Everyone is indeed entitled to their own personal hell...it is in the fires of this hell that one forges themselves into something greater...something more.
Gustave, from the moment he was born his life was marked as a hard one. The son of Endrede Courbet, a zoner of Freeport 10 and an Outcast trader by the name of Gabriella Guillermo. He was plagued by birth with the lucid immersing dreams of Malta, as well as the crushing dependency to a substance that some called drug, and others...gateway. As a young boy he traveled the space lanes with his mother, listening to her stories and learning to master the dreams that drove so many to the very gates of madness. The wild paths of the tau systems were not kind however, and one day amidst the heavenly panorama of Tau 37 that he and his mother ran afoul of bounty hunters looking to make quick cred. His mother, after a desperate struggle got him into an escape pod amongst the sound of the hull cracking under it's own weight. The bounty hunters took only his mother from the cold expanse, leaving him to the void and the goddess Nyx. For five days he floated trapped in his coffin. The Cardimine, warping his reality in that small grave. He saw visions of the future, and of the past. Terrible visions of Broiling planets and dark gulfs of antimatter. Great black planets that had never seen light and the fiery deaths of alien worlds of gas and plasma. In this timeless state he watched the birth and death of stars, and saw the lumbering paths of galaxies. He was alone, cold, the emptiness was maddening. Then, amidst the chaos of this projected infinity he saw it, his home though he had never been there, Tze'niel...no, not in this time, it was...Malta. He saw the Progenitors as they landed on Malta long ago, seeding it so that Humanity might become something greater. Weaving DNA into a tapestry to guide a race that had not yet begun to look up at the stars. An then something transcendent happened, they look up at him. They spoke all together without speaking. "Your's is a hard path, of the gift but not of the people...this is not your end, but a beginning...do not succumb to the void, for even here there is the dream, and the dream young one, is the key." Suddenly he saw it all, his path, his mothers, the bounty hunters that would rape and kill her. He saw the ephemeral and the looked past such petty idea's as time and space. In this perfect moment he saw the true nature of the dream and it's people...it's was overpowering his mind refusing to comprehend all that he was witnessing. Soon the blackness over took him, but this time he took with him the gift. He awoke aboard a roving IMG freighter, he had been on board fighting for his life for three days. Though the crew on board were kind enough, they were afraid of him, and bitter about his heritage. So even though he was promised a job on board as a young deck hand, he vanished none the less at the next station. His path was not with those few, he was a vessel to share the glory of truth. He belonged to Malta and was of it, Sirius was not the Saviour of the human race...it was the birth of a new race entirely. He drifted through the undercities taking odd jobs, helping those among the path, and trying to recollect all that he had learned in that brief moment of omniscience. Working were he could he strived to amass enough money to make it home and inherit that which was gifted to all children of Malta. No, he would not inherit, he would enrich, enhance...for his soul now belonged to the dream.
