Starfarer's Main Game

The Serranids

Turn: 4.2

Onboard the Ark of the Uniter

The viewing bubbles were retracted and shut tightly for the final approach to the nebula sun. The water started to heat to an uncomfortable temperature as what few crew members the ship had programmed the ship to conduct a Leyland Whip Manoeuvre to catapult them into the secondary system. This star had been a bust - the nebula was too thick to discover any planets, let alone a new home. At least it wasn't much of a detour, thanks to the Leyland Whip.

"Your attention please - everybody is to move to the assembly podule, which will be sealed and refrigerated momentarily as we complete our manoeuvre." came the soothing voice of Governor Cobia over the public address system. It was trying, discovering the damage to the communications system and the impossibility of getting the passengers down quickly. Only a handful were experienced spacers, used to the confines of suspended water bodies. She was one of them. The rest of the colonists, however, were tired, and scared of the enforced confinement that had not been there back on Serranida. It was her job to keep them calm.

"You may experience some acceleration as we undergo our passage past the sun. Our cameras are recording as I speak, and you will be able to view it while waiting." Cobia pushed back the PA lever and started swimming for the control centre to check on the other municipal workers. It was very lucky that they were on the first colony ship - rudimentary though it was, the buzz had meant that a lot of unnecessary luxuries were available on board, and they did wonders for morale.

Outside, the plates closed tight, and the ship began its drop dangerously close to the sun, accelerating all the way. Fear rose in the hearts of all onboard while the camera dimmed itself frantically to try and compensate for the light and heat, and the Ark of the Uniter seemed to skim across the burning gases. It didn't, of course - that was simply suicidal - but it did speed up immensely, pulled into a half-orbit around the giant. Eventually just when the ship seemed as though it was finally going to fall right in, the plates gave an almighty pound and the ship rocketed away far faster than it had ever gone before.

It hurtled through space towards the second planet, not so much as moving a plate as it hit the planet's orbital radius to scan it more fully.

"Commander, we're getting some bad readings. Temperatures are rising faster than our data predicted and sensors have detected a firestorm, the colony will be shortly bombarded by flaming debris. We can shield the main facility but we will need to siphon power and coolant from the mining equipment to shield us or risk structural integrity; I need your authorization..." The engineer relayed from the ground site to the communications officer.

Commander Styke stood from his chair, he knew the actions he would need to take would regrettably cost the lives of those under his command. "Make it so. Order a complete evacuation of the mining corps once they have finished securing their current support frames."

"And the ground team sir?" The communications officer asked knowing they were too far below and would likely be out of contact.

"We can only hope Stoks team and the mining corps training is enough to save them. We must save those we can now though, reroute power and coolant immediately." The commander added moving over to the consul next to the communications officer.

"Yes sir," He added punching buttons. "Attention, Engineering. You are a go for worker evacuation procedures, have all workers finish their current duties and return to base."

"This is engineering, the shields are down over the side of the mountain from the power reroute, its a mess out here. The firestorm and debris are causing mild flaming rock slides, our communications aren't working we're sending in a team by cart to inform the workers of evacuation." The foreman added releasing his hand from the comm link. "Alright! Styr, Sto, Stin get moving!"

"Sir!" They replied as one hopped into the mining cart to disengage the breaks and the other two started pushing to give him momentum since the power to the tracks was being rerouted and their carts didnt have internal power supplies. Styr pulled in his two coworkers as they ran alongside and they crouched in waiting as they picked up speed. As they passed the first group of workers Sto jumped overboard and rolled to a stop, not noticing a crack forming on his helmets visor. Stin unfortunately mistimed his jump and landed his shoulder into a weak point in the rock that began releasing steam boiling him in his suite. Seeing this Styr took half the workforce he was assigned to evacuate and began work with the remaining material below to block off that exhaust as it would prevent a majority of the workers from below from escaping as the five he sent back pushed the now empty cart back along the track so that it wouldn't be an obstruction.

Styr put on the breaks as he neared the final groups and called out. "Finish with the supports and evacuate immediately afterwords, inform the other workers below; I need to inform the drill crew, how far down are they!?" He asked releasing the break as the cart slowly began to creak forward once again.

