Trailers
11-07-2007, 23:12
OOC: Why? Because I felt like it. You're welcome to nab a character I list in my little posts, or make one up of your own. They must be on the planet in question, and of the race and nationality the story is about. Other than that you can just run with it. I'll keep the scenario going and toss in some NPCs for fun. Just a dandy little way to kill off a few hundred million of my people's ancestors. Oh, you may wanna lay an OOC claim to a character before you just post, to avoid confusion.
IC:
This is not just a story. This was not war. This was not an atrocity commited by our enemies. This was an avoidable tradgedy, and this is a reminder, lest we forget those who went on before. The sacrifices of our ancestors that made us what we are now.
This, is survival.
A horrible event transpired six thousand eight hundred and fifty one cycles ago, on a small, out of the way planet that was one of our people's first experimental steps into the ocean of expanding dust and colliding particles we call the universe. This was before the time of commodoties you could not possibly imagine life, culture, or something simple like getting from point A to B without. This was before life-preservation cybernetics and synthetic alien organs were drilled, stuffed, and fused into you before you even exit your mothers womb. This is before atomic reorganization and scaler plants made for abundant food and energy. No Collectors squatted between us and our twin suns. The youngest, like you lot, were not taken on a little happy trip to one of our orbiting stardocks. Our moons had not been hollowed out and made into shipyards. The cables of the Met were just an idea in some engineers head. This planet was still being terraformed, in fact. You'll learn about that in a few years when some wiry little man with murky eyes and too many teeth fills your head with algorithms and scientific theory, pushing out more proper things like the history of your people.
I digress. Er..Where was I? Oh yes, no cables.
The travel between star systems only a few hundred lightyears apart took weeks, even months if further away. If you lived near one of our sprawling, inefficient fusion or fission plants, you were under the constant threat of either a meltdown, or your part of the city being turned into a shortlived star. Lets not forget the heinous diseases you could get from fission rods too close to your homestead, or a passing transport leaking reaction mass on your property or water supply.
Where the hell do you think you're going young man? Sit down. I'm getting to the point. This just explains why rescue was so long in coming. Ha. Got you interested now, eh? Yeah. Sit down.
In the old days, a colony fleet would reach a possibly hospitable planet, then orbit it for a few years while the various terraforming apparatuses reshaped the atmosphere so your skin wouldn't melt immediatly, but over a long period of time. The colony ships came with all the supplies the colony would need, not to mention supplies to erect habitats and the like. Farming implements, mining drills, anything a fledgling colony would need. It was quite often five or six years before the colonists would see a fresh ship, or even recieve word from home, since tight beam relay outposts would have to be strung along the route between the colonists and closest fully civilised planet. During this tinme of silence, there were very few safety measures in place. A colony ship didn't have room for lifeboats; it was titanic, yes, even modern ships barely rival it in size, but it was stuffed to the brim with everything it's inhabitantrs would need for the next ten years or so. One of the few things a colony fleet had in the event of an emergency was a small jumper frigate with a powerful, yet bulky communications array. Were something to go wrong with the colonial vessel, a few people would hop aboard the frigate, jump to the nearest relay, and send for help. Well, even after the vessel reached it's destination, this lifeboat was kept at ready in a bunker under one of the habitats, just in case. Now we're getting to our little tale's beginning, boys and girls.
The colony was named CTH-055-DMI aka, "Polatorus" seeing as it was a perfect galactic north of Trailica Prime. The terraformers had been scrapped for parts eight months ago, and people had moved to the planets surface, setting up habitats and going about basic colonial business. Everything was just dandy. Things got even dandier when, six months ahead of schedule, a governmental barge popped into the system and made touchdown on a landingpad fashioned from parts of the cannibalised colony ship. Several hundred scientists and more equipment than one would think necessary for "core samples" piled out. They had brought their own mini-habitat, and after having shown the colonial governor all the proper forms, contracts, and leases, they set up shop on an unused section of continent, far away from any of the larger habitats. Their arrival caused a little commotion at first. Everyone seemed to take this as a good sign, ships were coming in system years before they generally did. Well, gosh, before we know it, the communication lines will be up, and we'll be plugged into the Net. Things are just swell. This is where my great, great grandfather comes in...
