and a jerk amoeba type. Mphoentle spent her time outside the ship doing her SUPER Way Magic to talk with them and it worked! We protected the Jellyfish AND we drove off the amoeba, PEACEFULLY as requested by lil sis.
So yeah, job well done as always by the Firedrake crew. We'll move on to the next system cause the others have business to attend to. And my ACTUAL lil sis is in the system beyond that, so check back then!
Until next time, staaaay SUUUUPER!
Mill's Last Testament
To Iceberg.
To Franky.
If you’re reading this, then I’ve finally gone and done it. I’ve left you two to keep moving without me barking orders over your shoulders. Don’t look so grim. Men who build things don’t vanish. We stay in what we leave behind.
This here is my last will and testament. I won’t dress it up. I never liked fancy words unless they were bolted to a ship.
First things first.
I’ve left you the cabin.
She’s hidden where the belt breaks wrong and the star charts lie. No Hegemony bureaucrat knows her name, and no cipher will find her unless they already deserve to. It’s stocked, dry, and stubborn, just like the two of you. If the world ever gets too loud, or the Legion starts sniffing too close, you go there. Rest. Argue. Fix things. That place is yours, together, and I mean it.
Now listen close, because this part will itch at you.
I built the Scorpio.
Yes. That ship. The one they boast about. The one that makes cowards feel brave and tyrants feel righteous. I laid her keel, set her ribs, and watched her take the stars like she was born for it.
And no. I am not sorry.
A shipwright does not apologize for his work. A hammer doesn’t ask who swings it. I built her true, because that’s what my hands do. If the Hegemony uses her to crush people, that shame is theirs, not mine. Never let anyone tell you a craftsman must beg forgiveness for the sins of fools.
But don’t mistake me. I was never on their side.
Which brings me to what comes next.
I want you to oppose the Hegemony. Not with tantrums. Not with empty heroics. With skill. With resolve. With things that last. The stars don’t change because you shout at them, they change when you build something strong enough to fly past them.
I designed a weapon for that purpose.
Not a crude thing. Not a monster meant only to kill. It’s a counterweight, a reminder that no power rules unchallenged forever. I never built it, and I never kept it with me. Smart men don’t leave all their work in one place.
The plans are hidden with my daughter.
Jenni.
If I failed anywhere in this world, it was with her. I let distance grow where my arms should have been. She lives now on Mem at the Froth Shoals, where the sea foams like it’s laughing at secrets. Find her. Don’t scare her. Don’t lie to her.
Tell her this:
Her father loved her.
Every bolt I set straight was set with her in my heart.
Every ship I built was me trying to make a world sturdy enough for her to stand on.
Tell her she isn’t alone anymore.
Iceberg. Franky. Jenni.
The three of you need to look after one another. Build together. Fight together if you must. Finish what I started and use it without shame. The Hegemony fears builders more than warriors, because builders don’t just break things, they replace them.
And one last thing, from an old fish who’s hammered his last nail:
Never be ashamed of what you create.
If you believe in it, then stand by it. Even if the universe calls you a criminal.
That’s the only way men like us ever mattered.
Mill