Science to build a starship. Wizardry to take it past light speed. A crew to give it a soul.

In the year 2254 gravity was officially declared to be magic; the scientists gave up trying to figure it out and handed it over to the wizards. Without the inherent respect for the laws of physics, the wizards poked and prodded at gravity, poring over all that science knew about the attraction of one object to the next, and dismissed it as poppycock. They discovered ways around the tired, old limits and gave birth to the first true starships. Some enlightened journalist, covering the maiden voyage of the Impossible, noted that the ship was shaped like a hand giving the middle finger to science.

The dreams of children came alive, and humanity expanded into the cosmos, unlocking the secrets of the galaxy. Who could have foreseen that 300 years later, a down-on-his-luck captain would be answering distress calls, hoping to arrive in time to get first pick of the salvage?

A routine salvage job turns into a rescue mission, and a good deed never goes unpunished. With two refugees aboard, Captain Carl Ramsey finds that his ship, the Mobius, has a target painted on its hull. Someone is after the new passengers and willing to stop at nothing to get them back.

With his ex-wife as pilot, a drunken mechanic, a predatory bodyguard, and an outcast wizard from the Convocation, what's a captain to do? Just get paid for the job and try to keep everyone alive. That's all you can ever ask, really.