IC:
This is not just a story. This was not war. This was not an atrocity commited by our enemies. This was an avoidable tradgedy, and this is a reminder, lest we forget those who went on before. The sacrifices of our ancestors that made us what we are now.
This, is survival.
A horrible event transpired six thousand eight hundred and fifty one cycles ago, on a small, out of the way planet that was one of our people's first experimental steps into the ocean of expanding dust and colliding particles we call the universe. This was before the time of commodoties you could not possibly imagine life, culture, or something simple like getting from point A to B without. This was before life-preservation cybernetics and synthetic alien organs were drilled, stuffed, and fused into you before you even exit your mothers womb. This is before atomic reorganization and scaler plants made for abundant food and energy. No Collectors squatted between us and our twin suns. The youngest, like you lot, were not taken on a little happy trip to one of our orbiting stardocks. Our moons had not been hollowed out and made into shipyards. The cables of the Met were just an idea in some engineers head. This planet was still being terraformed, in fact. You'll learn about that in a few years when some wiry little man with murky eyes and too many teeth fills your head with algorithms and scientific theory, pushing out more proper things like the history of your people.
I digress. Er..Where was I? Oh yes, no cables.
The travel between star systems only a few hundred lightyears apart took weeks, even months if further away. If you lived near one of our sprawling, inefficient fusion or fission plants, you were under the constant threat of either a meltdown, or your part of the city being turned into a shortlived star. Lets not forget the heinous diseases you could get from fission rods too close to your homestead, or a passing transport leaking reaction mass on your property or water supply.
Where the hell do you think you're going young man? Sit down. I'm getting to the point. This just explains why rescue was so long in coming. Ha. Got you interested now, eh? Yeah. Sit down.
In the old days, a colony fleet would reach a possibly hospitable planet, then orbit it for a few years while the various terraforming apparatuses reshaped the atmosphere so your skin wouldn't melt immediatly, but over a long period of time. The colony ships came with all the supplies the colony would need, not to mention supplies to erect habitats and the like. Farming implements, mining drills, anything a fledgling colony would need. It was quite often five or six years before the colonists would see a fresh ship, or even recieve word from home, since tight beam relay outposts would have to be strung along the route between the colonists and closest fully civilised planet. During this tinme of silence, there were very few safety measures in place. A colony ship didn't have room for lifeboats; it was titanic, yes, even modern ships barely rival it in size, but it was stuffed to the brim with everything it's inhabitantrs would need for the next ten years or so. One of the few things a colony fleet had in the event of an emergency was a small jumper frigate with a powerful, yet bulky communications array. Were something to go wrong with the colonial vessel, a few people would hop aboard the frigate, jump to the nearest relay, and send for help. Well, even after the vessel reached it's destination, this lifeboat was kept at ready in a bunker under one of the habitats, just in case. Now we're getting to our little tale's beginning, boys and girls.
The colony was named CTH-055-DMI aka, "Polatorus" seeing as it was a perfect galactic north of Trailica Prime. The terraformers had been scrapped for parts eight months ago, and people had moved to the planets surface, setting up habitats and going about basic colonial business. Everything was just dandy. Things got even dandier when, six months ahead of schedule, a governmental barge popped into the system and made touchdown on a landingpad fashioned from parts of the cannibalised colony ship. Several hundred scientists and more equipment than one would think necessary for "core samples" piled out. They had brought their own mini-habitat, and after having shown the colonial governor all the proper forms, contracts, and leases, they set up shop on an unused section of continent, far away from any of the larger habitats. Their arrival caused a little commotion at first. Everyone seemed to take this as a good sign, ships were coming in system years before they generally did. Well, gosh, before we know it, the communication lines will be up, and we'll be plugged into the Net. Things are just swell. This is where my great, great grandfather comes in...