"Only a few minutes, they couldn't have gotten far sir. I'll handle evacuation of the workers, save the soldiers!" He added with a salute proud of his peoples heritage before he began signaling the workers to head up and ran by the cart giving it one last push until it was moving faster then him again.

"Mechanic! Check the power couplings and the coolant line!" The foreman yelled over the drill. "This things overheating and we're switching over to internal power! At this rate all the wiring for eternal powers gonna melt! Kill it!" He added as they slowed to a halt and let the mechanic work. It was at this moment Stok knew something was likely wrong.

"Private, what are your readings?" Stok asked his tech specialist.

"Im not getting a reading on power or coolant either sir, there's either a horrible kink in the line, a break, or commands cut our flow... Heat's rising too, it's more likely they've cut the power and coolant, if we were in the shielding it'd likely stay level."

"Alright, we wont survive more then an hour at best and if we do there's no way we'll survive when the sun hits this side of the planet and raises the temperature a couple hundred degree's. We're evacuating, double time!" He added getting out of the cart.

"Sargent, need I remind you that im in charge here until you reach your destination. I decide if this operation is bust or not and I say it's still likely we can fix this drill, isn't that right mechanic?" He asks turning around as the soldiers who were facing that direction suddenly throw themselves to the ground. The engineer fixing the drill manages one shocked expression and part of a scream before the drill explodes and envelopes him in fire. The foreman's helmet is pierced and his suite begins to depressurize and he slumps against the tunnels wall and slowly slips into a state of unconsciousness. The rest of the crew is in disarray and some are wounded but their suits are stable.

"I am taking command of this operation now!" Stok orders in a commanding tone. "Get the wounded in the cart, you two come with me." He adds to two uninjured miners as the soldiers begin putting the wounded into the cart.

"Sir, that cart wont go back up without power and if you push us it'll take longer then walking; I suggest that you leave us behind and save yourselves." He adds in a respectful tone.

"I'll take that as shell shock and not insubordination worker, now tell me. Can you salvage that internal power source the foreman was talking about?" He adds motioning to the back of the vehicle that was still relatively in tact.

"Yes, but... I see where you're going sir, but we dont have the appropriate wiring to rig something like~" He was about to say at Stok snapped his rifle over his leg and began gutting some materials.

"You let me worry about that, just get that battery." He added calling for his men who were not busy to throw him their rifles, he had more experience then any of them in dismantling and assembling their weaponry and could likely work as fast as two of them together. As the workers progressed feverishly on the battery and Stok and his soldiers began twisting and working the wire to power the cart on the battery they heard the loud breaking of another cart heading towards them. "Stop that cart!" Stok called out as a few of his men rushed down the track and braced against the slowing vehicle. Two of them nearly dislocated their arms as they were knocked aside and the one remaining soldier dug in his heels and was pinched slightly between the two carts. Two of his ribs were cracked before they could get him free from the cart but the injured were protected.

"It's a full evacuation sir," Styr added and looked almost surprised as the remains of a weapon were raised at him and he heard a click of the trigger as it failed to fire due to being gutted.

"...We had ascertained that worker, now you've injured three of my soldiers." A crime punishable by death. "This escape is going to be even more difficult now, however since I cant execute you now for injuring my men you may yet earn exemption... This cart may be just what we need, help hook up the two carts with a spare pin, men load the injured soldiers into the second cart. Hows that battery coming!?" He called back.

"Two more minutes sir, the fire's spreading!" One of them called flinching from the flame.

". . .Here, you know wiring right?" He added shoving the wires he had worked together into the hands of Styr.

"Yes but why?" He asked.

"Cause we don't have two minutes," He added looking at his communication band and the watch-timer he had set earlier when this had all started before rushing over to the drill as he moved the two workers aside and grabbed the hot battery with his armored hands and began to pull it free.

"Sir no! Your suits not insulated properly~" The workers added unable to stop him as he finished the job in a few seconds and quickly hurried over setting the battery on the edge of the two carts without a word.

He jerked for a moment and realized his gloves and most likely hands had been fused to the batteries side. "I cant disengage my gloves. There's too many of us now anyway. Use the last working rifles and shoot my arms off so you can go..."

