Nargreth
01-02-2005, 06:47
OOC: Thank you for showing up, everyone. This is a new Nation, though I am somewhat experianced in Role-Playing here in NS. I have a Modern Tech. Nation, though with Nargreth, I want to branch out into FT. This is the "Background" of the Nargrethians, their reason for being so lost in dessolet space.
The Ships are from Battlestar Galactica, though I'm much more a fan of the old series, than the new rip-off from Scifi Channel. The SL of their beginning is somewhat akin to it as well...but I assure you, it isn't based off of it.
I haven't posted ship details yet, I'll get to it tomorrow. I have to get some rest for tomorrow.
Hope Y'all like it....
IC:
"The Nargrethian Annotations"
A brief history of the Nargrethian homeworld, written two generations after the Nargrethian fleet's departure from the Planet Oneireus. No written record beyond this single, unamed author's inquiries with the Grandfathers and Grandmothers, the ones whom actually laid eyes upon the almost fairy tale homeworld.
"So much was unknown about where we, the Nargrethians, came from. The first gens knew, they knew so well about our homeworld, but never spoke to us of it. In fact, it was held with tight secracy, and I felt that I was breaking some unspoken boundries, as if I were being whispered the secret memories of the first gens. The aging King Asgare Antaires XXI would not even dare speak of it. He just led us upon this blind venture into the edge of our universe, and even passed laws to hold anyone who spoke of what brought us here as treasenous to the...'ideals and security' of the Nargrethian People. What was left of them.
My Grandfather, Goddess rest his soul, wouldn't even share his memories and shunned me when I asked. Which was why I was surprised when someone contacted me one day. I was digging into the old data files of one of the more obscure ships in the Fleet, the freighter "Geornes" hoping it would have some scrap of information. The Data Banks of every ship had been wiped clean of evidence of our origins. No spacecharts, no trade logs, nothing. There had been a massive cover-up by the Crown to keep any mention of the Homeworld from the eyes of its public...or, its crews, as I should say.
This fellow contacted me via Personal Fleet message (PFM), saying that my 'meddlesome curiosity' as he put it, had gotten around in his ship's crew; the Ore Refinery Ship "Entisc", where the very old were sent to serve untill death, and the very young were sent to be trained by the dying.
I found out that his name was Marcill Patia, he was a rather high-ranking official in the old Kingdom, but was busted down to a simple crewmen when our people boarded the fleet and left the homeworld. He never elaborated on what he actually did in the old Kingdom, but I was ecstatic at the mere prospect of someone telling me something...anything, that might have to do with the Homeworld, and why we are here.
I obtained clearance to charter a craft to the Entisc, and met the old fellow in his quarters of the Ore Refinery Ship. I must say I had a touch of envy for him, despite his decrepit look, his worn, weathered face, still dirty from work in the deep bowels of the ship. His eyes were still bright, a brightness only held by the "first Generation" of our people. The ones whom only spent half their lives in space, the ones whom were lucky enough to behold the old Kingdom planet. Not like us, not like the third gens, we had been born, bred and raised in space. It was all we knew.
We sat and spoke for a while, small talk for the most part, trying to scratch out the nervous attitude we both had. In the course of our unsteady conversation, I found out that he was dying of a heart disease, and he didn't have very long to live...that must have been why he was so willing to speak to me. He told me, simply, "I do not wish the homeworld to be forgotten, as the King does."
After that, the mood became more sincere, dour. A saddened look came over his face as he looked to me with a stare that made me feel small in comparison. He proceeded to tell me things that put me in shock.
He told me of the old world, a lush, green, prosperous planet, full of life and dotted with large cities. The whoel world was united under one man, but it was not our King. That was one of many things he told me that contradicted everything I was told. King Lathron Neuroth was the leader of not only the world, but also the vast colonies which spanned across the solar system, he ruled an empire that covered all known territory of the Oneireus system.
