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Gateway: The Third Parallel

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Graid

PostPosted: Sat Dec 16, 2006 3:13 am


It has been twenty-five years since Operation Gatekeeper marked the end of the Galactic Commonwealth's war with the alien Norathi. It was a victory of sorts, but one that did not come without great sacrifice.
Operation Gatekeeper, a plan conceived in response to the Norathi's imminent breach of the the subspace tunnel network, saw the remaining loyalist Knight units plant high yield explosive devices at key structural points on Tycho Gate Station. The prevention of further Norathi incursion into Commonwealth space was assured.
The detonation of Tycho Gate Station went as planned, but then something happened that none could have foreseen. The explosion was magnified through the subspace tunnels, destroying not only the world of Fortress, but also Vorenus and Castle as well.
Three planets and their populations lost, just so the Galactic Commonwealth could continue to exist.
But the Commonwealth is not as powerful as it once was. The Galactic Commonwealth Defence Force was weakened significantly during the war. Fully half of its Fleet, including its commander-in-chief and his flagship, were lost in the battle for the Fortress System. Its ground forces were further depleted by mass desertions, tens of thousands of troopers choosing to go AWOL rather than continue to remain a part of something that effectively gave away the lives of those that it was created to protect.
The Galactic Commonwealth is slowly beginning to crumble...

The Third Parallel is a chain of planets so-called because it is roughly parallel to the Wraithi Arm, though they lie at the opposite sides of the Galactic Commonwealth. It consists of seven planets. In order from the centre of the Commonwealth and heading outwards, they are: Torvus, Hyde, Ueto, Clearwater, Megido, Lusitania and Elysium.

Torvus is a garden world. It features plant and animal species from over a dozen other planets and they all seem to thrive in its atmosphere and rich soil. The GCDF have never taken much interest in Torvus, in fact they have a strict policy of non-interference, preferring to leave its running to those much better suited to preserving life than ending it. This duty falls to a small group of Wraithi who carefully monitor the ecosystem and collect plant and animal samples needed for medical research,
Unknown to both the GCDF the Wraithi, a crime syndicate from Lusitania has set up their own base somewhere on Torvus. They are involved in the highly lucrative trade of ‘space-dust’, a potentially deadly narcotic obtained from the Torvun Skyflower, as well as the illegal hunting of one of the galaxy’s most dangerous predators, the omniraptor, which is found only on Torvus. Rich business types have been known to spend over a million credits for just one day of hunting on Torvus.

Hyde is the Third Parallel’s answer to Nocturne. It lies as far from its dying sun as possible while still being able to support life, is made of a solid core of rock surrounded by permanent layers of frozen ice and snow and has few settlements. In fact the only spaceport is outside the planet’s only city, also called Hyde.
No one knows why Hyde was settled at all, but rumours persist that, long ago, the Wraithi created a device of such power that even they feared its use and hid it on the icy world. Every year teams of explorers, adventurers, treasure and bounty hunters come to Hyde to search for the now mythical weapon.

Ueto has long been technological centre of the southeast Commonwealth. It features plants belonging to the WTC and Arande as well as a number of smaller companies like Aesyrean Starheart and Templar AIS.
Once a world rich in mineral ores of many kinds, Ueto has now been mostly mined out. Some active tunnels still exist deep below the surface, close to the molten core, searching for the few remaining deposits of Promethium 442.
Thousands of years of heavy industrial process have turned Ueto into a barren wasteland where nothing lives. The atmosphere is corrosive and unbreathable, the sea little more than toxic soup.
Even more dangerous than the hostile environment, is the long-running feud between the Wraithi Technology Conglomerate and Arande, which has reached breaking point. The WTC suspect Arande of several acts of sabotage, including the loss of the Phalanx satellite which was reputed to house the only working prototype of their particle beam weapon.
It can only be so long until open warfare is declared between the two galaxy-spanning super-corporations.

