Battlecruiser Alamo - Core Rulebook

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Core Rulebook

baTTLECRUISER aLAMO Introduction

Richard Tongue Originally, when I began work on what would eventually become the Battlecruiser Alamo series, my intention was to write a military-science-fiction trilogy that kept as closely as possible to the universe as it actually existed. I didn’t want to write ‘space opera’, or anything like that – instead, I wanted to design something that actually could exist, or at least something sufficient to permit a suspension of disbelief. When it came to concocting the hendecaspace drive, I pushed my limited scientific skills to their boundaries and beyond in attempting to devise something realistic, before finally realising that if I could accomplish something like that, I should be collecting a Nobel Prize, not writing novels. Needless to say, I eventually settled for something that felt reasonable – right down to thirteen-dimensional space, which according to a few theories, actually might exist. Accepting faster-than-light travel, I set some strict rules for myself at the onset. To begin with, I wanted to keep alien races to a minimum; while I was happy to have them in the background of the setting, I wasn’t confident enough in myself to create a race that I considered truly ‘alien’, and the last thing I wanted was to come up with something with a bumpy forehead and completely human mannerisms. Ultimately, my desire to introduce non-human races led me to the early decision that the Neanderthals had survived on other worlds – allowing me to research my ‘alien’ race, at least to a degree that satisfied me. Along the same lines, I didn’t want to resort to the tired Star Trek tropes of alternate dimensions or time travel, or strange psychic powers. They didn’t seem to fit the reality of the setting as I had conceived it. Having said that – I’d be lying if I said that Star Trek wasn’t at the forefront of my thinking when working on this series. I share the hopes for a brighter, better future, and wanted to promote that as part of my concept. Strange new worlds, yes, but with a realism that I hope shows through in my work. Ragnarok, for example is real. Though it hasn’t existed for millions of years, I modelled that distant world on the concept of the ‘Snowball Earth’, a condition that once gripped our world in what could easily have been a perpetual ice age. Most of the other worlds in this setting are based on current exoplanetary theories, though I must confess that I have fallen behind the times – when I started work on this setting, we knew of only a handful of worlds beyond our own solar system, whereas now, it seems as though new discoveries creep up by the day, strange worlds that one day, just perhaps, we might get around to exploring...

Ed Jowett When I first met Richard and we started work on this project, what was most remarkable about his world to me was the similarities it bore to my own. Obviously, that came from liking the same things, but it also came from an alignment of creative endeavours – Hard Sci-Fi is what we both set out to create. I quickly found out that, despite the similarities, Battlecruiser Alamo was going to be a challenge to capture in roleplaying game form. There’s a very specific feel to the universe which I felt it was vital that I capture. That challenge has been great fun to work on, surrounded by a team who know the universe extremely well – not just Richard himself, who has put a lot of time into this book, but also Keith Draws, who has done the artwork for the Battlecruiser Alamo books for years. I decided to do something a little different with the characters in this game. Instead of a single character, I decided it would be more reflective of the world if every player had two: one as an officer on the ship, responsible for Space Combat and diplomacy, and the second as an Espatier or pilot. As characters die frequently in the Triplanetary Confederation universe – I remember thinking that the battle in one of the books was a bloodbath, even as I was reading it for the first time! – but it is usually the ground forces which do so, this provides a stability to the character while still allowing the correct feel for the universe. There’s one additional thing which I’ve added to the GM Section for this game to preserve the feel: betrayal by the crew. This Core Rulebook is based on the first 3 books of the Battlecruiser Alamo series (The Price of Admiralty, Fermi’s War and Victory or Death). With the Triplanetary Confederation still relatively unstable, a central theme for those books is betrayal by certain members of the crew. I’ve therefore included a few ideas and suggestions in this book of how that might take place during your sessions and campaigns. When playing this game, you aren’t intended to be boarding the Alamo itself, but you will instead be the crew of another of the Thermopylae Class Battlecruisers, exploring your own region of space and telling your own story. The same problems exist across the fleet – games played for one of the planet’s interests, secret infiltration by the Lunar Republic and much, much more. What’s out there is a mystery… and what’s on your ship may be even more so! In terms of the rules for the Battlecruiser Alamo RPG, I’ve adapted the Era d10 Rule Set as seen in our previous game Era: The Consortium, so it is balanced and well-crafted with infinite possibilities – the perfect thing for roaming within this universe! Grab your equipment and board your ship. The unexplored space awaits! I am proud to present, with the support of Richard Tongue and the rest of the Shades of Vengeance Roleplaying Games team: Battlecruiser Alamo – The Tabletop Roleplaying Game – Ed

Battlecruiser alamo

baTTLECRUISER aLAMO

Contributors Artwork

Story Creator & Writer:

Richard Tongue

Art Director & Lead Designer:

Ed Jowett

Lead Writer:

Ed Jowett

Artwork:

Keith Draws

Logo:

Alexander Korchnev

Graphic Design & Layout:

Keith Draws

Rules (Era d10 Rule Set) Creator and Writer:

Ed Jowett

Map:

Keith Draws

Battlecruiser Alamo RPG Rules:

Ed Jowett

Character Sheet:

Ed Jowett

Balancing (Era d10):

Ed Jowett



Keith Draws

Jonathan Jowett

Project Management & Finance

Additional Contribution (Era d10): Phil Adams Alistair Bigos

Project Manager:

Ed Jowett

Funding:

Ed Jowett

Drew Spencley Alpha Playtesters Quality Control

Phil Adams

Editing:

Ed Jowett

Robert Campbell

Proofreading:

Calyie Martin

Mark Haines

Hande Barutcuoglu

Ed Jowett

Artwork:

Ed Jowett



Freddie Rawlins

Special Thanks Immaculate, without whom none of this would exist. All our Kickstarter Contributors, who helped to make this dream a reality! …and You

Battlecruiser Alamo RPG Core Rulebook v1.0

Warning This book is a work of fiction, and is meant to be used for fun and enjoyment. Life in the Triplanetary Fleet is epic and exciting, but can be harsh and violent. We therefore strongly advocate parental discretion (or even participation!).

© Copyright Shades of Vengeance 2018 www.shadesofvengeance.com

No-one at Shades of Vengeance encourages and/or condones the use of drugs, enslavement, war, violence, or performing any type of illegal activity

core rulebook

part 1: the universe

contents How to Use This Book

2

Part 1: The Triplanetary Confederation

3

Section 1: The Current Situation

4

Section 2: Factions

5

The Triplanetary Confederation 5

Part 2: Character Creation

89

Section 1: Character Creation Overview

90

Section 2: Background

91

Quirks

93

Section 3: Character Statistics

95

Attributes

95

Derived Stats

95

Skills

96

Section 4: Specialities

98

Section 5: Gaining Experience

100

Triplanetary Fleet

7

Martian Space Service

10

Callisto Orbital Patrol

11

Titanian Republic

12

Belt People’s Republic

13

Triplanetary Espatiers

15

Part 3: Weapons, Equipment and Vehicles

101

Lunar Republic

17

Section 1: Weapons

102

United Nations

18

Section 2: Armour

107

Triplanetary Intelligence

19

Section 3: Equipment

108

Academic Alliance

21

Section 4: Ship Mounted Weapons

110

Separatists

22

Section 5: Vehicles

110

Section 6 : Spaceships

111

Part 4: The Era d10 Rule Set

115

Guardians

24

Section 3: Locations

25

The Sol System

25

Earth

27

Luna

29

Mars

31

Asteroid Belt

32

Callisto

33

Titan

34

Uranus

35

Proxima Centauri

36

Spitfire Station

38

United Nations Trust Territory

39

Deep Space

41

Mysteries of Deep Space

44

Section 4: Historical Events

45

Hendecaspace Drive

46

The Six Battlecruisers

47

The Interplanetary War

49

Section 5: Starships and Their Functions

51

Section 6: The Realities of Deep Space

59

Section 1: The Basics of the Rule Set

116

Section 2: General Rules

120

Section 3: Damage & Healing

122

Section 4: Status Effects

123

Section 5: Combat Rules

126

Unarmed Combat

129

Melee Combat

132

Ranged Combat

133

Thrown Combat

134

AoE Damage

135

Space Combat

136

Personal Skills

139

Interaction Skills

143

Part 5: For the GM

146

Section 1: General Advice

147

Section 2: Secrets of the Setting

149

Section 3: Suggested Campaigns

155

Section 5: Worked Examples

174

Exploration

60

Farmboy

68

Freedom Fighter

69

Letter Home

73

Mercenary

73

Story Index 184

Patrolman

76

Game Play Index

Smuggler’s Life

77

Space Battle

78

Xenoarchaeologist

87

Appendices 177 Appendix 1: Example Fumble Outcomes 177 Appendix 2: Example Playable Characters 178

189

Contributors List 194 Richard’s Novels 195 Character Sheet 196

Battlecruiser alamo 1

Section 2: Background

How to Use This Book

This book consists of 5 Parts: Information about the Universe, information about Characters, Equipment lists, Rules and the Game Master Section. N.B. The minimum recommended reading for a player is Part 1 Section 1 and then Part 2 to create their character. Part 1: The Triplanetary Confederation This Part contains details about all of the factions in the Triplanetary Confederation universe. Details about each planet humans inhabit, the various factions and the colonies they control can all be found in this Part. It also contains a one-page summary which explains the in-game situation, giving players a shortcut into the universe. A detailed description of a starship’s interior – how it is laid out, along with the functions for all of the areas – is also included within this Part. The remainder of Part 1 is devoted to short stories which illustrate life in this universe. From the farmboy to the xenoarchaeologist, we look at individuals from various backgrounds to help you find the right feel for characters that you might play, and to better understand what it’s like to live in the universe. Part 2: Character Creation This Part will guide the reader through the creation of a character, from beginning to end. It explains all of the Statistics relating to your character: Attributes (natural ability), Skills (learned skills), Derived Stats (physical and mental limits) and Specialities (extra abilities). Part 3: Weapons, Equipment and Vehicles This Part is an equipment guide – including weapons, ground vehicles and spaceships. It’s recommended that items chosen are tailored to each session, rather than being chosen permanently for the character – it’s always possible to re-equip when you return to your ship! Part 4: The Era d10 Rule Set This Part defines the rules of the game. Combat rules are separated for ease of access, and flow charts are included here to help players and GMs through the necessary decisions in Combat. You’ll also find a detailed description of what Skills and Attributes might be paired for, along with examples. Part 5: For the GM This part is intended for the GM only. It contains example sessions, separated into campaigns, which cover many possibilities in the Triplanetary Confederation. These examples include success and failure criteria and a story reference for each one, to ensure that running the sessions will be as smooth as possible without defining specifics that restrain the GM. There is also a section which features general advice for running this game, including how to integrate the feeling of betrayal into the setting, as well as some tips on speeding up Combat for large groups! The other sections of this part detail secrets of the universe, containing ideas for things which could be revealed to the players, and worked examples of Skill use and Combat. Appendices This part contains reference materials, including suggested enemy Statistics and example playable characters for players who want more guidance.

core rulebook 2

Part 1: The Triplanetary Confederation

Section 1: The Current Situation The Triplanetary Confederation is in a time of expansion. With recent successes both in and out of the Sol System, the admiralty has decided to push outward once again, exploring space in a way that has not been done since before the Interplanetary War. You are a part of this massive effort, which is sending huge starships through hendecaspace to the nearby stars, with the stated goal of not only exploration, but to seek out lost human colonies which are far-flung, like the one found by Alamo on Ragnarok. The Triplanetary Confederation seems to be behind its rivals at this time – the UN of Earth has already established several colonies in its “Trust Territory” and the Lunar Republic seems to be one step ahead of both other major factions in the Sol System, having contacted several colonies already, offering them alliances. Even worse, the Triplanetary Fleet is still relatively new and unsteady. Many of the members of the planetary militias which came together believe that they would be better off alone, or seek to gain an upper hand for their world within the organisation. Add to that the fact that the Lunar Republic has spies everywhere… and the UN may well have the most expert spies of all – very few have been discovered. With even Captains facing assassination attempts on their own ships, choosing to explore space at this time might seem like a foolish move. The call of space seems worth the risk, however… It’s clear that if the Triplanetary Confederation is to survive and not be consumed by its rivals, it will have to expand and find new allies. What will you find out there?

CORE RULEBOOK 4

part 1: the universe Section 2: Factions

The Triplanetary Confederation The Triplanetary Confederation was born late one night, in a deserted classroom, with four signatures on a piece of paper: representatives from Mars, Callisto, Titan and Venus. All of them agreed to join forces against the United Nations, even as crowds outside celebrated the overthrow of the local Earth garrison and the birth of the Martian Republic. The UN’s conquest of Venus shortly thereafter brought few changes in the principles agreed upon that day, though a host of vengeful refugees would flood the free worlds over the coming months. Initially, the three worlds signed a series of mutual trade and defence treaties, but it rapidly became apparent that thoughts of the three worlds maintaining independence from each other were impossible. Their populations were too small, their economies too fragile and, even if they should win the war, they would remain minor powers, vulnerable to control by either the Lunar Republic or the United Nations. The Triplanetary Confederation was the agreed answer. The three governments formed a single government, based on Mars, which would serve to co-ordinate foreign, defence and trade relationships between the three worlds, as well as direct control of any colony too small to manage its own affairs. Neither Mars nor Callisto was willing to concede too much to the new government, each fearing that the other would seek to impose its own traditions and ideals on the rest. A single currency was even agreed upon – it was the United Nations Credit in all but name, artificially tied at parity until the signing of the Treaty of Vesta, but it was a symbol of their independence. The first elections were held under the worst possible conditions: Mars, Callisto and Titan were divided into voting districts, sixty-two in all, each representing a little under a million people, each sending a representative to the Triplanetary Senate, the body tasked with organising and managing the relationship between the worlds. After less than a year, it became apparent that a true head of state was required, despite resistance from the Chairman of Callisto and the Governor of Mars. Elections for the first President of the Triplanetary Confederation were held soon thereafter, to serve single six-year terms of office, able to stand for re-election no more than once. It was a tough fight, but the Martian candidate, Theodore Koslov, won by a narrow margin, pledging to select the bulk of his Cabinet from Callisto in order to secure victory. That this accession was conducted peacefully was the first test of the new alliance; that his successor, Louise DePaul, a Callistan, took office with no disruption was a greater one. Between them, these two leaders would see the Confederation through the Interplanetary War. Though the three worlds did all they could to retain their independence, the exigences of war drew them far closer than they had originally intended. The economies being totally intermeshed was the only thing that saved them as resource shortages hit home. The three militaries were also forced to work together to survive the conflict, leading to the formation of the Combined Chiefs of Staff. These representatives of the Martian Space Service, Callistan Orbital Patrol and Titan Militia were assigned to work directly with each other and the President to co-ordinate the war effort. Years later, the Triplanetary Fleet and the Triplanetary Espatier Corps would join this body, the former serving as Permanent Chairman. Despite the interference of the Martian and Callistan Parliaments, the worlds began to merge, meshing together as an evertighter community. The tacit approval of the Titanian Assembly, which was the first to adopt the pragmatic viewpoint that only benefit would be realised from a closer alliance, was the driving force behind this. In truth, Titan had little choice as the least populous and wealthy participants in the alliance, but its representatives worked cleverly, showing others the mutual benefit of such an organisation. At first, it was shared customs protocols, although adjustments were applied to the legal code and a unified Triplanetary Supreme Court was adopted as a final-stage court of appeal. It took very little time for the corporate entities of the region to throw their weight behind the new alliance. Many had feared that the colonies would take very divergent paths, so any promise of cooperation and a smoother financial environment was to be encouraged. That the three worlds and their dependencies would constitute a free trade area was enshrined in the Triplanetary Constitution, a right bitterly defended by the corporate entities, despite the occasional attempts at violations by the planetary governments. During the War, physical traffic between the three worlds was minimal, other than essential trade and military activity. Most freighters were dedicated to supporting the space fleets, or were converted to join the battle and there was a perpetual shortage of spacers to man what few ships there were. A typical crew was often described as, ‘Grandad and Grandson’ – those too old or too young to serve in the military. Constant raiding by enemy forces only worsened the situation, but the communication links served to tighten relationships between the worlds, preparing the way for the onset of peace. When the ceasefire came, it was the Triplanetary Senate that negotiated the terms. Although each of the planetary parliaments possessed a theoretical veto, it amounted to little more than an excuse for a collection of elderly politicians to rant at an increasingly-disinterested public. The people of the three worlds had been freed from the United Nations and that was more than sufficient for war-weary populations, who were no longer interested in the political minutiae. Upon the resumption of regular trade, the Triplanetary economy boomed, bolstered by the return of freighters to civilian operation. A series of auctions of ex-military hardware led to the creation of a dozen new major freight companies, which in turn allowed the corporations who had supported the war and the veterans who had fought it to scatter all across known space, spreading the influence of the Triplanetary Confederation far and wide. Gradually and cautiously, the Senate accumulated more powers, careful not to step too far, but relegating the planetary governments to a status analogous to that of the states of the Brittanic Federation or the individual States of United America in the times before planetary unification – the minor governments increasingly became stepping stones to higher office.

Battlecruiser alamo 5

Section 2: Factions The Confederation gained a life of its own among the citizens, its flag becoming a proud emblem of the freedom they had attained at a terrible price. The last ten years have been primarily spent in consolidation. It was quickly recognised that the short-lived economic boom could not last, and much of the tax revenue was earmarked to put the economy on a more stable footing. Ample support was given to the colonies to shorten the eventual recession, which would hit them hardest. Military spending, on the other hand, fell to a minimal level, despite increasing fears that the United Nations might find itself emboldened to launch an attack. These were finally dismissed with the formation of the Triplanetary Fleet. Current Activities With the survival of the Confederation established, the primary goal remains the same: to resist the United Nations and its continued attempts to undermine and destroy the fledgling government. More than that, though, a greater dream has begun to rise, one that sees the Confederation as the sole democracy in human space. There is a feeling of responsibility to spread its dream and ideal of freedom across the stars, overcoming the manifold tyrannies being encountered beyond. Some have objected, calling this a return to ‘manifest destiny’ but a majority of the Senate holds the firm viewpoint that the Confederation must expand if it is to survive. It is clear that such expansion can only come among the stars, so plans have been drawn up for aggressive exploration efforts, designed to last well into the next decade. With an array of new starships rivalling those of the Lunar Republic, making maximum use of the hard work undertaken to reinforce the civilian economy, these plans are no longer seen as unrealistic by the majority of the population. There are still many who dream of returning to Earth as conquerors, liberating the ‘slave’ population and running up the black-and-green flag of the Confederation, but no military tactician has ever devised a realistic way of conquering Earth, nor is one likely in the near future, unless the strategic situation changes totally. The ‘Hawk’ faction still presses the Senate for war with both the United Nations and Lunar Republic at every occasion. Fortunately, however, its supporters generally find themselves in a minority. Elections are pending in the near future for the appointment of a new President to replace the currently-serving President Bradley. The two candidates are of opposed ideologies, one wishing to strengthen the Triplanetary Fleet and push out into the stars, the other preferring to stay close to home, to continue to build the foundations of the Triplanetary economy and postpone the conquest of space for another day. One thing is certain: the next election will determine the path of the Confederation for the rest of the century and maybe even its eventual fate... Prominent Figures President John Bradley has served the Confederation for his entire adult life, first as an officer in the Martian Space Service, then as one of the few to volunteer as a liaison officer with the Orbital Patrol, and later in the Senate, finally winning the Presidency six years ago. He has dedicated his term of office to the creation of the unified Triplanetary Fleet, believing it to be both an economic and military necessity. However, his dedication to this goal has created sufficient enemies to prevent re-election. As a result, he has chosen to use his remaining influence to encourage the election of a successor who will continue his work, rather than destroy it. General Thomas Harper is one of the most famous military figures on Mars, serving as their representative to the Combined Chiefs of Staff for many years, and is currently running for the Triplanetary Senate after resigning his commission. Having served as one of the leading supporters of the unified Triplanetary Fleet and as an outspoken advocate of increased unification, he faces tough opposition, both politically and personally. He acts as a ‘lightning rod’ for the Separatists, who have constantly attacked his character and record – a move which has backfired drastically, as those who have served with him rush to his defence. He is hotly tipped as a potential future President, though has so far rejected calls to stand for that office. Lieutenant-Captain Daniel Marshall has become the ‘poster child’ for the Triplanetary Fleet, with successes at Ragnarok and Desdemona to his name. His reluctant public relations tour led to a surge of applicants to join the fleet, causing the Patriot Party to seriously cultivate him as a potential candidate for the Senate. The party reluctantly conceded defeat, at least for the moment, though it is generally thought that he will be dragooned into public office at some point in the future. Senator Theodore Koslov, the first President, opted to stand down after a single term of office. He has reportedly regretted that move ever since, preaching to any who will listen that the ideals he had fought for, worked for, are being betrayed. He has adopted a mild version of the Separatist cause, demanding that the Triplanetary Confederation’s government should return at least some of its powers to the planetary administrations. He won re-election to the Senate six years ago, switching to the Technocratic Party to attain office, and has been suggested as a potential Presidential pick – having never run for re-election, he is eligible for a second term. President Bradley is fighting this, stating his belief publicly that Senator Koslov would be a disaster for the future of the Confederation. Even so, Koslov does have the support of growing numbers on Mars and Callisto.

CORE RULEBOOK 6

part 1: the universe

Triplanetary Fleet The Triplanetary Fleet truly originated back in the days of the Interplanetary War and the network of mutual defence treaties signed by the worlds which stood together against the UN. While each world maintained its own defence forces as a matter of course, they had to work together in order to survive when fighting their enemy. Fleets would frequently merge under the command of a single figure, although the individual was usually chosen more for political than tactical reasons. Unsurprisingly, when the war came to an end, so did this sort of co-operation – the need was gone. While few openly advocated breaking the alliance, most of the politically powerful individuals worked to restrict the scope of the unified government. That expressed itself most strongly in terms of the military forces of the three worlds. Where there had been unity, now each kept themselves confined to their own affairs, jealously guarding only their spheres of influence. Even matters such as logistic supply were split, despite the greater expense and risks of non-standardisation. The ultimate effect of this move was to largely restrict the Triplanetary Confederation to operations within Sol, with neither the Martian Space Service nor Callisto Orbital Patrol having the resources to support large-scale interstellar expeditions by themselves. They were able to arrange guardships on rotation for the few facilities that operated in extrasolar space under the Triplanetary Confederation banner, however, one of the few areas that the governments could agree, but it was increasingly obvious that the situation had to change, and soon. In 2164, there were two ‘sparks’ that highlighted these problems. The first was the ‘Red vs Blue’ exercise, carried out exclusively on computer by a collection of Martian and Titanian officers. This exercise proved conclusively that, if hostilities were renewed with the United Nations, the forces of the Triplanetary Confederation would be defeated. This was, naturally, classified as Top Secret, but still sent shockwaves through the members of the Triplanetary Senate, many of whom had fought during the War, and knew well the strategic and tactical situation. The second took place far more publicly at Proxima Centauri: the Martian Space Service guard ship on duty, the Battlecruiser Gilgamesh, learned of a collision between two ships, one Martian and one Callistan. The ship’s commander instantly elected to help his countrymen, even when he was made aware that the other ship was in far greater danger. Thirty-two Calistans died as a result of this choice and the political fallout was significant: hot-heads in the Callistan Parliament called for court-martials and reparations for the dead. President Stevens was able to gain agreement for a compromise. Even after all that had taken place, neither the Martian Space Service nor Callistan Orbital Patrol would yield ground within Sol System, but there was a general agreement that only a unified force could effectively defend Triplanetary interests in extrasolar space. The Triplanetary Fleet was formed, despite the strenuous objections of much of the military, with an exclusive mandate to operate beyond the orbit of Saturn. From then onwards, the home defence forces would retain their traditional responsibilities, but everything else was now to be covered by the unified Fleet. The Titan Militia, unlike the forces of Mars and Callisto, wholeheartedly supported this move, offering to essentially disband to form the heart of the new organisation. This was a clever strategic play that, if successful, would have offered it massive influence over the Triplanetary Fleet. In response, Martian and Callistan Senators insisted on a quota of command officers from the three worlds. This decision was extremely unpopular among service personnel, but proved to be the compromise that got the Triplanetary Fleet off the ground. From the beginning, it was obvious that the new Fleet would be run on a shoestring budget. The money they had didn’t allow for ship construction, at first, leading many to believe that the experiment would fail before the end of the year. The Planetary Fleets were only willing to provide those ships they had little use for: the Thermopylae-class Battlecruisers and what Mariner-class Scoutships. The latter were barely a concession – they were too old to see significant service in the War, but were argued to be still serviceable as guardships. The Fleet needed more than combat vessels, however. A pair of tankers were dragged out of mothballs to be put into service by the new fleet as auxiliaries. Additionally, a quartet of Rhodan-class Freighters were essentially “donated” by a consortium of shipping companies on a five-year lease – the major freight lines were by far the biggest supporters of the concept of a unified Fleet, as they became increasingly concerned over the growing risk of attacks on the interstellar traffic. The Triplanetary Confederation gratefully accepted the support, fully aware that commercial routes were becoming evermore vital to the well-being of the economy. Mariner Station was volunteered by the Martian Space Service as a ‘home base’ for the Triplanetary Fleet, with responsibility for the security of it and a handful of other installations also falling under the remit of the new organisation. Recruitment was initially difficult, with most of the planetary services doing everything in their power to ensure that they kept the best personnel for themselves. All that could be offered by the new Fleet were quick promotions, ensuring that the average age of a ship commander was almost a decade younger than in the more established fleets. This, in turn, led to concerns that inexperience would be the new force’s downfall. The first ship commissioned was Thermopylae, the first of the Battlecruisers, launched onto a cruise of local space designed to do little more than show the flag. Alamo was next, under the command of Captain Marshall, and it was this ship’s first mission that would do more than anything else to demonstrate that the Triplanetary Fleet had a chance to endure. Separatist forces, concerned that the new Fleet would lead to their cause being defeated, attempted to seize Alamo and ensure that her mission failed, launching a mutiny that briefly took over the ship before Captain Marshall regained control. Returning with the news that a new world was seeking membership in the Confederation – the rediscovered colony of Ragnarok – and that he had prevented the Lunar Republic from establishing a base close to their territory was a massive success. When politicians pointed out that an enemy base there would have blocked long-term exploration and expansion, public opinion swung dramatically in favour of the Triplanetary Fleet, and everything changed almost overnight.

Battlecruiser alamo 7

Section 2: Factions There was no longer any question of a trial period; the Triplanetary Fleet proved its worth, and it became clear that it was the future of the Confederation’s military. The fact that the Separatist forces had resorted to terrorism and murder in a bid to accomplish their goals quieted many of the more extreme voices in the Senate. The government was therefore able to cancel all support for ship construction for the planetary fleets, instead offering funding for a new generation of hendecaspace-capable ships for the Triplanetary Fleet. A Fleet Academy was founded, and a dozen fighter squadrons were transferred to the various ships of the Fleet. The planetary forces now face what the Fleet has overcome: slow stagnation and decay, with many now seeking belated transfers to the new organisation. Plans are afoot for new Cruiser squadrons, a new generation of Scoutships and potentially even battleships to match the mighty United Nations Monitors. There is also a strong push for a new wave of exploration under the aegis of the Triplanetary Fleet, to transform the Confederation into a truly major power. As it stands, the Fleet is in a state of flux. Efforts are currently in progress to transform a ramshackle collection of rogue officers into something resembling a cohesive organisation, though many of those same officers are resisting the change, reluctant to cede their newly won freedom. Nevertheless, order is beginning to come from the chaos. Organisation Deep Space Command is the most prestigious posting of the Fleet. It includes the six Battlecruisers already assigned and a similar number of Scoutships. Based on Mariner Station, the group is flourishing under the watchful gaze of Commodore Tramiel, who was able to hand-pick his commanders despite the political limitations imposed upon him. A veteran ship commander himself, he insists that his field officers must have absolute authority to do as they see fit, as the communications lag when exploring deep space is an insuperable barrier to central control. The Commodore has gone out of his way to keep his part of the Fleet to a minimum number of personnel, with a high percentage of veteran officers kept home to provide the benefit of their greater experience. Many of these are past official retirement age, operating on waivers, though a few younger officers have been brought in to be mentored, preparing them to command ships of their own in the near future. While it could be argued that Deep Space Command, in a very real sense, is the Fleet, this is becoming less the case as the organisation matures. Fighter Command is the newest part of the Fleet, responsible for organising the dozen squadrons recently assigned by the Senate. Most are assigned to station defence or training, but two squadrons have been divided among the Battlecruisers. These assignments are prized, thanks to having the greatest chance of seeing real combat.  Currently, Commodore Ivanov is fighting for the survival and expansion of his command, with bold plans for the establishment of a new flight school, as well as construction of a new generation of fighters to replace those not updated since the War. He is facing increasing resistance, however, as the budgetary requirements soar. Deep Space Command has been an unexpected ally in this quest, though Commodore Tramiel has made it quite clear that he expects Fighter Command to assume a subordinate role, rather than the prestigious force that it was in the war. Currently, Commodore Ivanov is attempting to determine whether it is worth bartering the soul of his organisation to keep it alive. Station Command looks likely to become larger than the rest of the Fleet put together if it continues to expand at the current rate. Initially, it consisted of a handful of officers and men under Lieutenant-Major Fulci, working as the administrative personnel of Mariner Station. However, it has increasingly become obvious that the requirements of the Fleet will mean vast expansion in the number of outposts and stations under direct military control. Already, both Shakespeare and Carpenter Stations have been placed under Fleet administration, and the construction of Hunter Station at Ragnarok has further expanded this department. A new series of modular outposts that can rapidly be assembled as forward Fleet bases are being designed, a plan originally prepared during the War. In addition, several obsolete stations, abandoned for years, have been offered to the Fleet at cost in order to provide an additional framework. Colonel Fulci has already ascended two ranks and seems set to be the youngest flag officer in the Fleet in the near future, though there are some concerns that his inexperience could prove costly, and that his staff and advisors are the ones truly running the show. Training Command’s function has recently become far simpler. Originally, the Fleet was intended to recruit through a combination of skimming from the three Planetary Service Academies and through promotion from within, with several promising senior enlisted already offered commissions in the new Fleet as part of the retention program. Attempting to mesh often-incompatible curricula has proven a significant challenge, however, and Training Command has struggled to ensure a uniform outcome across personnel.  The recent decision to form a dedicated Triplanetary Fleet Academy has made Commodore Bradley’s task enormously easier, even though the reality of the alliance will mean that campuses will be spread across the three worlds, rather than within a single building. The first class will enter training in September 2168, and a number of older cadets have voluntarily transferred from the Martian and Callistan academies to fill out the ranks. Logistic Command will be seeing equally rapid expansion in the near future. Currently, it possesses only a handful of freighters and tankers, all of them on regular supply runs. As the reach of the Triplanetary Confederation expands further into deep space, however, this will have to evolve significantly. There are already concerns that the Fleet has insufficient auxiliaries to accomplish their mission, and that the ships they possess are far too disparate to truly work This is Counter-Admiral Seifu’s primary concern, and he is currently attempting an ‘end-run’ to the Triplanetary Senate, hoping to convince the senators to initiate a program of “attack freighter” construction as part of long-held investment plans in civilian shipbuilding. In this he is being opposed by Commodore Tramiel, who believes that the combat fleet must come first, as well as many of the shipping conglomerates, who see lucrative government contracts being taken from them as the auxiliary fleet expands.

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Section 2: Factions

Martian Space Service Background

The Martian Space Service was born in the fire of war, an organisation created almost overnight in response to the desperate need to build a military service while the United Nations Space Fleet made its way towards Mars. There was no question of building new warships, not in the timescales available, although a handful of military craft were taken by Martian forces in surprise attacks at the onset of hostilities. The only answer which allowed Mars to have any defence lay in the thousands of orbital Shuttles, the sole resource possessed in any numbers. A hasty conversion process began – every shipyard on the planet worked around the clock to fit hardpoints, sensors and any military equipment that could be salvaged at the time, while training programs hastily prepared pilots for battle. When the Battle for Mars began, more than a thousand fighters rose into the air to face the enemy, supported by a handful of orbital defence stations. The fighting raged for days, wreaking a bloody toll on the hastily-trained volunteers, but the defenders were finally victorious. The survivors returned home as heroes while the remnants of the United Nations Fleet fled back to Earth to lick their wounds. Having bought themselves time, the troops of the Martian Space Service managed to organise themselves, beginning the conversion of larger ships to military purposes, as well as designing the first generation of purpose-built fighters. Since the Battle for Mars, fighter combat has been at the heart of the Martian Space Service. The role of the fighter pilot is one that all enlisted long to take. The initial focus of warship development, therefore, was focused on carriers, converting a series of huge bulk freighters to each carry a hundred fighters. In the early days of the War, this strategy was devastatingly effective, but as the United Nations Fleet learned to counter it, casualties mounted, culminating in the disaster that was the Third Battle of Vesta – where four carriers and hundreds of fighters were lost in less than an hour. In many ways, the Martian Space Service never recovered from that disaster. So many experienced spacers were lost, that the heart of the force seemed to be ripped out. The carriers were retired from service and a renewed emphasis was placed on Battlecruiser operations in deep space, with fighters now relegated to either defensive roles or raiding operations. For the remaining years of the war, the Martian Space Service retrenched, slowly rebuilding its forces for a new offensive, one that officials hoped would restore at least some of the servicemen’s pride and give them another chance to show what their fighters could do. The War ended first, however, and the last glorious battle they hoped for never happened. While the Martian Space Service had countless supporters back home, funding rapidly began to fade, and while the fighters proved ideal for convoy protection and patrol, there was an increasing sense that the once-proud service was now seeking a new role. There were some suggestions that it should adopt a similar stance to that of the Callisto Orbital Patrol, focusing on rescue and relief, but the fighter-obsessed commanders bitterly resisted such a move. Instead, they opted on the design of a new generation of fighters, now capable of operating in both air and space, and prepared plans for a new carrier design to transport them through deep space. This, too, did not finish in time. With the birth of the Triplanetary Fleet, funding is falling, leaving the new ship designs on the drawing board. The future of the Martian Space Service is doubtful, to say the least. Goals The Martian Space Service seeks to defend the Republic of Mars in particular – and the Triplanetary Confederation in general – from all enemies, external and internal... and to survive the birth of the Triplanetary Fleet. Current Activities At present, the Martian Space Service is working to delay the growth of the Triplanetary Fleet by any means available, hoping to buy time in order to get the new carrier fleet into service. To this end, all senior officers are cashing in every political favour they have to disrupt Fleet operations, hoping that there might still be a chance of returning to their former glory. Many, however, are resigned to a slow decay, and are instead working to ensure that the Triplanetary Fleet has the strongest possible Martian influence, following the example of the Titan Militia and the Martian Marine Corps. Most of these are working covertly, against the wishes of their superiors. Several of the best officers have already transferred, and the eventual end of the Martian Space Service now seems all-but-inevitable, despite its last, bitter resistance. Prominent Figures General Thomas Calder is the current commander of the Martian Space Service, a highly-decorated veteran and former fighter pilot who has assumed personal control of the ‘Hurricane’ fighter project. He is hoping that the new design will ensure a substantial order that will guarantee the survival of his service. His daughter, Emily, has transferred to the Triplanetary Fleet – he has disowned her as a result, and grows more bitter about the success of the combined service by the day. Despite this, he considers himself a Triplanetary loyalist. Colonel Susan Turner currently commands the 14th Pursuit Squadron, based on Phobos, and considers herself the leader of the faction that seeks to co-opt the Triplanetary Fleet, transforming it into a Martian organisation. She is in deep, quiet negotiations with a series of other mid-rank officers to arrange the total transfer of ten fighter squadrons to the Triplanetary Fleet, hoping to present it to her superiors as a fait accompli, though is facing bitter resistance from many of the other officers aware of her plan. Senator Warren Bradley, General Calder’s predecessor, is the leading advocate of a continued role for the Martian Space Service in the Triplanetary Senate, constantly pushing for increased budgetary commitments, trying to fight for some of the military funding to go to the Martian Space Service rather than being funnelled directly to the Triplanetary Fleet. He is fighting a losing battle and knows it. He is currently considering a presidential run in the hope of settling the question once and for all.

CORE RULEBOOK 10

part 1: the universe

Callisto Orbital Patrol Background The Callisto Orbital Patrol’s origins are non-military. In the first years after colonisation, there were a series of disasters in orbital space, many of which could have been averted had rescue and relief been available. As a result, the struggling colony opted to devote some of their scarce resources to the creation of an orbital watch, tasked with providing such efforts, immediately saving several lives. After only a few years, the remit of the patrol extended throughout the entire Jovian SubSystem, ultimately having responsibility as far as the Jupiter Trojans. The United Nations tolerated the existence of the Patrol, happy that the local government was providing a service they were unwilling to fund themselves, though increasingly became concerned about the traitorous influences within. They were, in fact, proven right, as when the War began, the entire Patrol declared itself as part of the Triplanetary Confederation.  Instantly, the Callisto Orbital Patrol used long-hidden plans to convert itself to a military service, arming their Shuttles and transports using buried caches of weaponry hoarded over the preceding decades. The early attacks on Jupiter were a disaster for the United Nations, and the Patrol was able to secure Jovian space for the bulk of the War. Upon the cessation of hostilities, the Patrol began to revert to its former role, while still keeping its military forces ready for action, maintaining its hard-won interstellar capability. There were serious talks about the Callisto Orbital Patrol becoming the de-facto Triplanetary Fleet, a formation with history going back for decades, rather than the improvised forces Mars had organised, but too many Callistan officers preferred to return to their rescue and relief role.  These same officers strongly resisted unification of the military. They eventually lost the battle in the Senate, however, and were forced to transfer many of their most capable ships and thousands of their officers and men to the Triplanetary Fleet. Since then, the Callisto Orbital Patrol has hoarded its role – and its remaining equipment – jealously, seeking any opportunity to prove its superiority to the Fleet. The discovery of large numbers of Separatists within its ranks was an unwelcome shock that led to a near-instant purge of some surprisingly senior personnel. Some are now rethinking their previous stance, but the attitude of the most senior officers remains the same. Goals The mission of the Callisto Orbital Patrol is to protect and defend Jovian space from any and all dangers, as well as to provide emergency support to spacecraft operating in that area. There is a strong focus on medical and rescue services in the culture of the organisation, even though most senior officers and non-coms are veterans of the Interplanetary War. In addition, the Patrol seeks to defend its current status, and prevent the organisation from sliding into irrelevance as the Triplanetary Fleet ascends. Current Activities The Callistan government has recently sponsored the construction of three new interstellar-capable Cruisers, destined for the Patrol rather than the Triplanetary Fleet. They are designed primarily to operate as rescue and relief craft for the settlements and outposts being planned in deep space: while there is a definite and urgent need for such a service, many senior figures in the military and the government intend that these will serve as a ‘shadow fleet’, designed to maintain some deep-space capability for the Patrol in the event that the Triplanetary Fleet fails. The first of the Cruisers, the Korolev, is currently in the middle of its shakedown cruise, and is scheduled to begin active service in the next few weeks. Work on the others is progressing, but it is generally considered that the future of the program is dependent on the success of the first expedition. The Triplanetary Fleet especially is watching, ready to take control of the ships if the slightest opportunity is presented. At home, the Patrol continues its vital work of protecting the space traffic of the Jovian Sub-System, with additional responsibilities to service and support the numerous outposts and colonist of the outlying moons of Jupiter. Despite their mutual opposition, the Callisto Orbital Patrol serves many of the similar roles as the Triplanetary Fleet does in extrasolar space. The recent loss of personnel and equipment has left the Patrol stretched thinner than it has been for decades, and the government is unwilling to authorise significant recruitment until the future becomes clear. On the political front, senior officers and their supporters in the Callistan Parliament are fighting for the survival of the Patrol, stressing the non-military aspects of the organisation while noting the history and experience behind it. Ultimately, there will only be sufficient funding for either the combined military or the planetary fleets, but not both. As a result, despite a longstanding rivalry, they are finding the Martian Space Service an ally in this fight, as they know just as well that defeat means a slow slide into irrelevance and decay, with relegation to a purely ceremonial role only scant decades distant. Prominent Figures Fleet Commander Dimitri Ryan is the commander of the Callisto Orbital Patrol, operating out of his base on Carter Station. During the War, he commanded Thunderchild on numerous deep-space missions, and was heartbroken when the orders came through to transfer his beloved ship away from the Patrol. As a result, he is determined not to concede any further to the demands of the combined service. He is fighting as hard as he knows how to in a bid to keep the Patrol alive. The Korolev Project was his brainchild, and he has hand-picked the crew personally as the best the Patrol has to offer. Flight Commander Curtis Broussard currently holds a job meant for an officer far higher in rank: Director of Security for the Outer Moons. As such, he is responsible for security and logistic protection across a hundred and nine colonies. With less than a quarter of the personnel he once had, and only half a dozen ships to spare for the entire patrol area, his primary focus is on maintaining law and order as best he can. He has therefore opposed the Korolev Project, seeing it as a waste of resources and personnel that could be better employed at home.

