|Game:||Ring Runner: Flight of the Sages|
|Card Number:||1 of 6|
|Description:|| The Centrians are a particularly crass Path of the Solarian race that collect cybernetics like tattoos. Their "enhancements" rarely serve a practical purpose and are often a source of great inconvenience. For Centrians, it's not about how much an arm can lift or how fast the pistons of their legs can carry them; it's about the history of the metal from which they're made. Minerals that can be traced back to Earth are preferred, and those that have seen battle are particularly valued. The Centrian mafias have launched headlong into more than one war simply to appreciate the value of their resulting scrap.
The heavy smog that blankets their homeworld of Centrias is not a byproduct of industry or traffic. There are factories whose only purpose is to churn out acrid clouds like black cotton; it saves on cigar expenses. This pollution coupled with the highest population of Centrians in the universe, is enough disincentive to keep the Consortium out of Centrias. Free from Sophian eyes, the Centrian kingpins become walking trophy cases of I.C.E.s (Illegal Corporeal Enhancements). To get "ICEd out like a fridge on Pluto," is every Centrian's ambition; those that succeed earn the title of "ICE Chest."