Clearwater is unique in that it has no landmasses of any kind, and is one of the major food producing worlds in the Galactic Commonwealth. Its population survive in specially constructed bubble cities, anchored to the planet’s solid core of rock and water ice. The main industry is, as one would expect, fishing.
Clearwater boasts the largest ecosystem in the galaxy with over a dozen levels in its food web, ranging from microscopic plankton and algae to gigantic spawn whales and dannr sharks. The rarest delicacy in the galaxy can be found on Clearwater, and is the albino rock lobster. These huge crustaceans can grow up to forty feet long and their powerful claws can cut through steel with ease. Unfortunately, no-one has seen one for almost twenty years.

Megido is an extremly volcanically active world. Its surface is a constantly shifting sea of lava and molten rock. Its worth to the Galactic Commonwealth is significant, as currents within the flowing magma often bring supplies of rare metal elements to the surface. The population of Megido live on floating platform cities, high above the surface, which are little more than giant refineries.
In orbit above Megido lies one of the most famous, or infamous, satellite stations in the Commonwealth - the White Tiger Casino. It has long been suspected that a criminal syndicate is using the casino to launder stolen funds, but nothing has ever been proven.
The Megido class battleship was named after this planet.

Lusitania is one of the most populated worlds in the galaxy with hundreds of millions of people squeezed into an area barely one tenth the size of earth. Its day is exactly the same length as its year, meaning that one side of the small world is constantly heated by the rays of its sun, turning it into a desolate and barren wasteland, and all life is on the dark side.
Due to the massive population food, water and clothing on Lusitania are carefully rationed and recycled, making it one of the poorest planets in the Commonwealth. Despite this, a number of criminal organisations are operating in the many levelled pyramidal cities. They seek to undermine the government and gather wealth and power for themselves, little knowing that Lusitania teeters on the knife edge between survival and total anarchy.

Elysium is a pleasure planet and a favourite destination of pirates, bounty hunters and even GCDF personnel looking to take it easy for a while. Word has spread that nothing is forbidden to the clients of Elysium, a rumour that the planet's owners are keen to see reach the far edges of the Commonwealth.

Technology
Every year ships get a little faster, AI gets a little smarter and weapons get a little more powerful.

Starships, such as the wraithi manufactured Ghost, Pegasus and Thor class cruisers, are powered by complicated devices called plasma hyperdrives. They utilise the energy released by hydrogen atoms as they are energised to a plasmic state. Hyperdrives require an immense amount of energy to start, but once running they are practically self-sustaining. They use rods of Promethium 442 as fuel to heat the hydrogen atoms to the required temperature.

Weapons primarily utilise solid ammunition as energy and plasma weapons have proven to be extremely unpredictable. In fact, Aesyrean Starheart has recalled all of its plasma weaponry following reports of over-heating and even exploding during use.
Arande manufacture several types of pistol, rifle and heavier weapon including the MAG16 Automatic Machine Pistol, the MAG 32 Pulse Rifle and the Macrocannon.
The WTC, on the other hand, create so-called high energy weapons which use a powerful magnokinetic pulse to propel solid ammunition to supersonic speeds. They have produced Nail rifles and Lance launchers, named after their ammunition by GCDF troops given prototypes to test in the field.

Extreme danger: Particle Beam Weapon
The particle beam weapon uses a similar method to plasma weaponry. The main difference is that, in particle beam devices, hydrogen atoms are accelerated to light speeds, rather than energised by heat. The resulting beam is therefore invisible to the naked eye and most sensor systems, and capable of punching through all but the most heavily shielded craft.
There are plans for oribital defence satellites featuring Particle Beams, the energy requirments too vast to be met by even the most powerful hyperdrive-equipped vessel.