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Section 2: Factions

Titanian Republic Background When the first settlers arrived at Titan, they found a handful of tiny outposts scattered across orbital space, and the beginnings of the resource extraction systems that would eventually provide some of the greatest sources of wealth generation in the system. This original settlement came primarily from the East African Federation, with others from the Indochinese Republic. There was no thought, however, of accepting any control from Earth – the countries responsible had collapsed into chaos while the first wave of settlers was in flight. The voyage itself was similarly ill-fated, with less than six thousand people surviving the nightmarish conditions. While a few other ships would make it to Saturn over the course of the next decade, it was apparent at an early stage that the colony was on its own. That fierce independence would prove a hallmark of the Titanian Republic from the outset. The first pioneer party had done their work well, expanding the outposts in orbit and establishing the first surface station, but conditions were spartan at best. Initially, that pioneer team formed the government when more settlers arrived – a ruthlessly efficient tyranny based on the Jovian model. Within a few years, however, it had fallen apart and was replaced with a democratic system, which essentially remains to this day. Survival was the first priority, and with only a handful of settlers – far fewer than on Mars or Callisto – self-sufficiency was difficult for the fledgling colony. The United Nations was surprisingly helpful in the early days, throwing the majority of the meagre resources dedicated to space exploitation at Saturn. This was not out of altruism: they knew that the hydrocarbons of Titan would be vital to the maintenance of technological civilisation on Earth, and that they needed the assistance and support of the local population if they were going to harvest them with reasonable efficiency. Gradually, as much to prevent interlopers as anything, the Titanians expanded throughout Saturnian space, establishing outposts and settlements on every major moon, and surveying every rock within five million miles. While some mining operations were established, few were profitable enough for export, most only providing raw materials for the colony itself. This proved vital during the Interplanetary War, allowing Titan to operate on its own resources, though the loss of its major market – Earth – caused a depression that lasted for years, even after the Lunar Republic opened trade. The Titanian Republic has never been large, and despite the value of the hydrocarbons in Titan’s atmosphere, resources have always been at a premium. While the United Nations occasionally attempted forced immigration to the region – one more reason that the local population were eager to join the rebellion – this never took hold on a large scale. As a result, Titan has always looked for strong allies who will help defend its independence. It was not surprising, therefore, when the opportunity arose, that Titan became a wholehearted member of the Triplanetary Confederation, willingly throwing its support and its economy behind the new organisation. During the War, Titan became a vital source of raw materials, and the source of much of the trade with the Lunar Republic. In the peace negotiations, access to Titanian hydrocarbons was a critical element of the talks and even today Titan is the one place where United Nations citizens are still to be found in any numbers – trade factors and spacers, primarily. The world still has its independence, but looks longingly at the wider galaxy, yearning to reach out to the endless frontier beyond. Goals The Titanians’ current goals are to strengthen the Triplanetary Confederation, and to build alternative sources of income than to the hydrocarbons of their atmosphere, as a precaution against future economic shifts. Current Activity The current objectives of the Titanian government are twofold: to support the nascent Triplanetary Confederation in any way it can, and to grow the Titanian economy, reducing the reliance on the hydrocarbons in Titan’s atmosphere. To that end, government officials are heavily investing in extrasolar projects, ensuring that Titanian companies have the support they need to defeat their competitors from Mars, Callisto, Luna and even Earth. A longer-term goal is to locate suitable worlds for colonisation, preferably with other valuable resources, and Titanian senators are heavily pushing for the long-range exploration program. Titan Militia Unlike the other planetary space fleets, the Titan Militia does not seek an extrasolar role, instead focusing on Saturnian space, operating a series of small frigates and fighter squadrons. It is heavily dependent on cooperation with the Martian Space Service for training and procurement, to the point that it was suggested during the war that the two services should merge. While this never happened, the Titan Militia has accepted that it will shortly be reduced to an exclusively ceremonial role, with all operational functions to be transferred to the Triplanetary Fleet. Prominent Figures Bekele Dejene is the current President of Titan. The extremely popular politician has carried the largely ceremonial role for twenty years, including during the War. He is the only head of state to serve in the front lines during the fighting – as a lieutenant in the Militia, serving in a staff rather than command role in several critical engagements. He was one of those with primary responsibility for the formation of the Triplanetary Confederation, and pushed for the creation of the Triplanetary Fleet, seeing it as the best option for long-term survival of his people in an increasingly hostile universe. Tizita Giday runs the Titan Development Corporation, a fund dedicated to supporting all extrasolar activities run by Titan-based corporations and individuals. Her goal is nothing less than to make Titan the primary economic power of the Confederation. To that end, she seeks to leverage the considerable economic might of the moon. She sees the Callistans as major rivals in her development projects and, while being generally supportive of the concept of the Triplanetary Fleet, she takes every opportunity to place Titanian citizens in key leadership roles, pioneering the transfer of numerous reservists from the militia to active duty status to facilitate this.

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part 1: the universe

Belt People’s Republic Background The origins of the Belt People’s Republic date back to the earliest days of spaceflight, to the megacorporations who commenced asteroid mining in the early days of the 21st century. Each was allotted rights to millions of miles of space, with rival governments fighting bitterly over the territory. Ultimately, the greatest investment came from Japanese corporations, who utilised advanced robotics to create man-tended installations that harvested millions of tons of metal destined for orbital factories. The onset of the Third World War and the collapse of national governments led to waves of refugees fleeing Earth, many from orbital stations under threat from the anti-satellite weapons unleashed by major governments as the fighting worsened. The chaos on Earth made the space-based industries more important than ever, and those that survived the war were quickly working far beyond their designed capacity in a desperate bid to save as many lives as possible. Some even feared that civilisation on Earth might prove impossible to sustain and, while conditions on Earth were restored far faster than anyone could have expected, it was immediately apparent that the Belt was going to be critical to the maintenance of life on Earth for the foreseeable future. Ultimately, that meant tightened control, and the enforced nationalisation of the companies still operating, over the strident protests of the remnants of the Japanese and Korean governments. The ‘shells’ of the companies still remained, allowing the workers to be treated as contract labourers rather than citizens, and it was in the Belt that the curse of indentured labour began, some individuals forcibly signed up to pay for the debts of their fathers, or their grandfathers. The standard of living fell and the life expectancy along with it until, ultimately, the inevitable result was revolution. On Mars, Callisto and Titan, the revolution was relatively bloodless, but this was not the case in the Belt. Here, a hundred different settlements fought for their freedom, some battles lasting for months as pocket-sized armies warred their way along tunnels excavated long ago, or drifted from one asteroid to the next on surprise hit-and-run raids. Ultimately, though the battles waged for months, the Belt People’s Republic was formed from the victory, completing the process of collectivisation. The War only accelerated the Belt’s already precipitous economic decline, and matters are only worsening as more extrasolar markets open up. Currently, the newly-established Belt’s People Republic has a choice to make – does it resign itself to managing a slow decline and depopulation to sustainable levels, or gamble all that it has left in a desperate, lastditch attempt to arrest the decline? Recently, an opportunity has opened up with a Belt prospector discovering a source of valuable transuranic elements on one of Uranus’ moons and, while this discovery must be shared with the Lunar Republic, it will at least give the government more time to find a sustainable solution to their ongoing crisis. Goals Belt People’s Republic aims to save the Belt, by whatever means necessary. While it is thought likely that the Triplanetary Confederation will prove a strong ally in this regard, independence has been considered as an option by some hotheads. Unless some viable means of revitalizing the economy can be found, however, the Belt is destined to remain a puppet state for centuries. Current Activity The recent surge of wealth from the discovery on Desdemona is being heavily invested in new opportunities, using some of the actions of the Titan Development Corporation as a guide. A series of expeditions are planned to unexploited systems, hoping that modern sensors will locate hitherto undiscovered resources. In addition, work at home continues to improve refining techniques, the University of Ceres starting a large-scale project towards nanomining, a technique which was, until recently, written off as impractical. People’s Space Force The Belt operates a small space fleet, also following the Martian model – using a trio of old-model frigates as the core of the force. These are bolstered by a couple of dozen smaller patrol ships, twelve-man craft designed for year-long circumnavigations of the Belt, monitoring for illegal activity. There have been several proposals to merge the Space Force with the Triplanetary Fleet, and several liaison officers have been assigned to each organisation in a bid to smooth a planned transition period, but the People’s Representatives have yet to make their final decision on the future of the service. Prominent Figures Miyake Yasunobu has recently become President of the Belt, elected on a platform of reform and revitalisation, one shared with many previous holders of this office. An economist of considerable note, his personal view is that the Belt is doomed unless it can significantly increase its tax base within the next decade: the conditions of many of its settlements have degraded to a sufficient degree that it will soon be forced to evacuate many long-inhabited outposts to Mars or Callisto. If such an economic collapse is inevitable, he has resolved to do all he can to improve the long-term prospects of his people within the Triplanetary Confederation, even if that means leaving their homes forever. Aoki Koko, leader of the Progressive Technocrats, has lost an election to the presidency on four occasions, and has now assumed the role of a conspiracy theorist, accusing Miyake and his people of selling out the Belt to the Martian corporations – a claim which, on the surface, has at least a degree of truth to it. She is calling for independence for the Belt, for the Republic holdings on Desdemona to be seized, and for Uranus to be claimed as a colony of the Belt, so that the wealth can be used to establish a series of outposts in other systems. While her policies do not withstand serious scrutiny, she is growing increasingly popular among the people and many fear the results of the next election if she remains a candidate.

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part 1: the universe

Triplanetary Espatiers The origins of the Triplanetary Espatiers date back to the earliest days of the War, the first few weeks when it was feared that United Nations occupation forces could arrive at any moment, with nothing to stop them. While engineers and spacers laboured to prepare an improvised space fleet to deal with them, a militia was organised on the ground. In most cases, it comprised almost the same the security forces that Earth had originally dispatched, many of whom switched sides at the onset of hostilities. It was obvious they would struggle to put up a serious level of resistance to the hardened troops the UN would send, but within three months a quarter of a million men and women had been placed under arms. They all received at least some military training and were ready to fight to the last in the defence of their world. The hope was that if the Fleet was unable to stop the enemy forces from landing, they could at least make holding the planet too expensive a proposition to justify. As the two mighty fleets battled in orbit for the future of humanity, the troops on the surface looked up at the stars, watching and waiting, knowing that they might be called to action at any moment. When it became obvious that, despite all expectations, the Martian space fleet had beaten back the enemy, with news of similar victories at Callisto and Pallas soon following, the population celebrated: the war had clearly turned in favour of the rebels. Nevertheless, news of the fall of Venus was sufficient to keep a reduced version of the militia under arms, scaling back to a permanent force of thirty thousand men. This happened despite the protests of the newly-formed Martian Space Service, the leaders of which were concerned about the use of essential war materials by a ground force that they believed would never see action. Many figures in the militia agreed, to an extent, and an alternative was devised: under the command of Master Sergeant Sam Morgan – latterly of the United Nations Marine Corps – five hundred men began to train as the first dedicated space marines in history, the Martian Marine Corps. Immediately, it was realised that the conventional training program would be ineffective. Fighting in free fall requires a different set of skills and techniques, and the instructors were forced to learn as fast as their pupils as they struggled to put a force together. At first, the Marine Corps was confined to defensive operations: its forces were stationed on the newly-constructed starships to defend against boarding actions, or as garrisons on captured outposts. The Second Battle of Vesta changed all that. The first major victory, at the start of the war, had been the capture of Vesta by rebel forces. This was largely accomplished by a group of rogue, teenage hackers who were able to dig into the heart of the security network and turn it against the occupation army. This only lasted for a few months, however: a blockade forced the population of the asteroid to surrender. Vesta held a key strategic significance for the rebels and the Combined Chiefs of Staff wanted it, but they knew that to take it, they would have to put boots on the ground. The newly-promoted Colonel Morgan volunteered to place four companies of his marines at the disposal of the fleet, knowing that his troops were inadequately trained, and that many of them would likely fall in battle, but also knowing that they were desperate to play a more major role in the War. This was the best chance his organisation was likely to have to justify its worth to the Confederation. After much deliberation, the decision was taken to proceed with the attack. Smashing through the cordon of ships surrounding the asteroid was easier than expected. A cunning decoy operation under the command of Colonel Tramiel had seen to that, pulling half a dozen of the major fleet ships to the Mars Trojans to fight a battle that would never take place. Within three hours, the occupying fleet had either fled or been destroyed. The garrison on the asteroid, however, refused to surrender, knowing that relief was on the way. Colonel Morgan himself was the first man to reach the asteroid, and attained the singular honour of being the first Martian marine to die in action, three and a half minutes after he stepped through the hacked airlock to engage the enemy. His sacrifice spurred his men on, and they fought their way through the asteroid, room by room and corridor by corridor, the local population rising to assist them as the fleet outside helplessly looked on. It took forty-one days, but Acting Colonel Popov – who had been a First Lieutenant when the attack began – finally accepted the surrender of the remnants of the United Nations forces, securing Vesta for the rebellion once more. The casualties had been, if anything, worse than expected. Twenty-one percent of the attacking force was dead, twice that many injured, many of those suffering wounds that would prevent them from ever fighting again. The worth of the Martian Marine Corps was established, however. The survivors of the battle returned to Mars and spent the next year engaged in a rapid expansion program: they reached five thousand strong in less than twelve months. The Corps then returned to the fray, fighting battles all over known space. From then onwards, every Battlecruiser carried a full platoon in hastily-prepared barracks, the troopers serving as experts at boarding actions and assault operations. They would slice through transports and outposts with ease and serve on raiding missions that could last for years. Closer to home, the Marine Corps would participate in the attacks on Ceres, Iapetus, and Triton, and each time earn greater and greater glories. Callisto chose not to develop a ground force along these lines, preferring instead to specialise exclusively in space combat, trusting in its Security Service to act as a suitable garrison for its ships and stations. Titan contributed a large number of people to the Martian Marines, rather than trying to form a similar organisation from scratch. By the end of the War, the original five hundred had expanded to twenty thousand, with dozens of battle honours to their name. There was no question of disbanding the service at the end of the fighting – in fact, the Marine Corps suffered the fewest cuts of any military service, though its establishment strength would be reduced to eight thousand within months.

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Section 2: Factions Its role continued to evolve during peace time, when it assumed responsibility for customs control and border protection, in addition to its previous duties, serving a similar role in Martian orbital space to that of the Callistan Patrol. The situation remained that way for eight years, until the decision was taken to form the Triplanetary Fleet. The combined service would, if taken to its logical conclusion, lead to the end of the planetary services. While the Martian Space Service and the Callisto Orbital Patrol bitterly resisted the change, now-General Popov took a different approach, throwing his whole weight behind the new organisation, on the condition that it included a dedicated ground forces branch. The new Marine Corps would be structured in the same way the Martian Marine Corps had been to keep the traditions of the service alive into the future. Naturally, the politicians and military figures advocating a combined service instantly accepted, grateful for any help they could get, and the Triplanetary Espatier Corps was formed, the name being derived from the French to help distinguish it from current organisations. Two companies of Martian Marine Corps were transferred over, with care taken to ensure that Titanians were strongly represented in those chosen, and a recruiting office was opened on Callisto in a bid to attract representatives from the region. The Callistan government, sensing how this would likely turn out, ordered the office closed days after it opened, having only signed up five volunteers for training. Instead, a hundred hand-picked Security Service personnel were offered to provide strong representation for Callisto in the Espatiers. This began a fresh round of protests from the Martian government, and when the dust settled three months later, the Callistans were beginning a training program under Martian direction, with the assurance that they would regain their former ranks as soon as they had completed the necessary adaptation. Despite some initial concerns about the ability of the Security Servicemen, the Callistans had chosen the best they had, and all completed the training with flying colours. Unexpectedly, the organisation, now four companies including a training cadre, had begun to develop an identity of its own, drawing on the best traditions from the original services. This was only strengthened by the voyage of the Battlecruiser Alamo, and the heroic sacrifice of Lance-Sergeant Hunter during the liberation of Ragnarok from the control of the Lunar Republic, as well as those who fell in the fight against the Separatists aboard. That not a single Espatier betrayed the flag was a matter of great pride to the entire Triplanetary Espatier Corps. The early decision of the Martian Marines to support the Espatiers bore fruit: all key installations for the organisation were based on Mars, with only a few training outposts elsewhere. In addition to their primary role, they were also given control of all space stations run by the Triplanetary Forces, switching from being solely garrison troops to full administrative control. Lieutenant-Majors were hastily promoted to assume command of new postings all across known space. While there were individuals from Callisto and Titan thrown into the mix, the Triplanetary Espatiers were definitely a Martian organisation, maintaining the same drill, traditions and even a minor variation on the same uniform. The Triplanetary Espatiers are the fastest-growing branch of the service, to the degree that there are serious concerns over the training regime, now reduced from the usual year to only six months in order to meet the manpower requirements. There have been several incidents, casualty rates higher than they should have been, and there are growing calls for a slowdown to allow new Espatiers a chance to gain the experience they need. Moreover, Ragnarok revealed a serious gap in the training program: operations on a planetary surface – specifically, such operations without the use of the usual equipment. The likely requirement for future operations on such a scale has sent the technical teams back to the drawing board, trying to evolve modern equipment despite the lack of knowledge of its development on Mars or Callisto. In many cases, troopers are being sent into the front line with equipment decades out of date, simply because it is the best that can be fabricated, and platoon commanders are resorting to tactics out of the distant past for want of any relevant training to utilise. Nevertheless, there is a confidence and assurance that the Espatiers will find their way through, just as their predecessors in the Martian Marine Corps did, and the reopening of recruiting offices on Callisto has reaped immediate rewards, with dozens of volunteers queueing to sign up on the first day. The Espatiers have become the ‘recruiting poster’ of the Triplanetary Fleet, even more than the dashing fighter pilots that are the normal draw. They are held as a shining example to the rest, the ultimate symbols of the Triplanetary Confederation... even if the reality is they spend a huge amount of their time trudging through the mud, plasma rifle in one hand, pistol in the other, the embodiment of 22nd Century and 20th Century technology meshed together into an unholy whole.

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Lunar Republic Background The Lunar Republic was born in the midst of chaos and, for many years, seemed destined to be the sole survivor of that chaos. The government of the United Republic of China, aware of the coming conflicts, elected to find a way to survive the nightmare of the Ecocaust and the Third World War, and so began full-scale efforts to colonise the Moon, both to ensure its own survival as well as that of the human race. Ultimately, the government transferred the capital to the new colony shortly before the Nuclear Spasm, becoming the Lunar Republic in the process. The struggle for survival lasted for the better part of a decade, but it rapidly became obvious that the Republic was in a surprisingly strong position. Earth was on the verge of another Dark Age, and the other colonies were still struggling towards self-sufficiency. The Central Committee of the Lunar Republic made a decision which, while understandable, proved to be an error – committee members opted to focus on the moon, on building their civilisation there, expecting that they would shortly be the only civilised enclave remaining in the Sol System. This was under the assumption that the struggling colonies would later voluntarily accede to their government. It was twenty years before it became apparent that a great opportunity had been missed: that the United Nations had pulled off a miracle and saved civilisation on Earth. Naturally, the Moon was still a major power, but it was immediately evident that the Lunar Republic’s influence would begin to wane. Efforts were started to develop a faster-than-light drive, following up on some hints in the Revised Theory of Relativity but, again, they were beaten to the punch by a research team on Earth. Nevertheless, while the United Nations was the first to escape the Sol System, the Republic was not slow to follow. Launching a series of expeditions into the darkness that resulted in the formation of a series of outposts and settlements, the scientists of the Lunar Republic focused entirely on resource extraction in local space. Then came the Lunar Republic’s second great chance, the Interplanetary War and the revolt of the colonies. From the outset, the Republic provided covert aid to the rebels, careful to spur the revolt without allowing a decisive victory. Over the next ten years, Republic officials would continue to provide carefully balanced aid, the levels waxing and waning as the tides of war turned one way or another, doing everything they could to prolong the war. They used the opportunity to secure increasingly valuable extrasolar concessions, and expanded their own space fleet using the lessons they learned by observing the fighting. They’d hoped to bring both factions to the brink of collapse but instead gained a decade and more – sufficient time to vastly expand their power and influence. Today, the Lunar Republic sits on a threshold, aware that it has another opportunity to become the preeminent power in human space. Now it faces two rivals for that position instead of one, its agents work undercover to foster poor relations between the two powers and give the Lunar Republic the advantage. A century ago, the Republic missed an opportunity to attain dominance; it will not make the same mistake again. Goals The Lunar Republic aims to attain a position of dominance throughout human space. This naturally includes the reduction of the United Nations and Triplanetary Confederation to puppet status, preferably through their separation into smaller, more manageable bodies. The growth and expansion of influence is all that matters to the Lunar Republic. Current Activity Currently, the Lunar Republic is in the fortunate position of possessing sufficient resources to pursue many avenues of expansion. The establishment of the first full-scale colony on Procyon is the first step in this endeavour, with plans for three similar settlements to be established in the near future. A new generation of long-range Scout Cruisers is under construction for the Republic Navy, preparing for expeditions to stars as yet untouched by mankind. In addition, undercover operatives are working to destabilise both the Triplanetary Confederation and United Nations, funding rebel and separatist groups, as well as doing anything possible to discredit the political administration. While there are no plans for an armed confrontation, there is a growing hope that the goals of the Republic can be accomplished through covert means. Prominent Figures Xiao Jiang, Chairman of the Central Committee, has been the unquestioned ruler of the Lunar Republic for twenty-three years. He masterminded the strategy that allowed the Lunar Republic to prosper through the Interplanetary War and strongly resisted those who demanded that the Republic take a more active stance. Since then, he has continued to push for expansion, believing with all his heart that his people are destined to lead known space. He also believes that they can accomplish this without bloodshed, through force of will. He is terminally ill, a fact known to few, even within the Lunar Republic, and his thoughts are currently focused on the selection of his successor. Xian Nuan, Deputy Chairman, believes that she will take this role, and is the favoured candidate of the Security Committee. She is the architect of the attempts to divide the other powers through covert operations, believing this effort to be worth the risk of detection and the destruction that could ensue if their scheming is discovered. At heart, she believes that all other governments are destined to collapse, and sees it as her role to speed this for the benefit of the Republic and all humanity. She is a rare case where her arrogance has yet to be tested by defeat, a matter of great concern to the Chairman. Her main rival is Lin Gang, head of the Science Committee. As a veteran of a dozen exploratory missions and the man responsible for the successful colonisation of Procyon, his belief is that the future of the Republic lies beyond the Sol System, out in the depths of space. He therefore favours exploration as the best way to forge dominance. Further, he is an admirer of elements of the Triplanetary Confederation, and advocates an alliance against the United Nations, believing Earth to be a far greater threat.

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Section 2: Factions

United Nations Background For many years after its formation, the United Nations appeared a moribund organisation, unable to take the steps necessary to form a true world government, making it merely a servant of the powerful nation states of Earth. Over the years, there were many attempts to build the organisation into something greater, but none ever bore serious fruit. As international tensions grew in the early 21st Century, the organisation began to slide into irrelevance. It would be an obscure bureaucratic move that transformed it into something more: an agreement between sixteen mid-level member states to cooperate in space activities under the auspices of the United Nations. Between them, they constructed a number of industrial space-based facilities and, gradually, more members acceded, as the governments were more concerned with the growing chaos on Earth. Then came the Ecocaust, and the Third World War. The then-Secretary-General was no more able to avert the catastrophe than anyone else, but he did initiate the planning that would lead to the Safe Zones, and organised the movement of key personnel to safety in the orbital stations, preparing the way for the restoration. Simple survival was a miracle enough, but he managed something more, and when the dust began to settle, all the major governments had effectively collapsed, and the few surviving nations were on the brink of destruction. The United Nations, the only major organisation left standing, took charge, the last military leaders placing themselves under the command of the Secretary-General as a trusted neutral arbiter, bringing decades of war to a conclusion. The first priority of the new global government was nothing less than the survival of humanity. Once that was assured, with the interplanetary colonies scrambling towards self-sufficiency, a new goal became the focus: the restoration and recovery of Earth. For decades, there was doubt whether such a recovery would be possible, and the work will continue for centuries before it is completed. By the turn of the 22nd Century, however, humanity had successfully stepped back from the brink of armageddon. In those early days, the United Nations did whatever was necessary, but the ruthless acts required to salvage the world became ingrained – a habit – and then, as the second generation of rulers lacked the wisdom of the first, things went into a decline which progressed rapidly. Earth became the focus above all else, and tight control was mandated by the Security Council, now the unelected rulers of the world. A rulership caste emerged as son followed father into office, the early meritocracy descending into nepotism all too quickly. After a century in control, the United Nations is a very different organisation. The secession of the Triplanetary Confederation was a shock to the system, but it has hardened rather than softened the UN’s approach to rule, pushing it to ever-greater levels of autocracy in a bid to prevent any further rebellion. The already tight grip held on its assets grows ever tighter and corruption grows unchecked within the ruling elite. No elections have been held for decades, despite the requirement in the articles of Earth’s Constitution, a document widely regarded as dead almost from the day it was signed. There are still some who seek to salvage the organisation. A growing group of reformers who took the right lessons from the revolt seek to restore the United Nations to its former glory, even though they are bitterly opposed by the ruling elite. Goals The UN aims to restore a single government for all of humanity, bringing the Triplanetary Confederation and ultimately the Lunar Republic under tight central control. Current Activity The primary focus of the United Nations remains the defeat of the Triplanetary Confederation, though there are two avenues currently being explored to bring that about. One faction is focusing on rearmament, building the UN’s own fleet greater than it has ever been before, constructing a new generation of mighty warships designed to bring the rebel colonists to heel. The other faction, currently in the ascendancy, plans to defeat the Confederation through economic growth, and is focused heavily on offworld expansion, developing the remaining colonies and outposts to build a solid foundation for a sustainable economic boom, whilst doing everything possible to sabotage the growth of the Confederation. Prominent Figures Martin Singh is the current Secretary-General, having held that position since the end of the War and the downfall of the old Security Council. He is firmly in the ‘economic superiority’ faction of the government, having formerly served as Economic Minister as well as being well aware of the price paid by the population for the fighting. One of his first acts in office was to classify all the evidence he had gathered about the economic price of the fighting, and how close the United Nations came to financial collapse. While he hates the colonists for their rebellion, he is not willing to destroy Earth’s government to bring them down. Vanessa Scott, the current Security Minister, holds a different view. Her firmest belief is that the United Nations should use its military might to conquer the other governments occupying areas of known space. She has worked to build the United Nations fleet to its greatest ever potential, as well as engaging in covert operations with the goal of sparking a conflict she knows she can win. She has come to despise Singh over the years, and is engaged in plotting to bring him down, gambling that she will replace him when the time comes. Violette LeGrand, a minor representative in the Assembly, is the acknowledged leader of the ‘reform’ faction, which constantly calls for reformations to the United Nations government. This faction hopes to one day bring it back in line with the original vision of the founders. She is an avowed hawk, and is generally regarded as a super-patriot. The only reason that her pro-democratic stance is tolerated is that she is a valued ally of Security Minister Scott, who provides her with an element of protection. Only a handful of people know is that she is also a deep-cover operative for Triplanetary Intelligence, hoping to either reform the system to allow a peaceful unification, or cause sufficient chaos that the United Nations will collapse, allowing a free, democratic administration to take its place.

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Triplanetary Intelligence Background The resistance movements that rose up before the Interplanetary War, underground rebels on Mars, Callisto and Titan who worked together to launch the revolution, are the origins of Triplanetary Intelligence. These groups sparked the eventual declaration of independence and Triplanetary Intelligence operatives still see themselves as the ‘Protectors of the Revolution’ to this day. During the Interplanetary War, Triplanetary Intelligence was essentially an ad-hoc, self-directed group, working on whatever tasks they deemed necessary to ensure victory and obeying no rules and masters other than their own. While each of the planetary militaries naturally formed their own intelligence services, none was permitted to grow to any real size by Triplanetary Intelligence itself, its operatives easily infiltrating the rival organisations and either transforming them into puppet groups with a specific focus, or seeing that they died in the cradle, recruiting any real talent for its own ranks and ruthlessly purging any seen as weak. The central tenet of Triplanetary Intelligence is simple: “We Must Survive, and We Will Be Free.” The end of the War saw its role transform without resistance from seeking to gain independence to seeking to protect the Triplanetary Confederation from all enemies, internal and external. As such, its operatives roam freely around known space, into every potential power group, making sure that none threatens the hard-won freedom of the people of the Confederation. In more than a few cases, would-be dictators and tyrants have been eliminated long before they could become a problem. Triplanetary Intelligence is formed like an iceberg: there has long been a necessity for a public operation at some level. To those not in the know, it appears to be an intelligence analysis and co-ordination group, with offices on each of the three major member states, surprisingly open in access for the public. While this organisation is real, doing vital work for the security of the Confederation, the real network is buried deep beneath the surface. Thousands of deep-cover agents exist, each part of an individual cell, many of which date back to the days of United Nations rule. In some cases, these cells have even been run by the same people for twenty years. There is little or no formal organisation in Triplanetary Intelligence as such, though the formal, cover organisation has a rigid bureaucratic hierarchy that field agents often make use of. An obvious danger is for Triplanetary Intelligence to become the very threat that it seeks to defend against. This is mitigated by the decentralised nature of the organisation, and the techniques of selection that ensure that only those loyal to the spirit of the Constitution of the Confederation are permitted to join. There have been occasional rogue agents, all of which have rapidly been dealt with by internal means. The organisation’s members “cleaning house” themselves has led to trust from other branches of the Triplanetary Confederation that it will not be necessary to do it for them. The decentralised model has downsides, however. It often means that individual cells are working in completely different ways and, at the semi-annual meetings of the top Triplanetary Intelligence operatives, much of the time is spent on argument and deal-making about the approach to problem-solving. While potentially a recipe for chaos, using multiple avenues to approach security threats has often worked out to the Confederation’s advantage, confusing its opponents and ensuring that should one approach fail, another will likely succeed. Although there have been notable disasters in the past that have led to periodic increases in co-operation, these rarely last long. Triplanetary Intelligence has often been described as a ‘squabbling family’, and there is some truth in that. Each cell has a single leader, and when the time comes for them to leave the service, they personally appoint their successor, though usually after consultation with other senior figures. It is quite normal for a cell leader to have named their potential heir years in advance: one cell that has nominally had the same leader for three decades is rumoured to have the new leader simply adopt the name and face of their predecessor, eliminating all trace of the original identity. Recruitment is similarly on an ad-hoc basis. Any agents working for the planetary intelligence agencies of the cover organisation will find themselves contacted in fairly short order, while the Triplanetary Fleet has also proven itself a rich source of potential talent. In truth, most ships have Triplanetary Intelligence operatives aboard, watching from the shadows to help out where necessary. Agents rarely act in large groups, usually preferring to work either alone or in pairs. If the need arises, however, dozens of agents can be deployed to accomplish a mission. Another of the most common methods of entering Triplanetary Intelligence is self-selection. On many occasions, hackers, journalists or even ordinary people on the street have stumbled into intelligence operations. In these situations, the agent-incharge has the authority to determine whether or not they have the talent to work in the field on a permanent basis. One final tradition is that nobody ever leaves Triplanetary Intelligence. On occasion, some agents will arrange for their own ‘retirement’, finding a way to disappear into the shadows. Somehow, however, when they are needed again, their cell leader always seems to be able to bring them back from the cold. There is a secret Triplanetary Intelligence school, based on Iapetus, staffed entirely by retired or disabled operatives, providing a rapid basic training and familiarisation with tactics and equipment, with a strong emphasis being placed on selfreliance and improvisation. On two occasions, the school has been infiltrated by enemy agents. Both times, identifying them has been used by the instructors as a ‘final exam’ for that graduating class. Current Activity Triplanetary Intelligence operates entirely in the shadows: what connections it has with the Triplanetary Senate and Fleet are informal and selective, with Triplanetary Intelligence itself choosing who to trust and on what basis. This has caused much consternation on many occasions, with senators and admirals alike demanding a more formal basis for liaison, but those arguing loudest for such formality often find themselves subject to a level of intense media scrutiny that rapidly forces them into retirement.

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Academic Alliance Background The Academic Alliance was born at the height of the Interplanetary War. As an act of patriotic desperation, the major universities and colleges of every world in the nascent Triplanetary Confederation joined together to launch research projects that they hoped would win the war. Initially, funds and equipment were scarce, so the scientists and engineers were forced to work with what they could – anything left over from the frantic rush to militarise the hitherto-peaceful colonies. Despite this, within the first year of the War they had already made some significant successes, modifying a series of probe designs into missiles to equip the early generations of Triplanetary fighters. These early successes brought official approval, opening up new streams of funding, as well as new facilities at a dozen universities scattered across the Sol System. Longer-term projects were initiated, and it was a research team working under the Alliance that finally perfected the laser cannon later employed in the Thermopylae-class Battlecruisers. Other projects failed to pay off; the ongoing research into improving the hendecaspace drive had no greater success than any previous attempt, and efforts to produce a psychological weapon only resulted in the suicide of the research team. As the War progressed, the initial successes faded somewhat, though the Alliance was able to provide the military with a range of advancements ranging from the spectacular to the mundane: the mastery of the carniculture vat, for example, allowed improved dietary programs on long-range missions, and reduced resupply requirements for deep space outposts. Over time, a new focus developed. The Academic Alliance began to focus on reverse-engineering technology deployed by the United Nations, attempting to master the captured equipment and adapt it for the Triplanetary forces. One of the greatest examples of this was the theft of the Starcharger fighter prototype, a version of which was operating within a year. Eventually, the reverse-engineering projects became more important than the original research, an increasing focus placed upon technological acquisition. As a result, the Academic Alliance developed an intelligence network, designed to steal new prototypes and theoretical research from the development teams on Earth and, to a lesser extent, Luna. The Alliance initially worked closely with Triplanetary Intelligence, before moving in its own direction, making it one of the few agencies to survive such a divergence. Undoubtedly, one aspect of why it survived is that its work included sabotage, corrupting research data or bribing technicians to delay critical projects, objectives in keeping with Triplanetary Intelligence’s goals. The cessation of hostilities changed the picture completely and, initially, not in the favour of the Academic Alliance. Demands for a ‘peace dividend’ resulted in funding being cut drastically. The Alliance was forced to raise funds through other means, selling commercial modifications of its technology in the private sector and making deals with a collection of patriotic corporations to keep the wheels turning. This only heightened the independence of the Alliance from central government, and allowed it to develop total autonomy. No longer reliant on any funding or support from the Triplanetary Senate, it started to work directly with the shipbuilders. As such, the need to reap profits from the organisation’s work grew in importance as time passed, though the original patriotic goals of the founders have always remained. Goals The Academic Alliance aims to maintain the Triplanetary Confederation’s lead in military technology, and to slow the technological development of the Lunar Republic and the United Nations. It also works to provide the corporations which support it with an advantage in the commercial sector, through the use of reverse-engineered technology and military spin-offs. Current Activity The Academic Alliance has a series of operations taking place throughout known space, with a special emphasis on activities on Earth and Luna. At present, their primary focus is on the recent series of technological breakthroughs completed by the Lunar Republic on plasma weapon technology, as well as the projects being undertaken by the United Nations on hendecaspace research – another of the periodic attempts to increase the range of transit. In addition, the Alliance is working on refinements to laser technology and fuel depressurisation techniques, as well as a potential revolution in fuel refinery miniaturisation which, if successful, could potentially revolutionise deep space travel. Protecting projects from the agents of the Lunar Republic and the United Nations is growing increasingly difficult, and the Alliance is being pushed towards a focus on commercial technology. Prominent Figures Fleet Captain Janet Larsson is the closest thing the Academic Alliance has to an official Triplanetary Fleet liaison. As director of Fleet Research and Development, she is increasingly leaning on the Alliance to provide the scientific support she requires. She hopes to eventually arrange government support to replace the current corporate sponsorship, bringing the Alliance back under formal control – preferably hers. She’s resisting the current push towards commercial technologies with all her power, but uses her contacts to help Alliance operatives in their manifold operations. Professor John Green has become the unofficial co-ordinator of the Alliance, running affairs out of his office at the Sagan Technical Institute. For two decades, since the onset of the War, he has been responsible for project approval, putting his own personal stamp on almost every operation conducted by the Alliance. While never comfortable with the move to reverse-engineering, he nevertheless understands the necessity of the work. Of late, however, he has done his best to reverse the trend by increasing funding to new research, even if the immediate payoff might be reduced. Gregor Ulianov, CEO of Trans-Stellar Shipping, is one of the closest allies of the Academic Alliance. He is also personally responsible for a significant proportion of its funding. Despite being a veteran, he firmly believes in the move to commercial development, even at the expense of military spending. He believes that without a strong and robust economy, the Confederation will falter under the financial onslaught of the United Nations. He has therefore done his best to direct military research projects towards more commercial lines, and is attempting to take more control over the direction of research from Professor Green.

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Section 2: Factions

Separatists Background

In many ways, the Separatist movement began on the day the Treaty of Vesta was signed, when the war with the United Nations came to an end. While all had been in agreement on the need for joint military action during the Interplanetary War, many on all three of the constituent worlds believed that this necessity had ended once peace had been declared, and that Mars, Callisto and Titan should each go their own way, rather than be tied to the shackles of an alliance of necessity. For some, it was a question of political ambition, while others believed that they would profit more from independence and many simply thought that they had fought to be free of a multi-world government, so they should not sign immediately up to a new one. Fears that it could someday be a worse tyranny than the one they had fought so hard to escape only fuelled this attitude. On each world, a new political party was formed, with the express intention of breaking away from the Triplanetary Confederation, but they did not manage to gain any significant traction anywhere. Gradually, a hard core of supporters formed, a combination of political, commercial and military figures, all pushing with all the might at their disposal to end the Confederation, sponsoring pressure groups, rogue academics and even fostering incidents between the three worlds in a bid to raise tension. Progress was slow, but they were gaining ground, until the Eureka Incident, when a rogue United Nations officer seized a Martian outpost, only to have it liberated by a frigate of the Callisto Orbital Patrol. Public support decisively swung away from the Separatists, and they lost all control in the subsequent round of elections, forcing them to adopt other means than politics. Instead, they began to work underground, fostering discontent and hoping to break the Confederation through force. Ironically, they began to use many of the techniques created during the years of rebellion in the build-up to the Interplanetary War. Unknown to many of their members, the Lunar Republic has been providing the Separatists with funding and training: the dissolution of the Confederation is certainly in its best interests. This culminated recently in an attempt to take control of the Battlecruiser Alamo by force, led by a group of disaffected military officers and political figures, with the hope of inspiring a wider-scale revolt. Only the quick thinking of Lieutenant-Captain Daniel Marshall saved the day, and he brought Alamo home to a hero’s welcome following the Ragnarok Incident. This attack split the Separatists in two. Many supporters resigned from the movement in disgust and contempt, careers broken for life by the involvement with what had been revealed as a treacherous cause. Others, the true core of the movement, moved underground, spreading to prepared enclaves in local space in order to continue the fight, many of them believing that they had little choice now other than to push on to final victory. Goals The Separatists aim to destroy the Triplanetary Confederation, and to restore freedom to Mars, Callisto and Titan, no matter what the cost. Many are motivated strongly by the potential of personal gain... and since the Alamo Incident, others think it will be the only way they will ever be able to return home. Current Activity A few undiscovered activists still remain at home, working to spread their message through whatever means remain open to them, generally through underground communications networks, fringe political groups, or anyone else who will listen. They still have substantial assets at their disposal, even though the failure at Ragnarok has led to the Lunar Republic rescinding all contact with the organisation. The Republic does not wish to further harm its relations with the Triplanetary Confederation over an obviously lost cause. There is a current focus on the establishment of a new nation, one that can hold to the ideals of freedom and liberty that are – theoretically – espoused by the founders of the Separatist movement. The respective pro-independence factions of the three planets are now, ironically, forced to work together for mutual survival. Triton has been targeted as having the best chance of harbouring a revolt, so all efforts are focused on fostering political and military strength for a potential uprising. While the Lunar Republic has ceased support, the group are covertly receiving aid from the United Nations, which hopes to take advantage of a potential insurgency to seize key locations before the Triplanetary Fleet can respond. As with the Lunar Republic, only a handful of the Separatist leaders are aware of this aid, and it is generally thought that widespread knowledge would bring about the final collapse of the movement. Prominent Figures Fleet Commander Gregor Ivanov is the highest-ranking military figure associated with the Separatists. He is passionately dedicated to Gregor Ivanov alone – he sees himself as the logical head of state of the new regime, wherever that happens to be based, and has ample grass-roots support in the movement to make it happen. An able and hitherto-respected officer, he believes himself destined to save the people of Callisto – even if it means conquering Triton to do it. Senator Clark Hammond, formerly a Martian military officer, is the nominal head of government of the rogue regime, an old man who still, at heart, considers himself to be fighting the Interplanetary War. It is now against a different enemy, though: he hates Ivanov with a passion, not least because of his contempt for any non-Martian figures of authority. A barely competent administrator, he is far more interested in playing political games than any real activism. Finding himself a hunted exile was an unpleasant shock, mitigated only by the discovery that his secret bank accounts were untouched. Doctor Sarah Ryan, Lecturer in Politics at Syrtis Tech, is one of the leading figures in the movement still operating undercover. She spends much of her time in class attempting to convert her students to the cause, as well as working to recruit those with the greatest potential. Unknown to everyone, she is an agent with United Nations Intelligence, assigned in deep-cover to work with the Separatist movement. Currently, she suspects she is under investigation, and is considering fleeing Mars to join the exiles in one of their hidden enclaves.

