[center][youtube][/youtube][/center] [h1][center][b]The Year 2245[/b][/center][/h1] The year is 2245. And humanity, by some miracle, has not yet blown itself into little bits just yet (though not for a lack of trying.) No, instead we have long since left our dying world in the mid-21st century. From there we spread ourselves out across the inner rim, then past the belt into Jovian space, and even there we did not stop. We pushed ourselves to the very edge of the TNR, verging on the Kuiper ring. We have made an empire to last the ages, forged it from blood, fire and sweat. The Imperium. The great hand stretching from the ice fields of Charon to the mysteries of Mercury. But it is all a lie. Power. Wealth. Influence. We live like rats. We think ourselves gods despite that we are sequestered upon the unnatural smog of our own, specially designed creations. We are a race of deception. Not just to others. Rather to ourselves. We outlawed the slavery of human beings, so we altered the human genome just slightly as to find a loophole. We affirmed democracy, but it is a democracy of the few. We built up towers, yet most live at their bases. We are, for all intents and purposes, sad little puppets on sad little strings. We all want to be real little boys and girls, and so we prance about, laughing, making merry, ignoring those binds. Ignoring them until they inevitably tug back. You see, the creation of life has long been seen as divine, though mankind deems itself worthy to be the judge and jury of existence. We created AIs, and then deleted them. We spliced homo sapien data, and then manipulated it for [i]our[/i] needs. [i]Our[/i] wants. [i]Our[/i] desires. This is not the future of stories. We are not the peace keepers of the galaxy, swinging about lightsabers or phazer beams. There is no biological life out there except for us. We. Are. Alone. And really, that is the saddest part of this whole tale. In Science fiction there are always the alien villains. The big bad guys who everyone rallies against and defeats through the power of teamwork and love and bloody friendship magic, ponies, rainbows and unicorns. Well guess what? There are none to be found. The movies lied to us; they said mankind was at its barest essence good. That is [i]wrong[/i]. Those big bad boogie men of space? We [i]created[/i] them because we [i]are[/i] them. So welcome to your dream kids! That big, bold, brave new world! Welcome to 2245 AD. [img]http://orig10.deviantart.net/c831/f/2012/267/a/5/a50a6dba92ce1a9701e2183230ce40ae-d5ft4ix.png[/img] [h1][center][b]Welcome[/b][/center][/h1] 2245 is a (pseudo-) realistic sci-fi setting set two centuries after the war that ended human life as we know it today. But that's not to say it ended humanity, far from it. America, the UK, China, Russia, these are all dusty empires no different from the Spanish Conquistadors or the French Napoleonic State you learn about in civics class. And they are viewed just the same: as failures. They were lead by idiots, they were full of glutinous prats and all they did was leave a mess for their progeny to clean up. It is the damning position of nations which sat idly by and let their world plunge into chaos. Maybe at the time it looked like a good idea, but hindsight is 20/20. This story isn't like most distopic novels you have undoubtedly read. It does not assert that mankind became caught up in its own power, or that we were mislead, or that somehow the past was better. It wasn't. Look around you. Do you think our world is perfect? As much as the Hunger Games and Divergent try and tell us that the present is some glorious Utopia, it's just not. Rather, if looking for inspiration, think about the Red Rising trilogy (novels which I took heavy influence from when building 2245.) The Atlantic is in a stage of decadence, just like the roman empire. Inevitably that lead to our decline and that of western society as a whole. And what came after that? The Imperium, which say what you will, is not evil. It isn't sending children mindlessly to their deaths for their entertainment, or trying to brainwash the population to their own nefarious ends, they just do what is necessary to ensure the unity of their governance. And now, after two centuries of office, they two have fallen into the decline of civilization. Bureaucratic mismanagement, corruption, personal interests. A second Jovian Conflict is close to rearing its ugly head and Beyonders from the TNR are growing ever more vicious. Corporations which line pockets from hydrogen extraction are beginning to wonder if they really need to abide by Imperium mercantile law. Unconfirmed Reports of a mutant strain of HKV-2 proliferate the Far-Rim. Labor uprisings break out across the Belt. The future of humanity is again in the silent peril of the early twenty first century. And all the while a similarly voiceless M4-Trade Hauler drifts through the black. The crew may not know it, yet one way or another they will decide the fate of humanity. Be it for the better… or the worse. [h1][b]All the Things the Dark can Hold[/b][/h1] [b](A [i]basic[/i] overview of possible player types, this is by no means an exhaustive or constrictive list.)