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In Reclamation 2 yrs ago Forum: 1x1 Roleplay
Ben blinked. Stunned, frozen.

On the screen in front of him were words that he knew could - probably would - get him killed. He had no idea what to do with that information.

He could come clean, talk to the partners, tell them he knew and swear himself to secrecy. Sign an NDA. Quietly leave the ring and retire to somewhere far out of the way. He wasn't a farmer or a pilot or an engineer, but he was clever. He could pick up the requisite skills, beg his way into a position working for room and board in the belts or on Mars or on a freighter... no, not a freighter. It had to be somewhere they could trust him not to leak the info, somewhere so distant and isolated that he would never run into anybody important, that he'd be hard to locate and harder to get to, away from everything and everyone he had ever known or loved. They'd allow him that, surely. He'd been a good worker, turned up on time, kept his head down and worked hard, had risen quickly in position. Maybe now that he had this sort of information, they'd even feel pressured to promote him, to accept him into the upper echelons of the company. But... but nobody knew about this apart from at the very top level, and to promote him to that tier would draw much more attention than if he just disappeared one day.

His thoughts raced. Detached, out-of-body, he noticed the mouse on the screen was shaking. Stared at the jiggling. It took him a moment to realise it was the quivering of his own hand. He was hyperventilating, dizzy. He'd always preferred the oldschool style of computer, a bit of good old WIMP, rather than more modern holographic or even touch-screen icon-based GUIs.

Fuck. Get it together, for fuck's sake! He was a prisoner in his own traitorous body. His mind screamed and his body sat, slumped, placidly. There wasn't time to sit here staring. Who knew where the information had come from, why it had been sent to him, whether it was intentional or accidental, or - and with this thought he let out a small mew of fear - that it had been tracked to him already. His own mind was now a piece of corporate intrigue. It didn't belong to him anymore. Every major player in New Saturn, from the corporations to the government to the media to the terrorists to everyone else would jack his head with experimental technology and worm around inside his mind until he was a gibbering husk for just a hint of what he now knew.

Ben was no longer a person. He was data. He was now guilty of a crime he had not committed, a plaything of courts with far more power than any actual judiciary, ones which acted as executioners first and judge and jury second. He felt wronged. He felt wrong. De-individualised.

He had to run. Thoughts of coming clean seemed abominably and stupidly naive in the face of his fear. A sluggish and lethargic calm finally came over him, his body enforcing the discipline his mind could not. He stood, downloaded the files to a small drive he kept on his person at all times containing his identity papers, and then deleted them from the computer. He burned the information out of it with the high-level security software provided by the firm to protect clients' interests. Then he smashed the computer. Dispassionately, he pulled out the power, tore off the front panel, and ripped the components to pieces with his hands, smashing them beneath his heel, murdering the information with a sort of passive ferocity. Deep down, he felt an aspect of fury that his life should end because of something so far out of his own control, and he channelled it into annihilating the machine that had brought that event to him. It was a little cathartic.

He walked out of the office, concealing his cut fingers in his pockets, eyes steadfastly forward. Don't run, don't move too quickly, someone might be about and can't make them suspicious, no, no...

He needed to get across-ring, lie low somewhere, and figure out what the actual fuck to do. He couldn't hail a taxi - it would require him to register his identity, and would thus be trackable. No, he needed something local, something off-grid (or, in other words, illegal), or at least an unexpected enough a mode of transport that they wouldn't think to check the databases for it for some time.

Ben remembered a mechanic's shop not too far from him, one of the few small businesses that survived in this area - one which had slowly been gentrified and was now home to high-flying tech, legal, and services-based corporations and a few of their most well-paid employees. But, people still needed their vehicles seen to, and so it had somehow survived on a good reputation and word of mouth.

He'd always been proud to go to work somewhere where there was actually a tree or two, a few small green spaces dedicated to public leisure, as opposed to poorer districts where homes and businesses and shops are tightly crammed into blocks of slate-grey metal and neon signage that stretch on for tens and tens of kilometres. Now he just felt depressed and frustrated that being stuck in this posh neighbourhood, where everything was quite above-board and classy, would probably ensure that he got caught and killed.

It was, pretty much, his only chance. Perhaps he could steal a vehicle, though it had been a long time since he had driven. He walked swiftly.
In Reclamation 2 yrs ago Forum: 1x1 Roleplay
Reclamation - Stories in a post-Earth, extraplanetary setting.

