◤“To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.”
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[OOC] Redshift Blues
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- GM Tlaloc Co-GM TokyoPewPew
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Zeroth
— Alfred, Lord Tennyson
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The stars are divided, three powers locked in a cold war of sabotage and privateering. In this fragile balance, the Dullahan embarks with a new crew and a Centaurian M.A.R.Q. license — free to raid, trade, and gamble on survival in the Bloc Crisis — hunting fortune in the cracks between empires.
ᴛɪᴍᴇʟɪɴᴇ ● ꜰᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ● ɴᴏᴛᴀʙʟᴇ ʟᴏᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ● ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʜɪᴘ ● ɢʟᴏꜱꜱᴀʀʏ
ᴛɪᴍᴇʟɪɴᴇ ● ꜰᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ● ɴᴏᴛᴀʙʟᴇ ʟᴏᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ● ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʜɪᴘ ● ɢʟᴏꜱꜱᴀʀʏ
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ᴛɪᴍᴇʟɪɴᴇ
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| ● │ ├─ │ │ ├─ │ │ ├─ │ ├─ │ │ │ ├─ │ ├─ │ ├─ │ │ ├─ │ │ ├─ │ ├─ │ │ ├─ │ │ ├─ │ │ ├─ │ │ ├─ │ │ │ ├─ │ │ ├─ │ │ ├─ │ │ ├─ │ │ │ ├─ │ │ ├─ │ │ │ │ ├─ │ │ ├─ │ │ ├─ │ └─ | 4 February 2029 – Project 34 – Seventy nations form a multilateral coalition to settle Mars and coordinate off-world expansion. The agreement lays the groundwork for a unified planetary government, and is later renamed the ‘Sol Federation’. 2032 – AGI Breakthrough – Artificial general intelligence accelerates materials science, medicine, and propulsion research, compressing centuries of technological development into decades. 2034 – Argyre Station – The first permanent interplanetary research base is established on Mars. 2045 – Global Incorporation – The last independent Earth nation, Eritrea, is forcibly incorporated into the Sol Federation. This marks the beginning of a more authoritative pivot for the SF, which would, over the coming century, look like less of a force for international cooperation, and more of a corporate-funded empire. 2047 – Subspace Breakthrough – Subspace travel is achieved for the first time with prototype Transit Anchors. 2050 – Martian Autonomy – Mars achieves economic self-sufficiency and begins limited self-governance under the Federation. 2056 – The Charter of Anchors – The Sol Federation grants exclusive construction and maintenance rights for Transit Anchors to a consortium of megacorporations. 2 May 2060 – Horizon Day – Federation pathfinder convoys depart for Alpha Centauri, Epsilon Eridani, and Tau Ceti, flagged as potentially habitable systems. The annual Horizon Day holiday celebrates humanity’s leap to the stars. 2078 – FTL Integration – Transit Anchors open to private merchants, unleashing a boom in interplanetary trade and corporate power. 2085 – The Martian Accords – Mars negotiates a ‘Special Autonomy Zone,’ allowing local councils to tax Anchor traffic. Other colonies demand similar rights. 2089 – The Callisto Crisis – A high-profile corporate security massacre on the mining moon of Callisto sparks the first major colonial uprising. 14 April 2107 – Proxima Centauri Arrival – Pathfinders arrive in a new system for the first time in humanity’s history. The first intersystem Anchor construction begins at Proxima. 2108 – Avalon Settlement – Colony ships land on Proxima b, renamed Avalon, a naturally habitable world. Its breathable atmosphere and rich biosphere ignite a mass migration wave across the next decades. 2111 - Avalon Divergence – Colony leaders draft the Avalon Charter, establishing a hybrid government wherein three superintelligent AGIs—known as the Triarchs—are formally recognised as co-governors. These AGIs use Avalon’s rich biosphere to pioneer radical germline engineering, creating “lineages” optimized for different roles (pilots, scientists, envoys). 2122 – Helium-3 Crisis – After years of punitive tariffs on helium-3, a strike on Europa ends in a bloody crackdown by Sol security forces, radicalising the outer-system guilds. 2127 – Jovian Secession – Europa, Ganymede, and Callisto form the Jovian Commonwealth, citing economic exploitation, Anchor mismanagement, and Sol’s AGI statutes. 2127–Present – The Jovian Blockade – Sol Federation responds with sanctions and Anchor restrictions on the Jovians, hopeful to work towards reintegration. 2129 – α Cen Autonomy Act – In light of the continued perseverance of the independent Jovian Systems, and their own thriving biocities, the Triarchs of Avalon establish their own inter-system Anchor network. This act effectively severs Centauri economic dependence on the Sol Federation. 