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Section 2: Factions

Guardians Background

The story of the Guardians begins in the late 21st Century, following the discovery of the first alien ruins at Proxima Centauri. They were relics of a civilisation that had been destroyed hundreds of thousands of years ago. It was clear that the civilisation was considerably more advanced than humanity has reached, even a century after the aliens’ demise. The potential threat that an alien race could pose was a concern of the political classes, causing a brief flurry of activity and the bolstering of Earth’s orbital defence network. Others, however, were concerned of a greater, existential threat. The discoveries at Proxima did not appear to have any obvious applications to human science. Although they provided decades of philosophical and archaeological study, it was conceivable that future discoveries could present a threat. To a generation still laboring to restore Earth to its pre-industrial state, the dangers of unchecked technological advancement were clear and immediate. A collection of scientists, initially calling themselves the Advanced Technology Working Group, resolved to take steps to protect humanity from such a development. Officially, the Working Group established themselves as the leading experts in alien technological applications, making the presence of one of their number on any interstellar expedition a necessity. A few like-minded billionaires, concerned more about the effect of economic instability caused by any technological breakthroughs they couldn’t control, funded other missions within the Sol System. Over the next forty years, they concealed or destroyed most of the evidence of alien life close to Sol, often storing captured artefacts in a secret facility in the Australian wastelands. The Interplanetary War was a disaster for the organisation: its political ties were all to the United Nations and Earthbased megacorporations, so it had few operatives working in the area of the new Triplanetary Confederation. Triplanetary Intelligence soon discovered the group’s existence a secret war began. Triplanetary Intelligence’s agents started to work to uncover hidden alien technology in the hopes that it might provide the war-winning weaponry a weary population sought. They never succeeded in penetrating the Vault, however. Since the War ended, the Guardians have entered a period of enforced retrenchment, trying to rebuild their shattered network on Earth and establish a new one on the newly liberated worlds. They are still duelling with agents of Triplanetary Intelligence on a dozen systems, though now with the passive support of the United Nations. They still remain vigilant against any threat facing Earth, and the rumours that they are holding back technology that could leap humanity ahead by decades are not entirely unjustified. The researchers in the Vault occasionally release any advancements they deem safe, yet barely scratching the surface of the potential hidden within. Goals The Guardians aim to prevent the destruction of humanity, either because of unchecked technological development built on vastly superior science or a greater, existential psychological breakdown, a realisation of the inferiority of humanity in a vast universe. Some in the organisation are more concerned about the potential effects of economic dislocation, either due to the adverse effect on their investment portfolios or a fear that whole industries could be rendered obsolete overnight. Current Activity The Guardians are adopting a two-fold strategy. They are working to reconstruct the deep-space research network that was shattered by the Interplanetary War, seeding the colonies and outposts with scientists, observers and journalists loyal to their cause in a bid to conceal any recently-discovered alien artefacts. As such, they carefully monitor all scientific journals and the popular news media, ready to dispatch an operative to a potential alien site before any group can get there first. In addition, they are stepping up a campaign of propaganda, primarily focused on the Triplanetary Confederation. Through this, they hope to ferment a surge of anti-alien sentiment that would lead to the defunding of research they deem dangerous. They have seen a commitment to such a deemphasis from one major political party, and through a combination of articles, documentaries and dramas, they are working hard to bring the colonists as a whole onto their side. A key concern remains the safety of the Vault, isolated in a radioactive wilderness but still occasionally the subject of intrusion. Triplanetary agents have broken in on four separate occasions, though in each instance they were killed before they could escape with stolen data. Work is ongoing to seek a secure location for the establishment of a new base, not on Earth, as well as gathering the billions of Credits such a move will require. Prominent Figures Professor Alonzo Pitt is perhaps the best-known Guardian, though not in that context. His face appears on the news on an almost daily basis as the leading Martian expert in intelligent alien life, his comments always laden with warnings and alarmist statements about the potential menace it might pose to an unprotected humanity. He has taken great pains to conceal his early work, though he increasingly suspects that Triplanetary Intelligence is investigating him. Robert Green is the ninth Keeper of the Vault, the commander and lead researcher of the hidden base, and the nearest thing the Guardians have to a leader. For fifty years, he has lived at the site, only rarely leaving when his work demands, and spends most of his time studying the alien artefacts he has protected all his life. He is a fervent Earth loyalist, and on more than one occasion during the Interplanetary War, has advocated the release of military technologies to the United Nations Fleet. In fact, it is suspected that the recent adoption of particle beam technology was his work. Sandra Denisova has made a name as one of the Guardians’ best field operatives. The third generation of her family to serve the organisation in this manner, she has travelled widely across space, using the cover of a journalist, becoming a familiar figure at failed research sites. An expert hacker, she carries her own personal ‘Vault’, a collection of stolen data from a hundred digs and laboratories. Unlike many of the Guardians, she believes that humanity will one day be ready for the information she carries, and sees their role as preserving the relics of the past for that future time.

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part 1: the universe Section 3: Locations

The Sol System Aside from the major settlements, almost every substantial body in the Sol System has some sort of human occupation, or at least did at some time in the past. Those inaccessible by hendecaspace drive have largely become havens of lawlessness; the major governments are unwilling to spend the effort to police or protect areas that might take months of travel time to reach. Dozens of rogue settlements exist in the Kepler Belt, some decades-old, established by governments that have long since faded into history. For every one that survived, though, ten others are cold and empty, abandoned to space as their inhabitants died or fled to the warmth of civilised territory.

Venus In the early days of space colonisation, there were high hopes for Venus, with plans afoot to construct aerostats in its atmosphere, floating cities that could provide a home for millions of colonists. If the hendecaspace drive had not led to the discovery of Earth-like worlds within relatively easy reach, perhaps those plans might have come to fruition. While great stations were assembled in orbit, their goal instead was resource extraction, scooping rare chemicals from the thick Venusian atmosphere for shipment back to Earth. At the beginning of the Interplanetary War, Venus rebelled with the other colonial governments, forming the short-lived Venusian Orbital Republic. The United Nations dispatched a fleet to bring the renegades to heel and, after a short siege, was successful. A handful of the colonists escaped to the frontier, but the majority were labelled as traitors and renegades, with the exception of a few known UN loyalists who were raised to leading positions in the local administration. This provided an opportunity that the politicrats of Earth could not ignore. Overnight, 99% of the population of Venus Orbital Republic became little more than slaves, sentenced to a life of hard labour for the crime of treason. Over the last two decades, conditions have worsened, and the children of the colonists have found themselves facing the same punishment as their parents, condemned for crimes committed before they were even born. As a result, a resistance movement has formed, with limited assistance from Triplanetary Intelligence, dedicated to the day when these colonists might free themselves from the tyranny of Earth. For the present, however, they mainly content themselves with smuggling as many people as possible to safety in the Confederation, or down to Earth with new identities. As the old stations decay due to the lack of administrative interest in the resident population, seething hatred rises. Now, the resistance is just waiting for the spark that will ignite a revolution.

Triton Triton, one of Neptune’s moons, is the furthest-flung settlement of the Triplanetary Confederation within the Sol System. During the War, it was one of the first colonies to rebel, and the distance and relative obscurity of the settlement meant that it was years before the United Nations launched an attack. The task force dispatched to conquer the colony was repulsed by Triplanetary forces in one of the largest battles of the War. The first settlers reached Triton during the aftermath of the Third World War, originating from a dozen nations determined to secure their independence. Sheer distance granted their wishes until the discovery of the hendecaspace drive, which led to a renewed wave of settlement as the United Nations sought to crush the rebellious spirit of the Tritonians through sheer weight of numbers. In a common miscalculation of the era, however, many of the settlers they dispatched were political prisoners, with little love for Earth and its governments, and Triton rapidly became a centre for revolt. Joining the Triplanetary Confederation as the lesser of two evils, Triton has nevertheless held itself aloof from the alliance, contributing only the minimum required, and still dreaming of founding an independent republic of its own. Just as the colonists of Triton supported the rebels during the early days of the War, they have now become supporters of the Separatist cause, leading to the permanent dispatch of a Triplanetary guardship to the region – a solution which, in truth, is only making a bad situation worse. Most of the moons of Neptune have some sort of settlement, part of a twenty-year plan designed to grow the Tritonian economy to the point where independence might be practical. Many of the surviving Belt corporations are heavy investors in these developments, the two Associated States finding common cause as they struggle for what they perceive as their survival in the new political climate.

Mercury Mercury is abandoned, a world occupied only by a series of unmanned scientific stations, as though the major powers have all independently decided that it should be left alone. Theoretically, it ought to be a significant source for a wide variety of resources and, indeed, it was this potential that led a quarter-million colonists, primarily from the United Korean Republic, to settle the world during the turmoil of the Third World War. For the first decade, their settlement progressed well, beginning resource extraction and export to the desperate markets of Earth. When the fighting began, different factions argued over the best course for the future of Mercury, some advocating annexation to Earth, others calling for aggressive expansion. When a series of scandals hit the government, chaos began, with a series of revolutions and counter-revolutions tearing the people apart. These also destroyed many of the facilities they desperately needed to survive. After five weeks of bloody fighting, the population had halved, and the realisation that survival would not be easy dawned upon the remaining colonists. Those who fled Earth during the Ecocaust knew that there was no going back, and that there was no possibility of aid or succour. The few remaining national governments were also fighting for survival and, aside from comforting words, there was little to be done to help the colonies. The Mercurian colonists had to fight for their own salvation, and all thoughts of internal conflict were forgotten as they began a desperate struggle for survival.

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Section 3: Locations For a time, it seemed as though they might succeed, as they worked to rebuild their destroyed infrastructure, but it rapidly became apparent that the damage had been too great, that too many people had died, and that the end was all but inevitable. Instead, a new focus was established – escape. The creation of a new fleet of Interplanetary ships could never rescue the whole population, but it was hoped that at least some might make it to the safety of Luna, or Mars. The inevitable soon happened, as a second wave of fighting began over who would ride the jerry-built ships. Only a handful ever launched as the colony once more collapsed into anarchy. Most of those which launched failed in flight. One ship made it to the Moon, carrying forty-two half-dead passengers, mostly children. While they made a full recovery, no other survivors escaped Mercury, and all contact was soon lost. More than twenty years later, sufficient resources were husbanded by the Lunar Republic to attempt a return to the planet, under the guise of a rescue mission. As expected, they found nothing but corpses, the vast majority of the colonists apparently dying soon after their ships had launched. A few had lingered for a couple of years, though they eventually succumbed to failing life support systems. Since then, the occasional expedition has visited the planet and, until the discovery of the hendecaspace drive, there were some suggestions that resettlement might be practical. Those plans have been pushed into the distant future now – there are better worlds to conquer, ones without such a legacy.

Eris Eris has become one of the surprises of the 22nd Century, and one of the best-kept secrets of the Lunar Republic. At a distance that should take years for a spaceship to travel, the Republic unveiled a colony less than twenty years ago, populated by five thousand people who seemed to appear out of nowhere. Their secret is simple – they found a shortcut. There is a stable wormhole reaching from Eris to an outer world in the Procyon System, which permits near-instantaneous travel, faster than the hendecaspace drive. Eris itself was visited only once prior to this discovery, by a private consortium who had hoped to find organic materials in the Kuiper Belt, after disappointments on Pluto and Triton. The world always did possess all the requirements for settlement, distance being the primary obstacle to colonisation. The Lunar Republic is hurriedly transforming the world into a major hub, seeing it as a potential ‘last stand’ in the event of a Second Interplanetary War, a safe redoubt that could be held against any realistic attack. In addition, Eris has become a primary site for resource extraction, as there are numerous smaller objects close enough to provide ample commercial opportunities. It took less than five years for the colony to return a significant profit on the original investment. Naturally, one of the most critical elements of the colony is research into the wormhole, as the only one ever discovered. Currently, it is said to be showing signs of being an artificial construct. Naturally, harnessing technology which could control wormholes could open up the galaxy overnight. The Republic has therefore not only restricted knowledge of the discovery to a hand-picked few, but is sending experts roaming across space in an effort to learn more. The recent establishment of the Republic’s first extrasolar colony at Procyon – an otherwise valueless world – was primarily driven by a desire to protect both ends of the wormhole from attack or discovery. Eris itself is little different from Luna, a series of domes and caverns dug into the rock, powered by an array of fusion generators. While, in theory, Eris is an open port, the impracticality for any other government to reach the world has provided greater security than any warship, and the local defences are thought to be surprisingly light.

Pluto The United Nations guards Pluto jealously, as one of its most precious possessions. Originally founded as a research colony, it became a major naval installation during the Interplanetary War, turned over entirely to the United Nations Fleet as a staging area for long-range attacks and a secure training facility for enlisted personnel. Security is rigorous and absolute, with only United Nations Fleet ships permitted to visit the world – on three occasions, civilian ships ignoring the restrictions have been destroyed, and on each occasion, the officer who gave the order publicly received high commendations. As a result, little is known about what takes place at the base, though long-range observations have revealed a host of dockyards and construction facilities. This has led to speculation that it is the home of the latest generation of advanced starships, new vessels that could truly dominate space. It is, however, suspected that the design process is proving extremely taxing, and that the project is years behind schedule. In addition, long-range detectors have picked up several strange signs of dimensional instability, some of them lasting far longer than anything known before. This is widely believed to be an indication that the UN is conducting its research into advanced hendecaspace propulsion at its outer facility. For six months in 2159, no ships were permitted to arrive or depart, and shortly afterwards, hundreds of UN Fleet personnel were reported as missing in action. This is thought to be some sort of failed test. Every other major power would pay almost any price to learn the secrets of the station at Pluto, and it is a key objective of the current operational plans for a Second Interplanetary War, with many major figures in the Triplanetary Fleet regretting that the world was not taken when they had the chance. What only senior figures in the United Nations know is that Pluto is a sham: the colony was evacuated a decade ago, and all the facilities established on-site are fake, a combination of obsolete equipment and subterfuge, designed to fool observers at long range. They have been briefed that the hendecaspace anomalies were created in a similar way, using a malfunctioning drive to open portals. Only a single Guardship waits on station, with Transports going back and forth on a regular rotation, using hand-picked crews who know the secret. Of course, that in itself could be a deception – as is the nature of all intelligence work, only key figures in the Security Council know the real truth.

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Earth General Earth is not the world it once was. Decades of constant war and centuries of environmental degradation wrought bitter damage to the fragile ecosystem. The Nuclear Spasm that ended the Third World War was the last straw for much of the world. Untold thousands of species became extinct, whole continents were rendered uninhabitable by the fighting and, even decades later, there are large swathes of the Earth where no human may walk and live. The scientists suggest that the Indian Subcontinent and Australia will be inhabitable again in a century, and a few courageous colonies are already settling the coasts of those wastelands, hopeful to reclaim their former homes. For much of the second half of the 21st Century, civilisation on Earth teetered on the brink of collapse, the population crashing from its pre-war peak of eight billion to less than four billion in a generation and halving again by the end of the century until finally stabilizing at two and a half billion. That technologically-advanced civilisation managed to survive on Earth at all was a combined result of the space-based industrial complex that had been untouched by the fighting on the surface and the ruthless pragmatism of the Security Council. It was not uncommon to triage whole nations to select a few survivors, while concentrating all efforts on a couple of dozen carefully selected enclaves. As the 22nd Century began, the recovery was already in progress. Thousands of miles of territory and millions of people were reclaimed as civilisation spread across the Earth, this time sustainably. Genetic engineers began the time-consuming process of recreating the ecosystem, piecing together fragments of remnant DNA to bring species back to life where possible, while at other times creating new species to fill environmental niches now abandoned. The world swung back into a colder epoch, bordering on an ice age, but careful management of emissions kept the world in a sustainable balance... though thanks to a team of rogue geneticists, mammoths and sabre-toothed tigers once more roamed across the wastes of Siberia and Canada. Great cities expanded from the few surviving metropolises, huge towers rising to the sky, arcologies capable of housing a hundred thousand people apiece, none of whom would ever have to leave the confines of their buildings, if they didn’t wish to. Increasingly, they don’t: improvements in virtual reality technology have meant that many spend their lives in a dreamscape, supported by a world increasingly designed to run without the intervention of the mass of humanity. Whole countries have become nature reservations, with access being granted only to those experts needed to ensure that they remain viable. Even a century after the restoration programs began, intervention is still constantly needed to ensure that the ecological balance is maintained. The geneticists continue to work on the restoration of species, focusing equally on the smallest insect and the largest megafauna. Despite extended efforts, the panda remains extinct, though, the passenger pigeon, once lost, flies over the American continent once more. The more recent projects focus on land reclamation: as the temperature falls and the ice caps return, the coasts of the world are expanding once more. This means buried cities are rising from the muck and the mire to be reclaimed once again. Huge efforts are under way to restore London, New York and Singapore to their former glories and, even in cities deemed impossible to reclaim, salvage teams work around the clock to pick through the remains of the near-dead civilisation, fishing out art, treasures and architectural wonders for the museums springing up around the world. The wastelands still remain beyond the inhabited area, and most choose not to think about it. It is said that some brave adventurers get close enough to Moscow, Denver or Berlin to see the faintly glowing ruins at night, as they dream of walking those ancient streets once more. It is only in the last three decades that the majority of the population of Earth answers to the central government. Even so, many areas still remain feral, ruled by warlords and tyrants who dream of conquest, yet knowing that they would never overthrow the mighty United Nations Army, a million-strong cadre that defends the world from the ever-shrinking barbarian enclaves. Life on Earth In many ways, living on Earth is no different to living in a space colony – it is an artificial environment carefully maintained through the greatest of efforts, knowing that the first mistake would be the last. The arcologies were designed using the same technology as the great space stations orbiting the Earth, and the populations are carefully selected to ensure compatibility – or, as some accuse, docility – and it is perpetually rumoured that chemical suppressants are introduced into the water and the food to pacify the population. On Earth, democracy did not survive the Third World War, a ruthless technocratic civilisation rising from the ashes of the old, willing to sacrifice millions of people in the hope of saving billions, knowing the price to be paid and accepting it. The population is well aware of how close they came to extinction – one glance at some of the satellite images proves that beyond a doubt – and their education makes it clear that civilisation could all still fall apart, unless total care and concern is maintained. The culture is ruthless on waste, dedicating itself to the preservation and restoration of nature, and capital punishments still exist for those who place the recovery in jeopardy. The colonies are viewed as spoiled children, hated and reviled for their attacks on Mother Earth, though anyone over thirty will remember the teachings that took a very different approach, praising and celebrating the achievements of the space-based industries in preventing the total collapse of technological civilisation. A total control over the news media is maintained by the UN Security Council, ensuring that the people only know what it wishes them to know.

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Section 3: Locations Despite all of this, civilisation is not in a stable situation, largely because of the millions that still remain outside United Nations control, living in the wastelands. Long ago, offers were made to bring the remnant populations into the civilised regions and, while millions accepted this offer, others did not and chose instead to remain under their own governments, however base, keeping what freedoms they could. In some areas, the United Nations Army moved in to bring these populations into the fold by force, but it rapidly became evident that this could backfire, with terrorist movements growing in once-stable cities, requiring extended peacekeeping actions. Instead, the decision was taken to allow the barbarian states to wither on the vine, trusting in time to winnow them out, one after another. The strategy has worked over the years, to an extent: when children wonder why their parents condemn them to a life of squalor for a failed ideology, it can be a powerful force for change. However, a few nations are surviving and growing, these often being remnants of nations clinging to once-proud traditions. The United States of America, for example, lives on in the wastelands of the Midwest, and the Siberian Emperor proudly flies the green-and-white flag from the ramparts of his marble palace. Quietly, subtly, these “Remnant States” are working to bring down the United Nations, often with covert assistance from the Lunar Republic and the Triplanetary Confederation. They sow the seeds of discontent among the population, something which has grown steadily more successful over the years and is now building to the point where the security forces are maintaining a constant alert in several restless arcologies. The greatest triumph so far was to hack into the virtual world in which millions live, introducing new thoughts and concepts directly into the minds of the people. There is a growing danger that this strategy could backfire, however, as the Security Council is beginning preparations for a massive intervention, one that would see a war on three continents to crush the remaining barbarian governments and truly bring the world under a single regime. Aware of this, the rebels are strengthening their propaganda, arming for the day when they will be forced to fight for their survival once more – this time to the bitter end. Notable Locations Stockholm, the largest city to survive the Third World War, became the de-facto capital of Earth and seat of the United Nations, a process formalised by the final Unification Treaties that brought the Interplanetary War to an end. Despite its importance, the city has been kept small, with a population of less than a million people, all of whom work for the government in one capacity or another. Fears have also ensured a substantial military garrison – local, trusted troops that would fight to the death for their people, including their families who live within the city. Auckland is perhaps the greatest rival to the capital, and for a time, was the heart of the Pacific Alliance, the last of the major organisations to peacefully accede to United Nations control. The largest city in the world, it attracted some of the finest minds during the years of collapse, and maintains a dozen top-level universities today, with fifteen thousand students representing the elite of Earth and those worlds still ruled by the United Nations. The Nouveau Louvre is also here, containing the collected artwork of two continents, which was raced to safety even as the bombs were falling. One of the closest places to the frontier on Earth is Hobart, the centre of operations for the reclamation of Australia and home of a hundred thousand geneticists working to salvage the continent. The attempts are hoped to reduce the waiting time before repopulation to decades, rather than centuries. The Australian survivors of the final days of the war have clustered in Tasmania, finally winning the battle of survival, and now dream of the time to come when they can return to their homeland, restoring life to the bleak, barren wilderness. New York, after being abandoned for decades as the waters rose, is once more a hive of activity. United Nations engineers are constructing huge dams in a bid to reclaim the city, hoping to restore it to its former glory. Billions of Credits have already been committed to this project, and the first arcologies are rising on the ruins of the crumpled skyscrapers, carefully designed to mirror the buildings that once rose proudly into the sky. Already the population has passed a million, though it is increasingly becoming necessary to conscript settlers, with volunteers few and far between. There are also rumours that some of the surviving barbarian inhabitants still live in the shadows, striking at the engineering teams in a desperate attempt to retain control of their home. High Vegas High Vegas, in orbit of Earth, is one of the largest space stations in existence, a legendary resort where anything is possible and ‘all dreams come true’. Run by a syndicate of semi-criminal organisations, the station is accepted by the Security Council as a safety valve. The fact that many of them are members of the syndicate also helps, though official doctrine decries the ‘den of iniquity’ in Low Earth Orbit. Access is exclusively for the wealthy, as the expense of visiting the station even for a weekend is well beyond the means of the bulk of the population... though for those who attend, it is an experience never forgotten. The last capital of the United States of America, Omaha, resembles a military camp more than a city, buildings painstakingly repaired after decades of work with limited resources. Much of the population, fearful of attack, lives underground in the bunker complexes that survived the Third World War – the missile defences that protected this facility worked well enough that the city survived and even, to an extent, thrived, until the Unification Treaties brought the recovery period to an end. Now the President sits in his bunker, in constant contact with the surviving leaders of the Remnant States, working for the day when they can retake their respective homelands and set their flags proudly flying once more.

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Luna General The ‘Heroic Age’ of space exploration focused on the race to the Moon: historians today cite the final Apollo mission as the beginning of the ‘Slow Burn’ era of spaceflight, which lasted well into the 2020s. It was China that caused the acceleration of movement into the Sol System, landing four men on the Moon in 2025 and establishing the first permanent settlements two years later. While the rest of the world struggled to catch up, the Chinese space program focused exclusively on Lunar development, the government finally claiming the moon as sovereign territory as the Third World War began. Senior figures in the Chinese government had predicted the war and planned for the worst, transferring hundreds of thousands to the new Lunar Territory. These included high-ranking officials from the political administration and this culminated in the transfer of the Chinese capital to the city of Wu Gang, situated on the Sea of Tranquillity, in 2059. Writing their old homeland off as unsalvageable after the Third World War, rulers of the new Lunar Republic focused totally on growth and expansion on the Moon. Notably, this government refused to sign the Treaty of Unification that ended hostilities on Earth, instead constructing a comprehensive orbital defence network around its new territory to reinforce its total independence from the United Nations. Since then, the population has expanded drastically as the development programmes took hold, reaching fifty million by 2150. The settlements were untouched by the effects of the Interplanetary War – if anything, they experienced an economic boom through supplying weaponry to both sides. There has been talk about the potential terraforming of the Lunar surface at some point in the next century, though most write this project off as wildly impractical. Life on the Moon Since the first days of settlement, survival on the lunar surface has depended on total obedience to higher authority, supported by a ruthlessly efficient meritocratic system. Only the best of the best were sent to the Moon originally – Beijing was very careful in the selection of the early colonists, even as the political situation deteriorated. Children are strictly educated in the importance of obeying orders for the sake of mutual survival, using several accidents from the earliest days of the settlement as lessons for the future. Initially, the plan was for only a single city on the lunar surface, but it was rapidly decided that spreading out across the terrain was a better idea: a network of carefully-planned cities was established during the second half of the 21st Century. All are interconnected by a complicated rapid transit system that allows the complete circumnavigation of the Moon in less than twenty hours when operating at top efficiency – and the strict protocols of the Republican government ensure that such efficiency is all but constant. While, on the surface, Luna appears to be a police state, there is actually considerable freedom allowed, the population following the edicts of common sense. While safety regulations must be enforced at all times, there is increasingly less direct involvement by the government in people’s lives. The lack of democracy is tolerated due to the rigorous nature of the selection systems, which have successfully prevented the nepotism that often destroys such governments: the first Chairman of the Lunar Republic had three children, none of whom followed him into politics. In fact, one became a construction worker, a common labourer who would, in decades to come, become an exemplar of the success of the governmental system. The cities are well-kept, the citizens are content and the local educational system is the envy of known space. The government believes it vital to make maximum use of the intellectual resources at its disposal, lest the Lunar Republic fall behind the other powers. While there are some underground movements advocating increased freedom and democracy, most of them are funded by either the United Nations or Triplanetary Intelligence and none have ever gained any serious strength. The only real discontent in recent history was related to the unwillingness of the government to intervene in the Interplanetary War, many believing that there were missed opportunities. Since that time, there has been an increased restlessness, and a sense that Luna has been exploited as much as it realistically can be – the younger generation are increasingly interested in finding new worlds among the stars. Notable Locations More than a quarter of the population of Luna live in Wu Gang, the site of the first Chinese landing, and the first permanent settlement on the Moon. The original dome is preserved as a historical relic, but a vast metropolis has grown up around it. This region contains the seat of the Republic government and the heart of all industry, all contained in one of the largest cities in the Sol System. The highlight of the city is the Underground Garden, a cavern thirty miles wide preserved as a park, filled with wildlife rescued from Earth before the Third World War. The last trace of the short-lived American presence on Luna is Armstrong City. The name was retained by the Lunar Republic in order to honour the first human to land on the satellite, who is still a revered figure in the history of the world, even if the textbooks have a slightly odd twist to the tale. The city is filled with museums dedicated to the history of space exploration, which attract tourists from all across space. They contain the largest surviving collection of artefacts of the Heroic Age of space exploration. Gateway Station is the oldest permanently-manned space station in operation, the original modules preserved for their historical value. Originally, it was a joint project of a dozen space agencies on Earth, and was taken over by the Republic government during the Third World War to be used as a transport point for colonists. Today, it is the cornerstone of Luna’s defence, the home of a dozen warships and fighter squadrons, permanently patrolling Lunar space to protect against surprise attacks. In recent years it has returned to its original role, though the colonists are now bound for the new worlds in deep space, departing the Lunar Republic through the very station used by their ancestors when they first fled Earth, more than a century ago.

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Mars

General For centuries, a colony on Mars was the wildest dream of mankind. It was finally attained in 2031 by a joint US/Russian expedition, reaching the planet just weeks ahead of the Chinese mission. Settlement began almost at once: it began with a small scientific outpost but rapidly expanded. Over the next ten years, dozens of facilities spread out across the planet. The first true colonists arrived by 2040: two hundred people determined to carve out a new world for humanity, their work made even more urgent and vital by the horrors descending upon fragile Earth. By 2055, eight thousand people called Mars home, and there were plans to expand that to as much as a hundred thousand by the end of the century. Those plans were dramatically overturned by events on Earth. As the Third World War began, causing millions to flee Earth on any spacecraft they could take, two destinations loomed largest – the Moon and Mars. China’s annexation of the Moon left only a single destination open for many people and, by 2065, the goal for the end of the century had been far surpassed. Bases spread across the Martian desert by the dozen, other settlements digging into the surface, frantically making use of the local resources to produce water and air. There were many disasters, and for a time, the survival of the colony seemed to hang by a thread, but by 2085, it was apparent that humanity had secured a strong foothold on Mars. Ironically, Mars was initially of little interest to the United Nations: it was left largely to itself as Earth concentrated on the resources of the Asteroid Belt and later Titan and Callisto. Popular thinking was that Mars had little of use to Earth, until the idea for a terraforming project was brought before the Security Council, a proposal that could transform Mars into a second Earth in just three generations. Initial testing was promising, so work on the Paradise Project began in 2133. None of Mars’ fifty million people were consulted about the project, Earth’ s government simply assuming that they would approve. The fact that the first stage involved slamming nine hundred comets onto the planet – requiring the evacuation of a dozen cities – seemed a minor price to pay for those not actually living there. The revolution began on that day and, within a decade, the Earth’s Administration had been removed by force, and the Interplanetary War began in earnest. Mars became the Arsenal of Freedom, home to a dozen spaceports working on the resources from the Martian Trojans, as well as the forward base for raids into Cislunar space. More than half of the population was involved in war work at the high point – to the degree that every settlement has a ‘Wall of Honour’, laden with the names of those who fell in battle in the fight for their world. When the war ended, Mars was the capital of the Triplanetary Confederation, a major industrial and mercantile hub, and the beating heart of humans in space. Life on Mars Mars is largely an urban environment, clustered in half a dozen large and a few dozen smaller cities. These are scattered across the surface of the planet with little evident logic, as they grew from the original settlements seeded from Earth. Every city has its own unique feel, though all have a similar ‘First Landing’ memorial site, a testament to the brave explorers who took the first steps on a new world, more than a century ago. The smaller cities are mostly focused around a single industry – often ice extraction or hydroponics – shipping their wares on thousand-mile monorails to the larger settlements. Those living in the big cities often look down upon the residents of the ‘outback’ as hopelessly provincial, while those in the smaller settlements decry the loose morals of those dwelling in the fleshpots of Mars. Before independence was declared, the ever-increasing financial burden of Earth led to a progressively poorer quality of life, with many major settlements becoming little more than slums. The economic boom of the Interplanetary War and its aftermath changed the picture entirely, turning Mars into a ‘boom’ planet. Discussions over the possibility of a megaproject in the near future have begun, with increasing demand for the construction of a space elevator. Any new suggestions of attempts at terraforming are mocked and condemned, though the few years of work that did take place changed Mars forever, doubling atmospheric pressure and increasing the quantities of surface ice. Generally, Earth and its works are despised here worse than anywhere else in the Triplanetary Confederation. In fact, there is an air of benign superiority: most Martians consider themselves the ‘aristocrats of space’, though they would never admit this to anyone else. Notable Locations Port Lowell was the site of the first landing on Mars – a single prefabricated module which has grown into a city of ten million people, with a thousand Shuttles landing and taking off every day between here and the orbiting settlements. This is the home of the newly-constructed Triplanetary Fleet Academy, the seat of government for both Mars and the Triplanetary Confederation, and the hub of all life on the planet. The High Towns are unique to this city, shanty towns built into the ceilings of the mile-wide domes that form the settlement, havens for criminals, hackers and derelicts. The Valley is the biggest open space on Mars: Mariner Valley was long ago roofed and made airtight. It now consists of miles of extend settlements and parkland where the bulk of the non-hydroponic life on the planet is grown. At one point, this was the home of Earth’s Colonial Administration. The Governor’s Residence is preserved as the Museum of Tyranny, recording the events of the occupation by Earth, before the Interplanetary War. Sagan Tech is a university town, containing fifty thousand researchers, students and their families. Those within conduct the bulk of all technical research on Mars, with a primary focus on life support systems and colonial development. Established seventy years ago, most of the major advancements in space systems technology have come from this institution. Mariner Station is the largest station in the Confederation – three miles across – and, until recently, was the largest merchant hub in the system, positioned at the Mars-Sol egress point. Lack of attention has transformed it into a haven for criminal activity, to the point that the station administration was recently turned over to the Triplanetary Espatier Corps in the hopes that military rule will restore order to the facility.

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Asteroid Belt General The Asteroid Belt was the source of the first serious exploration beyond Earth, the resource-hungry world reaching out to tap the resources of the Sol System. By the mid-21st Century, a dozen corporations were working the Belt, operating manned installations out of Phobos, Ceres and Vesta. When the Third World War erupted, it became the only realistic haven for hundreds of thousands of people as corporations moved their entire personnel to safety in the stars. For a time, it was hoped that the Belt would become the jewel of the Sol System. For the first half-century after it was colonised, those hopes were poised to become reality. The United Nations accepted it could never truly control the myriad of swarming outposts and settlements, instead being content to simply accept the influx of resources. These were used to support the struggle for sheer survival on Earth. The Kurtz War changed all of that, when criminal syndicates acquired spaceships and began to use them for profit. Occasions when only half a dozen desperate psychopaths were able to take control of settlements of thousands became more common, as they held entire populations hostage until their sadistic demands were met. Eventually, the formation of the United Nations Space Force brought the criminals to heel, but life was never the same in the Belt. Things only worsened with the discovery of the hendecaspace drive – the Belt’s economy shattered, seemingly overnight. Suddenly, it was far faster and easier to ship resources from the Trojan asteroids of Mars and Jupiter and, later, Proxima Centauri and Barnard’s Star. Conditions were only worsened by the onset of the Interplanetary War, with a hundred battles fought across the largest installations, killing tens of thousands and causing billions of Credits of damage. By the end of the Interplanetary War, the Belt was the one struggling to survive. The terms of the Treaty of Vesta annexed it to the Triplanetary Confederation and many of its citizens have taken advantage of this to move to Mars, Callisto or Titan, seeking a better future on worlds with a functioning economy. However, the formerly hyper-capitalistic Belt government has nationalised everything it can for a long-shot fight for survival, supported by those who refuse to leave. Things can never be the same again, but the government is unwilling to give up on the future just yet. Life in the Belt Belt settlements fall into two categories: long-established installations and remote outposts. The former are rotating space stations occupied by tens of thousands of residents – small O’Neill space colonies which orbit alongside large asteroids for resource extraction. Remote outposts are clusters of aging modules bolted onto smaller asteroids, essentially in zerogravity. The larger Belt settlements today are past their best, well into their fifth generation of habitation. Many have not been upgraded for twenty or thirty years, and some of them still show the scars of the Interplanetary War. At one time, these installations were luxurious, offering the highest standard of living in the Sol System. Today, they are falling into decay, with unemployment rising rapidly and the crime rate rising along with it. Government officials are unable to do anything about it, ruthlessly focusing their power on shaping the future of the Belt and willing to sacrifice the present to make it happen. Corruption is rampant, and those with useful skills and contacts are fleeing to more stable settlements. As a result, some of the stations are all but abandoned now, criminal syndicates taking control under the cover of rigged elections. On the frontier outposts, more vitality remains. However, there is increasing discontent that the settlements are largely operated by Martian and Callistan companies, as the Belt mining syndicates collapse one by one. Some of the settlements have existed for a hundred years, modules being moved from one asteroid to the next as the need arises. Many of the inhabitants of these settlements are proud frontier families who can trace their ancestry back to the first off-Earth settlers. These families are the primary drivers of the “Belt Renewal” programs – many are cashing in to establish new outposts in other systems, hoping to restore the Belt to its former glory. Meanwhile, discontent rises by the day, and terrorist forces have begun a campaign to bring down the government, hoping to carve out the remaining resources for themselves. Conspiracy theories about the ‘truth behind the collapse’ are legion, and the situation is set to explode in the near future unless things change drastically. Notable Locations For a century, Ceres has been the capital of the Belt, and what little prosperity remains to the People’s Belt Republic is concentrated here. The Interplanetary War Memorial is situated here, as is Ceres Tech, the leading zero-gravity research institution in known space. Hundreds of corporations operate out of here – the Belt has become a favoured flag of convenience. A major spaceport construction project is underway, the promise of lucrative Triplanetary Fleet contracts being one of the few shining hopes for the future of the Belt. Vesta station changed hands four times over the course of the Interplanetary War, in one case twice in as many months. The damage caused to the station has never truly been repaired and the local inhabitants are forced to jury-rig and scavenge where they can. As a result, there is a general feeling of abandonment, which criminal gangs have used to move in and fill the power vacuum. Now, many of the companies still operating out of the station are little better than pirates and raiders. Pallas is almost abandoned now. At one time, a hundred thousand people called it home but less than a thousand still remain, the station officially written off in an attempt to preserve precious resources. Only the desperate and the abandoned remain, eking out a marginal existence in the ruins of past glory. Rumours persist that some sort of secret installation has been constructed here, and that the colony was abandoned by the Belt government due to its nefarious purpose. Few ships visit Pallas now, and there have been several unexplained disappearances in the region in recent months...

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Callisto General

Callisto was first reached in 2041 by a joint Euro-Russian expedition, beginning a rapid settlement to exploit the moon and the rest of the Jovian Sub-system. The settlement was used as a means of disposing of political renegades too valuable to simply kill and, by the Third World War, more lived on Callisto than on Mars, an artefact of political will. As much of Eurasia became a nuclear wasteland, populations fled to Jupiter and its moons, hastily carving settlements deep into the ice cap of Callisto. From the beginning, the Callisto Colony considered itself in a war for survival, with the fate of Mercury acting as an ample example of the consequences of disorder. The result was a tightly regimented meritocracy, with dissent punished by long years of forced labour or a one-way trip through an airlock. It worked to maintain order and a greater percentage of the population survived on Callisto than in any other part of the system, though there were still some notable disasters. The arrival of the United Nations changed little, other than the identity of the local leaders. For decades, the population was content to work, the leaders playing a long game to gain greater and greater influence within the United Nations infrastructure. One of their number even rose to the Security Council on sheer merit, an extremely rare achievement even before the Interplanetary War. As the revolution grew, they initially remained staunch loyalists, until the Secretary-General imposed blanket sanctions on all colonies. This decision would have wrecked the Callistan economy, potentially beyond repair. In a heartbeat, the leadership switched sides, signing agreements with the other free colonies of the system to fight for independence. When the fighting came to an end, a strong faction sought to declare the Jovian Republic, but the pragmatic rulers made the decision to connect themselves firmly with Mars and Titan for mutual survival – both military and economic – and thoroughly embraced the new Triplanetary Confederation. Of course, they continued to manoeuvre for greater power and control within the new nation. Settlement in the rest of the Jovian Sub-system was limited, none daring to penetrate Jupiter’s deadly radiation belt, though small outposts exist on many of the outer moons. These are mostly dedicated to mining operations – the local government has always been relatively autarkic, preferring not to depend on outside sources for anything, no matter how minor. The economic costs were justified as investments, and Callisto remained in good stead when the Triplanetary War ended. Today, Callisto’s influence and economy grows, as it is perfectly positioned as a hendecaspace gateway and its own Carter Station surpasses Mariner Station in volumes of extrasolar traffic. While a small Separatist faction remains, the population is largely made up of Triplanetary loyalists. Life on Callisto From birth, Callistans are educated about the requirements of duty, loyalty and the state. They are taught that they should labour for the benefit of all, rather than for themselves. While personal freedom is restricted, cultural freedom is encouraged, and the traditions and languages of all thirty-nine constituent cultures of the original settlers are supported through significant state subsidies. Education and job advancement is strictly meritocratic, assigned as a result of extensive testing. While there are occasional scandals, punishment is quick and ruthless and, conspiracy theories aside, the system actually works and has done so for decades. The leadership is elected, but the candidates are all vetted by a panel of incumbent politicians; as a result, the political leadership is extremely conservative. Rather than spreading out much across the moon, Callisto Colony is one huge city with a population of fifty million, covering a thousand square miles of territory. While smaller settlements exist across the moon, they are dedicated to specific functions, principally resource extraction and defensive installations. Security, both internal and external, is taken extremely seriously, leading to some accusations of institutional paranoia. Visitors, especially those from Titan, generally suffer from significant culture shock at the regimentation of Callistan society. Visually, the domes and habitats are designed along strictly utilitarian lines, but state funding allows lavish decorations. There is hardly a wall left bare of artwork, and music plays from every speaker, provided by the nineteen State Orchestras. Artistic expression has long been seen as a culturally acceptable outlet, and many of the greatest artists and musicians of the 22nd Century call Callisto their home. History is also prioritised, documentaries and dramas available about the ‘Century of Struggle’, the fight to transform Callisto into a safe home for mankind, culminating in the Interplanetary War. Notable Locations Carter Station is one of the largest spaceports in the system, positioned at the Callisto-Jupiter hendecaspace point. It sees a constant stream of commercial traffic from across local space, making it a security nightmare for the Callisto Orbital Patrol. A strong lawless element exists aboard, permitted as a ‘safety valve’ by the Station Police, though any flagrant violations of the rules are instantly punished. The station itself dates back seventy years, its heart containing a cluster of the original colony ships, now a leading tourist attraction. The Nouveau Louvre is, beyond doubt, the leading off-Earth centre of artistic scholarship. At the height of the Third World War, a collection of wealthy French and Russian citizens arranged for the transfer of many of the artistic treasures of Europe to Callisto. This treasure and legacy is treated with the highest reverence to this day. Ten thousand students are admitted each year on a variety of courses to one of the greatest institutes for the study of the humanities ever assembled. By contrast, Fermi University is the leading research centre into hendecaspace in the Sol System, dedicated to the task of pushing humanity further out into the stars, and is heavily funded by the Callistan government to ensure a leading role in such expansion. At present, university scientists are heavily engaged in the ‘Mega-meter Telescope Project’, using a series of telescopes scattered throughout the Jovian Sub-system in order to detect smaller extraSol bodies than have ever been observed before. The survey will take thirty years, but the researchers are confident that, by the time it is completed, they will have identified every object larger than Jupiter within twenty-five light years.