"Sir if anyone should stay behind it should be me," Styr added for a moment.

"Dont you think I know that... No. Even if I make it back, i'll lose these hands. I'll be sent home, honorably discharged. If im lucky i'll be reprocessed for nutrients for the other clones, if im unlucky they'll give me prosthetic's and demote me to the working caste. I request you let me die with honor!" He adds impassioned as two of the soldiers power up their rifles for most likely the only shot they'll get before they overheat in this environment. With a loud blast that echoes through the tunnels all the way to the surface Stoks arms are ripped from the sockets and he stumbles to the ground. "It may not be in battle, but my death had meaning... I'd salute you, but..." He adds fidgeting from side to side for a moment.

Styr did not have the stomach of a warrior and could not face Stoks sacrifice and quickly went to work wiring the carts into the battery before shifting the lever to move to the surface. All Terrans able saluted his sacrifice as they slowly climbed away and began to build up speed. The steam leak had long since passed and the workers were all out by the time the ground teams cart came whizzing back towards the surface, nearly crushed by falling debris several times during the last stretch as they crashed into the barricade almost violently. Thankfully injuries from that crash were minimal and with the hasty response from engineering they were able to get the workers and the soldiers to sick bay.

Once everyone was treated and the colony safe there was of course an inquiry. Styr was not executed and allowed to keep his post due to the merit of his actions in saving the lives of several soldiers. Stok's remains would be retrieved later and he would be added to this colonies casualties memorial with full honors. Little did they know but command would catch wind of this story and Stok would be a new poster child of the Sontaran colonist age, a hero to all freshly hatched clones everywhere especially on fiery worlds like this.

Gah, lost post. Quick one this time, since there's not that much time to wait to write a longer one. Will rewrite tomorrow if there's time.

The Serranids

Turn: 4.2

Serranida Orbit

The second was always a tragedy; The first enjoyed all the pomp and circumstance, all the public attention, but the second, no, the second fell practically to the wayside. Not so much as a name was bestowed upon it. Even Fisshan seemed disinterested, political machinations having seen to it that the next colony would not be another distant star, as planned, but a nearby planet far out on the outskirts of the system.

Resource pressures had taken their toll, and the elders insisted on tapping into fresh sources of fuel and minerals before further expansion could go through; A cargo of restrained workers arrived by surprise one rocket along with a well armed officer, who very gently informed the station staff that command had ordered the immediate launch of the vessel to establish the Outer Serranida Mining Colony.

Turn 4.1, Resonance.

The door slid open and Michaël stepped inside.

"You wanted to see me, sir?"

The man sitting at the desk looked aged. A feat that wasn't impossible for an HED, but was also needlessly complicated to maintain. His white hair tied into a ponytail and his trimmed beard indicators of a man who took great care of himself. Or perhaps that was what he wanted others to think. That wasn't a very alien concept to the Heightened.


Kightlinger was always one to carefully plan ahead a meeting. He regarded Michaël with a hint of jealousy. Brand new model, brand new skin cells. It was interesting how older models actually adopted human signs of aging and the newer ones didn't. Getting up from the desk and taking a few steps towards Michaël. Kightlinger's eyes narrowed. Looking somehow concerned, he raised one eyebrow in consideration. Eventually, his eyes opening slightly, an infrared command was issued out. It made a part of the wall slide in, revealing a map of their planet.

"You are being reassigned, Michaël."

"What?! No! I mean.. Sir! I have trained for this my entire life!"

"You're wasting your juice, Captain, you know you don't have the authority to decide otherwise. Tell me though, have you heard news of Amélie?"

Michaël paused, he wondered what kind of game Kightlinger was playing. Was this to make him jealous? To make him angry somehow? He had indeed received news of Amélie, and they were good. Better than he had imagined them to be, in fact. A new world was always going to be a fragile, uncertain thing in its first steps.

"Yes, I have. She's doing quite well."

"You think so. Now. But did you know, before?"

"If you mean to say whether I could accurately predict the success of the operation beforehand, I'd have to decline, sir."

"Exactly." His hand pointed towards the map of Resonance. "This planet wasn't always hospitable. We made it so. And unfortunately for us, the same goes for everything in this universe. I.R.I.S. was unwilling to satisfy my 'whimsical' demands, but it seems that Amélie has given them a report that has changed their minds."