2129 – Europan Terraforming – Europa, the Jovian moon, celebrates the completion of humanity's first successful terraforming project. 2140s – The Decade of Progress – Avalon rapidly grows, openly defying Federation legislation in many of its practices. Its cities become showcases of biotech architecture and luminous energy grids, and its massive genetic engineer programs help to eradicate disease and expand lifespans over 200 years. Sol attempts to impose restrictions and inspections on Centauri operations, but are outwitted by the Triarchy, neutralising the effort without open conflict. 2168 – Magna Centauri – The Centauri colonies formally proclaim themselves a sovereign interstellar polity, recognised reluctantly by the Jovian Commonwealth but denounced by the Sol Federation. 2168-Present – The Bloc Crisis – With Centauri secession, the Sol Federation loses its remaining leverage over the Jovian Commonwealth. A cold war sparks between the three powers, with none willing to initiate open warfare. 14 September, 2177 – Arrival in Epsilon Eridani – Pathfinders arrive in Epsilon Eridani and begin construction of a Transit Anchor. 2178 – Present Day – The first Transit Anchor to the Epsilon Eridani system comes online. All three major powers take great interest in the pathfinders’ findings. |
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| ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴏʟ ꜰᴇᴅᴇʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ System: Sol Government: Bureaucratic federal state Homeworld: Earth Population: 16.2 billion Adjective: Solar The Sol Federation is the largest and most influential polity in the Solar System, governing from Earth and projecting its authority across much of human space. Outwardly it presents itself as a UN-style unifying force, a guardian of humanity that safeguards stability and peace. In practice, however, it is a deeply bureaucratic and often authoritarian system whose policies are heavily shaped by powerful private interests. Corporations are legally subject to the Federation’s legislation, yet their vast wealth grants them immense leverage behind the scenes, making them indispensable partners in governance. With Earth’s 14.2 billion inhabitants forming the overwhelming core of its population, the Federation’s culture and politics remain distinctly Earth-centric. Among citizens, attitudes vary widely: some are proud of the Federation’s legacy and advocate for reclaiming lost territories, while others are disillusioned or indifferent, preoccupied with the struggles of daily life in sprawling megacities strained by pollution and climate change. Militarily, the Federation commands by far the largest navy in the system: its fleet alone is greater than those of the Jovians and Centauri combined. However, the Federations lacks the Centauri’s genetic specialisation and the Jovians’ economic muscle, making raw numbers an imperfect advantage. To colonies and independents, the Federation is both resented and relied upon: seen as a distant, Earth-obsessed bureaucracy that enforces its will unevenly, yet also as the only power capable of protecting them from piracy and crime. Ideologically, the Federation does not enforce a singular creed; its citizens span atheism, traditional Earth religions, and new sects, reflecting a vast diversity. In the present crisis, the Federation retains the manpower and resources to reassert control, but its leadership hesitates. Many fear that open war would devastate economies, unleash weapons of mass destruction, and destabilize humanity's fragile balance. This caution has bred unease among mid-level officials who worry that inaction will embolden rivals, threatening to erode the Federation's dominance from within and without. | ____________________________________________________________________________ |
| ᴛʜᴇ ᴊᴏᴠɪᴀɴ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴏɴᴡᴇᴀʟᴛʜ System: Sol Government: Corporate oligarchy Homeworld: Europa Population: 2.8 billion Adjective: Jovian The Jovian Commonwealth is a corporate-dominated state centered on the moons of Jupiter, formed after secession from the Sol Federation in the wake of mounting disputes over regulation and governance. Its political structure is highly plutocratic: the largest industrial and financial conglomerates effectively dictate policy, while smaller firms compete for influence within a loose commonwealth framework. Economically, Jovian space has flourished by rejecting the Federation’s restrictive oversight, attracting corporations eager for