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Titan

General As early as the beginning of the 21st Century, it seemed obvious that Titan would become a major economic player in the development of the Sol System, due to a natural resource that quite literally fell from the sky: sufficient hydrocarbons to fuel Earth’s industries for untold millennia. They could even be used without the environmental consequences that were already beginning to be felt as the age of space colonisation began. The first expedition, one of the last launched under the auspices of NASA, landed on Titan in 2043, and plans for development and exploitation by a series of American-funded corporations began. Many of these were based out of East Africa, taking advantage of an inexpensive and increasingly well-educated workforce. As the Third World War began, all of those corporations were nationalised by the East African Federation, which saw an opportunity to acquire an advanced space program for a fraction of the expected cost. As a result, a second expedition launched from Ethiopia in 2053, carrying a hundred astronauts with the mission of establishing a colony. The original hope had been to use any resources discovered on Titan to catapult the Federation to a major power status, but the deteriorating situation on Earth quickly changed that goal to survival. The East African Federation evacuated as many people as possible and fled into space to avoid the Ecocaust. The journey was long and arduous, and many thousands died en route, but the bulk of the colonists made it to Titan intact, only to find slavery waiting for them. The original settlers, their number now reduced to fifty-two, set themselves up as a ruling caste, using their training and control over the key support systems to dominate the population. This leadership lasted for less than three years before the inevitable revolution. Several members of the first expedition switched sides in order to save their lives and leadership was replaced by an elected council – one devoted to the principles of equality and liberty. For a time, it was the last free democracy in known space. United Nations control over the colony was surprisingly loose, as the valuable resources from Titan were seen as too vital to jeopardise. Over time, however, sufficient restrictions were introduced to cause increasing levels of resentment. The local population eagerly declared themselves as part of the rebellion as soon as the Interplanetary War began, overthrowing the colonial administration and converting many of the mega-ton tankers into improvised warships. Since that time, Titan has been a loyal member of the Triplanetary Confederation, constantly working to keep the government as small as possible, and to retain the local freedoms its citizens have come to prize so much. Paradoxically, Titan is a strong supporter of a unified Fleet, its way of ensuring that neither Mars or Callisto gains undue influence in Triplanetary affairs. Life on Titan Very few people permanently live on Titan itself: the vast majority live in rotating space stations orbiting it, maintaining Earthlike conditions similar to the countries they left behind. These space colonies have preserved much of the wildlife lost during the Ecocaust. Constructing these stations was the greatest achievement of the early settlers, and there is intense pride in that accomplishment: survival with an element of style, in conditions far better than the battered domes of Mars or the Callistan work camps. Running through Titanian literature and culture is the theme of resistance against oppression, a determination never to be conquered again and to maintain freedom at any and all costs. The Triplanetary Confederation is accepted while it is considered a guarantor of that freedom and the population has strongly engaged with the alliance. The government of Titan seems to outsiders to be wildly anarchic, with frequent elections and changes of administration. A stable thread is preserved with the ‘Orbital Agreement’: a general selection of founding principles that all political parties have agreed to, though naturally, approaches differ. For Titanians, debate and politics are a national pastime. As they are used to living in space, most Titanians have ventured to other moons of the Saturnian sub-system before completing school. A far larger fraction of the population is employed as space crew than anywhere else in known space – up to ten percent by some estimates. Titanians are justifiably proud that they have been at the forefront of space exploration since the original settlement of the moon, that their flag flies on merchant ships up to twenty light years away. Aside from Titan itself, there are substantial populations on Mimas and Enceladus, both focused heavily on industries relating to water extraction and tourism. Notable Locations Colony One was the original home of the first settlers, a cluster of long-range colony ships joined together and placed into free orbit around Titan. It was the home of six thousand people for decades, until the decision was finally taken to abandon the settlement, turning it into a monument to both those who made the trip and those who died along the way. Most children spend at least a week here, living the life their ancestors led, to give them a taste of the history their predecessors suffered through. The Robinson Academy is widely regarded as the finest astronautical training centre in the Confederation, turning out two hundred cadets a year that represent the best of merchant shipping. Sponsored by a host of trading companies, the academy dates back to the turn of the 22nd Century. During the Interplanetary War, it switched for a time to training elements of the Titan Militia and many military cadets still spend time there, taking advantage of the School of Astrogation. Dyson’s Landing on Enceladus is one of the greatest tourist spots in the system, the home of a cluster of luxury hotels positioned to take full advantage of the spectacular views of Saturn. It also offers a rare opportunity for spacefarers to experience the wonder of a planetary ocean, diving under the ice sheet in commercial submarines to explore the hidden depths below. A rival to High Vegas in many ways, it has become a home away from home for the great and the good of the Confederation.

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Uranus General Paradoxically, Uranus has become the outermost frontier of the Sol System – it is the most distant major body that is inaccessible via hendecaspace. It therefore requires a transit time of many weeks to reach. Had any significant resources been discovered there early in the era of interplanetary exploration, it might have been different, but the greatest secret to lie in this region would not be uncovered until recently. The first expedition to reach the world was Chinese, launched weeks before the Third World War, forgotten in the midst of the fighting. The astronauts died on Desdemona and their bodies were only recovered in 2167 by the crew of the Battlecruiser Alamo. Twenty years after that first expedition, in one of the last space efforts before the UN took control, the European Space Agency launched a major expedition – three ships – with the goal of establishing a space station as a base for further explorations. It is thought that a handful of colony ships attempted the flight to Uranus, although there is no evidence that any reached it. Investigations into what happened continue. The construction of Shakespeare Station was a guarded success, though it never attained the hoped-for goal. The first wave of exploration of the region found little that could not be more easily extracted closer to home. The discovery of the hendecaspace drive and the final termination of the national and supranational governments in favour of consolidation under the United Nations led to the abandonment of the station. So it remained for decades. During the Interplanetary War, a force of Martian privateers claimed the station after a sixweek trip, establishing that Uranus was a possession of the Triplanetary Confederation, a fact confirmed by the final peace settlements, as much due to lack of interest as anything else. The usual assortment of prospectors and smugglers moved in, hoping to find something that the other powers had missed. They succeeded beyond their wildest dreams. A rogue prospector, operating as part of a family syndicate, discovered an alien base on Desdemona, one of the innermost moons. This discovery was startling enough but the aftermath was still more so – the aliens had tapped a natural nuclear reactor, a source of transuranic elements in quantities never before dreamed of. Unfortunately, both the Asteroid Belt and the Lunar Republic sought to claim this discovery as their own. Some quick-thinking and fast diplomatic work by Captain Marshall and the crew of Alamo averted war, but still left a messy situation (Chronicled in Fermi’s War). The result has been shared jurisdiction, with the Belt and the Lunar Republic each claiming half of the find, and a joint Triplanetary/Republic garrison protects the system from their shared enemy, the United Nations. The forces of Earth are dedicating considerable resources to investigating the increased activity taking place on Uranus. It is hoped that, as well as providing a major boost to the Belt and Triplanetary economies, this joint operation might ease the growing tensions between the Confederation and the Republic. Life on Uranus Uranus is the far frontier – six weeks away from Mars, and a variable time from Saturn and Jupiter, neither of which are in a favourable position in 2168. As such, the population is insular and self-reliant, forced to exist only on what people brought with them and anything that can be made on-site. At present, a minor population explosion is taking place, as Shakespeare Station finally expands to its planned capacity and beyond, a fact which is causing tension among the locals. In addition, the influx of Republic and Belt personnel has turned Uranus into a melting pot, with all that implies: numerous political factions are dancing around each other, trying to gain advantage, even with the nominal peace settlement holding them back. A growing military commitment has resulted in the permanent stationing of two ships by the Republic and the Triplanetary Fleet. By any definition, Uranus is in the middle of an unexpected economic boom, as hundreds of prospectors rove around the planetary system, hoping for a duplication of the discovery on Desdemona – while, officially, all information regarding the alien site is secret, in practice there are few residents unaware of the broad outline of the discovery. Others are flooding in, hoping to take advantage of the surging economy, either as prospectors or as traders. The latter are certainly aware of the secret of any ‘gold rush’: the real profit is made by the man who sells the shovel, not the man who wields it. Notable Locations Shakespeare Station is the home of the vast majority of the local population, swelling now into the high thousands, with more arriving on every transit. Until recently, the facility was significantly underpopulated, but now the reverse problem is the case: there are too many people for the station to safely handle. The marketplaces and Shuttle docks teem with the dregs of humanity, and the local Espatier garrison is increasingly hard-pressed to maintain law and order, especially with so many of the incomers possessing inconvenient diplomatic immunity. Site Nine is the source of the boom, the alien base discovered originally by the first Chinese crew in 2065, and rediscovered by Alamo a century later. The silence of the small moon has been broken by the construction of a joint Belt/Republic research and exploitation station, employing the tightest security of any Triplanetary facility. Once the transuranic elements can be safely extracted, they will revolutionise a dozen industries, and inject billions of Credits into both economies. Access is permitted only through prior arrangement, and subject to veto by either authority. Prospero Base is the latest outpost in Uranus, constructed by a consortium of research companies as a scientific outpost on the fringes of the planetary system. In practice, this is a United Nations outpost, the home of a collection of agents attempting to uncover the secret of Desdemona, both through interception of communications traffic and through the infiltration of Shakespeare Station by agents. Thus far, these agents have accomplished little, and their presence in-system is generally known – though some suspect that it is merely a decoy for some other, darker operation. Or that the United Nations has, very quietly, found something of its own…

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Proxima Centauri General Proxima Centauri was the first system visited by humanity following the invention of the hendecaspace drive. The first ship was a small, two-man capsule, with only limited life support and scientific equipment to record the event. The two brave astronauts risking their lives in an untested ship saw a system that would become the hub of extrasolar space: swarms of mineral-rich asteroids were tucked into easily-accessible locations for extraction, close to hendecaspace points. Quadrillions of Credits were waiting to be made in this region, and the megacorporations were quick to move in to exploit the discovery. Immediately, this caused hostility back at Sol – the Belt’s economy began the fall that continues to this day as extraction facilities moved to Proxima. The bounty of wealthy materials proved an irresistible temptation to a host of resource development companies, of all sizes: swarming prospectors began a series of disruptive ‘claim jumps’. Petty conflicts broke out that required the threat of intervention to finally resolve themselves and, finally, a corporate war was only averted by the draconian imposition of strict control zones. This balance continued until the outbreak of war. Then, the same assets that made Proxima so attractive for development also made it a prime target for hostile action. Triplanetary ships waged war with United Nations convoys, launching a series of hit-and-run raids that brought commerce in the system to a standstill, before bringing in Martian and Titanian extraction ships to replace the mines lost in the early stages of the War. The fighting raged in the system for eight long years, leaving Proxima a battered shell, laden with wrecked ships and destroyed outposts. Even after the prolonged hostilities, control of the system was one of the major points of contention during the peace negotiations. It was finally decided that the system should become neutral territory, open to exploitation by either power, with strict limits established on the level of military force deemed acceptable in the system. In truth, these limits have often been exceeded by both powers in the years since the agreement. Commerce and exploitation has continued at pace, with salvage workers tearing apart the abandoned hulks and outposts for anything they can find, fuelling a brief economic boom. While there have been numerous minor incidents between the powers, none have escalated beyond the level of the diplomatic note – neither the Confederation nor the United Nations is willing to upset the state of affairs in the system for a temporary advantage. There isn’t an exploitation company in known space that doesn’t have at least some assets in Proxima, which is seen as a bottomless pit of resources. Life at Proxima Fifty years ago, Proxima was the furthest frontier of humanity. Two generation later, the few isolated outposts of the earliest days of settlement have been replaced with scattered cities and colonies dotted all across the system, many of them still heavily defended as a result of the fear engendered by the Interplanetary War. A system that was once a lawless wasteland has become civilised and urbane; the battles have been taken into the boardroom, but are no less bloody as a result of that. Most Proximans are contract workers for one of the larger corporations, working on five-year terms that will likely make them wealthy upon the completion of their tours of duty: they earn four or five times the rate they would at Sol. This is beginning to change, however, with the realisation that life at Proxima is little more hazardous than life on Mars or Earth. The hardships suffered by the original colonists are steadily receding into the distance and there is a steadily growing native population. Many veterans from both sides settled here after the war to provide a cadre of experienced, knowledgeable local personnel in the event of the resumption of hostilities. Instead of open war, the system is now a hotbed of corporate intrigue, with dozens of extraction and shipping companies vying for the most lucrative mineral rights, waging a distant proxy war for the benefit of the worlds they call home. Espionage is commonplace, known colloquially as the ‘local sport’, and the limited military presence authorised in the system is often hard-pressed to cope with the complexities of the situation – to the degree that the Captain of Thunderchild requested an economist as his Science Officer when he learned of his ship’s assignment to Proxima! Increasingly, the best, most easily accessible veins are mined dry and the smaller players are moving out of the system, seeking more lucrative opportunities in deep space. This leaves the remains to the larger bulk ore collectors, hundredthousand-ton ships that drift through space, smashing their way through the ancient asteroid belts to gather the mineral ores that keep humanity’s civilisation moving. Notable Locations Einstein Station is the longest permanently-inhabited facility outside Sol System, established shortly after the first exploration in order to monitor the behaviour of the star, as well as a base for the original survey of the numerous planets in the system. The base has expanded to become the most respected institute of stellar studies in known space, funded by grants from all major powers, and is a rare facility where academics from rival governments can meet and mingle. Some of the worst fighting in the War took place in the Larson Strip, a cluster of a quarter-million smaller asteroids nestled in the Persephone Trojans. The site has the richest untapped mineral deposits in the system, but remains dangerous to this day, with unexploded munitions and mines still present in this area. Nevertheless, a few brave spacers dare to enter every year, hoping to make their fortune. Some of them even survive the experience. Donovan Base, named for the first man to land on Persephone, is the nearest thing Proxima has to a capital. Home to a quarter million people and the vast majority of the permanent residents of the system, it serves as the local headquarters for almost every organisation operating here. Security has a shortfall, despite being a priority, and crime is rife due the absence of an effective overarching authority. This city is also the home of a growing movement towards Proximan independence.

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Spitfire Station General Luhman 16 is, in many ways, no different from a thousand other brown dwarves. Due to its exceptional proximity to the Sol system – at a hair under six light years, it is one of the nearest stars to Earth – it was the site of one of the earliest interstellar expeditions. The survey team, which arrived in time to celebrate the beginning of the 22nd Century, found a simple system with only a single gas giant. Naming it Kumar, in honour of the first scientist to conduct serious work on brown dwarves, they went on to chart a pair of moons spinning around it and a debris field in an outer orbit containing ample resources of iron, nickel and ice. Unfortunately, the debris field was too far away for serious exploitation. Under other circumstances, the first visit would likely have been the last, but as the first brown dwarf system explored by humanity, the scientific community lobbied for the construction of a permanent installation, and Spitfire Station was born shortly thereafter. A collection of modules – many of them from older, abandoned stations – were dragged into position to form only the second permanently-manned extrasolar facility. The research has continued since that time, disrupted briefly by the Interplanetary War. Periodically, a host of groups have attempted further exploitation of the system but, despite extended effort, none has ever succeeded in establishing a sound commercial case for extraction of the local resources. The two moons are littered with the remains of dozens of prospecting bases and outposts, some of which even remain in operation, manned by crews abandoned in place when the companies that dispatched them collapsed. The outer belt is home to a series of Belt-affiliated miners, hoping desperately that they find some rare resource, but there has been no success as of yet. Kumar itself has been the subject of much study, and a series of aerostats were established in the upper atmosphere during the 2120s – man-tended installations for research into the nature of the world. There were widespread rumours that some of these bases have been taken over by criminal gangs, with reports that Transports in the system have been coming under attack ever since that time. Several expeditions before the War used Spitfire Station as a staging area for deep-space exploration, but none returned anything conclusive, resulting in the facility becoming something of a backwater. During the War, Spitfire Station was resurrected. It became one of the few secure installations acquired by the Triplanetary Confederation during the early years of the fighting, and was used as a staging area for raids into United Nations territory. The nature of the egress points in this system made it exceptionally easy to defend, requiring only a pair of frigates on permanent patrol. The United Nations garrison conquered by the initial occupation remained for the bulk of the war, many of its members eventually opting to take Triplanetary citizenship, and no serious attempt was ever made to recapture the station. The Treaty of Vesta gave Spitfire Station to the Triplanetary Confederation, one of its few extrasolar possessions recognised by the agreement, but funding was too tight for any development on the system that had never shown any serious promise. After a couple of years, the decision was taken to offer a ninety-nine-year lease at auction and the system was purchased by the Cornucopia Corporation, though details of the company’s intentions were scanty. Since then, little has happened at Spitfire Station, the system once more regressing to the status of a backwater, with only the occasional visit by a Triplanetary starship to break the monotony. Speculations run rampant as to what Cornucopia intends for the system it has purchased, the leading suggestion being a privately-mounted deep-space expedition, or the discovery of a route into uncharted space. At present, though, the system remains much as it has since it was first discovered, a dead end, loved only by the smuggling cartels who use it as a conduit to United Nations territory, providing a route past the otherwise rigorously-enforced blockade. Life on Spitfire Station Over the years, Spitfire Station has been expanded on several occasions, finally attaining its current size at the end of the War. There has never been any attempt to provide artificial gravity, and the station has the unwanted distinction of being the largest occupied zero-gravity facility. Naturally, this has serious implications for long-term occupancy, and it is thought that a significant fraction of the resident population would be unable to survive in most other locations, even in Mars-gravity. As with many such stations, there are two classes of citizen, each with its own territory. The main levels, including the Concourse, are home to two thousand residents, many of them employees of Cornucopia, others maintaining a thriving commercial community for the benefit of the ‘free traders’ passing through on their way to the United Nations. Law and order is kept to a minimum, with only those who actually put the station itself at hazard facing any risk of prosecution – and even then, a hefty bribe will usually serve to make the problem go away. The Underlevels are a different story. Home to those who have nowhere else to go, three thousand people are living in squalor and misery comparable to the worst days of occupied Mars. Medical care is non-existent, malnutrition rampant, and despite demands on the part of many activists for the Triplanetary Senate to step in and deal with the situation, thus far there have been no efforts to do so. The harsh reality is that there are more urgent problems to deal with at home, and that such a relief effort would not only be extraordinarily expensive, but would likely require the revocation of Cornucopia’s charter. For most, Spitfire can be a place of opportunity – a true ‘free port’ with all that implies – but there is no safety net, and the price of failure is permanent residency. Everyone in the Underlevels has their own story of treachery, abandonment and despair, and every ship that arrives brings a cluster of people who are destined to join their desperate ranks. Having said that, there are fortunes to be made here for the lucky, and more than a few millionaires made their start on the fleshpots and bazaars of Spitfire Station.

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part 1: the universe

United Nations Trust Territory The origins of what would become United Nations Trust Territory reach back to the earliest days of interstellar exploration. Early expeditions found much of scientific interest, but little of value for commercial exploitation, and there were some serious discussions about the merits of the programme, and whether it should be continued at all. These changed in 2103, with the discovery of the first Earth-like planet, the ocean world of Thalassa, orbiting Epsilon Eridani. Immediately, discussions began as to the best use of the world. That it would be colonised was not disputed; that some sort of framework had to be established for political control was equally certain. The interplanetary colonies had been brought into the United Nations in an ad-hoc manner, but there was no doubt that Thalassa – and a year later, Arcadia – were far greater prizes than cold Mars or distant Titan could ever be, and the remnants of the nationalist movements began to agitate for settlement rights. The Security Council turned to the old concept of ‘Trust Territories’, one that had been used extensively in the third quarter of the 21st Century for regions that were unable to govern themselves. Even today, several areas of Earth retain this status, notably parts of the Indian subcontinent and Australia, as well as United Nations Headquarters itself in Geneva. This placed the new settlement under a recognised legal framework and, with one sweeping declaration, the United Nations claimed the entire galaxy as the United Nations Trust Territory, to be run by representatives of the Security Council itself. There were good reasons for this ambitious claim: already, some corporations were stating intentions of running worlds or systems for themselves, attempting spurious legal claims based on dubious rights of ownership. The UN claiming the entire galaxy forestalled all such disputes overnight. The United Nations Space Fleet was theoretically tasked with patrolling the Trust Territory, but the limited ships at its disposal rendered this impractical. It would not be until the aftermath of the Interplanetary War that a full security crackdown began. Now, each major world has an orbital defence network and Fighter garrison, ready to defend against any conceivable threat. Following the Treaty of Vesta, the Trust Territory – while theoretically encompassing its previous ambitious reach – consists of fourteen systems, with dozens of outposts, stations and colonies scattered across the light years. There has been no expansion since the War; the Security Council has instead elected to concentrate on consolidation rather than colonisation, in response to increasing concerns about potential restlessness among the colonial population – those in charge do not want a second revolution, nor for Earth to lose its few remaining deep space settlements. Barnard’s Star This was one of the first systems settled, a vital resource hub for the United Nations. It has become ever more vital with access to the Belt curtailed and Proxima Centauri divided between the major powers. The system is dominated by Gatewood, a super-jovian with thousands of moons, the bulk of them captured asteroids. These come from the Crystal Ring, an inner asteroid belt, close to the star. As a result, exploitation of local resources is simple, but defending the system is a perpetual nightmare for the United Nations Space Fleet, due to the number of hendecaspace points, with no practical strategic plan ever conceived. During the War, this system was a frequent battleground, with Fighters and other small ships from both powers working their way through the rubble. It took half a decade for the system’s economy to recover from the near-constant fighting. Even today, munitions dumps and ordnance are still found on a constant basis, and many of the prospectors working in-system could better be described as arms dealers than miners. Accidents are commonplace: longforgotten missiles and mines are triggered by careless Shuttle jockeys on a weekly basis. There is no single large settlement here. Dozens of space stations move from one moon to another, working the mines until either the mineral deposits are depleted or the market shifts. While hundreds of thousands of people work here, there are no actual colonies: none of the moons are suitable for long-term settlement. Nevertheless, there are sufficient mineral resources in this system alone to support the needs of Earth for untold centuries, so the garrison maintained to protect it is the largest outside of the Sol System: two capital ships and a dozen squadrons on constant guard. Petty squabbles, however, remain common. Claim jumpers often attempt to muscle smaller operators out of the way, and given the sheer quantity of firepower lying around for the taking, this has led to numerous duels between extraction companies. While, in theory, the United Nations marshals should handle this problem, patrolling such a wide area of space is impractical. The consensus established is that the miners will be left to handle their own affairs. It is rumoured that several resistance cells work out of this area, though little activity has been reported in recent years. In truth, Barnard’s Star is dangerous enough, even without a revolution. Sentinel Station  The most vital hub in United Nations space, Sentinel Station is the primary link between Earth and the two major colony worlds. The realities of hendecaspace travel made it impossible to travel to either Epsilon Eridani or Tau Ceti in a single jump, but the otherwise unimpressive system of UV Ceti was perfectly positioned to allow transit between the three stars. It became a key strategic point as soon as construction was completed in 2110. Right from the outset, it was intended that this facility should serve two purposes: as a forward base for the colonisation effort and as a secure fleet anchorage, even when a real battle fleet was no more than the dreams and hopes of a collection of armchair admirals. During the decades before the Interplanetary War, more than a million people passed through the station on their way to a new world, waiting out the transit time while their ships prepared for the one-way trip to their destination. A handful – the lucky and the wealthy – might return to see their families back on Earth once more, but most were destined to live and die in their new homes. Trade began to flow back in the other direction before the War broke out, and even while the fighting was raging, the Triplanetary Confederation made no serious attempt to attack the station or raid the ships passing through. In truth, the

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Section 3: Locations local defences were simply too strong for the fleets the Triplanetary Confederation could muster to overcome the station’s defences. As a result, limited exploitation of the otherwise insignificant local resources began, some companies taking the advantage of a truly secure system to provide vitally needed raw materials to the shipyards in Earth orbit, though none of these efforts lasted as soon as Barnard’s Star became safe once more. Since the War, Sentinel Station has returned to its former role as a trading hub. With increasing two-way traffic, as the maturing colonies began to send their wares back to a tired Earth, it is slowly beginning to repay the massive investment the Security Council made half a century ago. The UN Fleet retains a strong presence, and now administers the facility. Security checks are extremely tight, though intelligence agents from every major government still operate here, under the radar. Technically, only ships flying the flag of the United Nations are permitted to visit, though special permission is occasionally granted to other ships. Thalassa  When the first ships reached Epsilon Eridani, the people aboard could hardly believe the readings on sensors. They displayed a world upon which humans could walk… or, at least, swim. The first landings on Thalassa confirmed all the original reports, and made it clear that a world that could become a second Earth had finally been discovered. Back home, applications for settlement flooded in, even before any official announcements were made, and it was clear that the Security Council would have to move quickly to colonise the planet. Pioneer teams were dispatched within two years, preparing the ground for settlement, the isolated archipelagoes enduring waves of construction as prefabricated buildings were hastily assembled. Amid the jubilation, protests raged – Thalassa had complex life and it was feared that the influx of organisms from Earth would either result in a disaster or an extinction-level event. It was then that the Great Mystery was uncovered, one that has been a highly classified secret ever since: Thalassan organisms were compatible with Earth, to the point that it almost appeared that the world had been terraformed, and in the relatively recent past. Tame ecologists were dragged to the fore with theories of parallel development to pacify the public, but as the reality of the situation became clear, work was begun to learn how such a project could have been undertaken. The system was swept for signs of alien life. None were found, nor any evidence that the world had ever been settled at all. Seeking out signs of this long-forgotten culture has been a top priority for UN science teams ever since. Since colonisation, expansion has been rapid: the birth rate has long since passed the immigration rate, and five million people now call Thalassa their home. While the population was carefully screened for loyalists, the younger generations are increasingly calling for more self-government, and the Security Council has agreed to some limited experiments with local democracy, albeit under strict supervision, on the principle that any step to avoid a second revolution should be taken as required. There are increasing concerns that the world is approaching its maximum capacity, though experiments with undersea settlements and floating cities are hoped to mitigate this problem in the near future. At present, though, Thalassa is the ‘jewel in the crown’ of the United Nations. Arcadia  Sometimes, as a result of Thalassa’s status, Arcadia feels like something of an afterthought. Another inhabitable planet, the second discovered in known space, it was far less promising than Thalassa, even at first sight. The gravity is a little high, the air a little dense, and the temperature a little hot, with wide desert zones around the equator. The population is clustered in the higher latitudes, generally at elevated altitudes where feasible. When given a choice, most would opt for the luxurious ocean world, meaning that many of the original Arcadians were involuntary settlers, often conscripted after some misdeed back on Earth. Remnant populations of destroyed countries were, in some cases, dropped onto the world in one mass, to sink or swim. Despite this, the colony reached self-sufficiency shortly before the War, and served a valuable purpose as a prison camp – though many prisoners of war managed to escape the compounds, none could escape the planet. Some remain to this day hiding in the wilderness, plotting their revenge. Arcadian settlements are small and isolated, with no cities of significant size permitted by the colonial administration. Most of these individuals never even visit the planet, preferring the confines of their orbital settlements. Recently, reformist groups in the Security Council have begun to advocate for a change in policy regarding Arcadia; concerns of rising numbers of dissidents and the infiltration of Triplanetary agitators have led to fears of an uprising that might be difficult to suppress. A new wave of loyalist colonists is being planned, with retiring UN Space Force personnel being offered substantial land grants and funding to establish themselves on the planet. Alongside this, a significant increase to the colonial budget has been promised, permitting the establishment of new facilities on the surface, designed to drastically improve the quality of life for the settlers. In reality, this is too little, too late and, unknown to United Nations Intelligence, the revolution that is feared is on the verge of beginning. Rebel groups have gathered across the planet in a bid to displace the hated colonial administration and replace it with self-rule. Ironically, the very dispersal of the population mandated by the Security Council could become the rebels’ greatest asset should they come under attack – orbital bombardment will likely be ineffective as a means of suppressing the revolt. Tens of thousands of troops would be required, and there is considerable doubt whether such a force could be successfully mustered and deployed. The situation on Arcadia is increasingly unstable, and likely to worsen in the

near future.

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part 1: the universe

Deep Space

Humanity has spread throughout the stars. The years before the Interplanetary War led to a great wave of exploration and colonisation that was only brought to an end with the economic dislocation inevitably brought about by the conflict. Most stars within one or two jumps of Sol have some established presence – even if it is just a small fuelling station for the occasional unwary traveller – and most worlds within three or four jumps have at least been visited by mankind, even if that visitation failed to lead to any permanent occupation. It is impossible to count the number of small outposts and colonies established over the decades, not even including the ‘lost colonies’ that are currently being rediscovered by the Triplanetary Confederation and the United Nations. Less than a quarter of all colonies are sponsored by any government, with about the same number run by the military or security services. As for the rest, they make a melange of corporate, illegal or refugee outposts scattered throughout the stars. Some are determinedly independent, while others are little more than labour camps. There is no master list, and no census is practical – even the combined militaries of all governments would be unable to police and patrol this amount of space. Despite the fervent wishes of the UN Security Council, the Lunar Central Committee and the Triplanetary Senate, the broad field of stars are too big an area to effectively govern. Though more than forty stars are known or believed to have some degree of human occupation, the vast bulk of humanity has nestled closer to home, only one or two jumps from Sol, secure in the knowledge that they are able to return home if they wish. Somehow, access to the vast, endless void has forced humanity to huddle close to home, as if for warmth, sensing there is something strange in the darkness beyond. The further a traveller goes, the more seldom the shipping runs, the smaller the outposts and the greater the paranoia that descends. Alpha Centauri This system proved something of a disappointment, after the long-range telescopic survey that had revealed a host of planets, including this one with a potentially Earth-like environment. At closer range, it became apparent that the surface was swathed in constant storms that would permit no landing or exploration – the first two expeditions to try and reach the planet died in the attempt. A complete survey of the system was completed by the second interstellar expedition, one launched by the Lunar Republic. It was Republic vessels that laid claim to the more valuable areas of the system, specifically the asteroid belts close to the primary star, which are rich in rare elements and minerals. The remainder of the system was settled by a series of corporations, who were provided with lucrative grants by the United Nations when the Security Council was unwilling to simply concede one of the closest stars to Earth without even a fight, regardless of the economic realities. A handful of outermost worlds were originally settled by a Titanian consortium, though they were later sold to a religious group seeking isolation from the rest of humanity. Their isolation continues to this day, long-range observations only confirming that they are still alive, and continuing whatever it is they have been doing for five decades and counting. It was more than a year before the Interplanetary War reached Alpha Centauri. Initially, there had been some hopes that the Triplanetary Confederation would refrain from attacking the settlements in this region, but it rapidly became apparent that this was only wishful thinking, and a series of well-planned raids shut down all in-system commerce in a matter of weeks. This isolated the colonies from the rest of space. The half-million colonies cried for assistance, but there was little that the United Nations Fleet could do to help them – UN vessels were needed elsewhere to protect colonies and resource zones vital to the ongoing war effort. Ultimately, civilian casualties were light, but the worlds of Alpha Centauri – with the notable exception of those settled by the Lunar Republic – were forced to live in a state of siege for six years. As a result, the local settlers are biased against the Triplanetary Confederation and the four inhabited worlds boast the highest proportion of veterans in any part of United Nations territory. Once the war ended, space-based defences were constructed in orbit around all four planets within the system. Paradoxically, the efforts its colonists were forced to make for self-sufficency have finally put Alpha Centauri into profit, attracting ever-increasing investment. Wolf 359  This star has often been described as the ‘failed frontier’, a system that initially promised much but ultimately proved a disappointment. Early surveys found little of value for interstellar exploitation, but an egress point was discovered close to a cluster of ice-laden asteroids, eminently suitable for fuel processing. Carpenter Station was rapidly constructed to serve as a jumping-off point for future exploration, and several other worlds in the system were settled. Many of these colonists were from Mars and Callisto – restless individuals seeking new adventures around other suns. When the first great wave of exploration reached out to the stars one jump away from Wolf 359, they found nothing of interest. There were no exploitable resources, no Earth-like worlds, nothing that could attract explorers or investors. Around that time, scouts first located Thalassa and the tide of humanity immediately turned away from Wolf 359, heading in a completely different direction, leaving the system to wither and fade. For decades, the colonies struggled on. Development corporations were left with worlds that were of no intrinsic value, some closing down operations and moving, others determined to hold on for better times in the future, hoping that a new wave of exploration might find something missed by the first. It took decades of lobbying, but finally the Security Council agreed to sponsor another expedition, planned to range further than the first. Before it could depart, however, the Interplanetary War began. The worlds of Wolf 359 had always been independently-minded and the fact that they had been settled largely from the worlds who rebelled meant that they quickly declared themselves allied with the Triplanetary Confederation. The United Nations rapidly gave them up as a lost cause, due to their little inherent strategic value. There was little fighting in-system

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Section 3: Locations after the first brief months of the revolt: a handful of loyalist colonies held out against the rebel assault, both sides using improvised weapons and converted ships to press their attacks. By the end of the first year, it was all over and, under the terms of the Treaty of Vesta, the system passed to the Confederation. This represented a new problem. The new government struggled to keep its economy going under the onslaught of the blockade, but the hoped-for investment was not forthcoming. However, a ship of the Triplanetary Fleet is finally scheduled to begin the long-awaited deep-space survey, and the inhabitants of a dozen worlds wait with baited breath for the results that will determine the ultimate destiny of their system. Procyon This system has always been a stronghold of the Lunar Republic. The first ships to reach the system made the discovery that Procyon III was able to support life, at least after a fashion, with an oxygen-nitrogen atmosphere, though it has an average temperature far above Earth norms. Nevertheless, any world where humans could walk without a suit, could breathe the air, grow crops, drink the water was a highly valuable commodity. The Republic kept everything about this world secret for over a decade, as the first pioneer colonists arrived For more than fifty years, there was no follow-up – only the few isolated settlements placed to claim the planet as theirs. Republic ships roamed local space, seeking better prospects for colonisation. The United Nations had the good fortune of finding two suitable worlds in short order. For a time, many believed that – despite all the early theories – life might be relatively plentiful among the stars. Based on that, the Central Committee elected not to sponsor large scale settlement, though a military base was established in orbit to claim the system. A small expedition team from Earth eventually explored the system for themselves, discovering the truth about it. There was never any rivalry for control between the two powers, with the bulk of the UN’s extrasolar activity focused on Thalassa and Arcadia – the Security Council was more than content for the Republic to devote its attention to a near-useless system. Recently, this all changed: the Republic assembled a fleet of colony ships, sending ten thousand people to Procyon III in the first wave of settlement, with others to follow. The final key to settlement lay in biogenetics – Republican scientists are convinced that they will be able to terraform the world in less than a century, turning it into a second Earth. The Central Committee has finally released the funds to make that dream a reality. Lalande 21185 For decades, this system was written off as not worth exploiting. It hosted a trio of planets, one of them admittedly suitable for life, but only barely – the snow-smothered world of Ragnarok was well-named, locked in a perpetual ice age and boasting only limited resources and potential. After a few brief surveys to collect samples of local life, none of which had progressed beyond single-celled organisms, nobody visited the world or the system for decades. Even the War never reached it, though there were a few reports of Republic ships in the area. Unknown to the wider universe, one of the ships launched to the stars in the period of desperation following the Third World War finally made planetfall at Ragnarok twenty-two years ago. The settlers, survivors who were originally from the Australasian Republic, believed themselves to be the sole survivors of humanity, and rapidly began to spread out across the planet, cannibalising their ships to build the first settlement. The ten thousand men, women and children assumed they were alone to face the elements. For the first two decades, they remained alone, struggling to maintain and construct a technological civilisation, not knowing what was taking place all around them. While the records do not report any visits, it is likely that some occurred, and there are a few hints of secret contacts between the government and the occasional trader in the Ragnarok archive. From the beginning, Ragnarok was under martial law, the crew of the colony ship maintaining control. At first, this was supported – the need for strong, centralised government was obvious and the rule of the first leader was popular. His successors were less so, however, and a civil war began when some of the outlying settlements rebelling against the central authority, hoping to topple the increasingly oppressive government and replace it with an elected administration. The Lunar Republic intervened. One of its ships had discovered the settlement on Ragnarok by accident, and the Central Committee was quick to offer aid and assistance to the struggling colony. Republic officials also made sure sufficient strings were attached to transform Ragnorok into a Republic puppet state. The government of Ragnarok agreed in desperation and it appeared that the Republic would acquire its second habitable world, until the arrival of the Battlecruiser Alamo. A trio of Triplanetary Freighters had blundered into the system, planning to conduct a survey of the worlds to determine suitability for colonisation (All rumours that Triplanetary Intelligence was behind this operation have been strenuously denied!). The garrison at Ragnarok, two ships supplied by the Republic, fought off the ships they believed were invading their system. When the Freighters failed to return, however, the Battlecruiser Alamo was dispatched to investigate. (As chronicled in ‘The Price of Admiralty’.) Lieutenant-Captain Marshall, on his first mission in command of a ship, successfully brokered a peace between the Triplanetary Confederation and Ragnarok, blocking the Lunar Republic’s intervention and destroying the arms shipment that could have brought the nightmare of total war to the planet. When he returned home, he was accompanied by a diplomatic party from Ragnarok who immediately petitioned for Associate Status within the Triplanetary Confederation, and it seems likely that this will be granted in the very near future, if for no other reason than to forestall Republic ambitions in this area.

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Section 3: Locations

Mysteries of Deep Space For two centuries, humanity has been exploring deep space. In that time, many strange and unexplained phenomena have been reported. A few, such as the Ice Worms of Ganymede, were eventually explained scientifically. Many others still stubbornly remain unsolved, even after generations of scientific study.  A few are closely guarded, secrets jealously protected by their discoverers, while others have become major tourist attractions visited by thousands of space-faring travellers every year. The Emerald Star was discovered during the earliest days of interstellar exploration, embedded in an asteroid orbiting Alpha Centauri B. The asteroid had obviously been positioned in a stable orbit at some point in its past. It bears evidence of prior occupation: regularly-carved passages and tunnels network the mile-long body. In terms of advanced technology, only the Emerald Star itself remains, permanently bonded to the rock on a molecular level. A mile long, it bears text in thousands of different languages, evidently a ‘space Rosetta Stone’ that has thus far eluded decryption, despite the development of a permanent settlement on the asteroid devoted to linguistic research. Many tourist liners make the trip to visit this strange monument to an unknown race, gleaming softly in the starlight for all time. At a depth of eighty thousand feet under the ice of Europa, where no man has yet visited due to the deadly radiation from Jupiter, lies the Obelisk. Discovered in the late 21st Century by a robot submersible, it is a huge, regular structure, bearing no markings of any kind, though it is made of an artificial alloy. This material has thus far eluded any attempt at investigation or duplication, proving impenetrable to any technique developed by the Triplanetary Confederation. Plans are underway to bring the artefact to the surface to allow closer examination, though there is a strong local faction campaigning for it to remain where it currently rests. The outermost limits of the Ross 154 System hold the Sargasso Cluster, a collection of tumbling spaceship wrecks that date from the distant past. Most of them are of completely alien design, though a few appear as though they might have held humans at one time. The survey team that discovered them reported that they seemed to have been destroyed in battle: scans revealed ample evidence of weapons damage. The wrecks themselves are little more than bare metal now, looted by some unknown culture millennia before humanity first left Earth, and lie in a highly eccentric orbit that makes visitation difficult at best, though a close flyby will be possible in 2167. The Bald Man defends Endurance Pass on Triton, and is one of the greatest mysteries of the Sol System, though some believe it to be a century-old prank dating from the first expedition to that distant moon. A quarter-mile high statue of a human, it straddles the pass that leads to the primary colony, carved out of the rock by advanced technology. Some archaeologists place the date of its origin at 10,000BC... and others label these archaeologists as deluded cranks. Despite a thorough search of the moon, no other evidence of extraterrestrial activity has ever been found, and the presence of the Bald Man remains unexplained to this day. One of the truly unique mysteries of known space is the Sentinel, a target only detected on long-range sensors. This body is a thousand miles in diameter and appears to be traversing human-controlled space at a significant fraction of light speed. It follows a course that takes it on a tangled tour of every world occupied by humanity, but it remains so distant that no ship has ever been able to get close. Numerous attempts to determine the origin or the course of the object have failed, though there is a theory – one increasing in credibility – that it is heading towards Earth itself, and that it may arrive before the turn of the next century. A sadder mystery is that of Megiddo, the fourth world in the Epsilon Indi System. It should be as suitable for human life as Thalassa, but is instead a radioactive hellscape that only hardened probes may approach. There is plenty of evidence that a thriving civilisation once existed here: there are ruins of cities softly glowing in the darkness and a ring of debris in orbit that perhaps once was a network of satellites. All the evidence suggests that the Megiddans, whoever they were, had reached a level of technology approximately that of 20th Century Earth before being destroyed, though whether this was by fighting among themselves or some sort of alien invasion remains unexplained. The world is a sad monument to a lost civilisation, and a warning of what might have happened to Earth if the Third World War had gone a little differently. There is no scientific consensus on whether the Rainbow Cluster is artificial or not, but the swarm of multi-coloured crystalline asteroids in tight orbit around Barnard’s Star are renowned as one of the most awe-inspiring sights in the galaxy. The cluster is made up of a thousand shimmering “stars” into which one can navigate wearing a spacesuit. One of the greatest tourist attractions in space after Saturn’s rings, there is some concern that frequent activity might disturb the asteroids’ orbit. The United Nations is planning the imposition of strict controls on who might visit, in order to preserve this wonder for future generations. The Undertunnels of Avalon are perhaps the most well-known of the deep-space mysteries, hundreds of miles of tunnels discovered by the first settlers of Avalon, an ice-locked world orbiting Wolf 359. Remarkably, the tunnels are airtight, rapidly becoming adopted as a major settlement. Generations of children have marvelled at the strange hieroglyphs on the walls, unable to find meaning in them. Recently, educational scientists have conducted surveys which suggest that the children of Avalon are naturally brighter and are able to learn languages more rapidly than those born elsewhere, though these studies remain disputed. The local population is extremely resistant to any further work along these lines.

