I think, we need to start on the story, let the interest flesh out an artist
what is our "Back Ground Story"
I can tell you about The Janitor
born in New Punjab India

hmm

*  looks around quietly and takes in the terrain

"well, this will need to be cleaned up a bit before hand"

*  starts to clear away a small clearing, seated in the dirt of the forest floor. Pulling out a small hand shovel, starts to dig a small hole in the center. Hands filthy with the task, he stands and starts to walk over and move large stones around the freshly marked earth. Looking up you notice several logs laying by, freshly cut with a beam laser, a stump left near as reminder of the gift.

* Snap/Snap twigs begin to gather as the old hands continues his chores. Moving back to the new circle of rocks, goes to building a small house of sticks, laying a tower against each other reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small can of engine cleaner and "tsst tsst" gently over the make shift structure hand quickly returns to the pocket to show an emergency welding torch. With a Snap the life jumps out of the home as the fire starts to eat for life
quickly moves the larger sticks over the fresh life as the snaps of the dark slowly fades to the glow of the old ways

Have a seat

*grabs a cut log and props it near the fire. Eyes growing lost in the dance it gives, a moment of silence as thoughts start to take form

In the village I grew up in, they use to tell of a time before all of this. A time when all we had time to do is live from the ground. All of that, lost really. At that time, you didn't have power plants to drive your cities, ships to explore far away questions, all you had was those you knew, and the fire which kept them warm.
takes a stick that's laying next to him and stirs the sparks from the forming ashes

I was found near New Punjab India. so I have been told. My parents, the ones who found me, where priests of the old ways within the village. I guess for some, the cry of a child still stirs something in them.
They were kind, even to an orphan as myself. My papa, told me that I was found originally by a she-wolf who was guarding me, I think he's just being kind, giving the abandoned something to hold to.
In ways, it may have worked, I guess time will tell.

* Snap of the wood causes a settling of the fire as it takes over its small domain

Naveen and Mayeela was their names. Being believers of the Old Ways, they ended up thinks of how to phrase it being killed for not backing the advancements underway. The Old Ways were seen as a threat to advancement. Little they knew, it was the key to them.

* pulls out a small flask and fills a tin cup 1/4 way. Takes a sip from the cup and continues his tale

Being so young at the time of their death, barely gave me a fighting chance. I didn't know if papa's stories were worth remembering, I knew that earth itself, will never be ready to understand them. It would be into the Black for this wolf. There, maybe some answers

I spent the majority of my younger years freight hauling between systems. Wasn't much other work at the time.
I remember papa warning me that man is a fool if he thinks he can jump in and out of witch space and not leave scares. I didn't understand what that all ment at the time but more and more those words echo within me.

"Do they really know what they are doing?"
"Just because you can do something, doesn't mean you should..."
"Open doors tend to be used"

Ramblings of an old man, lost in ways forgotten, or shouts of warning beyond time itself.
couldn't say, but the old man was right.

* sips his cup, tossing the little remains to the fire. Fire bursting in a controlled yet violent display of delight

There are two ultimate positions of authority in any cooperation, The CEO and The Janitor
Both have the Keys
But that's a different story, I'm getting ahead of myself.

First time I started to notice the change was during one of those long hauls. System after system, jump after jumps. Time stops, counts bleed into each other. You don't dare count down the jumps, that would drive someone mad.
For me, I started to notice the change in the form of glimpses. Like through a vale dancing in a breeze. The stars, as they tunnel to the jump, I started to see.

At first, thought I was pushing myself to hard, seeing things.
but the stars would show me, differently, as they sped by

Back when WitchSpace was discovered/shared, some of the older scientists shared their concerns. "What will happen to man as he continues to break the seal?" At the time, the Mega Corporations and their owners had their hands on this technology. Hard choices had to be made. "Do we use caution and go slow, falling further enslaved to a techno-cratics, or do we make the information available for all" We all know what happened from there.
so, is it any surprise, mankind is now showing the signs of this long term exposure?