freer markets and lower compliance costs. The Commonwealth’s industries are diverse, ranging from helium-3 extraction and ice mining in the outer moons, to heavy manufacturing and ship construction in sprawling orbital yards, to finance and speculative trade. This breadth of commerce has given the Jovians immense economic influence, despite ongoing Federation sanctions. The Jovians maintain formidable security by contracting powerful private armies and fleets, paid handsomely to ensure loyalty and suppress threats. Public law enforcement is minimal, with Jovian settlements often described as the most dangerous in ‘civilized’ space for commoners. Nonetheless, they are hubs of opportunity, drawing those willing to risk hardship for the promise of wealth. Relations with the Sol Federation remain tense. Officially, the two powers remain locked in a cold rivalry, with the Federation imposing sanctions and restrictions since the secession. Yet in practice, corporate interests ensure that trade and covert cooperation continue across factional lines. To outsiders, the Commonwealth’s image is polarized: liberals and Federation loyalists denounce it as ruthless, exploitative, and corrupt, while free-market advocates and ambitious entrepreneurs hail it as a haven for capitalism unchained. Today, the Jovians pursue a cautious strategy, avoiding open war with the Federation while consolidating their influence across the system through incremental expansion and economic leverage. | ____________________________________________________________________________ |
| ᴍᴀɢɴᴀ ᴄᴇɴᴛᴀᴜʀɪ System: Alpha Centauri Government: Federal republic Homeworld: Argus Population: 0.7 billion Adjective: Centaurian Magna Centauri is the youngest of the three great powers, yet it has quickly become the most alluring. Centered on Argus, a lush and carefully governed exoplanet in the Proxima Centauri system, Magna Centauri is ruled by the Triarchy: three purpose-built superintelligent AGIs that form its executive authority. Beneath them, a federal republic grants settlements and regions a degree of local autonomy. The republic markets itself as near-utopian, boasting the cleanest and most pleasant environment in human space, in stark contrast to Earth’s pollution and decay. Argus itself is widely considered the most desirable world to live on, its prosperity sustained by careful ecological stewardship and an abundance of untapped resources. Self-sufficient and relatively isolationist, Magna Centauri maintains minimal trade with the Sol Federation, preferring economic ties with the Jovians. Genetic engineering is widespread within Centauri society, producing a population optimised for efficiency, health, and aptitude. While widely admired by its citizens, outside critics condemn these practices as eugenics. Careers are typically assigned at birth, with strong incentives for state-directed pairings to ensure desirable offspring, drawing concerns of authoritarianism among detractors. Personal freedoms exist but are balanced against rigid societal non-negotiables, violations of which result in exile. Culturally, Centauri society is regimented yet idealistic, with splinter faiths and esoteric traditions flourishing alongside a renewed reverence for nature. The Republic’s military, though smaller than the Sol Federation’s, is far more efficient on a per-soldier basis. With rigorous training, genetically superior soldiers, and high standards of leadership, the Centauri armed forces are often regarded as the most effective in combat. Additionally, each successive generation narrows the populace gap with the Federation, and their confidence grows with it. To outsiders, Magna Centauri is both inspiring and unnerving: it is a society of remarkable prosperity and vision, yet built on authoritarian foundations, and genetic determinism. Many Centaurians regard Sol and its colonies as dystopian failures and see themselves as humanity’s true future; superior, refined, and destined to surpass their rivals. | ____________________________________________________________________________ |
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ɴᴏᴛᴀʙʟᴇ ʟᴏᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ
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| ᴍᴇʀᴄᴜʀʏ System: Sol Type: Planet Population: 1.2 billion Capital: Roerich (South Pole), Stieglitz (North Pole) Adjective: Mercurian Affiliation: Sol Federation Once dismissed as a scorched rock too close to the Sun, Mercury now stands as the Sol Federation's first terraforming triumph, reaching completion before the long-awaited Mars. By shielding it from solar wind and reigniting its magnetosphere, engineers gave the planet the ability to hold a breathable atmosphere. Water delivered by redirected impactors and albedo-boosting dust cooled its surface, while the poles blossomed into temperate, habitable zones. Today, Mercury's dense, thriving populations cluster in these polar regions, while mines and solar arrays elsewhere on the planet fuel Sol industry. | ____________________________________________________________________________ |
