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It's the era of something new. Or perhaps it's as old as the stars you now see, and you just don't quite know it yet.

You have left your home behind by accident, a science nearly indistinguishable from magic plucking you from your world and time as easily as opening a door. The Ingress is here, ever eternal, and one of four faces greet you with an opportunity to return home, “just sign right here…” There appears to be no deceit in their words, no fine print to the temporary contract of employment — for they are the same as you in most ways. You are told of distant worlds with technologies as advanced as the ship you are on, and only by traversing the deepest reaches of this galaxy will returning home even become a possibility.

The Moira is at your disposal, as are its unusual captains, but there are whispers heard across the planets and lost in the lights of distant suns. The decisions you have made and will continue to make will affect what becomes of you and the crew. Destiny, after all, is no matter of chance, and it is not a thing to be waited for. It is a choice, a thing to be achieved. Or so it has been said by nameless others before.

Because they are there. They are watching.