[/b] [b]Humans:[/b] We are human -some more than others admittedly- and we are all the same conniving buffoons that we always have been. Though hey, two centuries isn't that long, who knows, maybe there is hope for us yet. [b]Spindleys:[/b] Ever hear about what zero-G does to someone’s body? Now imagine that progressed over three generations and you get the emaciated, sickly looking Spindleys, their bones and muscles so used to zero G they would likely snap like twigs should they ever return to Earth. Not that they intend to. Spindleys are the descendants of those locked on sleep ships, whose course was set to the unknown black, but awoke a century later with their future homes already colonized. Now they are the nomads of the solar system, ever moving, never to settle for long. [b]Spliceys:[/b] Human-spliced chimeras. Dont think anime, fox eared tear-drop faced cartoons, rather perhaps something along the lines of “The Fly” movie would give a better impression. These “creatures” as some deem them are still relatively rare and expensive, only acquired out of true necessity or an over bulging purse, yet what they might lack in pragmatism they make up for in versatility. Afterall, what better way is there to put the fear of God into rowdy otherworlders then set them face to face with a living-breathing monstrosity? One would be amazing what doors such could open in the halls of the politicos. [b]Gene-clones:[/b] Homo-Sapien-Varietas are slaves. There is no real dancing around the bush on that one. They might as well be human, but thanks to some crafty reorganization of genes they are not technically homo-sapien. They are different, and thus they are not legally people. Its nice how science provides such convenient loopholes for those who look hard enough. Yep, human ingenuity at its finest. [b]AI: [/b] Robots. They have no feelings. They are not people. Their programming tells them to believe this, and indeed, if robots can “believe” then maybe they do. But their processors also tell you that: "you think there fore you are.” A conundrum to be sure, because they do think. Maybe they think even more then their masters and their most apparently illogical solutions. “Alass to be or not to be, that is the question.” However their servers provide no clear answer. [b] Beyonders:[/b] Demons, nightmares, horrors from the black. We do not talk about Beyonders, and neither should you. [img]http://img00.deviantart.net/03ff/i/2015/233/3/1/cargo_ship_in_orbit_by_bradwright-d96k4e7.jpg[/img] [h1][b]Part of the Crew, Part of the Ship[/b][/h1] Name: Lassie ([i]yes, off that classic vid-tape, the Cap’s an eccentric fellow[/i]) Designation: M1-Trade Hauler, Reg Code 9T6P6-009UIAY Stats: -Current Crew: 57 crewmen on staff, no casualties or major dismemberments in the past month ([i]NEW RECORD![/i]) -Current Cargo Leger: 10 crates of Duro Sead, 40 Synth Fabricators, 20 Constructor-M AI, 2 Hydrogen Repurposers (can't wait to get rid of these bloody things), 10 tankards of purified H20 and 20([i].5[/i]) heads of Cattle ([i]one got stuck in the loading dock door the other day… results were not pleasant[/i]) -Current Escort: Tenth FR-mixed Infantry Squad ([i]what a load of Ion-charged dicks. All hail the Imperium, am I right?[/i]) -Current Position: Leaving Triton ([i]finally[/i]) -Current Destination: Iapetus -Other notes:Streven, if I catch you messing with the Data logs again I’ll castrate you and stick your pink balls so far up the Cap’s ass even your over zealous tongue won't be able to find’em -Zack Blucker signing off ([i]Oh please, you know you love me, Zack. *Kisses*. ; ) -Streven[/i]) -I am going to kill that kid. [img]http://img12.deviantart.net/24f8/i/2014/249/f/3/ship_in_hanger_by_bradwright-d7y4oi6.jpg[/img] [h1][b]The World Thus Far[/b][/h1] [url=https://docs.google.com/document/d/1gMx9OThFvqjWte1Ar1gLA_-EINwB61lcAB8z70gk580/edit?usp=sharing]Link to Google Doc[/url], this may take a moment to load due to the ammount of pages, be patient [h1][b]And Now...[/b][/h1] So, with that all out of the way, what are your thoughts? Feel free to post bellow and thank you for your time.