| ᴠᴇɴᴜꜱ System: Sol Type: Planet Population: 8.3 million Capital: V52K-1 Adjective: Venusian Affiliation: Sol Federation With an uninhabitable surface, Venus became the Sol Federation's de facto dumping ground, its crushing atmosphere and toxic clouds making it an ideal landfill. Due to the surface's inhospitable nature, several salvage sky-cities hang in the upper atmosphere: corporate-owned hubs where scrappers and opportunists sift through endless refuse. Life here is dangerous and unglamorous, but nonetheless regulated, with Federation monitors and corporate enforcers keeping some semblance of order. The surface is a lethal wasteland of corrosive storms and collapsing debris, yet fortune still tempts the desperate. | ____________________________________________________________________________ |
| ᴇᴀʀᴛʜ System: Sol Type: Planet Population: 14.2 billion Capital: London (Executive), Lagos (Legislative), Tokyo (Judicial) Adjective: Terrestrial Affiliation: Sol Federation The cradle of humanity and seat of the Sol Federation, Earth remains comfortably the most populous world, dominated by vast, smog-choked megacities. Governed firmly by the Federation bureaucracy, it is their strongest bastion; though corporations still wield influence behind the scenes. Climate collapse has been somewhat curbed by vast geoengineering projects, which paper over the cracks enough to retain a liveable atmosphere. To colonists, Earth is paradoxically revered as humanity’s birthplace, and resented as a bloated, outdated core, steeped in conservative traditions while the stars move on in progress. | ____________________________________________________________________________ |
| ʟᴜɴᴀ System: Sol Type: Moon (Earth) Population: <1 million Capital: Luna-1 Adjective: Lunar Affiliation: Sol Federation Earth's only natural satellite is less a colony than a fortress-gateway. With nominal civilian presence, Luna is dominated by military bases, research facilities, and vast shipyards that serve as the Sol Federation's orbital backbone. The Luna-1 military base is the largest in the known galaxy. Elsewhere, scattered stations and domes host scientists and security staff. With heavy surveillance and the Federation's most elite forces on constant watch, Luna is considered the safest place in the system by many; fortified and indispensable to Sol's hold on the inner system. | ____________________________________________________________________________ |
| ᴍᴀʀꜱ System: Sol Type: Planet Population: 1.5 billion Capital: Tharsis Adjective: Martian Affiliation: Sol Federation Humanity's first great colony and the Sol Federation's largest beyond Earth, Mars has been a hotspot for human progress for over a century. The planet is a work in progress: vast domes and subterranean cities sustain life as terraforming slowly reshapes its surface into a habitable world. Industry thrives under strict environmental limits, while cultural blending over the past century has forged a unique, homogenous Martian identity, marrying Western and East-Asian traditions. Though granted limited autonomy under the Martian Accords, it remains firmly loyal to Sol. Mars enjoys a strong reputation as humanity's future heartworld, though doubts linger over whether its terraforming dream is losing steam. | ____________________________________________________________________________ |
| ᴇᴜʀᴏᴘᴀ System: Sol Type: Moon (Jupiter) Population: 2.0 billion Capital: Galileo Adjective: Europan Affiliation: Jovian Commonwealth The crown jewel of the Jovian Commonwealth, Europa was humanity's first fully terraformed world: its vast ice shell melted with orbital mirrors and fusion drills, releasing a global ocean that now stretches across the moon. A true waterworld, it hosts over 2 billion residents in vast floating arcologies that bustle with trade and industry. Once a Federation colony, it now serves as the Commonwealth's capital, embodying its corporate-driven dynamism. Europans see themselves as fast-moving and ambitious, at home in crowded, industrial megacities that sprawl across oceans. To outsiders, Europa is both a marvel of human achievement and a symbol of Jovian defiance. | ____________________________________________________________________________ |