“Three, Six, Nine, Six, Three, Two, Two”

* The Janitor continues his story, with stick in hand, stirring the coals of the new slowing fire. His eyes drawn deep into the dance of the flames

“These numbers use to mean nothing to me.” The Janitor slipping his hand into is pocket, pulling out a round disk that fit easily within his palm. He looked at it, flipping it over from side to side, stopping at one of them and looking intently continues “three, six, nine, six, three, two, two” Only thing I’ve been able to make any sense out of the writing on this key.

* With a flip, the small disk is tossed into the air in your direction. Your hand lifts to catch it solid into your palm, a benefit Goid hunting has given you. Your fingers close in as you turn your palm to see what this thing is. Never seeing something like this before, it looked like it was made out of gold, or gold covered. Emblems and symbals stamped into each side, whose meaning as strange as the device. On one side along the circle shape are the numbers you heard given “3696322”

* The Janitor continues

“They use to call it a coin. Before a universal credit system was established, it was how the native tribes use to store wealth. The old man called this one a Key. That’s all he ever said about it. He told me one day I would understand. He didnt mention it would take over 30 years to unwrap this mystery.”

* You go to return the gold disc to its owner but is met with a hand open to the hault.

“That one is yours. I had some extras replicated. If your going to join me, your going to need a key too.” Not sure what your getting yourself into, you slowly move your hand in your pocket and continue to the old voice explain further.

“Best Ive been able to come up with. The old man use to be an FSD engineer and stumbled on something that was too dangerous to let out. Instead, he left the most vital bit of information etched in this Key. ‘3696322’ to be found by the only one who knew it was a mystery to be solved.”

* The Janitor voice grows quieter, his eyes narrow from a once welcoming stance, to a wolf who is very aware of his surroundings. His eyes looks past the fire which once had them fixed, locked directly with your own. The atmosphere of the small clearing thickens as you realize now, why he would bring you to such a remote and isolated location for this meeting. The silence grows unconformable as the Janitor’s eyes remain fix as if they try to examine your character through your own. You try to fight the feeling of being exposed, your own secrets being discovered before you are ready.

* The Janitor continues.

“I wont be able to explain everything to you, but let me give you the basics. Witch Space isn’t new, nor is man’s exploration of it. The super powers have been aware of the hooman’s natural ability to harness abilities from witch space for longer then words met paper. For most, its a dormet ability, never truly forming. For few, it shows itself in dreams or glimpses through the vale. Through the years, now generations of man jumping in and out of witch space through FSD technology, it has started grow more noticeable then it had been in generations past.”

“You have been seen exhibiting some of these unique abilities. For each, its different. Showing itself in what appears to be, intellectual abilities. Design, engineering, crafting, smithing. You name it. For others, it starts to form in more physical abilities. These are known as physical adapts who can do things with their body that steps past reasonable explanation. These are the ancient Shadow Warriors as the tribes use to call them. Now’a days, other abilities are being noted such as the ability to control the elements themselves, Water, Fire, Wind(air), Earth. Ancient tribal lore talked about the skin walkers who could take different forms and walk amount others without being discovered. The list of discoveries growing longer I’m sure as the ‘Mega Corp’ continues their pursuit.”

* The Janitor pulls out a small pipe from his work cover-all top pocket. Over the pocket you see the name “Wolf”. He pulls the pipe out and a small pouch which is quickly used to load the content into the smoking device. Retrieving the emergency welding torch you hear a “snap” as a flame dances to life and lights the smoking content. The Janitor takes a slow deep draw on the pipe and lets the smoke leach out as he continues to speak, the sweet aroma dancing past you on the breeze.