Michaël wondered whether Amélie's report had been influenced by this man. It would have been simple enough. Unless she was more than aware of it. And she would have been, as well. The question was: Was she playing along with it, or was this guy being framed? And if the ship sank, was he going to sink with it? His mind calculated the probabilities of that happening, judging them to be at a fairly low level.

"... So. Now the Venturer has been assigned as an explorer vessel. The colony module is nearly ready and we will have another pilot to command it out onto its next objective, don't you worry. Your job is to make sure those planets we send them on are hospitable enough. You've been assigned to this new mission and we expect you to leave very soon. Any questions?"

"None, whatsoever. Sir."

"Very well. You're dismissed."

Turn 4.0, Conjecture

"Amélie, you should really go back inside. It's not safe out here."

Her co-pilot regarded her with mitigated concern. In one way, he looked worried for her, but otherwise looked more worried about his own safety. So very typical bravado. She nodded her head in his direction to make him realise she'd heard him before turning towards the landscape once more. Behind her, the sound of a closing door indicated she was alone once more.

It was beautiful. The pale, sparse grass, lit up to a lime color by the lightning in the sky. In the distance, enormous mountains profiled themselves against the horizon, spanning miles, almost as if it were containing the wrath of a furious, stormy god from obliterating what was left of this piece of land. Her intuition piped in, telling her that complete destruction by the storm was an unlikely scenario. Turning her back towards the land, she looked towards the huge dome of reinforced steel taking shape. It was insulated and grounded to divert the lightning away from the inhabitants. In the grass, dotting the landscape for kilometers wide around their compound were tall lightning rods to prevent most of the gruesome accidents. Being mostly mechanical had its disadvantages.

This whole mission was still an egg. An egg that would hatch soon enough. And she was its mother, in a way. Her good luck had held out for her until they had landed, and now she would need more than that to bring this project to fruition. She switched her augmented displays to her messages. Again, her inbox was full and several messages were in a 'waiting list'. Waiting for her to answer or delete some of the thousands of messages she'd received ever since landing. She had filtered them to highlight those coming from Michaël, but he had not replied yet. Maybe his message had been a front, and maybe she was being silly waiting for news from him. She'd never met him and felt that maybe she never would. Even if he was to command that other ship, he would end up at the head of a new world, or maybe even be killed in less fortunate circumstances. They would never meet. She would never know what kind of man he was.

She sighed. Getting up from her spot she slowly walked towards the compound. Up above, the skies were raging. They never stopped. Flying her colony ship down to the ground had been the most terrifying experience. And she had this feeling it wasn't over. Somewhere inside her, despite all the enthusiasm of the crew of the Settler, she felt down.


A message popped up.

Originally Posted by To Amélie; S/N: 0000859685
Hey Amélie, congrats.

Somehow, her circuitry warmed at the missive. It was short, but that was all she needed. Her steps became lighter. Her enthusiasm was reignited. She was going to do something about it. She was going to make it so that they would meet. That he wouldn't end up on a world before he even got to know her, and for that, she knew who to address.

Originally Posted by To Ad. Kightlinger; S/N: 0000000028

I have heard about your ordeal with I.R.I.S. and I believe I am able to put forward a summary that would support your claims.


Turn 4.4

'I cannot believe that actually worked!' Tribal Lord Vru thought to himself as he watched the news of the Alevero discovery trickle across his monitor. 'We shall have to remember Smiddleyu's little trick for the next time we have to scan a planet. Being able to resolve to such fine detail! I am glad the boy did not become a Technician!' Vru smiled as he sat back in his chair. His ship was abuzz with working Tekers, busy augmenting the Fanged Wonder with the latest in systems technology before they set out again. He realized it was mostly publicity for the masses, keep them energized and focused on the mission ahead. That was perfectly fine with him. Whether it was a well earned reward or a mere morale stunt, it meant more power for him and his tribe, and that was not something to scoff at.

The passage behind him hissed as another Teker flunky entered in to his majestic presence. It was not until the Teker was standing directly behind him that he even became consciously aware of the presence.