| ɢᴀɴʏᴍᴇᴅᴇ System: Sol Type: Moon (Jupiter) Population: 87.5 million Capital: Julius Adjective: Ganymedean Affiliation: Jovian Commonwealth The Jovian Commonwealth's current great terraforming project, Ganymede is a world undergoing a significant transformation. Io-imported greenhouse gases are seeded across the skies, thickening and warming the atmosphere. The process is slow, and the current population is confined to domed and subterranean habitats. Corporate syndicates dominate the effort, funding both industry and settlement in hopes of repeating Europa's success. It remains to be seen if Ganymede will be the next triumph in Jovian space, or a costly gamble doomed to limbo state. | ____________________________________________________________________________ |
| ᴄᴀʟʟɪꜱᴛᴏ System: Sol Type: Moon (Jupiter) Population: 224.2 million Capital: Valhalla Adjective: Callistoan Affiliation: Jovian Commonwealth The industrial heart of the Sol System, Callisto churns out most of the raw materials and manufactured goods that fuels the Jovian machine. Over 200 million residents live in domes and underground arcologies clustered around sprawling mines and factory estates. Life is harsh but stable: workers endure grimy conditions and low-quality living, yet wages, food, and shelter are guaranteed. Countless transients arrive seeking that security, trading comfort for survival. Callisto's reputation is one of drudgery and exploitation, but its output is indispensable. Where once goods were "Made in China," now they are proudly stamped "Made on Callisto." | ____________________________________________________________________________ |
| ᴇɴᴄᴇʟᴀᴅᴜꜱ System: Sol Type: Moon (Saturn) Population: 99.4 million Capital: Cassini Adjective: Enceladean Affiliation: Sol Federation A statement of Sol Federation ambition, Enceladus is midway through a major terraforming project modeled on Europa's success. By melting its ice shell and thickening its atmosphere, engineers are laying the groundwork for a habitable waterworld, while strict environmental limits aim to avoid the water pollution poisoning Europa. City-building is well underway, a mix of domed settlements and floating arcologies supporting a rapidly growing population. Though still a fledgling colony without a distinct culture, Enceladus carries high hopes: the promise of a clean, thriving world that might yet surpass Europa. | ____________________________________________________________________________ |
| ᴋᴜɪᴘᴇʀ ʙᴇʟᴛ System: Sol Type: Region Population: Apprx. 1-2 million Capital: Vanth Freeport Adjective: N/A Affiliation: Various (including Magna Centauri) On the far edge of Sol space, the Kuiper Belt is a lawless frontier of scattered habitats and drifting freeports, home to an ever-changing, though small, population. Its largest hub, Vanth Spaceport, is a den of smugglers, privateers, and prospectors, and carries with it echoes of Earth's Tortuga. Life in the Belt is precarious; opportunity is balanced against danger, with fortunes made and lost in the blink of an eye. While officially within Sol Federation territory, control is tenuous at best. Magna Centauri maintains several outposts in the region, quietly building its own lifelines back to Sol and fueling tension in this volatile borderland. | ____________________________________________________________________________ |
| ᴀᴠᴀʟᴏɴ System: Proxima Centauri Type: Planet Population: 624.2 million Capital: Prydwen Adjective: Avalonian Affiliation: Magna Centauri The heart of Magna Centauri, Avalon is an astonishing rarity among the stars: a naturally habitable world with a rich biosphere and vast reserves of untapped resources. Its cities are settled among forests and oceans, blending human architecture with the strange beauty of alien flora and fauna (though none that rival humanity's intellect). Under the guidance of the Triarchy, Avalon has become a showcase of genetic engineering, disease eradication, and lifespan extension. To many, it is paradise, the clean and bountiful world Earth could never be; to others, it is a beautiful prison. | ____________________________________________________________________________ |
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Tlaloc METAL FINGERS
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ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʜɪᴘ