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Section 4: Historical Events

Hendecaspace Drive The hendecaspace drive was one of the greatest discoveries – and scientific embarrassments – of the 21st Century.  Since the firm establishment of theoretical proofs of the multiverse theory of reality, research teams across the Sol System had been working on a means to harness the potential of other-universal travel, in a final effort to break the lightspeed barrier.  In reality, unknown to them, an earlier version of this drive had been created – and the secret lost – during the Third World War. However, that variant was rudimentary and extremely unreliable. None of the major projects succeeded. In the end, a four-strong research team in Trinity College, Dublin, operating on a shoestring budget, were the last hope for this route. They had no choice but to raise the money for their test flight by public subscription, and as they prepared for their launch, they found themselves the subject of wide-spread derision. Finally, on August 9th, 2087, the lead researcher’s five-year-old daughter threw the switch. It worked. Suddenly, the universe was opened.  The discovery became the exclusive property of the United Nations, the research team being granted billions of Credits to perfect and improve the drive. The derision melted quickly and the research team were hailed as heroes. The little girl, Niamh Flynn, would be Secretary-General fifty years later – running as ‘the woman who gave the stars to humanity.  Five exploration ships were hastily constructed and launched within a decade. They were sent on extended expeditions to the stars, with the goal of surveying every system within twelve light years.  Only two of those five ships made it home, but those two brought back enough information to launch a wave of colonisation, hastily converted ships flying to Proxima Centauri, UV Ceti and a dozen other systems to begin a carefully planned wave of exploration.  By 2100, the first habitable planet, Thalassa, had been discovered orbiting Epsilon Eridani, a world almost entirely covered in water, with breathable air. The first settlers left within a decade. Shortly thereafter, Arcadia, an even more promising world, was found orbiting Tau Ceti. These two worlds became the immediate focus of the extrasolar colonisation effort. Only this ‘first expansion’ was completed before the onset of the Interplanetary War. While individual ships have roved further on privately sponsored missions, the intended ‘Twenty Light Year Expansion’ has been indefinitely postponed. However, both the Lunar Republic and Triplanetary Confederation are rumoured to be planning such an exploration plan in the near future, certainly within the next decade. Naturally, there are some laws that govern faster than light (FTL) travel. Nobody has yet managed to travel further than 8.03 light years in a single jump. Every major power has been working on the development of better drives for decades, and there are some suggestions that in the long-term, jumps of ten, or even twenty light years might be possible – a development which would alter the shape of the universe overnight. Perhaps the more stringent limit is the requirement to attain dimensional stability. No jumps of longer than five days (or to be precise, 122 hours, 9 minutes, 3 seconds) are possible and an equal amount of time must be spent in normal space in between jumps. In the early days of interstellar travel, there were many who attempted to violate those rules. None ever returned from hendecaspace, the best theories suggesting that they are lost in that other-dimensional reality forever, unable to return to normal space. In addition, hendecaspace travel is only possible between points of gravitational stability (Lagrange Points), and only then when both bodies have at least a reasonable comparative mass. Mars:Sol and Callisto:Jupiter are about at the lower limit of possibility. This means that Mercury, Venus and Uranus have no hendecaspace points, which has proven to be a major limitation to the development of those worlds, turning them effectively into interplanetary backwaters due to the inability to reach them quickly. Further, tearing open a hole in the fabric of reality consumes a vast amount of power. Few ships are able to make more than a pair of jumps with the fuel carried on board – only the rare exceptions such as the Thermopylae-class Battlecruisers and the United Nations Dreadnought are able to manage multiple jumps. This has been a major hindrance to long-range exploration, requiring the deployment of depots and fuel refineries to permit extended routes. Recent improvements in reactor technology suggest that more efficient ships will come in the near future. The long-anticipated antimatter reactors remain firmly on the drawing board, with rumours of the occasional catastrophic test by the various factions. Eighty years of interstellar travel has taken humanity to dozens of new systems. Naturally, the limitations of interstellar travel have influenced humanity’s expansion into space: most systems, no matter how resource poor, have at least one small outpost and fuelling station to support passing ships. The search for brown dwarves has become a major strategic concern, with every major power developing better detection techniques in order to reap any potential advantage, as the discovery of a new brown dwarf could open up vital new access routes into deep space. Those systems with multiple egress points, such as Proxima Centauri, have become critical hubs but are harder to defend. Many of the key egress points in the Sol System are home to substantial defensive/commercial installations, though there are still a few unguarded paths into the system for those willing to brave extended travel times. Uranus:Sol, for example, is known as a smuggler’s route and, given its location in disputed space, is almost undefended. It is possible to track hendecaspace discharges made by ships returning to normal space, even at extreme range, through the detection of dimensional instability. In a system, this makes it all but impossible to hide the arrival of a starship. One of the most closely guarded secrets of every government is that, for the last decade, there have been an increasing number of unaccounted-for bursts of instability in stars that supposedly have yet to be explored. It is as though some unknown power is out there, hiding in the dark. And, year after year, it is getting closer.

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The Six Battlecruisers The iconic starships of the Triplanetary Fleet are the Thermopylae-class Battlecruisers. Ironically, they were never intended for war: as the first wave of interstellar exploration came to an end, the United Nations Space Service planned a series of longer-ranged missions, roving for up to fifty light years at a time, exploring a dozen systems with each journey. It took ten years to convince the Security Council of the desirability of this mission plan, and even then, construction of the ships had to serve two masters. In the 2130s, discontent in the colonies was growing. The decision was therefore taken to construct the new starships in the Martian and Callistan shipyards, primarily to act as a kick-start for investment in moribund facilities. At the time, many protested this decision, and their fears would prove well-founded in the years to come. The design of what originally was named the ‘Antares Class’ incorporated the latest thinking in starship construction. The ships are each formed of a half-mile cylinder that rotates to provide artificial gravity. This cylinder consists of a thousand modules connected by corridors and service ducts, while the remainder of the interior is filled with fuel and oxygen tanks. These new ships could manage four jumps without refuelling, allowing thirty-plus light years of travel without support. They were equipped with the best sensor package that could be designed, fabricators to produce spare parts, and life support for the hundred-and-twenty crew for two years. Each was intended to be the flagship of an exploratory fleet, designed to spread humanity across the stars. Then the Interplanetary War began. The tensions leading to the final rebellion caught many by surprise. While the order was given to destroy the ships in their docks, enough of the workforce was loyal to the colonies that the order was disobeyed and the ships were spared. None of the vessels under construction were truly ready for service, but they were able to be rushed to provide the nucleus of an interstellar-capable fleet for the nascent Triplanetary Confederation. Naturally, there had to be changes. The central core had been intended as a vast sensor array, but that was removed and replaced with the largest laser cannon ever constructed, with experts from three worlds working together on the project. Missile tubes and launch bays for Fighters were needed – a thousand different changes were implemented as the yard crews raced to complete the ships. The early years of the fighting raged around them, United Nations Intelligence constantly attempting to sabotage the new capital ships at every opportunity. Despite the UN’s best efforts, the newlychristened Thermopylae launched in 2152. The remaining ships would come into service over the next two years, giving the Confederation its first true fleet. Their addition of the Thermopylae-class Battlecruisers to the fleet instantly changed the shape of battle. Initially, the ships were employed in a conventional combat role as a line-of-battle, but it rapidly became obvious that the ships would excel in a different capacity: they were employed as commerce raiders that could race from system to system, unpredictably hitting transports, tankers and even small outposts, causing the economic disruption that would ultimately win the war. When they were able to steal fuel from United Nations facilities, some of the ships operated on their own for months, even years at a time, never needing to return to base. Their commanding officers acted with total independence to take whatever actions they thought necessary in order to effectively prosecute the war. All six ships survived the war, all of them with distinguished battle careers. Thermopylae became a public relations tool as much as an active warship, serving with distinction during a series of campaigns that kept her close to home. She served as Admiral Kurikov’s flagship during the Battle of Neptune, snatching the far-flung outpost out of the jaws of a United Nations task force, and then engaged in actions in Alpha Centauri, leaping from one star to another, keeping a fleet of three ships tied up for months. Her early success would be her downfall: the Provisional Government decided that her reputation was too important to risk on the missions allotted to her sisters. She was instead assigned to convoy duty, guarding the few interstellar outposts operated by the Confederation. In addition, she was converted for the ‘Doomsday Fleet’, to hold a government-in-exile, should Mars ever fall, intended to transport a nucleus of survivors to a hidden redoubt. Interviews since the end of the War have revealed that much of this plan was only on the drawing board, intended more to occupy United Nations Intelligence than as a serious last-ditch strategy. Camaron was the second ship launched, and she had a far more effective, if lower-profile, career. Initially, she operated in concert with Thermopylae during her raids on Alpha Centauri, but her commander soon opted to work independently, heading into deep space on a hazardous flight through uncharted space to catch enemy forces at YZ Ceti by surprise. It was a desperate, dangerous gamble, but it worked spectacularly well, allowing the destruction of a dozen Transports and Escorts at a staging area the Security Council had believed safe from attack. This was the first of several such show-piece raids, masterminded by the legendary Captain Flint, regarded to this day as the greatest tactician Mars ever produced. Next came the attack on the shipyards of Thalassa, destroying a United Nations Monitor at anchor. A series of feints across the frontier followed, culminating in the capture of the gadolinium mines at Ross 128. Finally, Flint’s luck ran out: a traitor sabotaged key systems on his ship during an attack on the outer worlds of Barnard’s Star. Even then, he managed to nurse his crippled ship home to Mariner Station, though the repairs required were extensive enough that the ship played no further part in the War. Masada came into service just in time to be pressed into the meatgrinder that had become the Second Battle of Vesta, waves of ships being sent in by both sides in a desperate attempt to secure the strategic position. Her intervention was critical, an overloaded Fighter complement going toe-to-toe with United Nations forces, and Vesta fell to Triplanetary forces in early 2153, though this would be reversed soon afterwards in the Third Battle of Vesta.

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Section 4: Historical Events Her later career was just as notable: she was involved in a series of hit-and-run operations at Epsilon Eridani to assist the failed revolt on the planet. Unfairly, much of her war record would be written off as a failure; her tactical triumphs too often became strategic defeats. Finally, she took part in the last major action of the War, the Battle of the Trojans, where she rescued the survivors of the crippled Carrier Curtiss before the ship was destroyed by a malfunctioning reactor. Alamo needs little introduction, though her service record during the Interplanetary War was actually rather limited compared to her sisters. Her commander operated almost exclusively at Proxima Centauri, spending more than a year launching raids on prospecting outposts and mineral transports, before being forced to shift operations to Wolf 359 as local defences firmed up. Before departing, however, the commander was able to seed two Fighter squadrons on hidden asteroid bases to continue the fight for the system. Later, the Alamo was recalled to the Sol System to take part in some of the later battles of the war, first serving as an escort for Carriers, then breaking the prolonged Siege of Pallas as the flagship of a predominantly Martian fleet, though the ship was nominally under the flag of the Callisto Orbital Patrol. For the final three months of the war, she was the Triplanetary guard ship for the peace negotiations on Pluto, serving as the home for the diplomatic delegation that negotiated the final treaties that brought the War to a close. The Battlecruisers Shiroyama and Thunderchild were launched together, urgently hurried into service after the disastrous defeat at Third Vesta, and were thrown almost immediately into battle after an abbreviated shakedown cruise. Their joint actions against elements of the United Nations Fleet at Procyon became legendary, two ships fighting against heroic odds for no other reason than to hold the enemy back and to tie them down long enough to allow the Triplanetary Fleet to rearm. It had not seriously been expected that either ship would survive the battle and the fact that they both came home more or less intact was a testament to the skill of their commanding officers. Neither would play any further part in the War, though arguably their three-month campaign saved the Confederation. Upon the cessation of hostilities, all six Battlecruisers immediately entered dry dock for urgently-needed repairs and upgrades; each had been launched too hastily, and the reports of their crews became the basis for a year-long maintenance cycle, itself rushed further with every report of increased tension along the frontier. Three – Masada, Thunderchild and Shiroyama – were assigned to the Martian Space Service and the others were operated by the Callisto Orbital Patrol: early hopes of strong co-operation between the planetary defences failed to materialise. Gradually, it became apparent that the six starships were beyond the needs of Mars and Callisto. Each power would deploy one to ‘show the flag’ in systems close to the Sol System, occasionally participating in peacekeeping and defence of commerce, but primarily to assure the United Nations Space Fleet that the Triplanetary Confederation was maintaining its military might, and could continue to present itself as a significant opponent in some future conflict. Talk of the creation of a unified Triplanetary Fleet rumbled for years. By the time those talks came to fruition, the Battlecruisers which had been the mighty heart of the Confederation’s fleet during the War were in danger of becoming an expensive embarrassment. Alamo had not left the Sol System for five years and both maintenance and manpower were becoming compromised. The decision to turn the ships over to the newly-formed Triplanetary Fleet, while causing some heartache in those who had served on them, was easily taken. Thermopylae and her sisters were perfect for the new fleet, each being capable of the long-range missions planned. Crewing them was initially a problem, but many of those who had served on them in their glory days volunteered to transfer into the combined fleet. This both eased the manpower situation and provided a much-needed cadre of veteran officers. Maintenance would be a greater problem: Camaron and Masada had been all-but-mothballed in recent years, and would take time to bring back to full operational capacity. Time, however, was pressing. The political will that had brought the combined fleet into being was ebbing fast, and the four ships that were operational to at least some degree were rushed into service. Thermopylae was dispatched on a tour of local space, eight systems in five months with a diplomatic team... and a crack intelligence unit, assigned on a host of operations. As of 2167, she is coming to the end of this assignment, and is preparing for a new, long-range mission upon her return. Shiroyama ventured out to the frontier, on a short-range exploratory mission launching from Carpenter Station, following up on rumours dating back to the Interplanetary War of alien ruins scattered on uncharted worlds. Many suspect that, in fact, the mission had rather more to do with the increased tensions with the hitherto-neutral Lunar Republic.  Thunderchild was the last one to launch, following up on rumours of Separatist activity on some of the extrasolar settlements of the Triplanetary Confederation. She aimed to identify the terrorists trying to destroy the new Fleet before it could truly make its start. As for the Battlecruiser Alamo, her saga began a legend. An emergency mission to rescue a stranded scientific expedition at Lalande 21185 resulted not only in first contact with the ‘lost colony’ of Ragnarok, but also foiled a plan by the Lunar Republic to take advantage of a local civil war to conquer the world, providing the Republic with a launching point for future expeditions (As detailed in Price of Admiralty). Immediately thereafter, Alamo was dispatched to Uranus, on a long voyage chasing reports of a lost civilisation on one of the planet’s moons. While the exact details of her mission remain classified (chronicled in Fermi’s War), it is known that Alamo did discover some sort of alien life, and that her actions have led to renewed hope of friendly relations between the Confederation and the Lunar Republic. As 2167 draws to an end, rumours persist that Alamo, Camaron and Masada are shortly to be sent on a new expedition, one intended to range further than any vessels have ventured since the War...

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The Interplanetary War The Interplanetary War was inevitable. Following the Ecocaust, Earth was forced to reach out for whatever resources it could find, anything to maintain technological civilisation. Humanity retreated, regrouped, and advanced once again, restoring and repairing where it could, with the ultimate goal of making a better world than the one that had been destroyed. Heavy industry was moved into space and mining operations in the Belt and on Titan provided resources no longer available on Earth, that were nonetheless still vitally needed for the survival of billions of people. The second half of the 21st Century was dominated by the reconstruction programs, almost to the exclusion of all else: everything was subordinated to that goal. As it became apparent that the war for survival would be won and the hendecaspace drive was discovered, humanity relaxed a little, dedicating itself to the exploration of space. The grip of the United Nations on the colonies, however, remained tight – Earth’s government maintained the attitude that it had heavily invested in those worlds, and that it deserved to see a good return on that investment. The colonists thought differently. They had dedicated themselves to the survival of their people during Earth’s struggle for its continued existence. In return, they expected a measure of gratitude for continuing to supply the centre of power, along with increased investment in their future. Instead, the tax burden grew greater than ever as resources were diverted to the newly-discovered extrasolar worlds, Thalassa and Arcadia. The colonial economy stagnated through lack of investment, with a series of steadily-worsening accidents highlighting the likely future as maintenance budgets fell through lack of interest. Ultimately, it would be the Terraforming Project that lit the spark of rebellion. Mars was to be transformed into a Second Earth, and the fact that it would make the lives of the millions of colonists a living hell for a century was barely a consideration to the Security Council. The ‘Keep Mars Red’ movement began as a protest group, but a brutal security crackdown forced them underground, into the shadows... and eventually transformed them into a terrorist organisation. Originally, they only targeted the Terraforming Project itself, sabotaging the guidance systems on Comet Nine to send it harmlessly into space, assassinating the head of the Geoscaping Team, and blackmailing key politicians with stolen secrets in a bid to delay the project. Gradually, however, the independence movement took hold of the organisation. Over the next four years, however, securing freedom for the colonies became the goal. Networks on Titan, the Belt, Venus and Callisto were contacted, and plans were raised for non-violent protests that would bring Earth’s economy to its knees. Unfortunately, the United Nations marshals learned of the plot first and, in a brutal crackdown, executed a hundred rebel ringleaders and their families, imprisoning thousands more in labour camps. The martyrs only fanned the flames of revolt, and soon an overwhelming majority of the colonial populations demanded freedom, with many key figures in the United Nations Space Force supporting the insurrection. The first battle was fought at Vesta, mainly in the realm of cyberspace. One of only two deep space task forces the Triplanetary Confederation could muster had been mobilised there and the colony was stolen from under the nose of the security teams with the assistance of a crack group of rebel hackers – with an average age of fifteen. Mars declared independence on January 4th, 2149. Callisto, Titan, Venus and the Belt followed within a week. A savage burst of fighting erupted on every colony world as the settlers fought for their freedom. The occupation forces’ response was half-hearted at best – many figures in the local garrison had been secretly working with the rebellion for months, and others chose to flee rather than face certain death. In two weeks, the ground fighting was over, though UN-loyal guerilla forces would continue to operate in the Martian cities for months. When the fighting began, both sides faced the same problem: no knowledge of space warfare. The United Nations Space Force had been created to handle criminal insurgents and internal security, and had never fought a battle in space. Resources had been limited, and the fleets consisted of a collection of long-range Escorts and prototype warships. While Earth’s full resources would be committed to the fight, it would be months or years before the UN could bring serious firepower to bear on the insurrectionists. The Security Council was unwilling to wait that long. Forming all UN ships into a single task force, the Council planned an attack to invade Mars, hoping to seize orbital space and be in a position to bombard the planet and bring the population to heel through the threat of annihilation. Many senior figures in the military protested this decision, suggesting that it was not the time for such a move but the political realities of the situation required immediate action. The UN’s Grand Fleet launched on a three-week trajectory – direct from Earth to Mars in normal space – hoping to inspire fear in the hearts of those it was sent to defeat, over the protests of the commander, Admiral Morrison. The Martians had little time to organise a defence, but had no intention of yielding without a fight. Shuttles were hastily converted into Fighters with improvised missiles, communication satellites converted to tech-jammers, and a quarter-million-strong planetary militia drilled, determined to make use of whatever weapons the Martians could find to defeat an invading force. The Grand Fleet had expected only limited opposition. It was clear from the outset that the UN officials had been wrong about that: a thousand missiles raced out towards the UN ships as they approached. This single time-on-target strike destroyed half a dozen ships while they were slowing into orbit. Fighters darted between the hulking capital ships, many giving their lives on kamikaze runs to destroy the enemy forces. The battle waged through orbital space for five hours, until Admiral Morrison finally surrendered. One condition of his surrender, not revealed until after the war, was sanctuary for his senior staff and himself – he knew they would certainly be executed for their defeat if they returned. The rebels had won the first battle, and many expected the United Nations to accept their independence. Unfortunately, the insurrection had begun to spread to Earth itself, and the Security Council decided that it could not afford to show any sign

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Section 4: Historical Events of weakness. The war would continue and, as both sides struggled to quickly assemble space fleets, UN officials used the lessons from the Battle of Mars to prepare for the conflict to come. For the rebels, that meant Fighters – thousands of them, with hastily-trained pilots – on massive Carriers, which were converted from the bulk tankers of the Titanian run. Aside from a few minor engagements, the next eighteen months were quiet. Secret negotiations were encouraged by the Security Council to buy time to prepare for an attack. The target this time was the Jupiter Trojans, already a key resource supply area for the nascent Triplanetary Confederation. Both sides sought a pitched battle, but this time, it was to be waged at a time and place of the United Nations’ choosing. The engagement was a disaster for the Confederation forces. A bare handful of ships limped home to Callisto, defeated by new anti-Fighter weaponry and tactics. While the Jupiter Trojans remained in the Confederation’s control, that had never been the true goal of the engagement; the United Nations was hoping to break the rebels. So began the second phase of the war, as increasingly desperate rebel admirals sought to muster fleets to go toe-totoe with the enemy, while their ship captains adopted a more realistic approach of commerce raiding. Earth was totally dependent on space-based resources and, while it could live without the rebel worlds of the Sol System, it needed its interstellar economy now more than ever. Despite protests from the Admiralty, the new Battlecruisers were sent out into deep space to attack Freighters and outposts. They succeeded in bringing commerce in four systems to a near-total halt, and sending Earth’s economy into a severe depression, just as its industrial might was beginning to make itself felt. As great a war raged between the Triplanetary Confederation admirals and commodores, the former pressing for a huge battle to win the war in a single moment, the latter advocating a steadier, lower-risk strategy, albeit one with less evident glory. The Third Battle of Vesta decided the issue, with four Carriers destroyed in a single engagement, the Fighter squadrons of the Confederation all-but-obliterated in a matter of minutes. The Purge of the Admirals followed the next morning: nineteen flag officers were dismissed by direct presidential order. For the remainder of the war, the Confederation would limit itself to a strategy that was already paying off – commerce raiding. By this point, Mars, Callisto and Titan had established strong orbital defence networks, making them effectively immune to attack, and Venus had already fallen to the enemy. The Belt remained the battleground, host to Fighter squadrons duelling over control of single rocks, but there were no further engagements of any magnitude. In interstellar space, single ships and squadrons ranged far and wide, seeking out United Nations outposts and Transports, forcing the defending fleet to spread out to cover ever more territory. Pitched battles were fought in systems that had never even been properly charted, let alone settled, as the strategic map changed by the week. Ship commanders were given increasing levels of autonomy to do whatever they believed necessary to bring the war to a successful conclusion. Many ships on both sides never made it home, lost in space forever, no rescue or relief possible. A handful would limp home months or years later, crews patching their ships with whatever they could find to make one final jump back to explored space. Both Earth and Confederation economies teetered on the verge of collapse, the mutual blockades causing ever-greater dislocation but, ultimately, the United Nations blinked first. The peace faction within the organisation finally won the day. Peace talks began in neutral territory – out in deep space – with each side bringing a single capital ship to host its delegation. A ceasefire was declared, though fighting still continued, albeit at a smaller scale: both sides wanted to show that they were still ready to continue the fight if negotiations failed. The battles at the bargaining table waged all across space but, ultimately, both sides knew that they were equally on the verge of losing the war. The Lunar Republic’s neutrality had reaped dividends, leaving it as the only untouched major power. The Confederation would not reclaim Venus – that was now firmly United Nations territory – but the Belt would be granted its freedom. In essence, both sides agreed to accept the current situation as permanent. Beyond, Proxima Centauri was declared neutral space – open to exploitation by both powers – and a handful of systems were handed over to Triplanetary control. These were mostly in areas where the United Nations had little interest, as its priority remained the colonies of Thalassa and Arcadia, and the vast bulk of its efforts would be focused on that region. Despite protests on both sides, along with hawks calling for the colonies to be crushed or for Earth itself to be conquered, the Treaty of Vesta, named for the place where the war had started, was signed by the President of the Confederation and the Secretary-General of the United Nations on December 9th, 2157, almost eight years after the official opening of hostilities. More than a hundred thousand had died during the Interplanetary War in open battle, and ten times that number had lost their lives through war-related activities. The trading networks of both powers had effectively been destroyed, and the first priority for both the Triplanetary Confederation and the United Nations was to rebuild their space-based infrastructure. This was a big task – they had to repair the trillion-Credit damage that had been inflicted, whilst still maintaining sufficient military infrastructure to pose a credible deterrent to renewed aggression. On both sides, many assumed that this was merely the prelude to another, final war. For ten years, however, the peace has held, with only a few minor incidents. Many on both sides now agree that, sooner or later, colonial independence was inevitable. Even so, the after-effects of the fighting continue to this day. The Triplanetary economy is stronger than ever, with new industries arising to take the place of those destroyed in the War. Their output now sells to the highest bidder, rather than the below-cost demands of a rapacious Earth. The United Nations, on the other hand, sees its star beginning to wane, and plans to reverse this trend... preparing to wage a new war should the opportunity arise.

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Section 5: Starships and their Functions The Bridge is the nerve centre of any starship, the focus of all command-and-control systems. Under normal circumstances, it would be found buried deep within the bowels of a ship, protected by countless layers of armour. However, on the Thermopylae-class Battlecruisers it can instead be found at the fore of the ship, next to the outer hull, a legacy of the original design intention. As these ships were originally meant to be civilian, long-range exploratory vessels, protecting key systems was far less of a priority than on a normal warship. This has the other unfortunate side-effect that, even compared to smaller combat vessels, a Thermopylae-class ship has a cramped bridge. There have been numerous proposals to reconfigure the design, to move the command functions to a secondary facility, perhaps one of the smaller storage bays. The work required to complete such a project, however, has a cost that the Triplanetary Fleet is unwilling to meet. At the heart of the bridge, naturally, is the command chair, with a small console in front of it that is primarily used to monitor ship operations and functions. Using this equipment, the occupant can call up details of any system on the ship, view the feed from any sensor input or produce a tactical display. In addition, they can override either Helm or Tactical, assuming limited control of those functions in an emergency. While it is impossible to design a station that could take over every other station, the command console is as close as it is practical to come. In front of the chair is a small holoprojector, rigged from floor and ceiling, designed to produce a three-dimensional view of local space to provide the commander with the latest tactical information, taking feeds from all one-hundred-ninety sensor inputs as well as updates from the strategic analysis systems. With the touch of a button, the commander can focus on any part of the battlespace they wish, or even expand the view far enough to see an entire star system. In battle, this position will typically be occupied by the Captain, as their prime responsibility is to command the ship when facing an enemy combatant. As a general rule, the Captain will also assume direct command of the bridge during moments they deem critical, such as emergence from hendecaspace, or while landing teams are exploring a planetary surface. At other times, however, this position will be held by the Officer of the Watch, typically one of three lieutenants assigned to command a duty shift. On occasion, a department head may have to ‘wear two hats’, assuming command of a duty shift as well as their normal duties. The Executive Officer, second-in-command of the ship, will only take command in the event of the Captain’s incapacitation. This individual’s place when the ship is threatened is in Auxiliary Control, on the far side of the ship, ready to assume command should the bridge be rendered inoperable. They will be in constant contact with the Captain, naturally, over the internal communications system. Not every position on the bridge is occupied at all times. Even the crew of a Battlecruiser is insufficient to man every station on a twenty-four-hour basis, and it is generally considered unnecessary to do so. A typical duty shift consists of two officers and three enlisted crewmen – the Officer of the Watch, the Guidance Control Officer, a Sensor Technician, a Communications Technician and a Flight Engineer. There will usually be three shifts, with a fourth ‘reserve’ shift on standby in the event of crew incapacitation. All dedicated bridge personnel are under the supervision of the Operations Officer, who is usually (but not always) the Second Officer of the ship. The Captain makes the ultimate decision on whom to name as their third-in-command – the alternatives are commonly either the Tactical Officer or the Systems Officer. Seniority is a strong influence on this decision but not the only one: the Captain is also permitted to exercise their own judgement regarding the capabilities of candidate officers for the position. Rarely, a dedicated Second Officer will be appointed, but this is usually only done when the Captain or Executive Officer is scheduled for an imminent transfer, to permit their replacement time to acclimatise to the ship. Aside from any command duties they might have if they are also Second Officer, the Operations Officer controls duty shifts, is responsible for training and discipline of the crew and the maintenance of all command systems – both on the bridge and among the auxiliary control crews. Typically, there is a dedicated position at the rear of the bridge for this officer, next to the elevator access. This station allows them to monitor all command functions and assume control of any other station should a console fail: it essentially serves as a backup to all other stations. On the other side of the exit is the Flight Engineer, a senior enlisted crewman whose job is twofold. Their primary function is to monitor ship damage status, to provide the Captain with constant updates about the state of the vessel and the progress of any ongoing repair work. In addition, they are the co-ordinator of the twenty-five damage control teams that operate on the ship, directing them where they are most urgently needed. A typical damage control team consists of three individuals – all engineers, one with paramedical training. When not in battle, these teams are responsible for the routine maintenance. On the left-hand side of the bridge are two other consoles: the ‘External Operations’ functions. The first is manned by a technician responsible for relaying all sensor inputs to the Captain, as well as for analysis of the data as it comes in. This is a highly specialised role, typically assigned to a senior enlisted crewman, and requires a quick mind and quicker fingers. From this position, every external and internal feed can be monitored, as well as merging the inputs to provide a more complete picture of the local environment.  This station also controls the ship’s probes, launching them at the order of the Watch Officer or Captain, guiding them to their targets and monitoring the data stream as it comes in. Given the original design concept, it should come as no surprise that a Thermopylae-class Battlecruiser has a wide array of probes at its disposal. There are two launch tubes dedicated to probe operation, and a range of unmanned vehicles for any conceivable purpose, from long-term monitoring of orbital space to diving into the heart of a star, to digging into the ice sheet of a frozen moon. The second console is occupied by the Communications Technician. Despite being nominally part of External Operations, this station is equally responsible for the internal communications network. This task is challenging enough in normal operations given the constant inter-departmental chatter. If any damage is suffered to primary systems, the Communications Technician must bypass functions around affected areas, choosing what channels have the greatest priority according to a pre-arranged list, which could change in a second at the Captain’s order.

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part 1: the universe Contacting other ships, outposts and planets is the more glamorous aspect of this technician’s task, and there are two primary communications conduits at their disposal – radio and laser, each with different advantages and disadvantages. Laser communication is completely safe from interception, but must be locked onto its target. Under normal circumstances, this is simple enough, as ships travel on easily-predictable courses. However, in battle, when the situation is far more fluid, this becomes significantly more complicated, and the technician running the systems is often forced to resort to radio. Radio has a wide range of encryption systems available, rendering interception and translation complicated: the intelligence networks of all major governments spend much of their time attempting to hack into the systems of the others, trying to steal the codes that protect their systems. The Communications Technician is also responsible for decryption, analysis and decoding of intercepted enemy transmissions. Therefore, they have similar security access to that of the Captain. At the front of the bridge, sitting just ahead of the commander, is what is formally known as the Guidance Control Officer, more commonly just referred to as the helmsman. This is a junior officer, often a midshipman, as it is deemed that the helm is an excellent position to rapidly learn the basics of ship operations, requiring quick fingers and nimble judgement, while at the same time not having to originate commands. The Captain orders the helmsman to get the ship to a specific point in space, and they do it, as rapidly as possible. The Thermopylae-class has several different propulsion methods. For pinpoint manoeuvring, there are fifty thrusters scattered around key positions on the ship – forty primary and ten backup – all under the direct control of the helmsman. These would be familiar to a twentieth-century astronaut, having the same basic design that has been used on spaceships for centuries – old-fashioned reaction jets. The primary engine is mounted at the rear of the ship, a massively scaled-up ion thruster, based on the VASIMIR principle, operated with gigawatts of power from the ship’s fusion reactor. Balancing the power requirements is a difficult job, and it can be a surprisingly complicated task just to keep the ship on-heading, meaning constant supervision is required.  Naturally, the hendecaspace drive is also controlled from the helm, though the actual operation is relegated to a team of trained engineers working deep within the ship. Astrogation is the responsibility of the helmsman on most ships, plotting the path through other-dimensional space requiring all of their focus and attention. On some older ships, there is a dedicated Astrogator, though this practice is fading over time as ship systems and automatic functions improve. Although it is the helmsman who activates the drive, in reality, their control only enables activation: the final transit into hendecaspace requires nanosecond precision that is beyond the ability of any human. The two stations on the other side of the bridge normally go unmanned, except when the Captain decides the situation is critical enough to warrant their occupation. These are Tactical and Electronic Warfare, the two most vital consoles should the ship find itself going into battle. Both require experienced personnel to run them, and individuals with that training are in short supply in the nascent Triplanetary Fleet. At present, it is far too common for the Tactical Officer and the Electronics Warfare Technician to have no backup. The Tactical Officer controls all offensive systems. On some older ships, the Tactical Officer also handles defensive systems, but this is generally considered too much for one officer to realistically manage on a true warship. For a Thermopylae-class Battlecruiser, this falls into two categories – laser and missiles. Each ship is built as a long cylinder, wrapped around a quarter-mile laser cannon capable of pumping hundreds of megawatts of power into an enemy ship. It disperses the heat through two-mile-long radiator ‘wings’ sweeping across space on either side of the vessel, which glow white after every discharge. The effective range of the laser is twenty thousand miles, though the destructive force grows greater the closer the ship gets. The only defence is not to be in the path of the beam as it passes through space, and this requires the helmsman and Tactical Officer to both carefully monitor the battle, giving themselves the best possible chance to take their shot whilst working to deny the same chance to the enemy. Naturally, this is extremely difficult, and requires weeks or months of simulator practice before true proficiency is attained. As might be expected, the laser cannon requires the full potential of the ship’s reactor, draining power from other systems for the thirty seconds required to recharge. In addition, it is the most fragile system on the ship – one impact on the gossamer-thin radiators will wreck them. The mechanism that forms the cannon itself is also extremely delicate and, due to its size, is an easy target for an enemy warship – in a battle between two laser-armed ships, the victor is usually the first to destroy the enemy’s primary armament. For this reason, the secondary armament is more widely used than the primary; many commanders hold back with their lasers until absolutely necessary, not wanting to risk them unless there is no choice.  On a Thermopylae-class Battlecruiser, this means missiles. There are six launch tubes, each connected to the combat fabrication system. In normal operation, no missiles are carried: instead, they are assembled in the tubes, through a combination of 3D printing and robot manufacture. When the system is working normally, building a missile takes thirty seconds. The fabricator can construct an entire salvo at a time under the supervision of the Tactical Officer. There are several different types of missiles to choose from. The “Type-Five” is the standard loadout: a one-kiloton warhead mounted on a fast chassis, capable of high acceleration and rapid manoeuvring. These are programmed using visual cues to home in on a target ship, usually a specific system on said ship, in order to maximise their destructive potential. Other types can be fired at longer ranges, positioned in orbital space as mines, or even produced with stubby wings that allow them to operate in at least the upper levels of a planetary atmosphere. Switching from one type to another is a time-consuming process, however, requiring minutes rather than seconds, and a primary task of the Tactical Officer is to determine, far enough ahead of the battle, which class of warhead to deploy to be truly effective. In space warfare, battles are a complicated dance; the two or more ships are attempting to make contact with each other for long enough to get their shots in. A larger ship will try to maximise its time within weapons range, while a smaller ship will try to evade, swinging close enough to launch a single shot before withdrawing as rapidly as possible in order to protect itself from superior force. Few battles take place in open space – more commonly, they will take place in orbit, giving the helmsman and Tactical Officer options to make use of cover, sometimes dipping almost into atmosphere in order to protect

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Section 5: Starships and their Functions themselves, or to gain the maximum benefit of a gravitational swing. Missile duels are one of the most integral aspects of this combat, and here the Tactical Officer and the Electronic Warfare Technician must work closely together. As well as simply guiding the missiles to their designated targets, the crewmen should be ready to alter them should the tactical situation change, in order to protect them from attack. This could take the form of interception by enemy missile salvos or electronic countermeasures: enemy hackers will attempt to crack into the incoming missiles and divert them from their course. In extreme cases, the best hackers can even suborn the enemy’s missiles, taking control and turning them back on their point of origin. For this reason, all missiles have ‘last resort’ selfdestruct systems. As well as protecting their own missiles, the two crewmen must protect the ship from incoming warheads, using the same tools – laser, missile and electronic warfare. There is therefore a constant compromise between offensive and defensive operations and two ships of similar potential can fight for hours or days, waiting for one to make the critical mistake that allows its opponent to strike the killer blow. Many battles result in stalemates for this reason, with neither side able to gain a sufficient advantage. The Electronic Warfare Technician sits next to the Tactical Officer. This individual also works to protect the ship and attack any opponents using the sophisticated intrusion software at their disposal. While the ship’s firewall must be maintained against attack as a top priority, hacking into enemy systems is also critical, even if it is just to throw the adversary offbalance to gain the advantage. Typically, the EWT will be the youngest person on the bridge: the Triplanetary Fleet has gone out of its way to recruit civilian hackers into the service. Operating this console is considered more art than science; imagination and inspiration are critical. There have been cases of whole ships being suborned by a clever hacker. Far more often, however, the intrusion will focus on more mundane tasks, such as intercepting damage control reports, signals from ships to Shuttles, or power distribution reports – these things can provide a quick-thinking officer warning of an imminent laser pulse or rapid manoeuvre. On the right side of the bridge is an Airlock, used for emergency escape in the event of attack, usually with a pair of escape pods installed. In the event of ship evacuation, the bridge crew will be among the last to leave, so it is deemed critical to give them their own, dedicated escape path.  On the other side is the cramped Captain’s Office, the place where the Captain will spend most of their time. It is equipped to handle the complicated administration that is required to keep the vessel running, as well as monitor the ship’s status at a moment’s notice. A small weapons locker is hidden here, under the floor, accessible only by the Captain through handprint identification: a last-resort in the event of an all-but-unimaginable mutiny. It is common for a bulk to be installed out of the way, and for this to double as a second cabin for the commander, in the event of emergency. Auxiliary Control is a smaller version of the bridge, large enough for only three people – the commander, who doubles as helmsman, the External Operations Technician, managing both sensors and communications, and an additional Tactical Station, which controls the offensive/defensive functions as well as managing systems status. This is little more than an emergency backup: in a real fight, should the ship be damaged, the priority of the surviving officers would be rapid flight, leaving the battlespace as quickly as possible to repair command systems before returning to fight another day. While one might imagine a starship to be a solid vessel – perhaps something like a submarine from Earth – a better analogy would be of an old airship. The majority of the mass of the ship consists of huge tanks of water, oxygen and the helium-3 which powers the reactor: these occupy almost three-quarters of the vessel. Another significant fraction is the complicated machinery of the hendecaspace drive, the device that rips a hole in the fabric of space-time to permit faster-than-light travel, as well as, on a Battlecruiser, the huge capacitors that power the laser cannon at the heart of the ship. The inhabitable portions of a Thermopylae-class Battlecruiser comprise less than five percent of the vessel and a significant amount of that is a complicated series of maintenance tunnels and accessways, designed to allow technicians to access any portion of the ship as needed. The whole outer structure rotates to provide artificial gravity; the bulk of the habitable modules are positioned close to the outer hull to take maximum advantage of the rotation. In fact, this exposes them to greater danger in battle, an unexpected design flaw. The ‘decks’ are a series of modules, stacked in where practical. The distribution is even more ad-hoc than in a normal starship, due to the unusual circumstances behind the design of these vessels – their last-minute conversion from civilian to military use is evident in the internal layout. Even the combat systems are just a necessary afterthought in a decadeold design. That such modifications were possible at all was due to the work of a handful of UN engineers who joined the Triplanetary Confederation at the outset of the War, disgusted with the behaviour of their own government. This makes Elevator Control one of the most important areas of the ship, after the bridge. It is responsible for maintaining the accessways between the decks – the travel shafts that allow a crewman to move the entire length of the vessel in a matter of moments, rather than the hours that such a transit would require on foot. A complicated collection of priority overrides are employed to ensure that the senior staff can travel at will. An elevator ‘car’ even follows the Captain around the ship, minimising any potential delay. This is an assignment commonly given to a new midshipman, as there is no faster way to learn how to get around the ship than through a tour manning this vital station. When boarding a ship for the first time, it is likely that the Hangar Deck will be the first port of call, though docking ports are liberally scattered around the outer hull for convenience. This is the largest single module in the ship, adjacent to the outer hull, almost two hundred feet across and fifty feet high. The heart of the deck is the trio of elevator airlocks, level with the floor, with magnetic escalators that drag the ship’s small craft into position before lowering them through the double doors, the momentum of the ship’s rotation tossing them clear of the hull as the outer door opens. The small ship complement of a Battlecruiser will be entirely dependent on both the mission and availability. By default, six Fighters and four Shuttles can be carried. Two of the Shuttles will be designed for transit to and from a planetary surface

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Section 5: Starships and their Functions and the others intended for operation in space only, primarily used for transfer between ships or orbital facilities and as search-and-rescue vehicles for pilots. The hangar deck, despite its size, always feels confined and ships are often suspended from the ceiling in order to maximise space and allow the deck gangs to work. The Deck Officer is focused on the maintenance of the small ships and on organising the flight crews of the Shuttles, in a similar manner to the Operations Officer. In addition, they are also responsible for traffic control, supervising all ships operating close to the ship to ensure no accidents can take place, monitoring the progress from the status indicators in their office. As a result, the Deck Officer is usually one of the busiest people on the ship, especially as they are also the deputy of the Systems Officer (the ship’s lead engineer). Adjacent to the hangar deck is the Ready Room, home of any Fighter pilots who are based on the ship, with a tiny office for the Flight Commander. If a full complement of Fighters is on board, this will be the home of nine pilots, including their commander, operating autonomously and reporting directly to the Captain, out of the normal chain of command. In an emergency, they can reach their Fighters and launch in two minutes even with no prior warning. If battle is expected, at least three of them will be on immediate notice to scramble able to launch at a moment’s notice. While the primary function of the ready room is to provide tactical information to the assigned pilots and plan missions, recreation is also an important feature. Sometimes, crews will be waiting for hours, preparing to fight battles that will be just minutes long. A wide variety of games and entertainment systems are therefore available, in addition to a pair of flight simulators designed to allow two pilots to practice fighting each other in simulated space. While gambling is technically prohibited, it is a rare ship that doesn’t have an ongoing tournament between the pilots, with wagering on the winner. When many think of Engineering, they imagine a vast space filled with mechanical components. In fact, the room is a two-level status monitoring station, with a vast projection of the ship arrayed on the wall. It is used by the Systems Officer and their senior staff to keep track of every ship function, no matter how insignificant, and to plan the ongoing maintenance routine, or monitor damage control in the event of a fight. A Senior Chief is on duty here at all hours of the day and the Systems Officer spends most of their time here – using the internal sensors and communicators, they can work virtually with any technician on the ship, ‘looking over their shoulder’ to provide guidance and instruction at will. Even so, most engineers still prefer getting their hands dirty themselves, rather than delegating everything to their subordinates. On the same deck are several dedicated storage units, filled with the spare parts and components needed to keep the Battlecruiser operational. This area also contains the Main Fabricator, a device capable of breaking down raw materials to fill up the spare parts stores. Fabricator technology has evolved enormously since the early days of 3-D printing, allowing a starship to operate remotely for months using only the materials on board... or longer, if it is able to top up its material storage from asteroids or friendly facilities. Naturally, this is the best-protected area of the ship, as almost anything can be manufactured here. There have been instances of saboteurs obtaining weapons or explosives from this room, so there is a permanent guard shift on duty. Usually under the remit of the Engineering department is the Security Office, which has evolved away from its previous role of ensuring internal security. All ships carry Espatiers as a matter of course, and they are more than capable of standing guard duty at key locations. Indeed, on occasions where both Espatiers and a dedicated internal security force have been deployed, the usual result has been conflict between the two rival groups. Instead, the primary focus is on electronic security, especially with regards to the computer systems, which are permanently monitored by a team of trained combat hackers. These hackers roam the network, looking for problems and flaws, fixing them where they can. Though Fleet Logistics would prefer that each ship ran with identical networks, most hackers are inclined to improve and experiment where they can. Fleet Intelligence encourages this as the best possible defence against infiltration and attack, even if it can lead to difficulties for transferring personnel. The Security Officer’s job has evolved more rapidly than their department. Now, this officer serves as primary liaison between ship and surface, as well as between departments: with an increasing exoplanet role for the Triplanetary Fleet, it has become commonplace for commanders to assign Security Officers as dedicated ‘landing party commanders’. As such, a role that was once considered career suicide has become highly sought-after. More than a few ‘fast-track’ officers have found themselves in this position, which offers a quick path to promotion. Given the original intended function of the Thermopylae-class, it should come as no surprise that science was prioritised, and extensive laboratory space was provided as part of the specifications. Most of these labs were completed before the ships launched – with some people hoping that they might return to a mission of exploration after the War, while others realised the surveying equipment was of use in the long-range combat expeditions the ships were to engage in. Much of the dedicated lab space was converted to other functions. Some of the equipment remained aboard, mothballed, and the crews found uses for most of it, cannibalising it over the long years of the Interplanetary War.  With a change in focus, though, a new priority on scientific research has been established, and many ships now carry a Science Officer and a research team, focusing on contacting lost colonies and settlements – this had led to the unexpected result that the social sciences are of equal priority to the physical. The Science Officer’s role is to co-ordinate all the work of the multiple science teams, and to liaise with the Captain on necessary modifications to mission plans. In practice, being part of the research team can often be a frustrating assignment: the Battlecruisers are warships first, so the individual will often find themselves assigned to other tasks deemed more important by the senior staff, sometimes including work that should be done by other officers. Many Captains fail to include the Science Officer in key briefings, using the excuse that, in many cases, they are drafted civilians rather than true service personnel. Some incidents in recent months have provided limited justification for this belief, though the Admiralty is now stressing science as a way of garnering additional Senate support for shipbuilding programs.