Races:
The Wraithi
Once a powerfully psychic race, the wraithi hail from a planet known as Grave which lies far to the galactic north of Gateway Station. Thouands of years ago, and event which the wraithi refer to as Cataclysm wiped out every member of their species, leaving them as nothing more than disembodied spirits.
Over the years since, the wraithi constructed advanced robotic frames to house their essences, but at the cost of their psychic abilities, and once again the wraithi set out to explore the galaxy.
The first recorded contact between man and wraithi was above the colony world of Prospect, a wraithi ship apparently monitoring the humans' progress on the world below. once a dialogue was established, the wraithi proving able to assimilate languages extremely quickly, it was discovered that both races had the same aim: the continuing exploration and colonisation of the galaxy. Humans and wraithi shared their technology freely, the wraithi introducing a way to cross vast interstellar distances through subspace tunnels, though they kept the secrets of their construction to themselves.
All wraithi seem to share an innate affinity for machinery of all kinds, and are often found in research and development roles in the various super corporations. Wraithi also make ideal soldiers: immovable on the defence and unstoppable on the attack, unfortunately the wraithi are extremely reluctant to place themselves in harm's way, the loss of every individual keenly felt by the rapidly dwindling race.
Since they are effectively dead, the wraithi show little emotion, but all who have dealings with them say they are filled with a sense of longing, as for a better time, for things long passed. There is evidence that humans and aesyreans have had an effect on the wraithi, some beginning to show signs of the more powerful emotions such as sadness, hate and even love.

The Aesyreans
A humanoid race at least as old as mankind and hailing from the heavily forested planet of Aesyr, there is much evidence that the aesyreans evolved from a much more predatory race than the apes that were the distant ancestors of humanity. Physically larger than a human, every aesyrean possesses a ridge of short bony spines on the outside of their forearms, longer and more pointed canines than humans, eyes that range in colour from bright orange to deep crimson and hair in a variety of exciting metallic hues. Female aesyreans are noticeably larger, more aggressive and more dominant that the males of their race.
All aesyreans belong to one of several clans, membership is not permanent however, and it is common for an individul to spend time as a member of each over their centuries-long life. The largest and better known clans are called Starheart and Siverdawn. It is not uncommon for clans to come into conflict with one another, but rather than a cause for concern, the aesyreans see this as a chance to hone their skills in battle against equally honourable and skilled opponents.
A tradition apparently confined to the aesyreans is that of the naming. Once a child has come of age and proven him or her self to be worthy, they get to choose their own name. Generally they pick something they like the sound of; short, sharp and easy to remember.
Aesyrean technology is based on self-sustaining plasma cells which produce a significant amount of energy given their small size. Aesyrean plasma drives, generators and reactors have become the standard methods of powering everything from cutters and ground vehicles to space craft and even Gateway Station's many systems.
Despite many attempts, humans and aesyreans appear unable to inter-breed.

The Nocturnes
Nocturnes are the descendants of the genetically modified colonists who settled on the planet Nocturne more than a thousand years ago. It is a world in constant darkness, lit only by the dim rays of its distant sun. Much of the planet’s surface is a frozen wasteland even in what passes for summer on that world.
At first glance, a nocturne would pass for human and only on closer inspection would any difference become apparent. Nocturnes have no irises or colouring of any kind in their eyes, instead they have enlarged pupils which gives them extremely good vision in low-light environments. The second difference is in bone and muscle density. Nocturne has one-and-a-half times standard gravity and Nocturnes have adapted in such a way that their skeleton is very light but also very resilient.
As befits their world of permanent ice and darkness, Nocturnes are a stoic hard-working people.