Initial Lore
The Setting
Reclamation takes place within the boundaries of our own solar system. Earth has been abandoned; its surface smothered by smog, its ozone layer torn asunder, its life stifled and suffocated in the womb of their own fallen planet. Humanity has escaped - narrowly - by the efforts of the international scientific community, along with select species of flora and fauna. Worlds were terraformed and enormous structures built throughout the solar system for humanity, the last truly surviving Earth species, to limp to.

Two hundred and twenty three years later, our first story begins. Humanity has managed to establish a tenuously comfortable existence spread across the system.

The inner solar system is predominantly used for resource production; much of what is required for human survival and technology, as developed on the warm climes of Earth, requires the relative proximity of the Sun to obtain and produce - particularly food.

Mars has been terraformed into an ultra-fertile agricultural planet, which provides food for the majority of the solar system. Shipping routes are now well-established and defended, both against malcontents and natural threats such as the solar wind, but the supply lines are long and there are concerns about the vulnerability of humanity's other settlements. Meat is too inefficient to produce compared to crops, and so the majority of humanity are now vegetarian - not by ethical choice, but by necessity for survival. Only the richest and most favoured can afford such a delicacy. Mars' poles are dominated by enormous storage containers, silos containing not only food, but also the volatile ices and minerals mined from the gas giants further out in the solar system in order to hyper-fertilise the soil for crop growth.

Mercury and Venus have been converted into planetary power sources. Mercury's proximity to the Sun has been utilised in order to generate massive amounts of solar power; its surface is covered in the most efficient and sturdy panels humanity can construct, the power from which is beamed via laser to relay stations on Venus, and from there across the rest of the solar system. Significant investment has been made to perfect this technology and to reduce the dissipation of power as the laser travels through the vacuum of space. Venus, on the other hand, is covered in geothermal power plants, taking advantage of its extreme tectonic activity and volcanism to top up the energy provided from Mercury and - more relevantly - to power the distributive relay system.

The asteroid belt is, in essence, the largest mine anybody could ever wish for. Many basic minerals and ores, along with volatile ices, can be obtained from the bodies circulating through the belt. The Kirkwood gaps are populated by colossal, manned space stations dedicated to industrial processing and manufacturing. The requisite materials are mined by smaller manned craft and fleets of automated unmanned robots from the asteroids.

And so we come to the outer solar system, where temperatures drop precipitously at planet surfaces, and no structure can be built on any planet. The gas giants reign. Instead, humanity clings to moons, like barnacles on the hull of a ship, hoping not to be swept away by the unfeeling ocean of the cosmos.

Jupiter is a blessing for humanity - three of its four Galilean moons are large enough and on stable enough orbits to support settlements, while Io's cryovolcanism and strong magnetic interaction with Jupiter can be used as a local power source to supplement that provided by the two innermost planets. Additionally, the uppermost atmosphere of the undepletable planet can be harvested for volatile ices for essentially an eternity without being noticeably impacted.
Callisto, the furthest Galilean moon from Jupiter and thus the one exposed to the least radiation from Jupiter, is known simply as "The Prison", with emphasis on "the". With minimal radiation shielding necessary, and little else to be said for the moon, almost all convicts from across the solar system are sent here for manual labour operating enormous industrial sites that are unsuitable for the massive space stations in the asteroid belt. This has the dual benefit of, more often than not, providing valuable skills to the imprisoned, and it is common for former felons to find themselves careers out in the asteroid belt after their internment.
Europa is, by governmental decree, to be left untouched. Shortly after their escape, on their long exile out to Saturn, humanity discovered life in the subsurface oceans of Europa - alien, and aquatic only by technical definition, as reportedly the creatures were like unlike anything seen on Earth. Records of what lies beneath the thick outer ice crust of Europa remain closely guarded state secrets - supposedly for fear that knowing would make people more likely to attempt to visit the planet, despite the extreme prejudice with which it is defended by military-level equipment. Despite these restrictions, and to the outrage of many, it is possible for the ultra-rich to dine upon these creatures. Specimens carefully and secretly taken for classified research by state-sanctioned academics are, once finished with, sold to the highest bidder for dining purposes - a meal for kings, albeit under very close observation.
Ganymede is, politically speaking, the most important of the Galilean moons. It is the largest of them, and is home to the system-famous University of Ganymede: a conglomeration of all of Earth's previous top institutions, the home of the top academics and researchers of the day... and quite a few political opportunists. The founders of the UoG were the very same people who led the development of the astonishing technological breakthroughs that allowed humanity to escape its doom on Earth, and the prestige they experienced was passed on to the institution they spent the rest of their lives building. Many political and economic figures of the day were educated there. The university - as well as the many residences, shops, industrial plants, nuclear power plants, and other establishments that constitute one of humanity's largest colonies - is housed in large spheres, slightly extending from the planet's surface but with the majority of their bulk underground. The thin oxygen-based atmosphere is harvested, concentrated, and recycled in these spheres as it is consumed and exhaled by those living there.