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| ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴜʟʟᴀʜᴀɴ Manufacturer: Sol Federation Model: Remora-class armed courier* Crew: 12-15 Max Speed: 10% of lightspeed Armament: Twin dorsal turrets, forward missile launchers, ventral breaching bore, detachable upper-deck attack shuttle Status: Active corsair under Sol Federation marque The Dullahan is a unique, heavily modified* Remora-class armed courier originally constructed in Sol Federation shipyards and now operating as a licensed corsair. Built as a standard armoured courier roughly twenty years ago, the vessel was seized by pirates who heavily modified the vessel, outfitting it with a detachable upper deck capable of functioning as an independent attack shuttle, a ventral breaching bore for ship-to-ship boardings, and concealed compartments for smuggling. After a decade of service under raiders the ship was impounded by Jovian authorities and later sold at auction, where it was acquired by the current captain. Although outwardly weathered and rust-scarred, the Dullahan retains advanced engines, active missile launchers, and dual turrets, and is one of the smallest vessels equipped for Transit Anchor jumps. It carries quarters for a crew of up to fifteen, officer cabins, barracks, and secure holding cells, as well as a low-tech armored truck for surface operations. Now bearing a Sol Federation M.A.R.Q. license, the Dullahan operates along contested trade routes of the Bloc Crisis, balancing legal privateering contracts with the profitable opportunities of interstellar grey markets. | ____________________________________________________________________________   |
| Upper Deck 1. Bridge 2. Operations 3. Turret Access Middle Deck 4. Auxillary Controls 5. Missile Launchers 6. Main Lounge | Middle Deck (cont.) 7. Officer's Cabins 8. Crew Quarters 9. Galley 10. Restroom 11. Balcony 12. Escape Pods 13. Engineering 14. Airlock | Lower Deck 15. Secure Rooms 16. Lower Lounge 17. Med Bay 18. Breaching Bore 19. Cargo Hold A,B,C: connections between decks |
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This glossary collects spacer slang, technical jargon, and official terms that shape the setting. This list will be changed along with the addition of new terminology.
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ɢʟᴏꜱꜱᴀʀʏ
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This glossary collects spacer slang, technical jargon, and official terms that shape the setting. This list will be changed along with the addition of new terminology.
Key Terminology
- The Bloc Crisis
The current cold war (2168–present) between the Sol Federation, Jovian Commonwealth, and Magna Centauri. The Block is a common malapropism (as in 'Blockade') used by spacers. ("Work dried up since the Block started.") - Blocspace
Shorthand for politically controlled Anchor zones. ("Don’t fly Sol blocspace without clearance.") - Heliodollar (ħ)
The prevailing currency across the vast majority of human population. Introduced mid-21st century as a resource-backed currency pegged to helium-3, the backbone of fusion power and interplanetary propulsion. Often referred to by slang names such as helios, heelies, 3s, or moon rocks.- Chit
A biometric storage device used for quick transfer of heliodollars, similar to a credit card.
- Chit
- MARQ
Mercantile Authorization for Reprisal & Quarantine. Official licenses provided by major factions to legalise privateering with intent to disrupt rivals. "Flying under a Letter" is both badge of legitimacy and cover for piracy. - Pathfinder
Survey and exploration craft (often AGI-guided) that chart viable subspace geometries and seed new Anchor sites. - Subspace
An adjacent topology where interstellar distance is compressed. It cannot be traversed safely without paired Transit Anchors to shape and stabilise a corridor. Crossing time is effectively near-instant; delays come from queueing, alignment, and customs. Hazards include shear (turbulence in the corridor) and corridor collapse during misalignment. - Transit Anchor
A fixed installation that couples realspace to subspace and to a matching Anchor elsewhere, creating a temporary corridor. Transit Anchors are usually surrounded by exclusion zones where customs, inspections and tolling occurs.- Picket Fleet
A defensive screen of smaller ships around an Anchor to deter raids. - Skip / Burn
Interchangeable slang for a subspace FTL jump via Transit Anchor. - Wake
Residual subspace distortion left by a recent skip/burn. Useful for forensics and pursuit; degrades within minutes to hours depending on ship's mass.
- Picket Fleet
- UTC
Coordinated Universal Time +0, the standardised time zone used across Sol Blocspace for the purpose of working hours, including the Sunday - Saturday week system. Often used by spacers as a way of timekeeping. Likewise, most of humanity still adheres to the Gregorian calendar.
