The young man from Veris Oth had been a strip miner for most of his life.

Day in and day out, he would take huge machine parts from an assembly line to a busy workstation and wrench and pull and twist on them until something worthwhile came out — if anything ever did. His hands were thick with oil and grime, his muscles worn from repetition. The sound of machinery never ceased, grinding and roaring, drowning out thoughts of anything beyond the Factory Lands.