"Your pardons, milord, but I wish to speak with you."

Vru snarled in annoyance at the disturbance of his private revelry, and whirled to condemn the honorless dog. His snarl of annoyance became a growl of disgust when he found himself confronting the lowliest of all of God's children, a runt of the litter unlucky enough to have survived his stronger brothers' in the youth pens. "Begone, filth!" he roared, seeking to strike the miscreant with a vicious backhand, but the blow never landed. Instead the Runt slipped sideways before catching Vru's flailing arm in an impossibly strong grip. Not one of the nearby Tekers made any motion to help their fellow, but at the same time they did nothing to aid Vru, instead completely ignoring the situation as if it was not happening.

"I said I wished to speak with you, milord, not that I wished to be struck by you," Shorty scolded impatiently.

"Unhand me!" Vru ordered, wrenching his arm away. He rubbed his forearm gingerly, all too aware that it was likely to be bruised come the morning. But he had learned his lesson, and would at least hear the strange creature out before striking his blow in revenge.

"As you wish," Shorty said humbly, bowing low. "I have come only to ask a simple question. Have you ever wished to be free of the Shamans?"

Colonization confronts each race with new challenges they were not prepared for, who knows what else the universe has in store for them.

The era bonus continues (+3 Production and Construction value on all worlds and stations)

Current Development/Tech Level Limit: 2 (8 ranks)

Turn 4 has ended!, turn 5 has begun and will end 3 days from now! (barring the days the servers may be offline)

The ever expanding Shipyards had become a figurehead of imperial might and with it brought a new era of prosperity and advancement; and of course a new generations of soldiers. The Terran’s first colonies minor hiccups were vastly overshadowed in public light by the tales of heroics in the face of adversity and the warrior castes strength of will to persevere no matter the obstacle to bring glory to Sontar. And with this pride came the cry of expansion. Other soldiers and citizens wished to prove their mettle out there in the great beyond, on worlds both known and alien and so many volunteered their time to work on this behemoth of space port that required its own independent power station just to handle the massive increases in the production quotas. And with the landing of the fleet’s first Imperial Colonization vessel these docks received their first ship that would also be one of the first to launch. Containers by the truckloads were loaded onto this ship while experimental one man probes were readied and prepared to launch in unison when the colonization vessel was sent out to deliver desperately needed supplies to their colonists.
“This is command, you are cleared to launch.”
“Roger that command, lifting off in five, four, three, two, one~” The three vessels burst into the sky leaving three trails through the atmosphere that looked as if the sky had just been given a quick slash of a giants claw. “This is Captain Steel, we thank you for the escort. There should be another vessel launched soon after we dock with the colony according to the shipping manifests, command says they’re to join your exploration team so await their arrival in orbit. Do you copy?” The captain adds on open channels.
“Orders Received, Captain.” Came the same response from both vessels.
“Hail the colony, let them know we’re arriving on schedule and to have a crew ready to unload us.” Steel added to style.
“This is the imperial colonization vessel requesting an approach vector and runway.” They called from in orbit.
“Roger that, landing one is tied up with commercial traffic. Come in from the western sky at the following approach and we’ll secure you at Landing two.” Came a response from communications.
“Yor, im patching through the information to your terminal… Now.” Style added finishing one final key stroke.
“All right I’ve got it. Im going in,” He added as the ship tilted down and flew in. They thankfully landed relatively uneventfully and were soon towed into the shielded docks.
“Excellent work, Store I leave you in command while I disembark. Skull, you’re with me.” He added pressing a button on the floor with his foot as Skulls chair slowly rose back from the floor.
“Thank you sir,” He added with a salute. The two went down below and changed into environmentally shielded suites and weaponry. When the door finally opened Steel was greeted by a salute from the command structure in rank in file in front of the workers.
“Captain Steel, it’s an honor.” Said Styke.
“Likewise.” Steel added as they shook hands. “We have brought the new ‘Stok’ brand equipment from the capital so that operations can continue. We wasted no time in getting it to you; so please see to treating our ship with the appropriate hull insulation while we are in port.” He added respectfully.
“I’ll oversee it personally sir.” Styke answered.
“Excellent, now I believe your ground team will be in need of a commanding officer; I’ve already confirmed the assignment with Command central so ready my team to continue the dig.” He adds presenting some paperwork to Styke.
And as they talked and prepared the last one man vessel of the exploration team taxi'd and launched itself into space to join its brethren.