King Lathron Neuroth was an aging King, much like our own is now. His health was failing, he had no heirs, the masses were fearing what would happen if no true heirs stepped up. Dissention was on the rise, as political factions began to gear up for the suspected "Big grab," that would be left in the void of power left after his death. King Asgare Antaires XXI was but a minor player in the royal bloodline, but he cited vehemotely that he himself, was the rightful heir to the thrown. He went off on great tangents amongst his peers, about evidence that he did not show, that the current King was a usurper, who was a false King, that his entire Kingly bloodline was a lie...and the Antaires bloodline was true.
This action only earned him the title of a brigand amongst the ranks of the royal family, which saw him as a threat, and scrambled to produce their own heir, to prevent the Neuroth bloodline from losing power. Debate after debate ensued, genetic lineages were traced, old records that had been long buried and forgotten, wer eonce more exumed and looked over...not only was there no sign of an Antaires as a King, but suspicious was raised that even the Neuroth bloodline was false, as King Asgare had claimed. The news of this falacy brought even more dissention, and the King's health was waning even further. King Asgare Antaires, seeing no opprotunity to gain the thrown legally, raised his followers and began to set forth to overthrow the Kingdom.
King Asgare brought together his people as an army of the people, 12,000,000 in all. They were each called to disrupt the daily services of the King's departments. Storming capitol buildings, raiding ground-based military installations. Even rioting at the main spacestation orbiting the planet. Though the 12 million were but a small percentage of the population, this sudden uprising caused a mssive lock-down in governmental power. Martial law was declared in certain areas of the Kingdom, while King Antaires himself took a large assortment of his "Soldiers" to the grand Palace. There, he confronted the King's guard, and was soundly defeated. Antaires was captured, and without a structure of command, or even a real base of reasoning, the riots, raids, and all other operations ceased. 346,000 of the dissidents were killed in the end.
King Neuroth issued a decree, which offered the dissidents immunity if they simply swore an oath of allegiance once again to Him. Over half did so, this proved only that the dissidents were weak, their resolve was nothing under the power of even an ailing thrown. Those who stood by their self-proclaimed ruler were arrested, and put on trial as a whole. King Antaires and his People were sentanced to exile, but of course, it would have been too hard to simply shove that many people onto one of the rim worlds on the outter-edges of the system. They were forced to sell their estates, all but their most personal belongings, everything. They were forced to pool their wealth together, and forfeit it to the Government. In return, they were given a fleet of ships, enough to carry them to their exile, not to a single planet, but, simply, to the stars.
400 ships were acquired by the loyalists, and boarded their ships, forever leaving their homeworld...
This is where he began to become too illegible to discern, his tears by now had swollen his face, and he had became a mess of a man. After I had calmed him, we spoke no more of the matter, we carried on to other stories of old, and spoke of things which did not tear his heart so much. After that encounter, I understood why King Antaires was so secretive about the past, about our reason for being on these old ships. He was a false King, but he was a true leader, and believed in his cause. Now it was not a cause to become a King, for he had already done so, in his people's eyes. Now, it was to find a new home amongst the stars.
So, with this new enlightenment, I close this little book of mine, I hope that this is not the only written acocunt of our beginnings...I hope..."
King Sæter Antaires sat quietly in the captain's chair of the "Steorra", the flagship of the so-called "Waylay Fleet." He thought broadly to himself as he read over the 'Nargrethian Annotations', as he had many times before. He could nearly recite it word for word by now, but he could not keep from reading it "just one more time." He did not know the person who wrote the book, he did not even try to seek him, becuase that was over 8 generations ago. He held in his hands the only known written record of his people's beginnings, and when he thought about it, the author's time was much simpler.
By the time King Sæter Antaires took the unglorious thrown, 85 ships had been lost in the travels. Most due to navigational errors, as the vessels slipped through in the process of space-fold. Some losses were due to reactor failure, ancient powerplants exploding. The only thing the fleet could do was save those who survived, pull the bodies from the wreckage and salvage what their dead hands clung to. Despite the tragedy of such events, it turned the crews into very profecient salvagers, they needed every part, every piece of scrap for the repair and rebuild of the ships that survived.
