Posted October 10, 2013
Just a bit of an experiment I decided to try. I've seen these done on other sites, no idea if there's a rule against it here. Anyway, this will be a Journal kept by my character as he plays the game. Think of it as a Text Let's play. I would love to hear opinions on this as I go, and what's more, I hope you guys enjoy reading this.
Jounral Entry 2450.1
My name is Sage. Well, no, it's really something with four clicks in it, and a wheezing sound. Or was it three clicks and a gasping sound? Gods, so hard to remember these days. I suppose I should start farther back than that, for those of you who've been living in the brush like I used to though.
A Long Time Ago, isn't that how all great tales begin? Regardless, way back in the day, humans, homo sapians lived on a tiny blue ball called Earth. Then some smart guy decided that it might be fun to hurl ourselves into space on explosions. Interestingly enough, that worked, and people launched themselves skyward by blowing stuff up. However, doing that took a lot of explosions, and the Earth was tiny, so it didn't have a lot of those, so some other smart guy later, like a hundred years or more, came up with another way to hurl people into space.
That was is Gravitics. It involves focused gravity energy...and I've lost the lot of you. Suffice it to say, it allowed mankind to leap farther than ever before, moving through space at speeds that make your head spin. More, a certain use of the engines cause holes in space to appear, allowing someone to leap across the void between stars in a few seconds, though outside days might pass thanks to relativity.
And so humanity, once confined on a little blue ball, leapt into space. Peace settled over the bulk of the species as the Federation, a bunch of big wigs, took over. How they formed you got me, but they held the reigns for a while. At least, until the issue of Human Rights came up. You see, slavery, like what we got out here in the sticks, well, back on Earth they got rid of it, and now they wanted us in the stars to get rid of it to.
That difference of opinion soon led to a war. First between the Feddies and the Outer Rim Alliance, ORAs for short. After a few companies started to get a bit too rich off that war, the Feddies tried to crack down on them, and soon had another opponent, as the Coalition, the Coals, took to be independents for free trade and what not.
Then comes the last player, and the most important to yours truly. The Syndicate. They were just a bunch of Pirates, Outlaws, and other such types, who came together with on goal. Kick the crud out of the law, and live free. That motto got a lot of dreams and idiots to flock to them. One such group were my ancestors, who became the plain dwellers on founding world of the Syndicate, Moscow Prime.
Those idiots decided to forsake the tech that brought them to the stars, to forgo the destiny that generations before had foisted upon them. Instead, they wanted to live as the ancients had lived. Mind, they were always arguing about how the ancients had lived. Some talked about massive stone temples, others of vast wandering tribes, and some even talked about houses in the far north made of snow, as if snow would make for a solid building material.
Into such trash, I was born. I don't remember much of those years, but I remember getting punished, a lot. Both for fighting to kill even when we were playing, and for being interested in the stars. When I came of Age, to take my own name, I burned the big wooden hole the primitive screw heads called a town hall, and ran off.
I made my way to the local port, it was a run of a few days, but I was determined to have the stars all for myself. I almost made it off world, when some guards from the main Syndicate found me, Original Syn, as they're called. Luckily, rather than shoot me, they took me to the local boss, a man named Lord Harvey. He called me, a 13 year old boy, the Barbarian Child, and took me in.
Over the next 8 years I became Lord Harvey's best muscle. I was tougher than anybody, wild and crazy, and most of all, I was good at knowing how to win, not just fight. I made that old man a lot of money in those years, and made a name for myself. The Barbarian Child became the Barbarian, the most feared name in the Western Ports.
Then came that day that the tribes on the plains got themselves slagged. No idea why, but some Lord from a distant port came in with a Battleship, blasted some huts, and then took the survivors to be slaves. I, being one of their number, was assaulted in the street by some Original Syn guards. They must have wanted me dead for a job I pulled some time ago, and figured they could write it off as me going wild at the death of my people. Maybe they thought I would be mad at that, that I'd go Berserk and they could take me in my rage.
They were dead in three heartbeats. But I was now holding a gun that had vaped some Original Syn guards. They came after you for that. I had gone in one instant from Lord Harvey's best asset, to his biggest liability. If I'd been any less popular, or any less smart about backups in case he tried anything, he'd have had me killed on the spot, and nothing would have been said. As it was, I got some surgery to remove my tribal tattoos, the last mark of my home, and then got some cash and a fighter, and was told to ship out.
Luck ran strong with me though. A couple of girls needed an out, quick, as they'd been caught smuggling. Their ship was now marked, and I traded them my fighter, and most of my savings, for their Orca. A quick wipe of the ID, and a toggling of the Drive plates, and I had me a Corvette in place of that ratty old fighter. I even got some of the boys in the back manning stations, bringing some of my old life with me into space. This is my first Journal entry as I sit here, waiting for flight clearance, looking at the stars. I name myself their Sage, and soon, they will know that I am their master.