* The Janitor continues

“I have been looking the pilots out there who have been showing these abilities who are ready to take this fight to the Slave Makers and ultimately, the Thargoid’s themselves, at their own doorstep” Taking another drag from his pipe and expelling the unused smoke as he pauses to gather his thoughts and choose what to share and what not to share, yet. You have a difficult time knowing where to put all of this. Is it a simple case of Space Madness, too much time along with nothing bout an AI and one’s imagination to keep them busy? The Janitor’s words carry a ring of belief in them as he speaks. If he is crazy, no one let him know yet.

“Your one of the best Thargoid hunters the Pleedus has to offer. If what I’m talking about sounds like a suicide mission that’s because, it is. Our enemies are strong both within our own race as well as outside. Man kind lost his ways generations ago, enslaving and killing its own kind. Add in there the experiments that the Slave Makers have been doing w/ the old Guardian AI technology, man kind will soon find himself fighting a war on three fronts, if not more.”

“My papa use to tell me a story around the Fire of The Old Ways, much like the one I have built for you here. Lets see, how did that go again. Oh yes.” breaking to take another draw off his pipe. “realize, this is in the middle of the story but we dont have time for me to tell you the full legend.

“The Great Spirit saw that once again man had forgotten his task to care for the animals. Having killed from the strong vs the sick, the animals in man’s care grew weak and needy. The Wolf Mother was near her own end, having sacrificed her own mind to save her children. The wolves being hunted and killed by man for doing what man neglected to tend to, too starting to fall into myth vs nature. The Wolf Mother lifted her head, realizing her sacrifice would ultimately end up in vain, cried out with a howl to the Great Spirit ‘The last of my children remain, soon they too will be hunted out of existence. I have failed you Great Spirit. Mem Chu’lu’la  has died by the hands of the men he fought to protect. My beloved, soon I will hunt with you again as I can no longer tell where my mind resides as it has grown lost in the casing of fur. Great Spirit, do not let my life be lost in vane!’  The Great Spirit heard the howls of the Wolf Mother as her sorrow reached him as the wolf’s song sorrowful plea. The Great Spirit saw that soon, through the foolishness of man, the gift he gave them to tend to his land would soon be slaughtered, with each kill driving the Wolf Mother to her own sorrowful death.

“The Great Spirit speaks back to the Wolf Mother and tells her. ‘Mother of The Wolves, your sacrifice will not be lost.  Man kind has only shown that through his pride and greed, he can only bring death to the land. Choosing for himself slavery vs freedom, hatred vs compassion. Due to man’s endless thirst to enslave its own and kill the strong of the land for sport, I can not trust him with the Key. Instead, Mother of The Wolves, from your sacrifice will come a son from you and your soul mate, Mem Chu’lu’la for inside of you I have given you the Guardian of the Key.’ The Wolf Mother lifted her head once more to cry out into the black night in reply, never to speak again. Her mind now lost, her final sacrifice given, her own mind, given up to the instincts of a mother wolf and the littler of one forming within her. “

“Time came and from the Wolf Mother, a man child, yourself my little cub. That’s where we found you. The great Wolf Mother on her last breaths, her mind no longer with her, she protected you till your mother and I showed up. For some reason, she picked us to raise you from the cub you are, to a great wolf of your own. The Great Spirit has entrusted you with the Key for your not just in man’s flesh, but within you the spirit of the wolf continues to live inside. You not only will grow to be a great hunter and warrior, but a leader to help man once again find his way.”

“That is when my papa gave me the Key and told me that I will know what to do when the time comes. An old man’s compassion on and abandoned orphan or something more. I wasn’t sure until I started to experience the changes myself. It was then I learned what the door the key was for.“ The old man’s head lowers as he speaks words you never expected to hear “the door to Witch Space. All you need is an FSD you can adjust to the resonance frequency offset of .3696322. I didn’t believe it at first till I tried it. I use to ignore the old man’s wild stories, now I strain my old memory to preserve them. Something is going on and its time to figure whats on the other side we need to find.”

To Be Continued...