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PostPosted: Sat Dec 23, 2006 11:13 am


She was in trouble. She was often in trouble, but seldom the kind that meant her imminent death.
She had come through the Gate above Torvus when it happened, much too soon after the last time for her liking. Both plasma hyperdrives burned out within minutes of each other. The huge canisters with their armaglass apertures should have emitted a rich green glow, but now they were dark and silent and cold.
The Lightning Reflex drifted aimlessly in the void above the muddy green and brown world below.
Only those systems deemed necessary in such a situation were still running; life support, short range sensor spikes and comms. They were powered by a solar converter which should have also powered the refrigeration coils. But she'd had her wraithi technician, Exocet, slave them to the main drive before leaving Giant. Now she was in danger of being cooked alive long before running out of oxygen, there being no way to lose heat in total vacuum.
She floated naked and weightless above her padded G-chair, only the thick straps across her chest and thighs preventing her drifting into the inches-thick armaglass canopy that stood between her and the depths of space. She had removed her clothes when sweat had made them stick to her.
She had heard that the prospect of certain death concentrated the mind wonderfully. Unfortunately, what the mind concentrated on was the fact that it was in a body that was going to die.

Graid


Flynn MacCumhaill
Captain

PostPosted: Wed Dec 27, 2006 3:08 am


An ancient bucket of a ship was lazily drifting along in a high orbit over the jade bead of Torvus. At a casual glance, it might be supposed that this vessel was just another piece of the thinly dispersed junk whizzing around the planet... although anyone with any knowledge would deem this somewhat unlikely, as it was clear that it had been carefully positioned between the crap-zones of high planetary and the Gate. On a second glance, the observer would probably determine that it rightfully belonged amongst the orbiting junk. A third, rather more careful glance would identify it as one of only a very small handful of Vauthian Cutlass 9631-Es still capable of taking to the skies, and one of an even smaller handful that weren't restored collectors' pieces.

The pilot of this particular junkheap currently had his feet up on the control pannel, his hands folded behind his head, and was drinking out of a water cannister floating in the air before him as he enjoyed the view from the cockpit while his ship slowly rotated along its axis, along its orbital path. He had several hours yet to wait before anything would start happening. His bounty -- a nobody, really, but a particularly rich, paranoid nobody, and therefore a nobody worth a little more than nobodies generally were -- was not due to arrive for another six hours. Orpheus yawned. That was alright: he didn't have much of a plan yet, and it was always useful to know where every relevant bit of crap was around the stupid planet. It was nice to know beforehand what he could use and what he'd have to avoid.

As the ship -- the Nightingale, actually, rolled to face up toward the general area of the Gate, a particularly shiny piece of junk glinted out from the thin layer of crap above. Orpheus squinted at it, and amended his initial assessment: it was an expensive-looking shiny piece of junk. In a sudden flurry of movement, his feet were off the control pannel, his long rust-coloured ponytail was flicked back off his shoulder, the water cannister was back in its holder, and he was calling up a scan of the flashy unidentified object.

One hand strayed off the controls to scratch at his goatee as he glanced from the old monochromatic holographic screen to the distant real visual outside of the cockpit, and back again. The shell of the thing was a luvverly old Aurelian Corsair -- admittedly, even in its basic form the Corsair was practically state-of-the-art compared to his Cutlass -- but the thing had clearly been stripped and gutted, and upgraded with some pretty classy stuff, if the scan was telling him the truth. Hades' rivers, he'd seen enough of the wrong end of the damned things to recognise the wing-mounted plasma cannons, and that lance launcher wasn't hard to miss... and unless he was very much mistaken, the Corsair came standard with a liquid fuel engine, which that was not...

Actually, what the hell was that?

Oh.

The external profile had all the hallmarks of a dual plasma drive, except for the whole "cold" and "dead" aspect.

Hell, he had nothing better to do, so he opened a comm channel to the Corsair.

"Unidentified Aurelain Corsair, this is Vauthian Cutlass nine-six-five-one-E six-six-eight-five-C-twenty-one 'Nightingale'," he intoned, raising his eyes to the visual pickup. "Just checking on your status there, Aurelian Corsair. Just noticed you were looking a little quiet, there. Over."

