Eve is in chaos. In lands far to the south, a great distance from civilization, a despicable tyrant rules the land. With legions of mindless zombies under his command, Sir Molle, roams amongst the lands, overcharging denizens for the squalid land he promises to defend. In his arrogance, Sir Molle sets his sights north, envious of the rich lands held by the great and worthy Northern Coalition.
However, Sir Molle is a coward.
During several failed attempts to claim sovereignty over the northern lands, in fear of his own demise, he leaves several of his very own noble capitals, nigh royalty amongst Molle's fodder, to save his personal transports. Failure ensues. Now Sir Molle is in retreat. He scrambles back to his hovel, rallying what fools are still loyal to the cause, to help defend the very domain within which protection was promised to its inhabitants. The Northern Coalition is now on the offensive, ready to strike down the tyrant and free the oppressed under his rule. Unknown to even them, however, their new ally, an experimental sect, ignored for following the Word of B0rt, will open the path to Sir Molle's destruction.
Despite his exceptionally young age, Juffalo was always mocked for his insignificance for the cause. The most ignored freighter in a Test Alliance, Please Ignore, he was left spinning himself, securely within the bounds of a remote outpost, near the forward camp of Delve.
“Why don't you be useful and move some trit,” demanded Tezsaurus, as he continued recording footage with his Frapatron. “I'm going to it to fuel our war machine, so we won't be forced to rely on the hero Rifters for all of our assaults.”
“How can I,” Juffalo exclaimed. “The prostitute hasn't delivered my Hulkor for extraction yet!”
“Enough of your excuses. I have a propoganda program to run and orders to fill.”
Tezsaurus continued his rant for several minutes before Juffalo decided to sneak back to the safety of the outpost. There seemed to be no use for him anywhere amongst the soldiers. He would remain uselessly spinning in the outpost, until he would disappear into obscurity, amongst the care bear corpses, that littered the battlefields. I can not wait here, Juffalo thought. I will venture out myself to prove my worth to the Northern Coalition. I will go to the nearby region and get all up in that bitch myself…
Kartoon, a much older but influential wizard, hailing from his private fortress of Mount Fukgünz came upon Juffalo. “I've seen that same look in many a freighter eye, but never in one as small and new as you. I have gathered intelligence that there is a legendary iHub in the neighboring region that even the most seasoned or crazed freighter won't pursue. Someone should take the iHub and shove it up Sir Molle's ass and no one will ever seek to hold sovereignty there again” With a laugh, Kartoon's frayed booze-soaked beard flailed in the wind. “But perhaps you should invest in an insurance policy first.”
After filling the paperwork required for Juffalo's life insurance policy, a depressing occasion that left Juffalo with a poor sense of worth, Juffalo stuck his head outside the safety of his home system for the first time. Outside, in the wilds of Delve, he found tribal nomads, clinging to the old ways of Noob, an organization festered with spies and others who sought to hide from the wrath of Sir Molle. Sneaking to the gate, Juffalo's intuition lead him to believe that hostiles were waiting on the outskirts of the next region. Quickly retreating back into the outpost, decided to wait a few minutes until the hostile tribes left before proceeding on his own. Seconds turned to minutes, minutes to hours, until a Juffalo realized the time of down was quickly approaching, and he was growing weary.
Suddenly, Juffalo was overcome by a foreign emotion. Almost a sense of twisted appeal as the hostile tribes left sight. Juffalo dove headlong toward the gate, forcing his bulk through until he popped through to the neighboring region. As he suspected, the enemy was waiting in ambush for him, conjuring the powers of hurricanes and the wraths of crows. That didn't slow Juffalo though his enemies have already spotted the iHub intended to stop Juffalo from reaching it. Ramming through his enemies, Juffalo made a mad dash for the legendary iHub, dodging abandoned outposts and TCUs. Unfortunately, his imposers were much too fast for Juffalo's girth. Beating him to the iHub, they soon realised they hand't the capacity to contain it, so they switched their focus to destroying the iHub once and for all.
As they begun their assault, Juffalo finally reached the iHub, scooping the device from the very clutch of his enemies. In desperation, the controllers of Hurricanes and Crows surrounded Juffalo, preventing any form of escape. Using their superior weaponry, they began to attack Juffalo, easily tearing through his armor and digging through his flesh. Realizing he would never be able to return with the iHub, Juffalo did the one thing he was able.
Before the final blow was landed, Juffalo anchored the iHub as he feel to his knees. A pulse rippled through the region, announcing the activation of the module. The masters of Hurricanes and Crows struck at the iHub, but were unable to even scratch its might. Quickly they fled, leaving Juffalo with victory, but at great cost. With a burst of fire, Juffalo was no more.
With the activation of the iHub, Sir Molle's domain began to dwindle. Setting his sights on the Test Alliance, he decided they could no longer be ignored. He sent his drones to attack with a vengeance, as his bitter tears of rage fell down his face. Even an infant child could handle loss better then Molle. Alas for his subjects, for they were subjected his ranting for days to come. Even though he sacrificed his life, Juffalo's actions were not forgotten. His actions help secure a route to the very heart of Sir Molle's land, giving rise to his eventual defeat. Despite his short-lived existance, Juffalo shall eternally be remembered, as the bravest little freighter.