Now though, the long travels of the Nargrethians was hopefully over. The last projected Space-Fold jump had ended with success a few days ago. Surprisingly, it had ended with complete success, every ship arrived right on time, from the massive Warcruisers, with the Steorra ahead of the pack, to the slothful, yet vitally important Ore Refinery and Manufacturing ships. The large fleet was not running on subspace drivers, drawing ever nearer to the sun that the fleet had been steering to for so long. Half of King Sæter Antaires's 38 years was spent venturing to this system, and finally, he was upon it.
Sæter Antaires closed the book and stood up from the captain's chair and took a prideful stride across the half-deck that overlooked the cavernous and expansive control quarters of the Steorra. The crew's moral was especially high, for good reason, their journey was about to end, at least they hoped...
Sæter Antaires's breif moment of awe was momentarily taken away, as he heard the fimiliar voice of the commander of the Fleet, Reston Seft.
"Your Highness, we have reached our grid coordinates, the rest of the fleet shall be with us in the next few hours...that sun is beautiful, isn't it?" Commander Seft said randomly, as they both admired the glaring and bright sun, which filled the viewport that stretched across the control decks.
"...yes, yes it is, Commander. Beginning short and long-range scans, send out a hailing signal on all frequencies. We shall stay in this position for the next few days, see what happened. Scan specifically for asteroid fields and other areas of salvagable resources. Also, prepare the probes." Sæter, always hiding his feelings of optimism with great attention to detail. He hoped desperately that things would go well, that fi there were any intelligent forms in this sector, they would recieve their signals. Though another par tof him hoped that there wasn't anything out there, but ghost signals and solar wind.
The Steorra, and several other ships in the contengent began discharging probes, some were compact metallic balls, that simply shoved off into a falt trajectory, emitting signals as it went. Others were much more complex, though outdated, much of the systems the fleet used were ancient, but what could be improved upon, was. There was no better proving grounds than field testing. The Mk.II Sector Probe was designed for the mission of finding recourses for the Mining ships to collect from.
The Mk. II Probes were basically small sensor arrays fitted onto scavanged directional control engines, which came from the more unfortunate vessels. They networked together and transmitted a very complete picture of the layout of a sector.
Now all there was to do, was sit, and wait for the rest of the fleet...and of course, the probes to return their information...hopefully...
The Ships are from Battlestar Galactica, though I'm much more a fan of the old series, than the new rip-off from Scifi Channel. The SL of their beginning is somewhat akin to it as well...but I assure you, it isn't based off of it.
I haven't posted ship details yet, I'll get to it tomorrow. I have to get some rest for tomorrow.
Hope Y'all like it....
IC:
"The Nargrethian Annotations"
A brief history of the Nargrethian homeworld, written two generations after the Nargrethian fleet's departure from the Planet Oneireus. No written record beyond this single, unamed author's inquiries with the Grandfathers and Grandmothers, the ones whom actually laid eyes upon the almost fairy tale homeworld.
"So much was unknown about where we, the Nargrethians, came from. The first gens knew, they knew so well about our homeworld, but never spoke to us of it. In fact, it was held with tight secracy, and I felt that I was breaking some unspoken boundries, as if I were being whispered the secret memories of the first gens. The aging King Asgare Antaires XXI would not even dare speak of it. He just led us upon this blind venture into the edge of our universe, and even passed laws to hold anyone who spoke of what brought us here as treasenous to the...'ideals and security' of the Nargrethian People. What was left of them.
My Grandfather, Goddess rest his soul, wouldn't even share his memories and shunned me when I asked. Which was why I was surprised when someone contacted me one day. I was digging into the old data files of one of the more obscure ships in the Fleet, the freighter "Geornes" hoping it would have some scrap of information. The Data Banks of every ship had been wiped clean of evidence of our origins. No spacecharts, no trade logs, nothing. There had been a massive cover-up by the Crown to keep any mention of the Homeworld from the eyes of its public...or, its crews, as I should say.
This fellow contacted me via Personal Fleet message (PFM), saying that my 'meddlesome curiosity' as he put it, had gotten around in his ship's crew; the Ore Refinery Ship "Entisc", where the very old were sent to serve untill death, and the very young were sent to be trained by the dying.