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part 1: the universe Astrogation is one of the most-used parts of the original scientific installation. A spherical room that is utilised in both mission planning and course plotting, it is able to provide detailed charts of the entirety of explored space, as well as anything additional surveyed by the ship. Though the room’s functions can be duplicated elsewhere, most commanders make use of this facility for briefings, its ability to show flight plans and surface excursions with the wave of an arm being highly valued. When a ship possesses a dedicated Astrogator, this is where they are assigned, though the role is now being displaced by that of the Science Officer in standard service. The bulk of the laboratory space, however, has been given over to the Marine contingent – in Triplanetary service, the Espatiers. Each Battlecruiser has its own assigned platoon: thirty-two strong, including a junior enlisted commanding officer. The original intention was that they would operate as a self-contained unit, and their Barracks is designed accordingly: it is a large space which includes accommodation, exercise equipment, weapons stowage and workshops for maintenance.  In practice, few troopers are idle for any length of time during a cruise. Any with technical skills will usually be pressed into service as backup maintenance personnel, medics will spend much of their time in sickbay, to help bolster the perpetually short-handed medical complement and there are many tasks on board that require nothing more than a strong back. In addition, at least one squad will be assigned to guard key areas of the ship, such as the bridge, fabricators and engineering, as a supplement to the internal security systems. During much of the time in flight, the platoon commander will be waging a constant administrative battle with half a dozen department heads to secure sufficient time for training. The Espatier accommodations are makeshift at best. While assignments aboard a Battlecruiser are much sought-after, it isn’t a luxury ride and the first task of a newly-arrived platoon is usually to arrange facilities needed to keep their skills sharp. Unoccupied areas of the ship are modified to establish firing ranges, obstacle courses and additional space for exercise equipment. It is quite common to find fire teams racing around the ship in the middle of the night, when their squad leader abruptly decides that they need to try and shave a half-second off their personal best for a certain exercise. As a rule, Espatiers and Spacemen don’t mix – at least, that’s the story they tell in the bars. In practice, shipside is a far different story, the crews having to work together due to the cramped quarters available, though that rarely stops fighting of some description from breaking out within the first few weeks of a crew being assembled. One seasoned commander suggested that it provided an ‘unorthodox refresher in unarmed combat training’, and the general attitude is that as long as it doesn’t affect crew availability, a blind eye will be turned by command officers. After all, few want to spend any time in Sickbay, a facility positioned close to the core of the ship, in an area of considerably reduced gravity to ease the strain on wounded personnel. Every Battlecruiser carries a trained Medical Officer, usually a general practitioner with surgical experience brought into the Fleet on a short-service commission rather than rising through the ranks in the Fleet. They will have a small staff, primarily paramedics with a single surgical aide, but more than a third of the crew have sufficient training to provide assistance in an emergency. Initially, medical facilities amounted to little more than first aid, the assumption being that most ships would operate closer to larger installations, but combat experience forced a re-evaluation. Ultimately, Battlecruiser sickbays were expanded to their present size: a pair of wards each capable of holding six crewmen (one of which can be used for isolation in the event of an epidemic), an examination room, an operating room, and a dispensary holding the medical fabricator. In theory, these facilities are sufficient for any conceivable operation that could be required but in practice, the personnel are rarely needed for anything more complicated than bionic replacement surgery. A pair of dedicated engineers are assigned to work with the Medical Officer at all times, both to maintain the sickbay systems and to operate bionic equipment. It’s rare for a crew to not have a few people with artificial parts and, while they often have superior functionality to the organic originals, they require constant servicing and monitoring to prevent deterioration. In addition, the Medical Officer runs the ship’s gymnasium, both as part of the mandated physical fitness program and, on a more practical level, because the doctor for such a small community often has little to do. Space crews are hand-picked and, as a result, tend to be extremely healthy so, aside from sprains and fractures sustained during exercise or ship’s routine, actual crises are rare. In battle, of course, Sickbay becomes one of the most critical areas of the ship, and the limited space available is rarely sufficient for the potential casualties. Therefore, two storage bays are permanently designated as triage centres, with equipment always in place for immediate use if needed, though there is often a shortage of trained personnel. The Admiralty is planning to open a dedicated medical school in the near future, but until the first batch of graduates emerges, the current ad-hoc short-service arrangement will undoubtedly continue, as risky as it is. All but the smallest ships operate on a three-shift rotation, with half the crew on ‘Alpha’, nominally from 0800-1600, and a quarter each on ‘Bravo’ and ‘Charlie’, at 1600-0000 and 0000-0800 respectively. In reality, it is extremely rare for a technician to work for only eight hours: duty shifts of ten to twelve hours are more the norm. For bridge personnel, however, the eight hour shift is ruthlessly enforced except in critical combat situations. Often, in battles lasting longer than minutes, a commander will rotate watches on an hourly basis, bringing a reserve crew in to cover any resultant gaps in the schedule. When off duty, the crew spend the majority of their time in their quarters. Officers bunk alone, with the exception of the midshipmen, who share a larger cabin of their own in the “officer’s country”. A typical officer’s cabin has a single bed, a desk, a chair and an en-suite bathroom, as well as the usual monitors to access the ship’s entertainment systems. When off-duty, an officer is expected to work for at least two hours a day on training, familiarising themselves with any recent systems or administrative updates. In a crisis, this is – perhaps unsurprisingly – more honoured in the breach than the observance. Officer’s country also holds the Briefing Room, a long, narrow room that can comfortably hold anywhere up to a dozen people. It is used by the Captain or the Executive Officer to brief the department heads on the daily schedule. Normally, a meeting will be held here at 0730 on a daily basis, discussing anything of importance not relevant to the ongoing meetings.

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Section 5: Starships and their Functions Different ships hold these in different ways – some commanders simply read a pre-planned series of notes, ask a few questions, and leave, while others prefer a more free-form approach, using the opportunity to gather advice from their top advisors in a semi-informal setting, away from the crew. There are usually more single Cabins than there are officers. These are claimed by the senior enlisted at an early stage, often resulting in some rapid changes when new personnel report on board. Generally, the Quartermaster will make the assignments, and petty bribery to obtain a better room is quite commonplace – a practice tolerated as long as it is not taken to extremes. The crew generally have a way of working out accommodations on their own, in any case, though due care is taken to ensure that a crewman will be quartered relatively close to their emergency duty station. The bulk of enlisted personnel are bunked four to a room. ‘Hot bunking’ is only permitted in an emergency: usually, each crewman has their own cubicle with a bed and monitor, with a common area and bathroom shared between the four of them. There are always exceptions – some ships have double quarters, slotted in where otherwise a storage unit would be, and Thunderchild bunks six to a room for a reason known only to the ship’s designers. Senior department heads have two-room cabins, with the second outfitted as a small office for administrative and personnel matters – a smaller version of the Captain’s office on the bridge, usually large enough for only a couple of people to squeeze in. There are four such cabins on the ship, and their allocation is at the Captain’s discretion – though the norm is that they are for the Executive, Tactical, Operations and Systems Officers. Thunderchild, always an exception, has six such cabins. The Captain’s Cabin is as large as any two other cabins, and lacks an office; instead, there is a study, doubling as a third emergency control room, from which in a final emergency they could command the ship. All command and security functions are relayed to their quarters. It is also the only cabin that officially has its own armoury – despite regulations to the contrary, it is common for many officers to have their own sidearms, preferring to procure their own instead of relying on the second-rate model adopted by the Triplanetary Fleet. When off-duty, a wide range of recreational activities are available, including two gymnasiums, a handball court, observation dome, and dozens of meeting rooms. Most commanding officers strongly encourage their crew to develop in activities outside of their roles. These can take the form of training seminars from the scientific and medical teams – courses to learn everything from Cordon Bleu cookery to Sanskrit – or the ubiquitous poker and chess tournaments. The planetary fleets learned the hard way that crews taking part in long-duration spaceflight need to have opportunities to unwind, and a good commanding officer sees that they do, even to the extent of ordering a solitary crewman to adopt some sort of hobby. A few go to extremes – the legendary Colonel Murphy formed a mandatory musical theatre group during the Interplanetary War! Many of the crew will spend a significant portion of their time in the Mess, an area able to hold up to seventy people at once. Although food can be automatically delivered to any cabin, it is generally thought better to eat in company. Originally, the mess was often divided into two, one half for each of officers and enlisted but, over time, the two merged into one, not least because it meant that a single food fabricator could serve the entire crew, avoiding unnecessary duplication of the expensive equipment. Every Quartermaster in the Fleet dreads the day when a ship must turn over to its own food, stocking as much fresh produce as they can and taking any possible opportunity to replenish supplies but, aside from private stockpiles, most ships are forced onto internal rations within a fortnight. Some food can be ‘printed’ from storage units, but much is processed from the hydroponic and carniculture vats, which produce generic laboratory-grown meat and tanks of algae transformed – at least theoretically – into one of ten thousand possible recipes stored in the system. In practice, most veteran crews pack bottles of hot sauce and ketchup, in a bid to render their meals more palatable than they would otherwise be – an old joke is that you can tell who is on a second tour by the condiments on their plate. A starship is a ‘village in space’. The typical crew complement of a Thermopylae-class Battlecruiser is fourteen officers, a hundred and twenty enlisted crew and thirty-two Espatiers. Up to a dozen Fighter pilots and support personnel may also be added into the mix. Authority is vested in the Captain – even more in extrasolar space, due to the lack of faster-than-light communications. Sometimes, a starship will operate months away from base and, in those situations, a commander has extraordinary powers to represent the Confederation, up to and including issuing declarations of war and signing peace treaties. Every decision is subject to ratification by either their superior officers or the Senate and a commanding officer who makes such a decision without being certain of their ground will severely regret it. Occasionally, the Senate revives the Callistan concept of the ‘Political Officer’, a watchdog who is meant to ensure that the wishes and thoughts of the Senate are considered by the Captain. This never ends well: either the officer in question ‘goes native’ – focusing more on the well-being of the crew than their distant political masters – or they stress their relationship with senior figures back home to the point of antagonising the command staff, leading to them being shut out of the loop entirely. On a couple of occasions, it has been far worse, Political Officers actually attempting to assume command of the ship upon which they are serving. One of these is currently serving five years for mutiny at the Phobos Prison: the Admiralty does not take attempts to seize command of its ships lightly. Every ship is different, both in internal layout and command style and sometimes abnormalities pass from one commander to another. A new officer or crewman reporting on board for the first time will find their most critical task to be fitting themselves into an organised command structure, working out their place on the ship and adapting themselves to the individual nature of its environment. It is common for enlisted crewmen to spend their whole eight-year tour of duty assigned to the same ship, though officers tend to move around more often. Serving on a starship – especially a capital ship, such as a Battlecruiser – is the dream of every officer and enlisted individual in the Fleet. It is best described as months of boredom punctuated by seconds of sheer terror but rare is the person who won’t come back for a second try, after getting their own taste of life among the stars.

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Section 6: The Realities of Deep Space

Exploration “We’re settling into orbit, sir,” Midshipman Ramone said. Captain Rees leaned forward in his seat, the restraints holding him back, as he scrutinised the planet ahead for the first time. He glanced to the rear, where his Executive Officer, Jackie, was floating by the sensor display, watching the feed as it flowed in. At first sight, the world didn’t look like much. Just another barren rock tumbling through space, exactly like a hundred others his ship had surveyed on this latest run. He frowned as he looked at the status panel, an image of his ship slowly rotating on the battered holographic display. Pioneer was an old ship, one of the Mariner-class Scoutships that had pioneered interstellar space half a century ago. They’d been too old to see any serious action during the War and were dragged out of mothballs to serve in the new Triplanetary Fleet against the advice of those unfortunate enough to serve as their crews. They didn’t even have artificial gravity. “Anything, Jackie?” he asked. She spun around, eyes wide, and replied, “I think we’ve got something. There’s a point-heat source down there, definitely artificial. Nothing on the books that suggests this system has never been visited before.” “Does it match anything in the database?” he asked. “Could be an old Topaz Nine. That’s the closest the computer can get.” “Those haven’t been in service for a century!” Ramone protested. “Precisely, Midshipman,” Rees replied. “Which suggests something very interesting is going on down there, doesn’t it. I presume that you’re aware of Alamo’s discovery at Ragnarok?” “A lost colony?” the young near-officer said. Frowning, Jackie replied, “I can think of other explanations, skipper, but it does seem most likely. I’m picking up some trace oxygen close by, could be leakage from a dome, but there isn’t anything else evident. If there are people down there, they’re well hidden.” Grimacing, she added, “Though our sensors are half-shot. I wouldn’t be surprised if someone had found a way to conceal themselves.” “Spaceman Benson,” Rees ordered, “I want a signal sent on all frequencies, especially those used before the development of the hendecaspace drive. Keep it simple at this stage, and don’t mention our political affiliation. Send in all possible languages.” “Aye, sir,” the harried technician replied. “Working now.” “No sign of any sensor activity,” Jackie said, studying the readouts. “Nothing active, anyway. And no sign of any electromagnetic activity at all. If there is anyone down there, they’re playing it silent.” Throwing controls, she added, “Picking up something in high orbit, on the far side of the planet, coming around right now. Looks like some sort of ship.” “Analysis,” Rees said with a growing smile. “Though I think we both know what you’re going to report.” Frowning, she replied, “Nothing we have in our records, but it bears some similarity to an Orion-drive craft. I can make out the pusher plate at the rear. About a fifteen-thousand-ton ship, by the look of it. There’s some strange instrumentation that I can’t recognise...” “Their stardrive,” Rees said. “People, I think we just might have hit the jackpot. I want Engineer Sokolova to take a boarding party over to that ship on the double. I’ll lead the landing team to the surface myself.” “Sir,” Jackie said, “may I speak to you for a moment?” “Of course,” he replied. “Midshipman, you have the deck. Call me at once if we get even the slightest trace of a signal from the surface.” He kicked through the upper hatch, swimming into his closet-sized office and settling in a corner, Jackie following a moment later and closing the door behind her. “Get it out of your system.” “You shouldn’t be going down there, Captain. That’s my place, not yours.” “How’s your leg?” She blushed, and said, “Fine, sir...” “Odd,” he replied. “That’s not what Pyotr told me this morning. Something about light duty only, and restricted to zero-gravity until it heals? You broke it in nine places, Jackie. It’s almost a miracle you aren’t waiting for a prosthetic when we get home. The last thing you need is to wander around an alien world.” “Then...” “I will not strip the ship of its Tactical Officer while we’re in an unexplored system, I need to send our engineering team over to the colony ship, assuming that’s what it is, and unless you want to trust someone who hasn’t even earned his commission with first contact, that leaves me. We just don’t have the manpower to do everything we want to do by the book, so we throw it out of the airlock and do it anyway.” “What’s the rush?” she asked. “That ship’s been here for the best part of a century, Jeff. We don’t need to explore it today. We should wait, complete a proper analysis, and...” “We’re not the only ones running around out here. You can bet that either the Republic or the United Nations will be out this way before long – assuming they aren’t on the way already. You saw that last message. Obtaining any information on the stardrive they used during the first diaspora is a top priority. It’s the key to the galaxy if we can get it first. Or it will see us locked out of every system worth visiting for a hundred light years. If that isn’t worth a few risks….” “And the surface?” she asked. “That can wait.”

CORE RULEBOOK 60

part 1: the universe “Same problem,” Rees said. “I’d rather not leave a civilian population to the tender mercies of the Security Council, and neither would you. If we can make contact with them first, then I might be able to convince them to sign some sort of mutual defence pact. Nobody’s going to start the Second Interplanetary War over a few stranded settlers. If we have a legal basis for action, it’ll be as good as an orbital defence network.” With a sigh, Jackie replied, “I just hope you know what you’re doing, skipper.” “So do I,” he said. A low whistle chirped, and he said, “Rees here. Go ahead.” “We’re getting something from the surface, sir. Sounds like an old disaster beacon. I think it might have reacted to our scans.” “No other reply to our messages?” “No, sir.” Nodding, he replied, “Have our Shuttles prepared for immediate launch. Let’s get this done.”  — “Would you look at that,” Spaceman Jones said, as he carefully guided the Shuttle towards the drifting hulk. “Can you believe anyone would try and cross between stars in that thing?” “But they did, Taffy,” Lieutenant Sokolova, sitting in the co-pilot’s seat, replied. “Maybe a thousand people climbed on board that ship and dared to reach for another world, knowing that it was a one-way trip. I can’t imagine what they must have felt back then. It seems too incredible to grasp.” She looked down at her console, and added, “Trim a couple of degrees to starboard, then kill the rest of our forward velocity. Nice and gentle. I don’t want to damage anything.” “No, ma’am,” he replied, carefully playing the throttle to bring the Shuttle to a halt. “I’m turning on the searchlights. You think we might find an airlock?” “There’s no power, no heat, no air,” she said, “but you’re right. I’d rather we didn’t cut our way in if we don’t have to. This ship belongs in a museum, not a scrapyard.” Her hands danced across the controls, and she added, “There’s a hatch about fifty metres down, open wide. Some signs of explosive decompression. Interesting. It almost looks as though the ship might have been deliberately sabotaged.” Frowning, Jones replied, “In that case, ma’am, maybe we should hold off for a while, send in a few drones to check the place out?” “Orders from the Captain,” she said. “He wants us to move in on the double. Besides, I can’t see any sign of activity now, and I can’t see how a hundred-year-old trap could hurt anyone.” “That sounds suspiciously like famous last words, ma’am,” he replied. “Firing thrusters, one-one-hundredth power.” He tapped a control, then added, “Autopilot operational. We’re good to go when you give the order, ma’am.” Pulling a lever, he continued, “Remote control disabled, except from Pioneer. Just in case anyone decides to try something.” “You want to see someone about that paranoia, Spaceman,” Sokolova said, moving to the spacesuit locker. “I think they can give you pills for it.” “Wouldn’t trust them if they did,” he replied with a slight smile, tugging out a helmet. He locked it in place, booting up the heads-up display, then walked over to the airlock, hurrying to stand next to the eager engineer as she opened the inner door. He tugged a camera from the cabinet, setting it to remotely transmit to Pioneer, then stepped inside, the lock quickly cycling to send them into open space. Without asking, he snapped a safety line on Sokolova, and the two of them jetted across to the drifting hulk beyond. If possible, it looked even more impressive now than it had before, an almost endless expanse of metal that dominated the sky. As he drifted closer, the damage to the ship became still more obvious, the airlock that was permitting them access ruptured by some long-ago explosion, large enough to leave scoring on the outer hull. The shards of metal were turned inwards, and he glanced at Sokolova, his frown spreading. “That wasn’t an accident. Someone did that from outside. With enough force to guarantee rupturing the hull.” Shaking his head, he continued, “We’d better warn the ship.” “Way ahead of you,” Sokolova said, her earlier confidence dashed. “Pioneer, this is Team Two. We’ve found evidence of hostile activity out here. Looks like someone decided to take a shot at this ship. We’ll proceed with caution, but you’d better warn the Captain and his team to be careful.” “Will do, Lieutenant,” Jackie’s voice replied. “No sign of problems so far, though. I’m bringing the ship to alert status. And Lieutenant, if you think it’s dangerous, bug out and head home. There’s nothing over there worth dying for.” “Someone disagreed with you once, ma’am,” a dour Jones said, gesturing through the hatch. A mangled corpse floated in place, still hooked to the wall by a tangle of cables, with an expression of utmost horror on his face. “No sign of violence, though. I’d guess he died when the ship decompressed. Poor bastard didn’t have time to get to a suit.” Turning to Sokolova, he asked, “Should we take him back for analysis?” “That’s a negative,” she replied. “Not on this trip, anyway. We’re on a snatch and grab. All we’re interested in is the data in the computer core. Pioneer, do we have anything at all on this class of ship?” “Not a thing, Lieutenant,” Jackie said, after a second’s hesitation. “I don’t think they filed any deckplans. If they did, they didn’t survive the War. You’re on your own.”

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Section 6: The Realities of Deep Space “Then we take it slow,” Sokolova replied, thrusting forward, gently moving past the corpse, glancing into the dead man’s eyes as she passed. “Look at the flag on his sleeve.” “United States of America,” Jones said. “Fifty-three stars. Last one they flew before dissolution.” He looked up at the wall, then commented, “Bonus: everything’s in English. That’s going to make it easier.” Frowning, he added, “No chance that we’ll be able to...” “Lieutenant!” Jackie’s voice barked. “Get out of there right now! We just picked up power readings, building to an energy spike. I think you triggered something. We’re already powering up the Shuttle.” “Roger,” Sokolova said. Jones was already on his way back to the airlock, the line growing taut as he pulsed his suit thrusters for all they were worth. They desperately scrambled back to the Shuttle, their penetration of the colony ship having lasted less than a minute. They raced out into space, the Shuttle’s hatch already open and waiting. Jones glanced down at his sensors, his eyes widening at the readings flooding into his system. Temperature levels were rising aft, power systems coming on. “Maybe it’s just some sort of automatic wakeup, designed to trigger when someone came on board,” Sokolova suggested, her voice laden with doubt. “You want to hang around and find out?” Jones shot back, swinging himself into the airlock, his hand poised over the controls. “Pioneer, this is Jones. We’ll be inside in five seconds. Kick us clear as soon as you register the airlock cycling. Don’t wait for us.” “Way ahead of you, Spaceman,” Jackie replied. “Stand by for the burn. Three. Two. One.” The airlock was slowly filling with air as the engine roared, pushing them to the wall. A second later the Shuttle was hurled to the side, the radiation alarms on their suits sounding, klaxons warning of hull damage that rendered the pressurisation cycle moot. Jones clumsily punched the controls, and turned to Sokolova with a grimace on his face. “Detonation took place fifteen seconds ago. Kiloton yield, but more than enough to destroy that ship. Radiation is high, but within acceptable norms. We’ll have to go through full decontamination before we go back on board, though.” “Why would they do that?” Sokolova asked shaking her head. “It doesn’t make any sense.” “We don’t know that, ma’am. Though I suspect the Captain will soon find out for himself.” — “Benson,” Jackie ordered, “contact Shuttle One on the double. Inform the Captain that my judgement is that he should abort the landing.” Turning to the sensor station, she added, “Spaceman, I want a full analysis of the explosion and a close-range sweep of the landing site. Get another probe ready to go on my order.” “Aye, ma’am,” the technician replied. “I can’t raise the Shuttle,” Benson said, his face falling as his hands danced across the controls. “Not on any frequency. There’s nothing, ma’am. I don’t understand. We should be punching through, and I can’t detect any sign of interference.” Turning to face her, he said, “Nothing that ship could have had on board ought to be able to block our signals.” With a deep sigh, she said, “Then all of this is some sort of trap, and we’ve walked right into it.” Crackling over the speaker, Jones said, “Got first analysis of that big bang, ma’am, if you want it?” “Remind me again why we haven’t given you a commission, Taffy.” “You think I want to handle all that paperwork? You guys get the glory. I just want a nice quiet life. In more urgent news, that wasn’t an old-fashioned device, though I think someone managed to rig it into the ship’s internal systems. That blast was a Mark IV Ripper Missile. United Nations design, though a little on the old side.” “A trap?” Ramone asked. “Not a very good one,” Benson replied. “It didn’t do any damage to us, and we should be able to repair the Shuttle in a few hours. No lasting effects.” “Agreed,” Jackie said. “Someone wanted to make sure that nobody else would grab the ship. There was probably some sort of code transmission we blundered through.” Turning to the rear, she said, “Sensors, have you got anything to tell me yet?” “I’m tracking the Shuttle all the way to the surface, ma’am. She’ll be landing within the next few minutes. Hard to tell for certain, the flight profile has them running a couple of sweeps before they do. Nothing new on the ground, either. Just the same oxygen leak and power signature as before, no changes, no sign of activity that we can detect.” Rattling controls, he continued, “Though I haven’t got the accuracy I’d like.” “Probe status?” “Ready for launch.” “Ma’am,” Benson said, “that might be taken as a hostile act, a prelude to planetary bombardment...” “If everyone’s dead down there, nobody will give a damn. If they’ve regressed to savagery, then they won’t know enough to give a damn. And if they’re technologically advanced, all the evidence suggests that they’re hostile, so I don’t give a damn. Launch the probe, and feed it with a signal to the Shuttle. Maybe it’ll be able to break through to them with a message laser before impact, though I have a feeling that’s going to need more luck than we appear to have at the moment.”

CORE RULEBOOK 62

part 1: the universe “Probe away, ma’am,” he said. Tapping a control, Jackie said, “Corporal Chase, report to the bridge on the double, and have your team standing by at Shuttle Three.” Turning to Benson, she said, “Inform the deck gang that I want our last Shuttle ready for launch in three minutes.” Frowning, the harried technician replied, “I suppose I should remind you, ma’am, that regulations specifically prohibit...” “I know, I know, we’re supposed to keep one bird in the nest in case something happens, but if this isn’t an emergency situation yet, it damn well will be soon. Get that Shuttle ready.” Turning to the helm, she added, “Midshipman, get down there. I know you’re desperate to get your feet dirty, so who am I to stand in your way. Call your relief to the bridge.” “Aye, ma’am,” he said, throwing controls to set the helm for automatic before kicking away to the elevator as the ship settled down into uncontrolled flight, holding a stable orbit over the planet below. Jackie looked out at the landscape, then down at her leg, cursing under her breath. Regulations be damned, she’d have taken the Shuttle down herself, regardless of the manual. This was a place for a seasoned officer, not a rookie. The elevator snapped open, and the deceptively wiry figure of Corporal Chase moved forward, a wry smile on her face as she said, “Reporting as ordered, ma’am?” “Fancy a firefight, Kat?” “Any time, anywhere, ma’am. You know that.” “Good, because I have a feeling you’re about to get one. We’ve lost contact with the Shuttle, and I think they’re walking into some sort of trap down there. Your orders are to proceed to the surface, maintaining contact with us the whole way, and take whatever actions are necessary to extract the landing team. Lethal force is authorised, but only if absolutely necessary.” “I’ll let the bad guys fire first, then, ma’am.” “As long as they don’t hit, Kat. As long as they don’t hit.” — Spaceman Second Class Angela Fox nervously glanced back at the Captain, sitting impatiently at the front of the passenger cabin while she guided the Shuttle towards the surface. She reached across to the communications console, throwing a pair of switches, frowning as the diagnostic program failed to find any technical reason for their inability to contact the ship. “I still can’t raise Pioneer, skipper,” she said. “Should we abort?” Frowning, Rees replied, “We’re almost there. Seems a pity.” With a sigh, he added, “Let’s make a low pass over the target area at least. That won’t cost us any time. Then pull up and go full-burn back to orbit. We might as well get some good data out of this little trip.” “Aye, sir,” she said, her hands moving back to the helm, a thin smile creeping across her face. She’d been flying Shuttles like this since she was fourteen, in her father’s two-man shipping company, one of a thousand haulers working from the Martian surface to service the freighters visiting the planet every day. She frowned as the memories flooded back: the customs patrol catching them with a load of grey-market software, her father’s license being stripped from him for two years, plus a six-month prison sentence. The judge had given her a choice – follow her father to the detention facilities, or sign up for a four-year tour in the new Triplanetary Fleet. When it became apparent that she’d get to fly Shuttles for a living, she agreed to put on the uniform in a second. Captain Rees had rapidly adopted her as his personal pilot – by any rating, she was the best on the ship – and she was already up for promotion to Spaceman First Class when they got home. Sitting on the terminal in her cabin was a request that she sign for a twenty-year tour, with the potential for Officer Candidate School. She’d been sitting on it for a week, trying to make her decision. She’d have to jump one way or another before they entered hendecaspace, that much was certain. Looking out over the terrain, she shook her head. Just more brown desert, nothing different to anything she’d seen on a hundred similar worlds. Tall mountains and wide, low craters dominated everything and the sensors struggled to pick up anything more definitive than the sole heat source they’d spotted from orbit. She looked around the landscape, seasoned enough to know that she still had to trust her own senses first, but was about to give up when she spotted something – the glint of metal in the distance. “Got something, sir. Two o’clock.” Glancing across at her sensors, she added, “That’s the heat source, spot on. Looks like it might be an old colony dome of some sort, buried under a layer of dust.” With a frown, she added, “That’s not something you’d do by accident, sir. They’re deliberately concealing it. Recommend immediate boost to orbit.” “Where’s your sense of adventure, Spaceman?” Rees asked with a smile, as he walked up to the cockpit, peering out at the view. “I don’t see a landing pad, or any other sign of recent activity.” “Isn’t that potentially suspicious in itself, sir?” With a nod, Rees said, “Let’s go by the book. Full speed, Spaceman. Back home on the double.” “Aye, sir,” she replied, a relieved smile on her face as she worked her controls. The smile lingered for barely a second as she tapped for maximum acceleration, the ship refusing to obey her commands, red lights dancing across the heads-up display. There was no sign of trouble, no reason why her ship wouldn’t be responding, but once again, the expected burn didn’t come. “Problem?”

Battlecruiser alamo 63

Section 6: The Realities of Deep Space “She won’t respond, sir. Not at all. Diagnostic systems show nothing wrong.” She sighed, then reached across to the computer security controls, and said, “Firewall breach. We’ve been hacked. Damn good, too. Right through the firewall without triggering any of the alarms. These people knew what they were doing.” “Go to manual,” he said. “Switching over,” she replied, throwing a control, the Shuttle instantly moving from side to side as she struggled to maintain trim, the unfamiliar atmosphere tossing her around. “I’m not going to be able to link-up with Pioneer without computer guidance, sir.” “Just get us to orbital velocity. Someone can come get us.” She reached for the throttle, then gestured at the screen, waving at a small light rising from the surface, heading for them. On instinct, she reached for the physical countermeasures, flooding the air around them with chaff, trying to distract the incoming missile while the Captain strapped himself back in. A glance at the sensor display confirmed her suspicions. Whoever had hacked them wasn’t attempting to shoot them down, just stop them reaching orbit. Fuel was the problem. They had just enough for one long burn, but there was no way they’d be permitted to make it, and right now, they were wasting it at a furious rate. There was only one chance. She had to bring the Shuttle down, right away. Put it somewhere safe. Her eyes desperately scanned the horizon again, this time looking for some sanctuary, somewhere to hide from the enemy that was reaching up from the surface towards them. There it was. A ravine, about ten miles away from the base. Time enough for them to work out some way of defending themselves, or for help to reach them from the ship. She looked across at the communications console, reached for the override switches again, and began a last, desperate plea. “Shuttle One to Pioneer. Shuttle One to Pioneer. Emergency, emergency. Come in, please!” No reply. Just static, roaring over the speakers to answer her. She fired her thrusters, pulling back on the throttle to crest towards the ground, the jagged sides of the ravine rushing towards her. It would barely be wide enough for all the wings to make it through, less than two yards on either side. She’d have to get it right, or they’d end up as a massive fireball, roaring into the sky. Maybe, she thought, she’d given the judge the wrong answer after all. — Petty Officer Peterson looked over the sensor readings from the surface again, rubbing her weary eyes while trying to concentrate on the display. She worked the controls, sending the view flying across the surface of the planet. Making her way from one contact to the next, she hastily ruled out one target after another, sucking the mystery from the landscape a piece at a time. Pioneer was an old ship, obsolete for decades, and in a sane universe would have been retired from service long ago. The Triplanetary Fleet didn’t have that luxury. They had few enough ships as it was, and the idea of removing one from the roster was anathema to the Combined Chiefs. With dozens of light years and hundreds of systems to patrol and explore, ships such as Pioneer were going to remain in service for the foreseeable future. “Anything?” Lieutenant Royce, her supervisor, asked, looking along the row of technicians laboring at their consoles. “Anything at all? We’ve got people down on the surface, and we’ve got to know...” “Something here,” Spaceman Matsumoto said, gesturing at the screen. “I’ve never seen anything like that before. With a sigh, Peterson tapped a control, slaving her console to Matsumoto’s, taking a look for herself at the supposed anomaly on display. While Royce gazed with untrained blindness at the patterns, Peterson recognised it in a moment. “Rock formation, Lieutenant,” Peterson said. “It’s so regular,” Matsumoto protested. “Only from that angle,” she replied. “Take a look with Relay Nine. It’s jagged at the bottom. And the geological analysis suggests that it’s just granite. No sign of artificial working at all. Unless, Spaceman, you are trying to say that you think someone’s building pyramids down there.” Nodding, Royce said, “Well spotted, though, Spaceman. Keep looking. There’s got to be something, somewhere.” The officer left the room, and Peterson glanced after her, shaking her head before returning to her work. The Fleet was full of people like that, paper-pushers who should never have left Mars, with no real field experience, and certainly no command experience. Matsumoto peered myopically at the screen, and Peterson felt a brief pang of sympathy for the untrained technician. A six-week course couldn’t even begin to provide the basis of understanding required for a geological analysis. She flicked to another contact, then another, then a third. It was all too easy for them to blur into one, to miss something important. The computer systems didn’t discriminate enough. A modern sensor network might have reduced the results of the local sweep down to a couple of hundred contacts, easy to skim through in a few hours by a single technician. Pioneer’s aged pickups had produced six thousand, and they’d been trawling through them for endless hours, trying to pick something out. “Attention,” a voice barked over the speaker. “Espatier Force to be launched in four minutes. All launch crews to their stations. All hands to alert status. That is all.” Peterson glanced at the door. Her battle station was two decks down from here, running an emergency damage control team that was meant to monitor life support. Matsumoto was her sidekick, but given the results of the last few drills, she doubted she could count on the young crewman to do much more than hold the flashlight while she worked.

CORE RULEBOOK 64

part 1: the universe Wait a minute. There was something there. Not the indicated anomaly, but something else, off in the corner. She tapped the screen, zooming into the area, and threw in an infra-red filter. A heat source, and this time from a regular shape. She entered a series of commands, tapping into the historical database, attempting to work out what she was seeing. Then it pulsed, flickering on and off, the heat changing in precisely ordered pulses, first two seconds, then four. No system she’d ever seen would work that way. It had to be artificial, someone playing games with the heating systems of some sort of surface shelter. The database flickered into life, and she nodded in approval. An old United Nations design, a prefabricated surface module, designed for long-term habitation. The heat pulses continued, and she frowned at the display, something nagging the back of her mind. She looked across at the communications panel, the electromagnetic spectrum still quiet, aside from the telemetry track coming in from the Captain’s Shuttle. That made sense. Anyone on the surface would be able to monitor their transmissions, and would certainly be able to read anyone signalling on the ground. But they wouldn’t be able to pick up the heat signatures. Not from the surface. And the only objects in orbit were Pioneer and the ruined ship. She looked at the pulses again, some long, some short, and cursed herself under her breath. Someone on the ground was sending a message. The computer took seconds to translate the words from Morse Code, and she ran back through the records, going all the way back to Pioneer’s first entry into orbit. The message was repeated, probably on automatic. She looked at the clock. By the book, she should tell Lieutenant Royce, pass this up the chain of command, but the rescue Shuttle was scheduled to launch at any moment, and based on past performance, she’d waste hours trying to explain what she’d found. Reaching across for a control, she let a thin smile pass her lips. “Bridge here.” “Petty Officer Peterson, down in Planetary Observation. I need to speak to the Executive Officer and Ensign Rojek, on the double.” “I don’t...” “On the double, Spaceman! Get them on the line right now. The life of the Captain depends on it.” — “Listen up!” Ensign Rojek said, looking around the Shuttle. “We’ve got a hot rescue operation, and I need each and every one of you to be on the ball. Unknown targets on the surface, but we can assume hostile, and we can’t go in any closer than a mile to the Captain’s Shuttle, so most of us are going for a walk.” Turning to the grey-haired man at the rear of the cabin, he continued, “Sandy, nice try hiding yourself back there, but you’re on lookout. You and Burke get to stay behind and watch the ship.” “Normal drill, boss?” the veteran Corporal asked. “Full defensive perimeter. I’ve picked us a landing zone that’s nice and flat, a good killing ground, but that works both ways.” Slamming his palm on the hull, he added, “Don’t forget that the topside turret only has a range of half a mile, and for God’s sake, check your transponders.” “What’s the point, boss?” Private Reeves asked. “Damn thing doesn’t work anyway.” “I’ve been assured by the deck gang that our plasma turret is fully operational and ready to go.” “That’s what they said last time, sir,” Reeves replied. Nodding, Rojek said, “Which is why I made a point of indicating that if they managed to mess up again, we’d fix it ourselves, and use the deck gang for target practice.” The squad chuckled, and he continued, “This is fast and dirty, people. We head to the Shuttle, we rescue our people, and we get back up to the surface.” Before he could continue, his communicator squawked, and he snatched it from his pocket. “Rojek. Go.” “Got a mission update for you,” the voice replied. “Someone on the planet is talking to us.” “We still going?” he asked. “There’s a United Nations security force on the surface. Down in force, apparently dropped in about six months back. The colonists are formally requesting our assistance.” A smile curled Rojek’s lips, and he replied, “Music to my ears, ma’am. When do we go in?” “We don’t,” she replied. “They’ve got two companies, Ensign, and you’ve got a slightly overlarge squad. More to the point, apparently they have a ship visiting every six months, and it’s due in a few days. Our timing has been perfect on this one. Your orders remain the same. Rescue our people from the surface, get back to the Shuttle and blast out of there. It’s just that you’re up against United Nations Marshals now, not barbarians with spears. And if you can get any intelligence, so much the better. Got that?” “Got it,” he said, looking up at his squad, a dozen eager pairs of eyes looking back at him. “We’ll get the job done. Rojek out.” He turned to the operations panel for a moment, taking the chance to vent his frustrations quietly, with a few whispered oaths, then said, “You heard most of that. We know who the bad guys are, and we know what we’re facing. Don’t give them a break. You see an UN-man, blow him straight to hell. Got that?”

