Among the yautja there are clans who specialize in shipbuilding. While it is not unusual for the largest clans to have their own shipwrights, nor is it unusual for most clans to have artificers of some skill, spacefaring vessels are immensely complex and the infrastructure needed in their construction equally so. As such most ships are forged by specialist clans, and traded to the rest of yautja society for supplies and artifacts in bulk. Those clans of shipwrights who forge the hardiest, quickest, and most powerful of vessels are honored and respected across yautja society -- even as their siblings and cousins elevate martial skill above all else, none can deny the prestige of being a naval power.
Karad is a shipwright, and a younger member of one of these specialist clans who supply spacefaring vessels to the whole of yautja society. Or rather, he *was*, for he had been on an ill-fated expedition to recover a hyperspace artifact from a lost colony. The mercenary hunters who had accompanied Karad and his fellow clan artificers were beset by abominations upon landing and quickly slain, and of the artificers only he had survived by cloaking and escaping into the colony proper.
Weaponless save for his bracer claws and ceremonial dagger, Karad had wandered the surface of the dusty, ruined planet for days. In daylight he cloaked and sought concealment among the crumbling structures that dotted the landscape, in moonlight he ran, jumped, and climbed swiftly across bridges, ramparts, and roofs. His goal was to reach an abandoned spaceport many miles away, to refit one of the many decommissioned ships presumably left there, and to make good on his escape from this forsaken planet. His movement was not unopposed, for the abominations had somehow sensed there was a survivor of the initial assault, and were crawling the dead city in search for the shipwright.
It had been going well until the early pangs of hunger finally caught up, causing Karad to lose focus and slow down. There was nothing to eat upon this desolate planet's surface and the abominations did not need sustenance to continue the hunt day and night. He found himself lying concealed in rubble beneath a ruined arch, watching the horizon, planning his next move, when out of nowhere a heavy metal boot stepped on his back -- not an attack, but certainly not gently either.
"What's this?" clicked an amused voice, another yautja. "A lost hunter? Not of the clans of war or hunt, I sense. You have the bearing of an artificer."
"Get off me and we can have a proper conversation," said Karad with a scowl. The other yautja acquiesced and as Karad stood, he saw he was speaking to a dark-clad elite of one of the clans of shadow. Karad appraised the interloper. "Who are you?"
"A Teer," said the yautja. "My given name I shall keep to myself. I believe I know your clan. Skilled shipwrights, yes? We traded for one of your silent cutters seventeen cycles ago."
Ah, yes, a stealth ship. Clan Teer, few in number and quiet of presence, made good use of them. "And what business does a Teer have on this planet?"
Laughter. "Besides saving your miserable hide? I've been tracking you for three suns now and it's clear you won't be lasting much longer on your own."
Karad clicked his mandibles. "I never took the Teers for philanthropists," he said dryly.
"True. We are searching for the Engine of Ankaram. I gather by your presence here that you were too."
The Teer was right. This expedition was to recover a hyperspace engine that could traverse any stellar-scale gravity well short of a black hole safely, an immense strategic and tactical advantage for any clan fleet that possessed even one of these engines. Any ship with such an engine could perform covert strikes on adversary leadership without worrying about interdiction. This artifact was forged by the ancient -- and now lost -- shipwright clan Ankaram. It is believed only a few copies remain, scattered across this galaxy in places Clan Ankaram once called home. Nonetheless, something bothered Karad -- few had the expertise in lore to know where to search for an Ankaram Engine to begin with. Cautiously, he said, "I'm surprised you know of the artifact."
"We have our ways," said the Teer simply. As expected of a shadow clan -- they dealt in secrets as much as they did in death. Such was their role in yautja society, to carry out covert operations. Little-known and much-feared, they held ranks among the greatest of the war clans. This Teer seemed unlikely to reveal more about how he had happened upon this Ankaram colony. Karad suspected it was either brokered information, or pried from one of their opponents with torture.
A moment of silence passed, then Karad said, "My part in this mission is over. I must return to my clanhome. I suppose the artifact is yours, if you are able to recover it."
"Because your expedition is dead?" said the Teer, amusement creeping back into his voice. "Yes, I've seen the remains of your craft and its crew. Perhaps you shouldn't have trusted this mission's security to an unworthy mercenary clan. But I have an offer for you, such that you may return to your clan with your head held high. You see, the Teers are in need of talented artificers -- especially what with this artifact we will soon possess. Give us your word that you will honor Clan Teer with your craft for twelve cycles, and I shall let you accompany me in recovering this artifact. I have a ship in orbit that we may use to leave this system."
Karad clicked his mandibles but said nothing. It was not uncommon for clan artificers and shipwrights to station with other clans for extended periods of time, adopting their culture, sometimes even their names -- as a matter of practicality, for instance, as not every hunter clan has the resources necessary to train their own in such matters. Nonetheless, this was a substantial commitment on part of the artificer, and his clan elders would normally not be impressed by the circumstances -- but the prestige of recovering an Ankaram artifact should make up for that and more.
"I tire of words," said the Teer. "I am here to hunt serpentspawn and the treasures they guard, not rescue lost artificers. Make your decision now."
Between the odds of Karad making it to the abandoned spaceport with the abominations everywhere, and the presence of an elite hunter-killer of a shadow clan, there was no real choice. "I accept," said Karad. "For the offer of transport off-planet, and for the honor of artifact recovery, I pledge my services to Clan Teer for four times three cycles hence." He glanced towards the ruined city on the horizon, its broken geometric spires gleaming in the dusty orange sky. "The Ankaram Engine is located in an underground facility in the city center, where the old clan was finalizing the reactor section of a planet-cracker."
"Good," said the Teer, "you will show me the way."
Karad was tempted to snort. The Teer surely knew there were abominations prowling the city, and the city center must be positively *teeming*. "I'm an artificer, not a warrior. I would be a liability in battle. It would be wiser for me to keep my distance."
"Then I will teach you how not to be a liability. The Teer do not tolerate dilettantes in matters of war."
"I have focused on little else but shipbuilding for many cycles. It would be faster and simpler if I guided you remotely."
The Teer laughed. "While we do appreciate your talent in artifice, it is the Teer way that all of us must be skilled in battle. War comes to us all whether we like it or not. Come, I am a patient one. I will train you for as many suns as is necessary until you can face this serpent hive with confidence."
Karad groaned inwardly. This would be a long cycle.