I found out that his name was Marcill Patia, he was a rather high-ranking official in the old Kingdom, but was busted down to a simple crewmen when our people boarded the fleet and left the homeworld. He never elaborated on what he actually did in the old Kingdom, but I was ecstatic at the mere prospect of someone telling me something...anything, that might have to do with the Homeworld, and why we are here.
I obtained clearance to charter a craft to the Entisc, and met the old fellow in his quarters of the Ore Refinery Ship. I must say I had a touch of envy for him, despite his decrepit look, his worn, weathered face, still dirty from work in the deep bowels of the ship. His eyes were still bright, a brightness only held by the "first Generation" of our people. The ones whom only spent half their lives in space, the ones whom were lucky enough to behold the old Kingdom planet. Not like us, not like the third gens, we had been born, bred and raised in space. It was all we knew.
We sat and spoke for a while, small talk for the most part, trying to scratch out the nervous attitude we both had. In the course of our unsteady conversation, I found out that he was dying of a heart disease, and he didn't have very long to live...that must have been why he was so willing to speak to me. He told me, simply, "I do not wish the homeworld to be forgotten, as the King does."
After that, the mood became more sincere, dour. A saddened look came over his face as he looked to me with a stare that made me feel small in comparison. He proceeded to tell me things that put me in shock.
He told me of the old world, a lush, green, prosperous planet, full of life and dotted with large cities. The whoel world was united under one man, but it was not our King. That was one of many things he told me that contradicted everything I was told. King Lathron Neuroth was the leader of not only the world, but also the vast colonies which spanned across the solar system, he ruled an empire that covered all known territory of the Oneireus system.
King Lathron Neuroth was an aging King, much like our own is now. His health was failing, he had no heirs, the masses were fearing what would happen if no true heirs stepped up. Dissention was on the rise, as political factions began to gear up for the suspected "Big grab," that would be left in the void of power left after his death. King Asgare Antaires XXI was but a minor player in the royal bloodline, but he cited vehemotely that he himself, was the rightful heir to the thrown. He went off on great tangents amongst his peers, about evidence that he did not show, that the current King was a usurper, who was a false King, that his entire Kingly bloodline was a lie...and the Antaires bloodline was true.
This action only earned him the title of a brigand amongst the ranks of the royal family, which saw him as a threat, and scrambled to produce their own heir, to prevent the Neuroth bloodline from losing power. Debate after debate ensued, genetic lineages were traced, old records that had been long buried and forgotten, wer eonce more exumed and looked over...not only was there no sign of an Antaires as a King, but suspicious was raised that even the Neuroth bloodline was false, as King Asgare had claimed. The news of this falacy brought even more dissention, and the King's health was waning even further. King Asgare Antaires, seeing no opprotunity to gain the thrown legally, raised his followers and began to set forth to overthrow the Kingdom.
King Asgare brought together his people as an army of the people, 12,000,000 in all. They were each called to disrupt the daily services of the King's departments. Storming capitol buildings, raiding ground-based military installations. Even rioting at the main spacestation orbiting the planet. Though the 12 million were but a small percentage of the population, this sudden uprising caused a mssive lock-down in governmental power. Martial law was declared in certain areas of the Kingdom, while King Antaires himself took a large assortment of his "Soldiers" to the grand Palace. There, he confronted the King's guard, and was soundly defeated. Antaires was captured, and without a structure of command, or even a real base of reasoning, the riots, raids, and all other operations ceased. 346,000 of the dissidents were killed in the end.
King Neuroth issued a decree, which offered the dissidents immunity if they simply swore an oath of allegiance once again to Him. Over half did so, this proved only that the dissidents were weak, their resolve was nothing under the power of even an ailing thrown. Those who stood by their self-proclaimed ruler were arrested, and put on trial as a whole. King Antaires and his People were sentanced to exile, but of course, it would have been too hard to simply shove that many people onto one of the rim worlds on the outter-edges of the system. They were forced to sell their estates, all but their most personal belongings, everything. They were forced to pool their wealth together, and forfeit it to the Government. In return, they were given a fleet of ships, enough to carry them to their exile, not to a single planet, but, simply, to the stars.