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Section 6: The Realities of Deep Space “We got that, sir!” the squad replied. He looked around at his men, knowing that they were all eager for the fight. Too eager. Only he and Sandy had ever seen combat, both rookies in the dying days of the Interplanetary War. Both of them had returned to service to join the Fleet, ready for one last campaign. The others were kids, recently-trained, though all of them with stories of dead ancestors, heroically slain in battle. He strapped himself into his couch as the acceleration took hold, pushing him back into his chair. The Shuttle curved into the atmosphere, sliding down towards the surface, as the pilot threw the small craft into the tightest landing profile possible. The less time they were in the air, the better. Even now, the local garrison would be mobilised, trying to work out the rescue party’s landing site, hoping to beat them before they could set up. They’d make it down first, he knew that much. But at some point in the next few minutes, they were going to come under heavy attack. He’d been there before, far too often, though rarely on the surface of a planet. And that was another problem. All of their training had been focused on spaceside operations, their instructors spending far too little time on strategies that worked on the ground. Their opponents had no such troubles. “Two minutes, sir!” the pilot yelled. “I’ve got sensors hot, throwing onto the screen.” Looking up at the monitor, Rojek scowled at the display. There were multiple heat signatures now, figures coming out of hiding to approach the crashed Shuttle and their own landing site. The enemy knew exactly where they were going, and obviously intended to make good use of that intelligence. In theory, they could have snatched the Captain already, but obviously they were hoping to get a bigger strategic prize, wiping out Pioneer’s ground troops. Maybe they would even attempt to take Pioneer herself before she could leave the system. He wasn’t going to let that happen. He looked up at the screen again, checking over the approaches, trying to refine his battle plan. There were always options, always strategies, but he’d never been one to make things complicated. One small force to hold the Shuttle, a larger group to strike out to the Captain. A mile each way, with a drop to the Shuttle at the end. Maybe twenty minutes in each direction. Being conservative, they’d be on their way back up to the ship in an hour. All being well. “Coming in to land!” the pilot said. “Stand by!” “On your feet!” Rojek said. “Check equipment, and go for egress as soon as we hit the dirt. You all know where we’re going. Get there as fast as you can. Last man back on the Shuttle at the end is on latrine duty for a month.” There was a chorus of groans, and he added, “You don’t like the idea, I suggest you hustle!” The landing jets fired, the Shuttle settling onto the soil. As the engines faded away, the airlock’s inner door opened, and Rojek took his place at the front of the column, looking out at the desolate wasteland beyond. It looked like a lousy place to die. — Reeves hated taking point. The first man into a situation was always the most likely one to get a bullet in the gut for his trouble at the best of times. Just to make it even better, they were sprinting across open, flat terrain with only the most limited idea of their destination. The maps being sent down from Pioneer were so low-resolution that they were next to useless, and he’d quickly decided to turn them off, relying instead on his eyes. A burst of plasma fire raced from the Shuttle, half-a-mile behind them, slamming into the same rocky escarpment for the tenth time. The systems might be working, but the targeting computers were shot to hell. No backup, no support. Just another normal mission for the Triplanetary Espatier Corps, so he was learning. He’d finished basic training just in time to take part in the Pacification of Mariner Station, a brutal three-month campaign made worse by the limited weaponry at their disposal. Fighting gangs armed with plasma pistols while equipped only with non-lethal armament was no fun at all, and more than a few of his friends had ended up going home in body bags. Somehow, he’d thought that Pioneer might be an easier ride, a cruise through unexplored space. This he hadn’t expected. Their training had barely covered surface operations, focusing instead on the experience of the old Martian Marines during the War, boarding actions and firefights on space stations. Now he was slogging his way in a gravity

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part 1: the universe field, and his equipment weighed far more than he was used to, most of the tricks he’d learned totally inapplicable to the environment in which he was forced to operate. “Ensign,” he said, peering into the distance. “I think I see the valley.” As he watched, a flare raced from the crack, flying into the air and exploding with sufficient force to be seen as far as the horizon. “We’re there, sir.” “Head to the ledge,” Rojek replied, “and be careful. This could easily be an ambush.” Grimacing, Reeves reduced his pace, careful not to bound too quickly, holding himself back for fear of toppling over the edge. Even in a gravity field this low, the fall would kill him. Glancing to the side, he saw another plasma blast, this time at a different target, and briefly made out a pair of figures, shadowed against the eerie green light. “Sir...” “I see them, Private,” Rojek replied. “Fullerton, Flores, form a defensive position right here. Anything you see that isn’t wearing one of our uniforms, shoot to kill. We don’t have time to ask polite questions today.” “I like those orders, sir,” Fullerton said with the glee of a rookie, her eagerness making Reeves grimace once more. He had to force himself not to snap back with a reply that illustrated the contempt he felt. Most of the people he was serving with seemed to have a death wish. He just wanted to get through his tour of duty in one piece and get back home, spend his military Credits to put himself through college. He didn’t want to die on some burned-out rock in the middle of nowhere. Reaching the edge of the valley, his eyes widened as he saw the Shuttle below, a quarter-mile down and forced at a slope, with a thin line of gas rising into the air – the mark of a life support system leak. He threw in an infrared filter, checking for life signs, and saw two people inside, moving around, seemingly heading to the airlock. “I see the crew,” he reported. “I think they’re getting ready to evac. The Shuttle’s irretrievable under combat conditions. We’d need a heavy winch to free it. Recommend we destroy it as soon as we have our people back.” “I’ve got all the charges we need right here,” Flores said. “Not necessary,” Reeves replied. “The rock’s unstable. A couple of good plasma bursts will bury the Shuttle forever, no problem.” “Right,” Rojek said. “We’ll take guard. You go down with a line and help the crew to the surface.  Move fast, Reeves.” The disgruntled private looked back at his commander, sighed, and slammed a piton into position. He tugged it with all his weight to make sure it was fast, then secured a line to the loop, clipping it onto his helmet. They were operating in one-seventh gravity: falling wasn’t going to be a problem. Avoiding the sea of jagged rocks on the cliff side, however, was another matter. He tested the line once more, looked anxiously at the piton, then hurled himself out into the open, firing his suit jets to control his fall, his hands on the line to slow his descent. His helmet lights flickered on the rocks around, and he glanced down to see a pair of figures emerging from the Shuttle airlock, both of them wearing Triplanetary-issue spacesuits. Then he glanced up to the far end of the canyon, and cursed, spotting a full squad of UN Marshals making their way through the rocks, bare minutes away from his position, already raising their weapons. He was first, swinging his plasma rifle around, firing a pair of wild shots into the rocks, sending boulders tumbling down into the valley floor. Jamming his hand on his controls, he fired all of his thruster fuel in one desperate pulse, barely arresting his descent in time, the force of the impact enough to send him tumbling to the ground. “Are you alright, Private?” Rees asked, his face a mask of concern. “That was one hell of a show.” “All part of the service, sir,” he replied, looking quickly through his suit diagnostics, now a sea of cautionary warnings. “I think we’d better get out of here while the going’s good, sir.” “Agreed, Private,” Rees said, looking up. “Agreed.” — Corporal Sandra “Sandy” Drake hated being left on guard duty. She listened to the chatter on the communicators, a running commentary on a firefight that she had no part in, trying to work out if there was anything she could do. She glanced across at Private Burke, a petrified kid who looked as though he ought to be worrying about a term paper rather than a battle, and hefted her plasma rifle in her hands, checking the charge cycle for the hundredth time. Over her head, the Shuttle’s plasma cannon fired again, triggered by the slightest shadow, the targeting system so sensitive that it was completely useless. The pilot had offered to turn it off, thinking of the strain it was placing on his systems, but she’d overridden him. The enemy didn’t know that it wasn’t working, after all, and a single shot – even an accidental one – might make all the difference in the battle to come, even if it just forced the enemy to keep their heads down for a moment. “Pioneer to Shuttle One.” “Drake here. Go ahead.” “Our people are within a quarter-mile of your location, to the south-east. We’re altering our orbital path to give you an easy ride to the ship as soon as you clear the surface, and our missiles are on-line to counteract any surface launches. Once you leave the ground, you’re home free. Got that?” “Message understood, Lieutenant,” Drake replied with a smile. “We’ll call as soon as we’re on our way back. Estimate five minutes minus. Out.” At least one officer around here knew what he was doing. Aside from Rojek. She looked into the gloom, and finally managed to pick out their people, a single plasma bolt erupting from the weapon of the rear guard, shooting at some unseen target in the darkness. She was still fighting blind, their fragile tactical network unable to cope with the ludicrously low bandwidth of the ship’s sensors.

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Section 6: The Realities of Deep Space “Ensign, do you read me?” Drake asked. “Roger, Sandy. We’re returning with both our lost children, under heavy attack. No casualties so far, but Reeves has suit problems, so I’m sending him first.” There was a pause, a crackle of interference from the discharge of a plasma weapon, and he continued. “We’re going to need covering fire right away. What’s wrong with the damned turret?” “Don’t ask me, boss. I hit it with a rock but that only seemed to make things worse. We’ll watch your back.” Turning to Burke, she said, “Head over to the far side of the Shuttle and hunker down. Take one shot every twenty seconds, even if you don’t have a firm target.” “Every twenty seconds?” the rookie asked. “Exactly twenty seconds? They’ll work out our firing pattern.” “I know,” she said with a smile. “I’m counting on it. Get it done, trooper.” She moved in the opposite direction, dropping to the regolith and raising her rifle into the air, picking out a likely spot on the horizon. She wasn’t out to kill anyone, not today. The enemy were unlikely to give her the chance in any case. In any event, she didn’t have to. As long as she convinced the foes that they had to stay clear of the Shuttle, they’d win. Survival was victory in this operation. They’d come back to finish them off another day. Carefully, precisely, she squeezed the trigger on her plasma rifle, sending a bolt of green flame racing through the air, safely over the heads of her comrades. To the right, on her cue, Burke followed suit, and the countdown to the next bolt began. She wanted the enemy to work out the firing pattern, wanted them to pause every twenty seconds, knowing when they had to take cover. The sternest sergeant in the world couldn’t force his men into a consistent advance under those conditions, and that was precisely what she was counting on. Behind them, the Shuttle’s outer hatch swung open, the thrusters firing pin-point bursts as the pilot prepared for liftoff. The first of the squad ambled forward, and Drake’s eyes widened as she saw the battered suit of Reeves, patched in four places, the control monitor a smashed mess. He stumbled into the airlock, and as she turned back, Drake got her first look at the enemy, a dispersed cluster advancing on the Shuttle from the west. Breaking the firing pattern, Burke fired twice into the clump, torrents of soil and gravel raining down on the advancing troops. They were close now, very close, and two by two, the squad made their way into the Shuttle, the airlock rapidly cycling to admit them in. “Pull in,” she ordered, gesturing at Burke, and the two of them moved closer, a series of plasma bolts now raining down on them from the enemy, forcing them to weave from side to side in a desperate attempt to dodge the fire. She fired a trio of shots in response, belatedly realising that the Shuttle, not the troopers, was the target, and paused at the hatch as the final pair of figures stumbled inside: Rees and Rojek. She waited for what seemed an eternity for the doors to open again, finally pushing Burke inside and climbing in herself, the engines on the Shuttle roaring into life as soon as the outer hatch closed. The pilot did not wait for the pressurisation cycle to complete before speeding from the world. The inner door opened, and Drake stepped inside, starting to strip off her suit as they began their race to Pioneer. “All secure,” the pilot said, his voice crackling over the intercom. “Orbit in four minutes, docking in seven, no sign of offensive operations on the surface.” “Great job, people,” Rees said, looking around the cabin. “Damned great job.” “What about the colonists?” Sandy asked. “We’re coming back for them, Corporal,” the Captain replied. “In force.”

Farmboy John walked over to the hydroponic tank, one of five hundred in his family’s agro-dome, and reached for the controls. Making careful adjustments to the nutrient mix, he cursed, for the thousandth time, the balky automatic systems that refused to properly make the needed corrections no matter how many times he adjusted the programming. Five distance courses from Sagan Tech and he still couldn’t get to grips with it. He looked up at the tank, full of lush, red tomatoes that would fetch a healthy price in the city and hatred filled his heart. Every day was the same, dull routine. Awake at oh-six-hundred to have the same breakfast – something that vaguely resembled eggs with something that could be toast if he closed his eyes, then five hours wandering from one tank to another, a human robot doing tasks that other farms did with machinery, automated systems that his father was too cheap to buy. They never even got to taste anything they grew. The contract specified that everything had to go to the hypermarket at Port Lowell, and the inspectors were ruthlessly efficient. Then lunch, something out of the yeast vat with a slice of something from the second-hand carniculture vat his mother had salvaged from a ruined Freighter. Five more hours with the vats, going from one control system to the next, entering the same commands to nurse the tired systems through one more day. Then, after a depressing dinner, he could get to work with his texts, one lesson after another, labouring to fill the gaps in his education left by his too-early departure from school. His father had browbeaten him to work full-time, promising that things would be different. Except they never were, and never would be, not while he stayed here. The best case would be that he’d inherit a leaky old dome and a mountain of debt, along with a contract with one of the agricultural megacorporations that could never be broken, and he’d spend the rest of his life working the vats, growing tomatoes, onions and broccoli for the wealthy classes, while he ate little better than the welfare brats he’d gone to school with. It just wasn’t fair.

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part 1: the universe He reached into his pocket, pulling out the letter his uncle had sent him, scanning through the beaten datapad for the hundredth time. The first time he’d dared to think of a better life in years, and he’d had to hide it from his parents, knowing what it would mean if he reached for that lifeline. And yet, if he waited much longer, it would be out of reach forever. He’d racked up enough course credits in his eclectic collection of engineering classes to give himself a real shot, but they would be of no use if he waited any longer. “Vat Sixty-Two, son,” his father said, walking over him. “Going through the spec sheets again? I’ve looked at those readouts a dozen times, and I can’t make any sense of it. Say, I think Sagan Tech does a course on those. You might want...” “I took that last year,” he replied, turning to his father. “I told you. I can fix it if you’ll give me some money for the fabricator. A couple of thousand Credits, and all of this could be automated.” Shaking his head, his father replied, “Where am I going to get that sort of money? Face it, we’re stuck doing all this ourselves, and...” “Why?” he asked, his face reddening. “Why are we doing all this? What’s the point?” “A man should own his own land.” “Maybe, but you don’t,” he said, the vitriol finally rising to the surface. “The bank owns most of it, and the agricorp owns the rest. We could walk away tomorrow, and we wouldn’t lose a Credit, and damn it all, you know it.” “Don’t use that sort of language with me, boy,” his father replied. “It’ll get better. If we can put together a surplus next year, then I can pay down some of the debt, and...” “And what? Even if you did, it wouldn’t make any difference. And you’ve said that every year since I was old enough to remember.” Gesturing to the west, he said, “Out on Syria Planum, they’ve got domes ten times this size, with a hundred times the yield. We can’t compete!” “Our family has farmed here for a century. Since before the War, since before the...” “And before that, all of this was empty, airless desert.” Taking a deep breath, he said, “You might be willing to die here. I’m not. Not any more.” He walked towards the vehicle lock, turning his back on his father for the last time. “Just where the hell do you think you’re going to go?” “Port Lowell.” “And then what?” Walking after him, his father said, “If you walk through that lock, boy, you’d better be damned sure that it’s what you want to do, because there’s no coming back. Not this time.” “Thank God for that,” John said, working the controls, stepping into the waiting buggy. He entered in the course he’d plotted dozens of times, setting the auto-return to bring the vehicle back as soon as he was finished with it, and quickly checked to make sure his bag was where it should be, on his seat. There was a second bag next to it, one he didn’t recognise, and he reached for it, carefully looking at the scrawled handwriting of his mother on a note clipped to the top. “We’ll always be thinking of you,” he read, and a tear came to his eye. He opened the bag, and the smell of ripe tomatoes escaped, half a dozen of them sitting inside, ready to eat. He smiled, then reached for the communicator, entering the tendigit code his uncle had sent him, the last thing he had to do before settling down for the journey. He waited for a moment, then the display flickered on, a uniformed figure sitting at a desk in front of the camera pickup. “Port Lowell Triplanetary Recruitment Office. How can I help you?” “My name is John Clarke. I’d like to make an appointment for later today,” John said. “I’d like to join the Fleet.” He tapped a control, and said, “Here are my qualifications, everything up to now.” The man looked to the side, smiled, and said, “We’ll have your uniform waiting for you at this end, Spaceman. Welcome to the Triplanetary Fleet.”

Freedom Fighter Night came swiftly on Columbia, the last rays of the sun dropping below the Giant’s Teeth Mountains to the west, looming over the vast plain like the final monuments of a long-dead civilisation. Through the gathering gloom, a quartet of black-clad figures passed, racing through the shadows, pausing for long moments to allow the security cameras to sweep harmlessly by. Months of practice had made them expert at avoiding the clumsy detectors and long familiarity with the sentry patrols had taught them which of the guards were inattentive enough to allow them access. Regina Merritt took the lead, the wiriest of the four, a dart gun nestled in her hand in case they failed to escape the patrols. Out on the fringes of Carter City, the buildings grew larger, warehouses storing the precious minerals hewn from the ground beyond. They were the life-blood of the colony, the reason for the presence of their United Nations oppressors. She looked up at a crimson flag, fluttering in the breeze, and grimaced. It should have been the blue and green stripes of Columbia Colony, now consigned only to dusty museums and the dreams of the few remaining patriots.

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Section 6: The Realities of Deep Space Five years ago, the United Nations had arrived in flaming ships, a bare decade after her people had rediscovered space flight. They had begun to open up trade with other colonies, other worlds. Their rich mines had made them a worthy prize, however, and their technological backwardness made them an easy prey. The war had been short, bloody and decisive. She paused for a moment, glancing back at the rest of the infiltration team. Captain Silva returned a confident gaze even through the smeared brown paste on his face. One of the few remaining members of the old Columbia Territorial Guard, hidden Underground for a generation, he still looked as though he could have just stepped from a parade ground. Behind him followed Salvador Gonzalez, barely old enough to wield a razor but with an instinctive genius for computer systems, and John Russell, by day a Shuttle pilot, by night a saboteur, bringing up the rear. Footsteps pounded the concrete ahead of them, a patrol walking the streets, enforcing the perpetual curfew. One of the guards glanced their way and for an instant she raised her gun, ready to silence him in the only way she could, even if it meant aborting their mission. A dozen times already their raids had ended with a swift race into the night, sirens and gunshots in their wake as they raced for safety. Time was running out. They had to complete their task, and soon. The guard turned away, returning to his patrol pattern, catching his partner at the run. Releasing a breath she didn’t know she had been holding, Merritt continued on, following the side of the building, still with one eye on the sweeping cameras above. Up ahead, the starport waited, a hundred Shuttles resting on the field, ready to transport the mineral wealth of Columbia to the Freighters hovering in orbit above. They held a fortune in uranium and gadolinium, her world exploited for the benefit of others, the politicrats of far Earth. Above, the stars were coming out as the last of the light faded, glittering constellations shining down from the sky. They were the same as her ancestors had seen a century ago when the first colony ships landed from Old Earth, refugees fleeing a terrible war, their homelands devastated by nuclear fire. Columbia had been the answer to a prayer, a dream in the darkness of space, but their dream had died when the enemy arrived. The group had almost reached the gates. As expected, a pair of guards stood either side, cameras swinging around. She glanced back at Gonzalez, who tugged a battered datapad out of his pocket, hastily working to interrupt the feed from the pickups, replacing the scenes with those recorded the night before. If he got it right, the transition would be seamless, unnoticeable. If he failed, the wail of klaxons would provide musical accompaniment to their flight into the shadows and the guards racing after them once again. She glanced down at her watch, counting seconds. Two other cells were at work tonight, on missions designed solely to distract the occupiers for long enough to give them their chance. These decoys knew they were risking their lives to allow Merritt and her team to complete their mission. Eight loyal patriots: lives she would not see squandered. Finally, Gonzalez gave her a curt nod, and she and Silva raised their guns at the guards once more, carefully aiming for the most vulnerable part of their bodies. The darts contained a tranquiliser that would act in less than two seconds, crippling the vocal cords first – one of the few weapons they had been able to smuggle in from their off-world friends. The two rebels fired as one, the guards dropping to the ground, one of them clutching futilely at his throat as he fell, indistinct croaks coming from his mouth. Without waiting to check, the group raced forward onto the field, knowing that someone would investigate in a matter of moments when the guards missed their scheduled communications session. They had only a little time, and it would have to be enough. As planned, Silva and Russell raced in another direction, charges in hand, ready to create a distraction for them. The resistance had attacked the starport before, a legendary night raid a few years ago led by Silva witnessing the destruction of half a hundred Shuttles with carefully placed charges. With luck, nobody would think to look further than the twisted ruin the demolitions team was about to create. Merritt and Gonzalez had other work ahead. Following a long-memorised path, they sprinted for one of the Shuttles, already loaded and ready to launch, destined for orbit in a matter of hours. The pair were in such haste that they almost stumbled into a guard leaning by a landing leg, sucking on a glowing vape stick, a curl of smoke rising to the air. She tumbled to the right, dragging the hacker with her, and the guard looked up for a long heartbeat before shaking his head, and walking off into the cold night. “Too close,” Gonzalez whispered. “Which way?” “Wait one,” Merritt quietly replied. “Until we’re sure it’s clear.” “That patch on the gate will only work for five minutes, Reggie.” “I know,” she hissed. Gesturing ahead, she said, “Come on.” The two of them resumed their approach to the Shuttle, sitting alone on the edge of the field, already cleared for takeoff. The cargo hatch was locked tight, a figure in the softly glowing cockpit working through the laborious pre-flight sequence, engrossed sufficiently in his work not to notice the figures racing to the rear. Merritt glanced behind her, trying to spot the rest of the team, but all was silent and still in the night. She looked at her watch again, then froze at the sound of footsteps once again... quick paces on the concrete: the perimeter patrol was early. Ahead, the guards were talking in low, murmured whispers, and she dropped down, rolling underneath the Shuttle, sliding on the oily residue from the careless maintenance team. Something was dripping onto her, and she shook her head, wondering if the aging ship would reach orbit. The heat shield was burned and scorched from a thousand re-entries – clearly, it was one of the last Shuttles that Columbia had produced before the Occupation had brought an abrupt end to local spaceship construction. Another relic of a happier time. Just like her.

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part 1: the universe Finally, the unexpected patrol moved on, hastily returning to the guardhouse for badly-needed coffee, and she rolled back out from underneath the Shuttle. Gonzalez was leaning by the hull, gun in hand. “Don’t be a fool,” she hissed. “Put that damned thing away. Out here it’ll only get us killed.” “But...” “Start your hack, and be quick,” she replied. “We’ve got to be out of here in two minutes, or we’ll never clear the perimeter in time.” Nodding, the hacker pulled out a datapad, clipping a cable to the hull as he frantically started to type, working to crack into the Shuttle’s network, slicing through the security firewall. While his attention was focused on the task at hand, Merritt looked back out into the gloom, running through the timeline in her head. By now, Silva and Russell would have planted their explosives, already on their way to the rendezvous point by the tanker park. In a few minutes, there would be guards everywhere, and they were running too far behind schedule. She glanced at her watch, briefly tempted to abort the mission, to wait for a better day, but shook her head. They’d never made it this far, not through the tightened security, and they might never get another chance. “How long?” she whispered. “As long as it takes,” he replied, his eyes not moving from the datapad. “I’m getting there.” More footsteps echoed in the distance, out on the far side of the field, but she knew the second patrol would be on them in a moment. Her hand reached for her dart gun again, her finger running across the clip. Four shots left, each of them irreplaceable. She had a conventional pistol at her belt, old Guard issue, but the noise would wake the field. The sidearm was a last resort, albeit a comforting one. “Come on, Sal,” she muttered. “Come on.” “Got it!” the hacker said. “Loading the program now. Fifteen seconds, and we’re out of here.” He tapped a sequence of controls, a smile cracking through the black gunge smeared on his face. The footsteps were getting closer, the chances of making a successful escape falling with every pace. “Done.”

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Section 6: The Realities of Deep Space “Follow me,” she whispered, keeping low as she raced across the field, two shadows briefly dancing across the ground as they raced to the nearest Shuttle. The last few seconds were counting down, and soon they would be given the distraction they needed to escape. Her eyes roamed across the perimeter fence, seeking the spot that had been weakened by the last maintenance crew, ready to snap open at the lightest touch. She saw more guards in the distance, but this time she could afford to ignore them as a thunderclap echoed across the field, the roar of an explosion followed by a column of smoke and flame rising into the night. The sirens she had feared sounded, but now they were working to her benefit as the guard raced towards the ruined Shuttle, emergency equipment moving in to extinguish the flames. A second explosion followed, gaining fortunate collateral damage and the two of them used the opportunity to dash to the fence. The others were already waiting for them, pistols in hand. “All set?” Silva asked. “Locked and loaded,” Gonzalez replied. “Embedded nice and deep. Our friends should get the message, but nobody else will.” “I hope not,” Silva said, pushing against the fence, the wires springing back, resisting his touch. His face fell into a frown as he tried again, with the same result. “This is the place.” “Damn,” Russell said. “They must have found it, replaced it.” “We’ll just have to try the main gate,” Silva replied. “That’s crazy!” Gonzalez said. “You got any better suggestions?” the veteran asked, tugging his old service revolver free of its holster. “Fast and nasty, people. Blast a way through and run for it. We’ll meet up at Marconi’s, and for God’s sake don’t let yourself get taken alive. I’m not going through all this for nothing.” Without waiting for reply or argument, he raced along the perimeter, no longer caring about the cameras that were following their every move. They were camouflaged well enough that if they lived through this, they wouldn’t be identified, and the perimeter guards would already be on full alert, already aware there were intruders on the field. The time for caution was long past. Carefully placing her dart gun into her pocket, Merritt pulled out her pistol, feeling the weight in her hand, and followed her leader across the shadows. Across the field, searchlights snapped on, seeking out the saboteurs, flashing around blindly in a desperate attempt to make contact. The low wail of sirens sounded from the street, a rumble of engines were heard as fire trucks moved to respond to the blaze. Almost on cue, a third explosion rippled across the starport, and Silva looked back with a guilty smile on his face. Another little surprise for the guards, something else to keep them busy and give his people a chance to escape. The main gate lay ahead, and a quintet of troopers were loitering around, leaderless and lost in the confusion. The way to the street was otherwise clear. Merritt dared to think that this might be easier than they had feared as she leveled her pistol at the nearest guard, trying to force the hate to the fore to make her task easier. In her twenty-four years, she had never killed a man, not even after ten years in the Underground. Now they had no choice, not if they were to escape. She could tell herself that he was one of the hated enemies, condemning her people to slavery, but somehow, she knew that she’d be living this night again in her dreams, for the rest of her life. She took the shot, cold instinct beating raw emotion, and watched as the guard crumpled to the ground. Taking their lead from her, the rest of the team opened fire, another of the troopers falling back against the fence, blood running from the wound on his shoulder. Now the lacklustre guards responded, firing their weapons on full-automatic, hoping to scare the rebels to surrender. It was a foolish gesture, and the rebels responded with four carefully-placed bullets, silencing the chattering rifles as they advanced to the gate. For an instant, it looked as though they had defied the odds but as they reached the road, a pair of well-placed shots came from the night, one of them neatly catching Silva in the leg, sending him toppling to the ground. Gonzalez didn’t even look back, racing into the shadows, but Merritt and Russell turned as their commander cried out in pain. Behind them, voices cried out, guards moving into position, the clouds of smoke covering their approach. Russell looked down at the leg, then up at Merritt, shaking his head. “We’ll carry you,” Merritt said, reaching down for Silva. “No way,” he replied. “I guess my luck ran out.” He struggled to turn, then added, “Get out of here, Reggie. That’s an order. My last. Make it count.” Gasping with the pain, he continued, “Make sure I died for something. Now get moving.” Russell looked at her, tugging her sleeve, and with one last look at Silva, they turned and sprinted into the darkness, taking a twisted route through the shadows. The old soldier only had a few rounds of ammunition left – he could not hold back the enemy for long, but as Merritt reached the safety of the nearest warehouse, the fourth explosion of the night made his intentions clear. The gate erupted in smoke and flame, taking the pursuers with them. Merritt sprinted into the shadows beyond the perimeter, beginning the long, stealthy return to the safety of town. She glanced back at the field one last time, seeing flickering fires still raging, sweeping across the field. They’d set out to cover their real mission and, one way or another, they’d certainly accomplished that. Beyond, the darkness beckoned, and she sped on into the gloom. Somewhere in the night, the other two members of her cell were making their own silent approach to town. After a few moments, she relaxed, slowing her pace, confident that she’d given the security forces the slip. She paused in the shadow of a burned-out tenement, sliding her pistol back into its holster. “Don’t worry, Captain,” she muttered under her breath. “We’ll make sure they never forget.”

CORE RULEBOOK 72

part 1: the universe

Letter Home From: Senior Lieutenant Susan Jones To: Donna Jones Hi Honey! Don’t worry, you certainly aren’t the first one to ask just what an Operations Officer actually does, and I have a feeling that you won’t be the last! Essentially, I’m responsible for organising the ship’s command and control functions – which primarily means the bridge. All training and supervision for bridge personnel falls under my jurisdiction, and a bigger collection of clowns and jokers you will never see, I swear. Basically – I’m in charge of the people who actually fly the ship. You wanted to know about a typical day, right? You’d better get a good grade on this paper after all of this, but here we go. I get up at around 0600, and usually clock about an hour in the officer’s gym first. Doc Mitchell’s always riding us if we gain as much as a pound – you should have heard her complaining about your father’s cooking when I reported back on board last month. (Incidentally, tell him that everyone loved the raisin cookies, and that he needs to make at least twice as many next time; they barely lasted twelve hours, and that was keeping them to the wardroom!) After that, I hit the shower. Trust me, I need to after that workout! Then breakfast, usually in my cabin, going over everything I need to do for the day. Yes, there are people telling me what to do! Most of it’s the same normal flight routine, but there’s always something special going on. That’s part of the fun. This morning, I had a two-hour simulation, starting at 0830, running Beta Watch through some battle drills. (I raided the database for some clips, so you can show your classmates Mom playing at being Space Captain!) It sounds like fun, and you know what? It is! For the next two and a half hours, I had personnel meetings. Quarterly assessments, when we check the progress and performance of everyone on the ship, just like the meetings we have with your teacher every term. (By the way – I expect you to do a lot better than a B-minus in physics next semester, or we’re going to have some harsh words!) There were ten of them, mostly just normal stuff, though Joe Boyce – you know, Maria’s father – is putting in for Officer Candidate School, so we’re starting him on the preliminary courses. We’re all pulling for him. That takes me through till lunchtime, and that’s when I really miss your father’s cooking. We ran out of the fresh stuff two weeks ago, so we’re on a purely synthetic selection now, and everything tastes like chicken. I used to like chicken, but coffee is meant to taste like coffee! They keep promising that we’ll get better synthetics, but I’ve been hearing that story for the last ten years, and every time we come out of refit, it all tastes exactly the same. I held back a bit of oregano and turmeric from the last package you sent out, and it helped make the soup at least a little edible. I think everyone on board has their own little pouch of herbs hidden away somewhere. Except for Foster, who loves his chillies. I swear he’s growing them somewhere. Might have to look into that – if he is I’d like a few for myself! After lunch, a meeting with the senior staff – the Captain, Exec, Tactical Officer and Systems Officer. Sandy Petrova, as well, this time. She’s the new Science Officer, and gave us a briefing on what her new department was meant to do. Left us none the wiser, and I’m not sure she knows either! It’s a brand new role, and as I understand it, she’s going to serve as a sort of general coordinator on exploratory missions. Which might mean our next trip out is a long one. We’re all hoping to get one of the deep space patrols. That’s what I joined up for. Of course – this means that you could follow dad’s footsteps as well as going to space, if you wanted to. I heard that Alamo’s getting an anthropologist, and Thunderchild’s meant to be getting a comparative economist, whatever one of those is. So if you still want to be a historian, you might be able to get into the Fleet after all. I’ve sent a message to an old friend of mine at the Academy for you. Four hours on the bridge after our meeting, covering for Lieutenant Duval. Idiot managed to break his leg during unarmed combat training. I told him that he wasn’t going to win against Sergeant Singh, but he wouldn’t listen! Doc Mitchell’s got him confined to quarters for the next few days. Apparently he’s not a very good patient. So I got to sit in the command chair again, but we’re still in hendecaspace at the moment, so there wasn’t much to do. More simulations, and I got to catch up on the paperwork a little. That’s what most of my life consists of – paperwork. Form after form after form. And if you think I’ve got it bad, the Captain has ten times as much as I do. When I was your age, I wanted a command of my own, but the closer you get to it, the more you realise just what it represents. Which doesn’t mean I’d turn one down! That’s why I switched to the Triplanetary Fleet in the first place – got me that step nearer my goal. Sometimes you have to do that, honey. Take a risk to achieve your dreams. It’s always worth it in the end. Dinner with a few of the officers after my shift ended, and I played chess with Lieutenant Walensky. And lost. Though it never really was my game; she’s much better at it than I am! Then I headed back to my cabin, and started to write this letter, and that takes me about up to now! We’ll be arriving at Proxima in about thirty hours, and I’ll get this transferred with the rest of our message packets when we do, so you should get it in about seven days, I think, with a little luck. I love you very much, honey. Give Dad a big hug from me.

Mercenary Thorin Redwood looked from side to side, watching for signs of pursuit. The spaceport was dark, with only a single man on guard, who was now slumbering on the floor after carelessly exposing his back to him – an easy mark for a quick stab with a tranq dart. He reached over to a security panel, entered a ten-digit combination, and the monitors instantly flickered over to a reset pattern. If anyone was watching, it would look as though the guard was simply running a diagnostic. Nothing to worry about, nothing out of the ordinary, but it would buy him time to complete his mission.

Battlecruiser alamo 73

Section 6: The Realities of Deep Space He’d been told to steal Shuttle Three. That’s all he knew. He wasn’t even sure of the name of his contact. Just steal the Shuttle and get to a rendezvous point, for which he would receive the usual compensation. Life as a mercenary was tough at the best of times, but he had had little choice after defecting from the United Nations Space Force during the Interplanetary War. Despite a brief tour in the Martian Space Service, nobody really trusted him. That wasn’t a problem. He’d developed a reputation as a man able to undertake certain tasks for the right pay, who wouldn’t ask too many questions. All he cared about was that the danger level was as advertised, and that his payment was stored in escrow in the usual account. That was enough for him. He glanced down at the datapad in his hand, waiting for the trajectories to line up before stepping through the lock. As far as he knew, he’d managed to disable all the local security, but he hadn’t lived as long as he had by taking unnecessary risks. Better to wait for the right moment. The orbits danced, and a green light flashed on the display. Time to move. He raced across the deck, taking huge strides in the microgravity, and slammed his handprint onto the Shuttle’s access panel. It opened without hesitation – the bribe he’d given to the local maintenance technician had been as effective as he’d hoped. Outworld Extractions needed to pay its personnel better; sticking to the mandated minimum wage was almost begging for corruption on the part of the workforce. Without hesitation, he slid into the cockpit, the controls lighting up as he settled into the command chair. He quickly ran through an abbreviated version of the pre-flight checklist, a wave of reassuring green lights flickering onto the heads-up display, and he tapped in a final security code to open the external airlock, depressurising the deck. That was too much for the surveillance software to ignore, and alarms began to sound as the air leaked away, the whole complement of the base now aware that someone was stealing one of their ships. He tapped the thruster control, sending the Shuttle rising a metre into the air, then gently eased the throttle forward to clear the dome, turning it on all the way as he soared into free space, out into the tangled landscape of Patroclus. The Jupiter Trojans were filled with prospecting companies, hundreds of isolated outposts drifting among the rocks. Presumably one of them was attempting to give Outworld some trouble, but he didn’t know the details. He didn’t need to know. Nor did he especially care. He glanced at the cargo manifest, only checking that the ship’s centre of gravity had been properly calculated, and nodded in satisfaction. A single package, one quarter-ton, sitting by itself in the aft hold. Something worth the hundred thousand Credits he was being paid for this job... assuming he wasn’t working for a moron, which happened all too often. Instead of immediately racing into free orbit, he hugged the terrain, eagerly harnessing all the boost he could steal from the asteroid’s gravity, looping around it half a dozen times at a frenetic pace that would hopefully confuse the hell out of the ground controllers. That too had been part of the plan, and he was grateful to finally pull away from the asteroid, settling onto course for a waiting Transport up ahead, his escape route from the system. Behind him, a contact appeared on the screen, and he raised an eyebrow in silent approval. The commander of the base was a fast worker, it had taken him less than a minute to scramble someone to intercept, but Thorin had far too much speed for any possible pursuer to catch him. A Fighter might have pulled it off, but even then, it would have been touch-and-go. Not that there were any combat vehicles out there. If there had been, his fee would have been considerably higher. “Shuttle Three to Lucky Rabbit,” he said, throwing the communicator to a pre-arranged encryption code. “On approach. I’ll have to dock on the first try. Are you ready for egress?” “Affirmative,” a computer-mangled voice replied, the ship’s commander understandably eager to preserve his anonymity. “We’re ready when you arrive.” Thorin frowned as he logged onto the transponder of the ship up ahead. It took him only a few seconds to crack through the falsified systems and slice his way into the true identity of the Freighter, though neither the name nor the company meant anything to him. Just one more idiot with more money than sense, hoping to strike it rich as a free trader by purchasing a ship from one of the legion of bankrupt haulers, he figured. It’d be on auction again soon enough, if its commander was resorting to work like this. Not that it was his problem, as long as it gave him passage to Carpenter Station. “Shuttle Three,” a crisp voice replied. “Return to base at once. At once. I can offer you amnesty, and...” He flicked off the communicator with the touch of a button. Amnesty was nice, but it didn’t pay the bills. And besides, he was an honest mercenary – he always honoured his contracts... it was usually safer that way. Firing his thrusters once more, he settled into docking position, resting his hand on the controls should the computer fail on first approach. Already there were three more contacts heading his way from other asteroids, and while he didn’t think they could catch him, he didn’t want the Freighter captain to panic and do something they’d both regret. The docking clamps locked on the first try, and a second later, the familiar blue flash heralded the ship’s safe transfer to hendecaspace. Thorin breathed a distinctly unprofessional sigh of relief. Another successful mission. Another contribution to his retirement fund. Just another dozen jobs like this, and he’d be set for life. Of course, he’d said that before. Three years ago, he’d been one of the idiots attempting to make it as an independent Freighter captain. And all being well, in six months or so, he would be again.

CORE RULEBOOK 74

Section 6: The Realities of Deep Space

Patrolman “Halt in the name of the Patrol!” Flight Officer Pavel Riley yelled, snatching his pistol from the holster slapping against his leg, taking quick aim at the suspect fleeing into the abandoned colony dome, who cycled the lock before Riley could stop him. The young man cursed under his breath, sprinting towards the empty installation in a series of quick bounds, the ultralow gravity of Adrastea as much of a curse as a blessing. He glanced back at his Shuttle, waiting safely in a crater, out of reach, then looked up at Father Jupiter hanging in the sky. In the old days, there would have been half a dozen people out here, a ship waiting in orbit to provide reinforcements. Now he was on his own, one man against who knew how many, the cut-backs from the birth of the Triplanetary Fleet bringing lawlessness to the outer limits of the Jovian Sub-system. Adrastea was just one more empty world tumbling through space, a single outpost placed here by some forgotten mining company during the War, abandoned when the economic realities of life came home to roost. He’d been on deep patrol out here, spotted the heat signature from the dome through sheer luck – though given the outcome, mischance might be a better word. Headquarters had ordered him to investigate, and so far, all he’d learned was that the man he was chasing was a lousy shot. He reached the airlock, tapped in his override code, and sighed at the flashing red light that indicated a rejection of his security classification. Either the owners had been trying to hide something, or the new occupant was smart enough to change all the access coding. Both were equally possible explanations, but it didn’t matter at the moment. He looked up at the dome, frowning, pondering other accessways. He had the equipment on his Shuttle to crack the dome open, a plasma rifle that would easily tear through the fragile material, but that didn’t seem to be the answer either. Odds were that anyone inside would die long before they could get to the safety of a suit. And yet, if he cracked the airlock, they’d have enough warning to prepare a surprise for him, and he doubted the festivities would be anything he’d particularly enjoy. He looked down at the symbol of the Patrol, emblazoned on the arm of his spacesuit. Even now, after everything, it still stood for something. Something special, and something that prevented him from taking the easy approach. Fishing through his pockets, he plucked out a hacking rod, sliding it into position, and waited for it to slice through the coding, the green light finally, reluctantly, winking into life. Then he reached for the controls, working the pressure sequencers, tapping one override after another as it waited outside the lock, placing one of his sensor filaments onto the wall. The crude plan worked, and he heard the report through the link, his hand dancing across the controls to operate the emergency systems. He opened the outer door before the airlock had quite depressurised, the puff of oxygen blowing a cloud of dust across the surface. He raced through the lock, stepping out into the empty space beyond, pistol in hand. On the floor, he saw a man lying unconscious, pistol in hand. There were two children sitting behind him, clutching each other with fear in their eyes, one of them reaching hesitantly for a rifle, trying to muster an air of defiance. “Don’t hurt my daddy!” she yelled. “Hold it,” Riley said, lowering his pistol as he took off his helmet. “What the hell is going on here?” Looking down at the man, he asked, “This man is your father?” She nodded, and pressed, “Don’t hurt him.” “He tried to kill me,” Riley replied, kneeling down and prising the pistol from his fingers. He pulled a medical datapad from his pocket, running it over him, and said, “No permanent damage. He’ll have a hell of a headache when he wakes up, but that’s all he’s going to have. Though given what he’s done, he’s going to face jail time. Where’s your mother?” “They killed her,” the other girl said, tears flowing from her eyes. “Daddy found something on one of the moons. Gader, gado...” “Gadolinium?” Riley asked. “He’s a prospector?” “Some bad men came, and said they wanted him to work for them. He told them he wouldn’t, and then they tried to kill him. We ran, ran away, but they killed mama…” She collapsed to the floor, her sister holding her tightly, and said, “They would have killed us all if they could. The first man said that before dad shot him.” “Why didn’t he go to the Patrol?” With hatred in her eyes, the elder of the two said, “The first man wore the same uniform you did.” Riley sighed. No organisation was completely free of corruption, and while the word of a Patrolman was usually his bond, these days it was getting harder and harder to find good personnel. He holstered his pistol, reached into his pocket for a medical kit, and knelt down beside the father. “I’ll have him on his feet in about fifteen minutes. Then we’re all getting out of here, and I’m going to make sure you get home in one piece. We’ll sort all this out. You have my word as an officer.” “But...” Looking up at the girl, he said, “You’re under my protection now, and nothing bad will happen to you. That’s a promise.” Before he could continue, a warning light on his watch flashed, messages streaming across the display. The telemetry from his Shuttle had been abruptly interrupted, his ship destroyed on the ground. It didn’t take any imagination to guess what was happening outside, and they were going to have company at any time. “Find a rescue ball,” he said, “and get into it right now. Your father as well.” He drew his pistol again, facing the airlock. “What about you?” the girl asked, her sister scrambling at the walls for the equipment. “I gave you my word, kid. And I intend to keep it.”