General Slang
- Exsol
Colloquial term used by Jovians to refer to former Sol Federatiton citizens who immigrate to the Jovian Commonwealth. - Fed
A pejorative abbreviation for Sol Federation loyalists, often implying blind obedience or puritanical behaviour.- Fedshit
A dismissive term for endless legal bureaucracy. Often used interchangeably with 'paperwork'.
- Fedshit
- Subop
Derived from suboptimal; a slang insult used by Centaurians against Sol System natives.
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Passable Writer Admirably Adequate
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Here for some space bucks.
Thanks!
Thanks!
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N3v3rM0r3 Cranky old Raven
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8 days ago
Oooh
I’m going to put myself down as very much interested. I’ll be on the discord as a reward for finishing stripping the paint off these cabinets 🙏.
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Tlaloc METAL FINGERS
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Things are taking shape. I suggest if there are any lurkers, to make yourself known ASAP. While we aren't closing applications, we're recieving a lot, so we may put a pause on them soon!
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icmasticc Abstract Theory
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I’ll say I’m interested in this. Still need to read over the rest of the OOC but I think I have a character concept in mind if it’s not too late to send one through.
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Tlaloc METAL FINGERS
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I’ll say I’m interested in this. Still need to read over the rest of the OOC but I think I have a character concept in mind if it’s not too late to send one through.
We're not actively accepting right now, but you are more than welcome to join the discord and share your ideas. It is probable that spots will open up in the future.
corneredbliss
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6 mos ago
Well, well, well, looky here! Hi there, stranger! @icmasticc
icmasticc Abstract Theory
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2 mos ago
Well, well, well, looky here! Hi there, stranger! @icmasticc
Hey Bliss, I see you're part of this wonderful looking RP. Nice OC!
<Snipped quote by icmasticc>
We're not actively accepting right now, but you are more than welcome to join the discord and share your ideas. It is probable that spots will open up in the future.
Aww, I was too late, but that’s okay. I’ll probably hop into the discord when I get some time after work today!
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Bork Struggle On
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Alright, well, gonna add to this post every so once in a while and edit it. Don't feel like sitting on it much longer so I can focus on responding to the next post.
2174, Luna, Sol Federation Military Installation Gamma-13
" All cy-sec personnel, please be informed that all running processes on servers will be terminated in 10 minutes. Please backup all work and inform your supervisor of any potential delays...."
Prepping before a dive was a pain in the ass. Her fingers were coiled together, shivering in the cold, as the technicians lathered her hair with conduction gel, scooping palms of it through the tangles of her straw-yellow hair. The back of her scalp briefly burns as they plug a wire connecting the wall of servers behind her into her occipital lobe. Her skin itched under the sync suit. She wants to rub a part of her back where the suit bunches up with her underwear but the clamps won't let her. She hasn't had anything to eat or drink for the last 24 hours. Her head feels like molten tar. She's sure that her lifespan's been shortened by at least 3 years with the non-stop dives she was pulling.
The pressurised air lock hisses, the ten-ton molybdenum alloy door winding open to reveal a wizened old woman. Her sleeves of her Sol Fed uniform are rolled up, a clipboard held in between her knobbled fingers. Her hair is clipped short on the sides.
"Jeez, Tara. You really kicked the hornet's nest with that stunt you pulled in the Belt week ago." The old woman clicks her tongue and eyes her with a look that she can't tell is either pity or derision. " Back in my day, divers didn't need to be babied like a fucking lab rat."
"Back in your day, you were still brute forcing your way through ICE like a thug, Morn." The barb is light, playful. Morn slaps her shoulder in return and her cyber-contacts turn red for a moment, warning messages skittering across her vision. A brief thought washes it away. Her mouth opens in time for one of the technies to fit a oblong stainless steel retainer. There's a tang of iron on her tongue as Morn crouches down, a frown on her face.
"But, jokes aside, your last dive was 18 hours. You nearly approaching the defrag limit and there's no telling what - "
"For fuck's sake, Morn, the sooner I get this job over with, the better it will be everyone. Besides, docs cleared me for duty-" The corners of Morn's mouth suddenly turn down, confusing Tara and then, she feels the reason drip down her sync suit. " Fuck."