Saturn. The ark of humanity's survival; the place we fled to when all was lost. The deliverer and saviour of our species, bearer of Earth's lost, the sacred resting place of all of our home planet's hopes for its children. And, in place of the beautiful rings that once looped the planet, built out of their bones: New Saturn, the ringworld. Humanity's new home. The centre of the solar economy and politics. A cesspit, stinking of opportunism and the shameful past of our ever-destructive race. A beacon, shining bright for our future and the oft-overshadowed nobility that lies in the heart of all people. All that is good and all that is bad about us, our God and our Devil, sitting upon both left shoulder and right. A glorious sight, and the most incredible technological marvel we have ever achieved.
A thousand kilometres across and situated approximately 35000 kilometres from the surface of Saturn, the ringworld has around the same surface area as Earth. But, by contrast to humanity's ancient home, the entire ringworld is hyper-urbanised - in other words its population capacity is enormous, although currently much of the ringworld is dedicated to industry and manufacturing rather than residential properties. It is utterly dependent on Mars for its food - though water can be synthesised from Hydrogen and Oxygen obtained from the planet itself and its moons. The surface of the ringworld itself is studded with every imaginable cross-section of a human life - slums and poverty, slabs of concrete rising from the ground like grasping fingers towards Saturn rising above, interwoven with the spacious and leafy promenades and gold-painted balustrades of the wealthiest and most fortunate. Industrial and corporate sectors meet at lines that are physically invisible, but are fiercely observed by the inhabitants - rarely crossed, gouged out of adamantium in the minds of New Saturn's denizens. It is a form of social and economic segregation that is tolerated because it keeps order. Digitisation and technology are ubiquitous; there was little room for any inefficiency in the early days, and New Saturn's culture has formed out of that hard and unyielding dedication to progress, to climb and reach for the next step. There is little doubt that, even compared to Ganymede, it is New Saturn that is the technological centre of the solar system - here, people breathe electricity, not air.
Titan, Saturn's most notable moon, is as untouched and protected as Europa. There is a scientific belief that life may also exist in its subsurface oceans. Until this is proven otherwise, the government uses its nearby military strongholds - which are predominantly based on New Saturn anyway - to defend the moon from any encroachment.

Beyond Saturn: No publicly-known major settlements. It is too cold, and too far from the supply lines of power and food from the inner solar system. Conspiracy theorists assert that secret military and government projects are based on the moons of Uranus, and it is known that their moons play host to the some of the small number of malcontents, revolutionaries, and bandits that exist in the system. Here, they eke out a miserable and isolated existence, living aboard their ships or, if they are lucky, in one of the self-sustaining bases that were established for various reasons during humanity's exploration and colonisation of the rest of the solar system. There are rumours of a larger, more organised community establishing itself there - one where no laws bind people, and everything from death games to unethical research to discussions of revolution can openly take place. To any ordinary citizen's knowledge, these rumours are unfounded.
Neptune, Pluto, and further are still unvisited by any person; though they are there if, for some unimaginable reason, they become necessary. Scientists are, however, utilising humanity's new home towards the edge of the solar system to explore the Kuiper belt more thoroughly, using unmanned probes.

Power and Technology

Religion and Other Factions
Got bored, logged in for the first time in yonks.

Is there still a Skype group going or anything? Would be cool to pop in and say hi to people.

EDIT: Jesus Christ, Guildfall was 4 years ago? Time fuckin' flies.
In Praxis 4 yrs ago Forum: Spam Forum

I thought of exactly the same thing.
Tbh that's not really what Spam is used for. Explaining your logic =/= condoning it. @111piper111
Methinks you might have posted this in the wrong place, buddy.

They're editing it in as they go, so probably a temp post. Probably using Spam because... well, "Spam".
I know I've been doing a bit too much coding recently because I read "numpty" as "numpy". Fml.
Merry Christmas, ya bastards. Hope you all are having a lovely or at least a not-mediocre-or-terrible time.
If I could change it in my country, I'd change it so that the government can't trigger Article 50 without another, legally-binding referendum. I'm happy to accept the results of democracy when people actually know the stakes, now.

In literally any other country, I'd make hourly vocal prayer to Harambe compulsory. Because creativity is hard.
That's why large countries should be broken up. (^:


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