400 ships were acquired by the loyalists, and boarded their ships, forever leaving their homeworld...
This is where he began to become too illegible to discern, his tears by now had swollen his face, and he had became a mess of a man. After I had calmed him, we spoke no more of the matter, we carried on to other stories of old, and spoke of things which did not tear his heart so much. After that encounter, I understood why King Antaires was so secretive about the past, about our reason for being on these old ships. He was a false King, but he was a true leader, and believed in his cause. Now it was not a cause to become a King, for he had already done so, in his people's eyes. Now, it was to find a new home amongst the stars.
So, with this new enlightenment, I close this little book of mine, I hope that this is not the only written acocunt of our beginnings...I hope..."
King Sæter Antaires sat quietly in the captain's chair of the "Steorra", the flagship of the so-called "Waylay Fleet." He thought broadly to himself as he read over the 'Nargrethian Annotations', as he had many times before. He could nearly recite it word for word by now, but he could not keep from reading it "just one more time." He did not know the person who wrote the book, he did not even try to seek him, becuase that was over 8 generations ago. He held in his hands the only known written record of his people's beginnings, and when he thought about it, the author's time was much simpler.
By the time King Sæter Antaires took the unglorious thrown, 85 ships had been lost in the travels. Most due to navigational errors, as the vessels slipped through in the process of space-fold. Some losses were due to reactor failure, ancient powerplants exploding. The only thing the fleet could do was save those who survived, pull the bodies from the wreckage and salvage what their dead hands clung to. Despite the tragedy of such events, it turned the crews into very profecient salvagers, they needed every part, every piece of scrap for the repair and rebuild of the ships that survived.
Now though, the long travels of the Nargrethians was hopefully over. The last projected Space-Fold jump had ended with success a few days ago. Surprisingly, it had ended with complete success, every ship arrived right on time, from the massive Warcruisers, with the Steorra ahead of the pack, to the slothful, yet vitally important Ore Refinery and Manufacturing ships. The large fleet was not running on subspace drivers, drawing ever nearer to the sun that the fleet had been steering to for so long. Half of King Sæter Antaires's 38 years was spent venturing to this system, and finally, he was upon it.
Sæter Antaires closed the book and stood up from the captain's chair and took a prideful stride across the half-deck that overlooked the cavernous and expansive control quarters of the Steorra. The crew's moral was especially high, for good reason, their journey was about to end, at least they hoped...
Sæter Antaires's breif moment of awe was momentarily taken away, as he heard the fimiliar voice of the commander of the Fleet, Reston Seft.
"Your Highness, we have reached our grid coordinates, the rest of the fleet shall be with us in the next few hours...that sun is beautiful, isn't it?" Commander Seft said randomly, as they both admired the glaring and bright sun, which filled the viewport that stretched across the control decks.
"...yes, yes it is, Commander. Beginning short and long-range scans, send out a hailing signal on all frequencies. We shall stay in this position for the next few days, see what happened. Scan specifically for asteroid fields and other areas of salvagable resources. Also, prepare the probes." Sæter, always hiding his feelings of optimism with great attention to detail. He hoped desperately that things would go well, that fi there were any intelligent forms in this sector, they would recieve their signals. Though another par tof him hoped that there wasn't anything out there, but ghost signals and solar wind.
The Steorra, and several other ships in the contengent began discharging probes, some were compact metallic balls, that simply shoved off into a falt trajectory, emitting signals as it went. Others were much more complex, though outdated, much of the systems the fleet used were ancient, but what could be improved upon, was. There was no better proving grounds than field testing. The Mk.II Sector Probe was designed for the mission of finding recourses for the Mining ships to collect from.
The Mk. II Probes were basically small sensor arrays fitted onto scavanged directional control engines, which came from the more unfortunate vessels. They networked together and transmitted a very complete picture of the layout of a sector.
Now all there was to do, was sit, and wait for the rest of the fleet...and of course, the probes to return their information...hopefully...