Had the thing been some ultra-flashy piece of straight-from-the-factory, company-custom crap, he would have ignored it, but this looked like a practical ship, so he was a little more kindly disposed. Anyway, he was curious as to who used a Corsair shell when they could afford upgrades like that.
PostPosted: Thu Dec 28, 2006 10:32 am


Quick fumbled for the com-mic, eventually finding it floating behind her head by following the cable from the instrument panel.
She had learned not to bother with correct communications ettiquet, and there was no time especially not under circumstances like these. But some nicities stillhad to be observed. Last time, she had cursed at nearly every ship that came within range, until a passing frieghter captain took pity.
"Nightingale, this is Aurelian Corsair 'Lightning Reflex'. If you're not too busy memorising your ship's registration number, I could do with a little help."
Asking for help made her feel weak, small, lost. It made her feel like she actually needed help.
"Situation: critical. Both drives burned out, temperature rising. Don't ask about the refrigeration coils or I'll have to find enough power to shoot you down."
If she ever made it back to civilisation, she would have an extra coil fitted. There'd be space somewhere.
"So, uh, if you have any extra promethium rods, you know, knocking around..."
That was asking a lot, and she knew it. But maybe the whole damsel in distress thing was worth running with for now. She'd already made her first impression. Too late for regrets.
Promethium was one of the rarest elements in the Commonwealth, and more than one planet had been turned into a tunnel ridden rock once even the smallest trace has been discovered in the crust. But it was necessary for starting plasma reactors and drives, running them too.

Graid


Flynn MacCumhaill
Captain

PostPosted: Thu Dec 28, 2006 1:24 pm


Orpheus laughed, as a sarcastic female voice crackled over the link. "Nightingale, this is Aurelian Corsair 'Lightning Reflex'. If you're not too busy memorising your ship's registration number, I could do with a little help. Situation: critical. Both drives burned out, temperature rising. Don't ask about the refrigeration coils or I'll have to find enough power to shoot you down."

A highly-amused type of grin crept across Orpheus's face at this. He was in no doubt that the sarcastic skipper of the Ligntning Reflex was also utterly nekkid.

"So, uh, if you have any extra promethium rods, you know, knocking around..."

Orpheus opened the link to reply, just as he was finishing laughing. "Unlike some people, Lightning Reflex, I can't afford to run this scrapheap on anything more than liquid fuel. You should try it some day -- you generally manage to have just enough to limp into a station, no matter what the disaster.

"I can give you a tow to the nearest station, or a lift down to the surface. Although I'll have to ask for you to pay for the fuel, as that's kinda out of my way," he teased. He was serious, though, that he was going to ask a price. "But don't worry, that won't be much. Over."
PostPosted: Fri Dec 29, 2006 4:45 am


"Out of your way? Torvus is right there! Oh, but then, I forgot your ship will need to be refuelled while we're dirtside."
Quick tried to feel smug, but couldn't due to the fact that she was reliant on the goodwill of someone who had no pressing reason to have any.
Rescued at last.
Despite nakedness being the national costume of everywhere, she firmly decided that a naked woman would not make the right first impression in her rescuer.
She hunted for her clothes in the compartments in the back of tiny cockpit.
Jeans, black. Top, practically transparent. Boots, leather, black. Jacket, leather, black.
Outfit complete. Pity about the smell of stale sweat.

Graid


Flynn MacCumhaill
Captain

PostPosted: Fri Jan 12, 2007 2:07 am


"It's time and position that concerns me more here than distance," he shot back. "And I think our different situations says all I ever could in reply to that other quip." He was grinning.

"I can't very well tow you into atmos, obviously. Wouldya like me to park you out of sight in the junk before I pick you up? After all, you're in plain view, and the scavengers are more interested in how shiny a piece of crap is, not how useful."

Lady Fortune was in a good mood for the moment, it seemed. The sketchy plan in his head for dealing with the coney was to disable his lander, tow it in to cover, and gut the damned thing. Here was a ready-made opportunity for a dress rehearsal.

He pressed his lips together, scratching his goatee. The Lady in Green was fickle: he hoped this was not an ill omen for later.
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The Filing Cabinet

 
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