There it sat, in a dusty storage hangar avoided by most. Surrounded by wrecks of CTE and other civilian ships, waiting to be scrapped or restored. In the first few days, the visits were daily. Nathan showed up to tinker with it a bit, swap out some parts here, fix some others there. Days soon turned to weekends. Enthusiasm vaned for the project; the once exotic ship became more of a headache and a reason to curse at Bretonian engineering solutions.

As with every project and hobby, the more it turns into a chore, the less one wants to deal with it. Nathan has no time nor patience to go over the entire wiring of the ship, just to find the single part that got fried by a mechanic. There were changes in the Alliance too. What little free time he had was turned towards other, more important matters. Patching up ships after patrols, teaching some of the daft Alliance members that a parking light fluid doesn’t exist, along with teaching them simple repairs. You broke it, you fix it.

Thus, the project itself was destined to fail. Gradual extinction through lack of attention.