A technician hurriedly comes over and drips a stinging clear liquid from an ampoule that makes her left eye water. Before they can wipe the splatter away, she sees the red and she knows Morn dos too. Morn leans down, placing the clipboard down on a steel tray table.
" Told you once before, kid. You'll only regret it once it's too late." Morn's eyes were close enough that Tara could see her pupil, jagged bolts of white sclera cutting into the iris. "We're going to try Beethoven this time instead of Mozart. Should modulate your neurotransmission enough to make the dive longer. Just enough to find what top brass wants."
The last of the prep is done as Morn finishes her talk. A technician comes over with a dive-helm, the bug-like lenses glittering in the harsh clinical light. She fits in on, the sound of her breathing becoming more audible.
" Alright. Enough chit chat." She gave a thumbs up to Morn. " Prep me for the frag."
"Alright, enough fucking around. You heard her!," Morn shouted with command. " Let's get those servers pumping! We got a job,people, and High Command wants to see results, not a bunch of jerk offs!"
memory_leak_section_1: a short redshift blues drabble
2174, Luna, Sol Federation Military Installation Gamma-13
" All cy-sec personnel, please be informed that all running processes on servers will be terminated in 10 minutes. Please backup all work and inform your supervisor of any potential delays...."
Prepping before a dive was a pain in the ass. Her fingers were coiled together, shivering in the cold, as the technicians lathered her hair with conduction gel, scooping palms of it through the tangles of her straw-yellow hair. The back of her scalp briefly burns as they plug a wire connecting the wall of servers behind her into her occipital lobe. Her skin itched under the sync suit. She wants to rub a part of her back where the suit bunches up with her underwear but the clamps won't let her. She hasn't had anything to eat or drink for the last 24 hours. Her head feels like molten tar. She's sure that her lifespan's been shortened by at least 3 years with the non-stop dives she was pulling.
The pressurised air lock hisses, the ten-ton molybdenum alloy door winding open to reveal a wizened old woman. Her sleeves of her Sol Fed uniform are rolled up, a clipboard held in between her knobbled fingers. Her hair is clipped short on the sides.
"Jeez, Tara. You really kicked the hornet's nest with that stunt you pulled in the Belt week ago." The old woman clicks her tongue and eyes her with a look that she can't tell is either pity or derision. " Back in my day, divers didn't need to be babied like a fucking lab rat."
"Back in your day, you were still brute forcing your way through ICE like a thug, Morn." The barb is light, playful. Morn slaps her shoulder in return and her cyber-contacts turn red for a moment, warning messages skittering across her vision. A brief thought washes it away. Her mouth opens in time for one of the technies to fit a oblong stainless steel retainer. There's a tang of iron on her tongue as Morn crouches down, a frown on her face.
"But, jokes aside, your last dive was 18 hours. You nearly approaching the defrag limit and there's no telling what - "
"For fuck's sake, Morn, the sooner I get this job over with, the better it will be everyone. Besides, docs cleared me for duty-" The corners of Morn's mouth suddenly turn down, confusing Tara and then, she feels the reason drip down her sync suit. " Fuck."
A technician hurriedly comes over and drips a stinging clear liquid from an ampoule that makes her left eye water. Before they can wipe the splatter away, she sees the red and she knows Morn dos too. Morn leans down, placing the clipboard down on a steel tray table.
" Told you once before, kid. You'll only regret it once it's too late." Morn's eyes were close enough that Tara could see her pupil, jagged bolts of white sclera cutting into the iris. "We're going to try Beethoven this time instead of Mozart. Should modulate your neurotransmission enough to make the dive longer. Just enough to find what top brass wants."
The last of the prep is done as Morn finishes her talk. A technician comes over with a dive-helm, the bug-like lenses glittering in the harsh clinical light. She fits in on, the sound of her breathing becoming more audible.
" Alright. Enough chit chat." She gave a thumbs up to Morn. " Prep me for the frag."
"Alright, enough fucking around. You heard her!," Morn shouted with command. " Let's get those servers pumping! We got a job,people, and High Command wants to see results, not a bunch of jerk offs!"
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