Journal End and File
Jounral Entry 2450.1
My name is Sage. Well, no, it's really something with four clicks in it, and a wheezing sound. Or was it three clicks and a gasping sound? Gods, so hard to remember these days. I suppose I should start farther back than that, for those of you who've been living in the brush like I used to though.
A Long Time Ago, isn't that how all great tales begin? Regardless, way back in the day, humans, homo sapians lived on a tiny blue ball called Earth. Then some smart guy decided that it might be fun to hurl ourselves into space on explosions. Interestingly enough, that worked, and people launched themselves skyward by blowing stuff up. However, doing that took a lot of explosions, and the Earth was tiny, so it didn't have a lot of those, so some other smart guy later, like a hundred years or more, came up with another way to hurl people into space.
That was is Gravitics. It involves focused gravity energy...and I've lost the lot of you. Suffice it to say, it allowed mankind to leap farther than ever before, moving through space at speeds that make your head spin. More, a certain use of the engines cause holes in space to appear, allowing someone to leap across the void between stars in a few seconds, though outside days might pass thanks to relativity.
And so humanity, once confined on a little blue ball, leapt into space. Peace settled over the bulk of the species as the Federation, a bunch of big wigs, took over. How they formed you got me, but they held the reigns for a while. At least, until the issue of Human Rights came up. You see, slavery, like what we got out here in the sticks, well, back on Earth they got rid of it, and now they wanted us in the stars to get rid of it to.
That difference of opinion soon led to a war. First between the Feddies and the Outer Rim Alliance, ORAs for short. After a few companies started to get a bit too rich off that war, the Feddies tried to crack down on them, and soon had another opponent, as the Coalition, the Coals, took to be independents for free trade and what not.
Then comes the last player, and the most important to yours truly. The Syndicate. They were just a bunch of Pirates, Outlaws, and other such types, who came together with on goal. Kick the crud out of the law, and live free. That motto got a lot of dreams and idiots to flock to them. One such group were my ancestors, who became the plain dwellers on founding world of the Syndicate, Moscow Prime.
Those idiots decided to forsake the tech that brought them to the stars, to forgo the destiny that generations before had foisted upon them. Instead, they wanted to live as the ancients had lived. Mind, they were always arguing about how the ancients had lived. Some talked about massive stone temples, others of vast wandering tribes, and some even talked about houses in the far north made of snow, as if snow would make for a solid building material.
Into such trash, I was born. I don't remember much of those years, but I remember getting punished, a lot. Both for fighting to kill even when we were playing, and for being interested in the stars. When I came of Age, to take my own name, I burned the big wooden hole the primitive screw heads called a town hall, and ran off.
I made my way to the local port, it was a run of a few days, but I was determined to have the stars all for myself. I almost made it off world, when some guards from the main Syndicate found me, Original Syn, as they're called. Luckily, rather than shoot me, they took me to the local boss, a man named Lord Harvey. He called me, a 13 year old boy, the Barbarian Child, and took me in.
Over the next 8 years I became Lord Harvey's best muscle. I was tougher than anybody, wild and crazy, and most of all, I was good at knowing how to win, not just fight. I made that old man a lot of money in those years, and made a name for myself. The Barbarian Child became the Barbarian, the most feared name in the Western Ports.
Then came that day that the tribes on the plains got themselves slagged. No idea why, but some Lord from a distant port came in with a Battleship, blasted some huts, and then took the survivors to be slaves. I, being one of their number, was assaulted in the street by some Original Syn guards. They must have wanted me dead for a job I pulled some time ago, and figured they could write it off as me going wild at the death of my people. Maybe they thought I would be mad at that, that I'd go Berserk and they could take me in my rage.
They were dead in three heartbeats. But I was now holding a gun that had vaped some Original Syn guards. They came after you for that. I had gone in one instant from Lord Harvey's best asset, to his biggest liability. If I'd been any less popular, or any less smart about backups in case he tried anything, he'd have had me killed on the spot, and nothing would have been said. As it was, I got some surgery to remove my tribal tattoos, the last mark of my home, and then got some cash and a fighter, and was told to ship out.
Luck ran strong with me though. A couple of girls needed an out, quick, as they'd been caught smuggling. Their ship was now marked, and I traded them my fighter, and most of my savings, for their Orca. A quick wipe of the ID, and a toggling of the Drive plates, and I had me a Corvette in place of that ratty old fighter. I even got some of the boys in the back manning stations, bringing some of my old life with me into space. This is my first Journal entry as I sit here, waiting for flight clearance, looking at the stars. I name myself their Sage, and soon, they will know that I am their master.
Journal End and File