Turn 5.0

Turn 5.0


"I...I cannot believe it," Speaker of God Comuro muttered as he sank to his knees. Why did it not work? What could have gone wrong? Things had worked out for everyone else, from that damned captain and his crew to the Tekers who even now must be silently laughing at his folly. Had God abandoned him? Had he sinned, or erred against the great plan? 'No,' he thought, 'No, this cannot be. I have done everything that has been asked of me! I have led my people from that blasted planet and into space! I have made the Warriors heel, and the Technicians obey my every whim! I REFUSE to accept this!'

"You there!" he barked, pointing to one of the nearby Technicians. "I want this door opened as soon as possible! Do what ever it takes! We will be triumphant!"

The Morkin Shipyards

"How long are we going to have to wait here?" Tribal Speaker (just approved) Smiddleyu asked as he casually swatted a coordination ball back and forth across the ceiling. The child's game was meant less for a full grown adult then it was for a youth about to train for his first hunt, but Smiddleyu had always found it to be relatively soothing, and even helped his concentration when it came down to watching the sensors, even when there was nothing there to be seen.

"Till the Captain says otherwise, I suppose," Scout Cmio replied neutrally, trying not to give away his frustration at Smiddleyu's promotion. It wasn't fair, as far as he was concerned. He had been a Scout for far longer than Smiddleyu had been a Warder, and now the bastard had been elevated above him, all for what? Managing to draw a straight line across a map? It was pure nepotism, is what it was. Smiddleyu's father's cousin's uncle's adopted nephew was a Shaman, and it was obvious that he had pulled some strings. Why else would Speaker Comuro have personally signaled his congratulations?

"I just wish we had some news," Smiddleyu whined.

"Well, we do not, so just bite your tongue, ok?" Cmio snapped.

"What nir is biting you?" Smiddleyu asked caustically.

"Boyo, I do not want to hear anything else out of you, do I make that clear?" Cmio growled, forgetting for the moment that he was the lower ranked warrior. Smiddleyu was all too happy to remind him of that fact.

"Hey, you cannot talk to me like that!" Smiddleyu howled. "I am more important, the Speaker himself said so!"

"Oh, you think that is all it takes?" Cmio hissed. "Fine then, I challenge, for rank and for honor!"

"I accept!" Smiddleyu snarled back. "When and where?"

"Here and NOW!" Cmio roared as he leapt off his bunk, reaching for the younger Ulatarim's throat. He was larger, and had an extra six inches of reach. But Smiddleyu was quicker, and even though he was caught off guard he managed to roll away, landing a vicious snap kick to the back of Cmio's calf as he went by.

Cmio howled in pain, and turned to face his opponent. The two circled the tiny room slowly, claws held high and ready to strike as soon as the other made the first move. But while Smiddleyu had the speed and reflexes of the young, Cmio had the experiences of the older, and he had fought more than his fair share of faster opponents in his time. The trick was simply to take away their ability to move.

Cmio leapt again, and Smiddleyu twisted to avoid taking the blow - but he had miscalculated where Cmio was aiming. Instead of going for the face or chest like most other warriors would have, Cmio had aimed for Smiddleyu's knees, aiming to cripple the other fighter. All three hundred pounds of enraged muscle shoved Smiddleyu back against the low metal bar of a cot, and there was a loud SNAP! as both of his legs broke just above his ankle.

Smiddleyu let out a load, horrible shriek of pain as the bones ripped through his skin, spilling brownish blood onto the cot. Cmio was upon him in a moment, his claw posed above Smiddleyu's throat. "Yield!" he demanded.

"I...I yield," Smiddleyu managed to wheeze, just as the door to the room swooshed open.

"What in the name of God do you two idiots thing you are doing?" Tribal Lord Vru roared as he found the entangled fighters. "I come up here to tell you that there's been a change in schedule, and I find you two turned over like a pair of idiot youths in their first brawl? Cmio, get him to the medical bay immediately!"

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