CORE RULEBOOK 76

part 1: the universe

Smuggler’s Life “Quiet,” Jack said, glancing across at his co-pilot. “Let me do the talking. I know how this game is played, and around here, you don’t.” “But…,” Bill replied, silenced by a glare from Jack as the Patrolman approached, datapad in hand, walking over to the docking port. The man looked behind him, into the Shuttle, then stared at the two pilots as though his eyes alone were a lie detector. “Let’s get this out of the way. Anything to declare, before I search your ship and find out what you are actually carrying?” Pulling out a datapad, Jack replied, “Fifty tons of mixed machine parts. All going direct to Teddy’s Yard. And two crates of Martian Vodka, for Teddy himself.” Sweeping his hand down the display, he added, “As you can see, I prepaid the import duty before I left. All nice and legal.” Glancing at Bill, he added, “There’s nothing to find here, Patrolman, and I want to be out of here in a hurry. Is there any way we can move this along any faster?” Frowning, the guard replied, “Why, is that a gentle hint that you might be willing to offer me a bribe? You realise that’s a Category Four crime.” With a sigh, Jack said, “Fine, get it over with.” He stepped back, out of the way, and allowed the Patrolman to walk past him into the cabin, grimacing as the man made notes on his datapad, doubtless spotting the numerous ways in which he’d been skimping on the maintenance routine of late. He could already sense the fines heading his way, but he could live with that. Following the inspector into the cargo cabin, he watched as the man ran his hand scanner over the crates, looking for any sign of trouble, any anomaly that could be exploited. Jack had been running cargo between Mars and Jupiter for the better part of a decade, and despite widespread suspicion, had never been caught smuggling cargo into Jupiter-space, though he’d had a few narrow escapes over the years. This time, the guard found what he was looking for, and turned back to Jack with a triumphant smile on his face, cracking open a container and fishing around inside it, rummaging through the packaging to find the hidden compartment at the heart of the box, one that Jack had hoped would evade the scanning systems. He reached down, pulled it out, and rested it on the deck, while Bill looked on with panic spreading across his face. “This is your ticket to a penal colony, mister,” the guard said with a sneer, triumph overriding common sense as he cracked open the container. Inside were more machine parts, the same as those in the larger container, and the guard rummaged through them with growing confusion, scattering components on the deck in his frantic search. Grasping at straws, he scanned the hidden box itself, looking for any sign of suspicious components, anything that might grant him the prize he was looking for. “Are you finished?” Jack asked, a thin smile on his face. Waving the box in the air, the guard replied, “What is the meaning of this?” “It’s a box,” Jack said, sotto voce. “That’s it. I used it to put a few parts in that Teddy wanted me to keep separate. You’d have to ask him why. I was just doing what I was told.” Stuffing the parts back into the box, the guard replied, “I’m going to have to impound these items for further analysis. You’d better not plan on leaving the station before...” “Are you placing formal charges?” Jack asked. “As for the box, that’s not my problem. I got it here, and when you’re done with it, you can take it back to the shipyard yourself. But unless you have grounds to hold me, I’ve got a schedule to keep, and I intend to keep it.” Rising to his feet, box in hand, the guard said, “I don’t know what sort of a scam you are pulling here, but I know you aren’t going to get away with it. We’re going to scan this stuff down to the molecular level, and as soon as we work out just what you’re hiding, I’ll be coming back with a dozen officers.” “Great. Bring pizza. I don’t have food for that many people.” The guard stormed out of the Shuttle without another word, and Jack sat down with a relieved sigh on his couch, while Bill walked back to the open crate, starting the slow process of loading everything back inside, ready for the deck gang to arrive with the loaders. He rummaged through the box himself, then turned to Jack, his face a mask of confusion. “I give up,” he said. “What exactly was all that about? You seemed to be going out of your way to piss the guy off. I figured he’d throw us in a cell and toss the keycard out of the nearest airlock.” “Not in Callistan territory,” Jack replied, shaking his head. “They love their rules and regulations, and they’ll follow each and every one of them to the end. You can count on that, as much as you can count on anything. They’re nothing if not reliable.” He glanced at his watch, and said, “I’d love to see his face when he realised he just impounded a box of waste extractor parts.” “But why?” Bill asked. “What was the point?” “Carter Station has six inspectors, and eighteen docking ports. In theory, they run the inspections by random draw, but we all know there are certain people they keep coming back to, and I happen to be one of the favoured few. I guess they just don’t like me.” “So?” With a satisfied smile, Jack reached into a cabinet and pulled out a beer, replying, “While our friend was wasting his time here, just think what was getting past him on the other ships!”

Battlecruiser alamo 77

Section 6: The Realities of Deep Space

Space Battle Captain Winter’s eyes snapped open as the alert claxon sounded, and he reached for the cold cup of coffee on his desk, taking a deep sip as he struggled to rouse himself. The status panel on his office wall flashed with tactical updates, and he quickly scanned the display, the image before him sending a scowl creeping across his face. Two enemy Frigates of an old Republic design, closing on a rapid intercept course. His fingers snapped a control, and the image of the duty officer replaced the tactical display. “How the hell did we miss them, Jack?” he asked, and the officer’s face reddened in reply. “Sensor blind spot, skipper,” he replied. “With twenty-four moons, there are a lot of places to hide. Best guess is that they were hiding out somewhere, waiting for us to reach the best position for a strike.” Glancing off-camera for a moment, Jack added, “Standard Type-Nine, first tranche, no obvious upgrades. They are not responding to hails. I guess we found our Separatists.” “All hands to battle stations. Espatier contingent on standby. Contact all outposts in-system, have them go to alert condition as well. Focus on sabotage. Someone might be using this as a distraction. And have Mueller check the long-range sensors again. If anyone wants to leave the system, this would be a perfect opportunity.” “Aye, sir.” “Alpha Team to the bridge, I’ll be up myself in a minute. Captain out.” He snatched his jacket from the back of his chair, knocking the remnants of his coffee to the floor, cursing as the stain joined the host of others on the long-abused carpet. Pulling a datapad from the pile on the desk, he raced into the corridor, jogging towards the waiting elevator, sirens wailing as the crew sped to their battle stations. He knew the local area well enough by now. WISE 0855−0714 was a dim brown dwarf with an uninspiring name, which happened to be one of the closest stars to Sol. There had been a dozen expeditions over the years, none of which had found anything worth exploiting, but the Confederation had been given the system in the peace negotiations following the Interplanetary War. That meant a presence of some sort, and the requirement for a ship to wave the flag every few years. This time, his Thunderchild had drawn the short straw. As usual, there was a complication. In the wake of the attempted Separatist mutiny on Alamo, hundreds of people had disappeared, many of them in prominent positions. Their goal had been to shatter the fragile Triplanetary Confederation, tear it asunder, and they’d come close to accomplishing it. Now they were preparing to dig in, prepare for an extended campaign, and Intelligence had suggested that this backwater was one of their enclaves. He hadn’t quite believed it, had been about to give up and go home, but now they evidently had decided to make their move. Someone smart was commanding the enemy flotilla. That was obvious. Probably someone he knew. He looked down at his jacket, the unfamiliar cut and colour still strange, even after six months. He’d spent his career in the Martian Space Service, had served on this very ship during the  last years of the War. Now he’d jumped across to the new fleet to get the command he had always craved, and his first combat mission was against people who until recently had worn the same uniform as him. Traitors. He had to remember that. They’d made their choice, and so had he. The double doors opened, and he stepped onto the bridge, Jack rising from the command chair at his approach, moving over to tactical. The helmsman, a young rookie fresh from training, turned as he took his seat, her face pale, eyes uncertain. “Relax, Midshipman,” he said, trying to muster his most reassuring voice. “We outgun them, outman them, and you’re going to outfly them.” “Aye, sir,” she replied. The doors opened again, and the svelte form of Senior Lieutenant McGuire, his Exec, stepped onto the deck, immediately moving to the sensor station. A tactical view snapped onto the display before Winter could order it, his hyper-efficient deputy predicting his requests as usual. This would be space combat at its simplest, rawest. The two Frigates had managed to use the moon as cover, but they were well away from it now, moving on an intercept course designed to make it difficult for Thunderchild to engage both targets at once. Not a problem; that wouldn’t be his plan anyway. No fancy tactics today, just a straight-up battle between two forces, winner take all. Data flooded into his console, streaming in from the sensor pickups, and he looked over the two ships, trying to work out which to attack, knowing that he had only seconds to make the decision. He’d be giving one of them a free run, and had to make sure he picked the right target. Jack looked up from his console, fingers poised for action. “Ninety seconds to firing range, skipper,” the veteran said. “Go for Target Beta,” Winter replied. “The usual mix. Weapons, sensors, engines. I want them disabled. We’re going to have a lot of questions for them.” Turning to the rear, he asked, “Communications, has there been any response to our hails? Anything at all?” “Not a thing, sir,” the young technician replied, shaking her head in disgust. “I know they can hear us, but they aren’t talking today. I guess they want a battle.” “Their choice,” her counterpart at the sensor station replied. “We’ll take ‘em.”

CORE RULEBOOK 78

Section 6: The Realities of Deep Space “Don’t get cocky, Spaceman,” Winter chided. “All decks are cleared for action, sir,” McGuire said, turning to him. “All hands at their posts, Espatier forces prepared to repel boards, missiles on standby for launch.” Looking up at the display, Winter nodded, and said, “Inform Lieutenant Malone that he’ll have to watch our backs while we take out Target Beta. Defensive formation only.” With a smile, he added, “And with that in mind, squadron scramble.” —  Malone sprinted across the hangar deck, one of the technicians tossing him a helmet as he raced for his Fighter, scrambling up the ladder to slide into the cockpit. On either side, the other two members of his flight followed, their ships already sliding forward, guided into position over the elevator airlocks. He snapped his restraints into position, waving off the leader of the deck gang as he completed the pre-flight sequence, preparing his ship for launch. “McGuire to Malone,” the clipped voice of the ship’s Executive Officer said. “You’re going to be covering Thunderchild while we make our attack run on Target Beta. Concentrate on Target Alpha, defensive fire only. You’ve got to prevent any missiles getting through. If you get a chance, take it, but the defence of this ship is your absolute priority. Is that understood?” “Roger that, Lieutenant. We’ve got you covered.” “I hope so. Bridge out.” Tapping a control, Malone said, “Leader to Flight. Follow my lead, and watch out for surprises. There’s no evidence that the enemy has Fighters, but that doesn’t mean they’re helpless, and they’ll throw everything they have at you. I know it’s your first fight, but as long as you remember your training and trust your instincts, I give you my word that it won’t be your last. Keep your eyes open. Leader out.” With a loud crack, the elevator airlock began to cycle. Malone winced at the grinding noise from the mechanism, another urgent maintenance issue that the crew was scrambling to keep up with. Thunderchild had always had a reputation of being a shipyard queen, ever since her launch, and she was living up to that reputation today. After a moment, the lower hatch slid open, and the Fighter dropped away, tossed clear of the ship by the ship’s rotation, the force that provided the artificial gravity that kept everyone on their feet. The bridge had already prepared their course plot, and he tapped a control to confirm, relaxing in his couch as the force of acceleration pressed back upon him, hurling his Fighter into the void. His two wingmen followed ten seconds later, forming a lopsided arrowhead as they struggled to move into formation, while he brought up his tactical display, planning the attack. If all went well, he wouldn’t have to lift a finger, the entire strike would be operated by the computers. Somehow, it never worked out that way, which was the reason that human beings still sat in these cockpits, generations after so-called experts had predicted that they would be replaced by automated systems and remote-control servos. The enemy ships were familiar enough, the same model the Lunar Republic had been producing for decades, designed theoretically as a civilian craft, but also with plenty of easy options for militarisation. More than a few megacorporations operated them, nominally as armoured Transports, and they’d fallen into the hands of any number of unscrupulous groups over the years, sometimes second- or third-hand. He’d served briefly on one himself, testing weapons systems for the Titan Militia. These were a fairly typical design. Four missile tubes, conventional enough, and the usual defensive firewalls. They had a good sysop, though. A couple of warning lights were already flickering, alerting him of an attempt to hack his systems. He glanced across at the sensor display, cursing as he saw one of his wingmen moving forward, breaking formation, as though determined to win a non-existent race to their goal. “Leader to Falcon Three,” he said. “Keep behind me. We’re not in a hurry. Our job doesn’t begin until the enemy launches their missiles. Out.” Of course, the command crew of Target Alpha knew that just as well as he did. While his rogue pilot started to fall back, he’d already burned his engines hot enough to jeopardise his intercept. At any second, four new contacts would appear on the screen, and he had to be ready to face them head-on. Then it happened, just as he’d expected. “Threat warning!” he yelled, tapping a control to launch his missiles, two dotted lines racing across the sensor display as his Fighter rocked back, sending his payload racing towards their distant target. His wingmen matched his attack, Falcon Three a second later than his comrade, and he dived to the side, changing course to clear the battlespace. He had two missiles to contribute to the fight. Now that they were launched, there was nothing else he could do except watch and wait. He took a quick glance at his medium-ranged sensors, saw Thunderchild bearing down upon its target. They had to be in a position to launch a devastating attack with their first try, or risk being caught in a devastating pincer movement. At least he’d managed to throw six missiles into the air to counter the enemy’s four. Even if two of them were well behind the others, likely out of the battle altogether. Another man might have held a reserve, opted to launch a strike of his own, but Malone knew better. The mothership would be welcome to the kill. He just wanted to make sure he had somewhere to land when the battle was over. As the missiles raced to mutual destruction, he allowed a smile of satisfaction to cross his face, which was dashed as a red light winked on. The four contacts had become eight, each fissioning into two, decoys separating from the main body of the missile to fool the incoming warheads. With seconds to spare, there was no way to determine which was which, and he had to trust his instincts, assuming control of all six of the flight’s missiles with the tap of a button and assigning them to targets.

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part 1: the universe Seconds later, twelve contacts winked out, leaving only two on the screen. One of them quickly ceased acceleration, a decoy doomed to spiral through space forever. The other didn’t, locked onto Thunderchild. “Leader to Thunderchild Actual,” he said with a sigh. “One of them got through our screen. Impact in ninety seconds. Returning to base.” —  Lieutenant Jack Potter looked at his tactical controls, his fingers dancing nimbly across the controls. The sensor display showed the approaching missile, and he quickly set up a defensive firing solution, ready to yield one of his missiles to block the incoming threat. It would be a difficult intercept, though, far from certain, and with a heavy heart, he turned to Winter, shaking his head. “I recommend we take the hit, sir. Engineering won’t like it...” “You’re a master of understatement,” Winter replied. “I think our missiles will be better served slamming into the enemy hull, skipper. And I further recommend that we launch our missiles as soon as possible. If they try that trick again, I want as much time as possible to work out what we have to kill.” “Agreed,” Winter said. “Weapons status?” “All tubes ready to fire, offensive/defensive firing solution locked into the targeting computers. Laser charged and ready.” Turning to the helm, he said, “Midshipman, I’ll want a line-of-sight on their engines as soon as we enter range. Then you can resume random walk.” “Aye, sir,” the petrified young officer replied. Jack glanced at Winter for a second, who nodded in reply, and saw the familiar flicker of the helm override appearing on his old friend’s command display. A rookie with no combat experience had no business being at the helm of a starship, and they both knew it. However, Thunderchild had been forced to launch with less than three-quarters of its recommended crew complement, the planetary services being reluctant to yield any of their precious cadre of battle-trained personnel. He couldn’t complain. That had been his ticket back into the military, after the Martian Space Service had forced him out six years ago following a too-public dispute with his commanding officer. He’d been right, and his Captain’s career had come to an abrupt end, but that hadn’t saved his rank. It had been a choice between permanent desk duty and early retirement, and he’d chosen the latter. And instantly regretted it. The Triplanetary Fleet had been his last chance, especially when his old Academy roommate had found him in the bar that had become his permanent home-away-from-home and told him that he was getting a ship of his own. Six months later, he was out here, fighting his first battle in ten years, ready to unleash a storm of destruction on the enemy ship. He had to get this right on the first try. They’d launch all four missiles against him, and he could assume that he’d lose four of his in response. Two missiles and a laser pulse would have to do the job, at least hold them for long enough to get a second salvo into the air. Schematics flashed onto his screen as he fine-tuned the missile guidance, sending brief orders to the helm to provide the young officer with enough information to guide Thunderchild onto the right course. “Five seconds,” he said, fingers on the controls, ready to engage the manual override if the computers failed, constantly making last-second adjustments as the two ships closed on each other. On cue, the midshipman guided the ship around, the nose swinging into position to line up with the enemy vessel, and for a brief instant, the two ships were connected by a beam of laser light. A second later, Thunderchild rocked back as six missiles raced from its tubes, sliding smoothly onto their planned trajectory towards the enemy ship. Damage projections flickered onto the screen, and a smile crept across Jack’s face as he scanned the litany of desperation. The enemy’s engines were crippled by the precision burst, acceleration fading to nothing as the ship began to spin lazily, out of control. Four more targets appeared on the sensor display, and the duel could truly begin as the two Tactical Officers faced off against each other. Jack had six missiles at his disposal; his opponent only had four. Gentle adjustments guided them into a cluster, sending them into an attack pattern that preserved his options. He’d watched the Fighter attack, trying to gain a sense of his enemy’s tactics, and the same strategy was at work here. At some point, the missiles would fracture. Unless he could guide his salvo into position first. “Laser recharge cycle initiated,” he said. “We ought to get another shot.” “Negative,” the Flight Engineer replied. “We’ve got to retract the radiators before that missile hits us.” “Agreed,” Winter said. Inwardly, Jack cursed, his greatest weapon taken from him. The auto-loaders were assembling the next salvo in the tubes, hastily snapping modules together, but it was touch-and-go whether they would be ready in time, even with the enemy ship’s acceleration cut. His eyes narrowed, and he carefully worked with the missiles he had, unknowingly holding his breath as the leading warheads drove to intercept those of the enemy. Four flashes lit the screen. With a satisfied grin, he guided the remaining two missiles towards their targets, carefully compensating for the rotation of the enemy ship, placing them where they could do most good, right into their launch tubes. Two more explosions rippled across the enemy vessel, and he looked over the damage projections, his fingers sliding across the monitor screen as he focused on the impact sites.

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Section 6: The Realities of Deep Space “Enemy has no significant propulsion or weapons capability, Captain,” he reported. “They’re out of the fight, sir. Drifting in space. I don’t think they can present any further threat to us.” “Very good,” Winter said. “What about the incoming missile?” “Thirty seconds before I can fire again, skipper. It’ll be on us right around then. Looks like they’re trying for our hangar deck.” Turning to him, he added, “Buying time to make repairs, stop us boarding them after the battle.” “Begin evasive rotation,” Winter ordered. “Can you do anything to speed up the assemblers, Lieutenant?” “Not a thing, sir. I’ve already bypassed most of the safety checks.” “Do what you can.” Jack complied, his whole focus on the launch tubes. One missile, even with a couple of seconds to spare, would detonate the incoming warhead safely clear of Thunderchild’s hull. If he’d just had a little more time, he might have made it. He didn’t. —  Katya Romanova raced towards the predicted impact site of the missile, medical kit in hand, while warning alarms screamed down the corridor. Fear gripped her stomach as she sprinted along the corridor, following the rest of the damage control team, but she knew that anyone unfortunate enough to be in the area being targeted would be in urgent need of help. They couldn’t wait even a second. She glanced at one of the status panels as she turned a corner, almost running into a fleeing maintenance technician, and watched as the final seconds ticked away to impact. An angry whine echoed from the hull as the missile slammed into position, sending her and the others falling to the floor from the abrupt course change, the release of atmosphere from pressurised compartments hurling them to the side. She was first to her feet, racing to the monitor, her fingers skimming across the touchscreen to work out the location of the impact. “One deck up,” she said. “External sensor control. Two compartments have lost pressure.” She looked at the rest of the crew, and said, “Come on.” Pressure loss meant casualties. Those were occupied areas, some of the few close to the outer hull that had to be manned even during a battle. Everyone on the ship knew the risks they were running, but that didn’t make it any better, any easier. She pulled out a maintenance hatch, looking up the darkened shaft, and cursed. The emergency lights hadn’t come on. Probably more damage from the impact. Swinging onto the ladder, she started to climb, clipping the medical kit to her belt where it bounced back and forth, rattling between the wall and her leg. Her back touched the wall, and she winced. It was cold. Space cold. Vacuum had seeped into the space between the decks. By now, the internal bulkheads would have locked down, sealing off the damaged area, but it was unnerving to realise that she only had a few millimetres of metal between her and instant death. She glanced down at the others, wondering whether she should tell them, but decided it was information they didn’t need to know, not at this stage. They were under enough pressure as it was. She continued to climb, hugging the ladder as close as she could, finally kicking the hatch to the deck above open with her foot, sliding smoothly through the hatch.  She entered a scene of devastation and destruction: the strange tang in the air was a testament to a failing life support system, and there was debris scattered on the deck. She heard a groaning noise from the far end of the corridor and raced towards it, turning a corner to see a skin-blackened man lying on the deck, just on the right side of the emergency bulkhead. He’d managed to get out in time to avoid being hurled out into space, but not before suffering the initial effects of the blast. “My God,” her assistant, Sylvester, said, as she pulled out a diagnostic scanner. “Burns over most of his body, damage to lungs, three broken ribs, broken shoulder.” She shook her head, and she said, “Get a stretcher.” “How are we going to get him out of here?” her assistant asked. “We’ll never get him down the maintenance shafts.” The man looked up, a brief flicker of hope showing through the pain, and Romanova replied with what she hoped was a reassuring smile before injecting the strongest painkiller she had into his system. The figure slumping to the deck as consciousness fled from his body. She turned to the engineers behind him, who were beginning to work on isolating the damaged systems, and gestured at the elevator. “How long?” she asked. “Not a hope,” one replied. “Too much damage to the local distribution network. We’ve had brownouts halfway across the ship. The bastards really knew what they were doing. I’ve never seen one shot do quite this much damage.” “He’s got about thirty minutes, maybe less, if we don’t get him to Sickbay. There’s only so much I can do for him with my medical kit. He needs proper attention.” Stepping over to her, the veteran technician replied, “There’s nothing I can do, Spec. He’s had it.” Looking down at the mercifully slumbering casualty, he added, “Perhaps it’s just as well. I don’t think….” She grabbed the recalcitrant engineer by the collar, dragging him down towards her, and said, “Perhaps I didn’t make myself clear. This man dies in thirty minutes. We get him to sickbay, he lives. I won’t lecture you about engineering if you

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part 1: the universe don’t lecture me about medicine, but I’ve got one diagnosis for you. If he dies, so do you, as painfully as I can. Do I make myself clear?” “Now wait a damned minute...” “Drag me up on charges if you want, but later. Right now you have a job to do. Get that elevator working, no matter what else it takes. You hear me?” “There’s too much damage,” he protested. “Even the relay systems have failed. We’re only fighting fires up here, and I’m not even sure I’m only speaking metaphorically.” “Then call the Systems Officer, and get him up here right now.” “I can’t...” “Fine,” she said, snatching the communicator from the man’s belt. “Specialist Romanova to Engineering. I need to speak to the Systems Officer on the double. I’ve got a casualty up here, and if I don’t get priority on repairs, he’s going to die.” She peered up at the status panel, and added, “Looks like the same brownout’s taken out half a dozen sensor pickups. You can kill two birds with one stone if you move right now.” She looked up, smiled, then said, “He’s on his way. Better update your resume, mister. I’d say you’ll shortly be looking for a new line of work.” — Lights flickered across the deck as Lieutenant Forbes, Thunderchild’s Systems Officer, made his way towards the impact area. He turned to his deputy, the grizzled Chief Jones, and shook his head, gesturing to the spacesuit locker. As the two of them donned the bulky outfits, he curtly commanded the nearest monitor to display an up-to-date damage report. The missile had missed hangar deck by a matter of yards, quick work from the helmsman had turned the ship in an attempt to take the impact on a non-critical system. He’d failed. The warhead had been carefully designed to do as much damage as possible, a shaped charge that ripped through three decks and tore the guts out of the power distribution network on the starboard sensor relays. With one good shot, Thunderchild had been blinded, forced to rely on backup systems that had never been designed for the stresses of combat. He slid on his helmet, a cascade of green lights running down his heads-up display as the systems booted up, then turned to Jones, running a quick visual inspection of her suit, while she did the same to him. “All good, sir,” she said. “Likewise,” he replied, turning to the airlock. He quickly glanced behind him, making sure that nobody had ventured into the corridor, then tugged a stiff lever, locking it into position and sealing the emergency hatch behind them. Clipping a safety line into position, he glanced at Jones, nodded, then released the hatch in front of them. The double doors slid free, the release of atmosphere sending the two of them tumbling forward, slamming into the walls as the lines reached their longest extent. “There’s the breach,” Jones said, and Forbes winced. Half the ceiling had been caved in, and blackened fibre-optic cables tangled through the corridor. His quick release of atmosphere had forced the bulk of the debris through the gap, clearing a space for them to work, and he took a careful step forward, inching his way across the floor, looking up at the stars visible through the breach. The ship was still fighting a battle. Tactical information flooded into his display, ready to alert him in a second of a potential course change. It was less clear what he could do about it; should Thunderchild need to make a rapid trajectory shift, the two of them wouldn’t have a chance. He pulled out a diagnostic datapad, running it over the damaged systems, wincing at the readout. “There’s something wrong, sir,” Jones said. Forbes looked at her in disbelief. “You’ve only just noticed?” he replied. “No, I mean something else. Look at the blast pattern. That explosion was outward, not inward.” Turning to him, she added, “This wasn’t just the missile. This was sabotage. Someone rigged this area to explode.” “I don’t see any sign of charges...” She moved across to the life-support panel, and her eyes widened as she replied, “Look at this. Just before impact, someone rigged a spike in the local air pressure. Five hundred atmospheres. We’d have been damaged no matter what happened, but combined with the impact...” “Hey, check the composition,” Forbes added. “Hydrogen instead of nitrogen. The whole deck was a bomb ready to go off.” He turned to her, and said, “Lock this down. We’ve got to get the sensors back online.” Reaching for a control, he said, “Forbes to Actual.” Static filled his helmet, and he continued, “Forbes to Actual. Come in.” “Lieutenant!” Jones yelled, as the two of them were tossed down the corridor again, tumbling dangerously towards the hull breach by the force of escaping atmosphere. Forbes turned, kicking on his suit jets, and saw a figure standing at the end of the corridor, rifle in hand. Diving to the floor, he reached the cover of a toppled storage cabinet as the first bullets raced through the air. “Forbes to Actual,” he said, uselessly, knowing that the saboteur had knocked out the local communications relay. He looked up at the saboteur, their helmet rendered opaque to prevent identification. He raised his datapad again, scanning for the

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Section 6: The Realities of Deep Space serial number, and smiled. The saboteur had simply taken the first suit available. No modifications. As a second bullet slammed into the deck behind him, their would-be murderer advancing towards them, he brought up a wireless interface on his sleeve, entering his security override to gain access to the saboteur’s suit. For a brief second, panic flooded his mind as he struggled to make contact, but finally, with a reassuring green light, he was in. He had no time for subtlety. First, he turned off the suit thermostat, resetting the emergency controls to take the environment down to fifty below zero. For good measure, he cut the oxygen level by a quarter, and he saw the figure lurching from side to side, struggling to advance, desperately fighting with his controls in a futile attempt to repair the damage Forbes had caused. It was a waste of time, Forbes’ control of the suit was too powerful to overcome, and by the fifth step, it was all over, the figure crashing to the deck. “What the hell did you do?” Jones asked, rising to her feet. “I just taught the bastard that you never mess with an engineer on his own turf,” he replied with a smile. As he moved forward to snatch the rifle from the grip of the unconscious figure, he turned to her, and said, “You deal with the override. And hurry. This has all the signs of a coordinated assault.” He hurried towards the relay, bringing it back online with the touch of a button, then plugged his suit directly into the network, throwing a layer of encryption into the transmission. “Forbes to Actual. Put on a headset, skipper. This isn’t for everyone.” — Harry Moltz looked up at the bank of monitors on the wall, a hunter’s grin on his face as he sliced his way through Thunderchild’s systems. Eight months ago, he’d been hacking into government networks from his grandfather’s apartment; today, they were paying him to do it, had given him a uniform to wear and access to the finest equipment and software money could buy. Of course, the only alternative he’d been given was to serve twenty months in a detention facility on Titan. If the judge hadn’t been an old war buddy of his grandfather… His fingers danced across the controls as he fed programs into the computer, hacking his way through the firewalls he’d helped design, the latest generation of defences. Most starships with a half-decent team made their own individual modifications to the systems, as much as a matter of personal pride as anything else. He grinned as he recalled the reason he’d lost his shore leave during their last layover. Watching Admiral Green’s Shuttle dance around the sky had been more than worth it, and it wasn’t his fault that his aide was an incompetent buffoon. Luckily, the Admiral had seen the funny side. Though if he hadn’t, he wouldn’t be sitting here, deep in the bowels of a starship under attack by enemies both within and without. The Captain had given him a glorious assignment, to hack deep into Thunderchild’s systems and find the relay being used by the saboteur to transmit tactical information to the enemy. They had to have some sort of communications link-up, buried somewhere deep inside. Flicking a switch, he brought up the profile of the man Lieutenant Forbes had captured. Joe Weissman, a life support technician. At least, that’s what the records said, though he’d bet his next month’s pay that there was a lot more to the man than that. For a second, he dismissed the records, then frowned. Weissman would have focused on areas he was able to access. Certainly he’d managed an innovative trick with sabotage through overpressure. For good reason, the life support systems were among the best-protected parts of the ship, only rivalled by the tactical controls and the reactor. During the War, there had been a couple of instances, on both sides, of ships being captured when a hacker had managed to suborn life support systems. The Confederation had captured a hundred and nine crewmen on the misnamed Triumphant that way. The United Nations, on the other hand, had retrieved eighty-two corpses. Their opponent had always had a lower regard for the well-being of the defeated. That level of security had flaws of its own. First, he danced through using his own access, and ran a two-second diagnostic that showed nothing of significance, nothing to report. Only the single override that he already knew about, the alternation that had led to the rupture in the hull. Dismissing the obvious, he moved to the next step, and checked the monitoring software itself. He almost missed it, but at the second firewall, he found it. A minor coding change. At first inspection, all it did was add an additional telemetry track. There was no ability to alter anything, and simply broadcasting the current life support status of the ship to the enemy didn’t seem to be of any tactical use. Except that it was always possible to change the settings of specific areas, even without full access. Weissman had worked on the guts of the system itself, manually overriding the targeted area. Glancing at the thermostat, it hit him. Almost any aspect of the local environment could be altered within reasonable limits. Temperature, humidity, pressure. Enough information to send some sort of signal to the enemy ship, one based on a prearranged code. The problem was that he had no way of cracking it. Except, perhaps, he did. His eyes locked on the monitor, he brought up a record of every alternation made to the ship’s internal systems over the course of the battle, looking for anomalies, then matching them to the tactical records of the unfolding fight. Instantly, he saw a match. Lower hydroponics, an area currently unoccupied, reported a ten percent jump in humidity and a three degree temperature drop when the Fighter squadron had been called to scramble. Then another, in Storage Three, a nine degree temperature rise just as the first missile salvo launched. In all, he had a dozen data points to play with, but any hope of unscrambling the code being used would be futile. About

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part 1: the universe the best he could do was duplicate the responses that had already been used, hoping that it would fool them. Quickly, he rattled out a list of life support alterations, based primarily on guesswork, then belatedly reached across to a second series of controls, locking out any further changes made from anywhere other than his cubbyhole. Comfort could wait until after the battle. He frowned, something nagging at his mind, then implemented a few minor changes, enough to appear to be part of the normal routine. If no adjustments at all were made, then the odds were that someone on the other ship would realise they’d been found out, assuming they hadn’t already. “Moltz to Bridge,” he said, a smile on his face. “I think I’ve found what you’ve been looking for. Just let me know what you want me to tell them, and I’ll have those bastards dancing to our tune.” “Great work, Spaceman,” Winter replied. “Great work. Stand by for instructions. Out.” Leaning back on his chair, Moltz rested his feet up on the console, a beaming smile on his face as he waited for new orders. The whole hack had taken less than forty seconds. — “Coming around,” Midshipman Tanaka said, looking up at the tactical display, his hands gently working Thunderchild’s helm, easing her onto the Captain’s requested course. He caught a glimpse from Lieutenant Potter, and tried to ignore it. Everyone else on the bridge was a veteran, with years of experience in their duties. Everyone except him. Three months ago, he’d graduated third in his class at the Academy, and had been one of the lucky few to receive a starship assignment, putting him on the fast-track to better things. Any arrogance he might have possessed had been wiped away in a matter of moments as soon as he had arrived on board. Despite thousands of hours in the simulator, his first time at Thunderchild’s helm had been a near-disaster, the ship careening dangerously close to the docking frame, no matter what adjustments he’d made. It was only later that he found out that it was nothing but a test, one that he’d failed. The ship had never been in danger, false reports were fed to the sensors to trick him, his controls locked out to prevent any risk of him causing actual harm. The correct decision would have been to hold position, wait for repairs. Reportedly, Captain Winter had ascertained that he was being tricked when in the same position, and had turned the trick back on his commanding officer. “Enemy ship is closing on us,” Potter said. “Coming into attack range. We’re ready for the surprise package on your mark.” “Hold it for a few seconds longer, Lieutenant,” Winter ordered. He turned to the young helmsman, and said, “When you get the word, I want this ship to dance, Midshipman. That laser pulse has to be precisely on target if we’re going to make this work.” “Aye, sir,” he replied, his eyes locked on his controls. He struggled to hold attitude, the hull breach still unpredictably venting atmosphere into space, throwing the ship off-trajectory. He played one thruster against another, struggling to keep the ship on target, trying to guide it on the projected course. Every time he lost so much as a quarter of a degree, he felt the iron gaze of Captain Winter on his neck, and his face reddened. Flying a ship was a young man’s job. It required quick reactions, nimble reflexes. The Fleet, in its wisdom, gave the job to junior officers on the basis that it was a fast way to gain experience, knowing that their primary job was to obey and implement the orders of the Captain. There was no room for individual thought or personal flair at the helm of a starship, not if the crew hoped to survive a battle. On his sensor display, Tanaka saw Target Alpha, ranging towards him, closing to intercept. Beyond it, he had three more contacts, and for a brief second, he started to turn to report the unknown targets to the Captain, before realising at the last second that it was the Fighter wing they’d launched earlier. He breathed a quick sigh of relief, counting himself lucky to have caught his mistake before embarrassing himself in front of the bridge. As he turned back to the helm, he saw Winter winking at him. He’d noticed. Cursing inwardly, Tanaka worked the thrusters, keeping Thunderchild on course, trying not to telegraph his attack pattern. His counterpart on Target Alpha was swinging wildly around, onward trajectory sliding unpredictably through space. Tanaka envied their talent, knowing that he had to find a way to beat them, that the survival of everyone on Thunderchild was dependent upon him triumphing over his adversary. “Fifteen seconds to attack range. Helm, I’m going to need a line-of-sight on their engines in twenty-four,” Winter said. “Got that? Twenty-four, mark.” “Mark and copy,” Tanaka replied, setting up the manoeuvre with a flurry of commands to the navigation computer. He’d trained for this, had spent thousands of hours in simulators, but nothing had prepared him for this moment, for the cold reality of combat. He tapped the thruster controls again, the atmosphere leak still attempting to force him off course, as another compartment was exposed to space and started venting precious oxygen. The computer couldn’t predict that, couldn’t quickly counteract it, and it was all down to his second-by-second course adjustments. One more unexpected leak as they closed on firing time, and they’d miss. He tried unsuccessfully to put that thought out of his mind. “Five seconds to firing range,” Potter reported. “Slow and steady, helm,” Winter added. “Nice and gentle.” “Aye, sir,” Tanaka replied, preparing his course change. Up ahead, he saw the enemy ship moving into position, ready to launch its attack. As it entered range, Target Alpha abruptly slid to the right, as though dodging an expected laser pulse,

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Section 6: The Realities of Deep Space and he struggled to compensate, changing his angle of trajectory to line the ship on target. He managed it with a quarter of a second to go, and Thunderchild’s nose slid through space, a beam of laser energy burning into the rear of the ship, radiators glowing red as heat flooded through them. “On the nose!” Potter said, waving a fist in the air. “Nice flying, Midshipman! Launching missiles salvo, six in the air. No sign of a counter-attack.” “Communications,” Winter ordered, “Offer them a chance to surrender, and inform them that I will personally guarantee them a fair trial. Not all of them might know...” “Energy spike!” the sensor technician yelled, and a brief flash filled the screen. Silence reigned on the bridge as the technician turned to Winter, and said, “They’re gone, sir. Nothing but debris, no sign of escape pods or Shuttles. I guess someone over there didn’t want his crew answering our questions. We didn’t hit them that hard.” With a sigh, Winter relaxed in his chair, and said, “Proceed to standby alert. Let’s get some Shuttles up to Target Beta before they can do the same. Maybe we knocked out their self-destruct. Volunteers only.” Turning to Tanaka, he said, “Good job, Midshipman.” Tanaka nodded, looking up at the display, watching as the viewscreen showed the new targets, the battered remnants of a ship that seconds ago had held sixty human beings. Sixty men and women, whom he had murdered. Bile rose in his throat, and he glanced desperately at the Captain, who nodded. “Permission granted, Midshipman. On your way.” He barely made it to the toilet in time. — “Note commendations for Lieutenant Potter, Lieutenant Forbes, Spaceman Moltz and Midshipman Tanaka,” Winter said. “Details to follow in appendix. Close After-Action Report, Nine-One-Six-Three-Five.” He snapped a control, and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his forehead, skimming over the reports from the boarding party. Target Beta had almost been worse than Target Alpha. At least the death over there had been clean, quick; on the other ship, the life support systems had been deactivated, leaving the crew to die from slow suffocation, the computer systems purged even beyond his hacker’s ability to retrieve. Three men dead on Thunderchild, more than a hundred on the two enemy ships, and it all added up to next to nothing. They’d defeated the enemy threat in this system, at least for the present, but they were no nearer any understanding of the plan behind the attack, the goals of the enemy. One thing he did know. Frigates were incapable of travelling from one star to another without a tender. They had another ship out there, probably more, a secret base perhaps at some unexplored star. He looked at the astrographic projections, shaking his head. There were dozens of possibilities, and a detailed search of each would take a fleet months, maybe years, assuming the Admiralty could ever be convinced to throw sufficient resources into the hunt. Taking a sip of coffee, he looked over his report on Tanaka. He’d have to give him some points for making it to the bathroom in time; he hadn’t been so quick-thinking after his first time in the hot seat, and his commanding officer had assigned him two weeks of maintenance duty as a punishment. Nobody went through his first battle unscathed, but Tanaka had performed well, followed his orders quickly and without hesitation, and even handled the effect of the atmosphere leak correctly. Thunderchild would be heading home in a couple of months, and he had a feeling that the young man would be receiving his commission shortly thereafter. He made a mental note to contact Personnel, see if there was any way he could hold onto him. Good officers were hard to come by, these days. He’d had a difficult time putting his crew together for this mission. Damage reports, casualty reports, after-action reports. A hundred different pieces of paperwork, and all of it destined to be scrutinised by petty bureaucrats back home. The harsh reality of space adventure was that everything had to be carefully filed away and accounted for once the battle was won. He’d dreamed about flying into space when he was a kid, even as he struggled to survive on the harsh streets of Port Lowell. Sometimes he still had nightmares that took him back there, back to the gangs and petty crime of his youth, before the Interplanetary War had bought him his ticket to the stars. Taking a deep breath, he rose from his seat, walking over to the viewport, looking out at the stars beyond, old friends he’d known for decades, ever since his first voyage into space as a raw cadet. He’d visited a few of them, set foot on worlds dozens of light years from home, but he’d still barely scratched the surface of the infinity that rolled out before him. T he Confederation had spent ten years licking its wounds after the war, repairing infrastructure, rebuilding all that had been lost, putting the pieces back together. Ten years of peace, and eight years of war before it – and four years of war in all but name, the string of insurgencies and conflicts that had led up to the official declaration of independence. Two decades wasted. Humanity was on the brink of the greatest adventure of all time, expeditions to stars fifty light years distant. Expeditions that ships like his Thunderchild had been designed to pioneer, before the outbreak of war had forced them to convert to their current military role. There was a knock on the door, and he looked up to see Potter walking into the room, datapad in hand, a smile on his face as he made his way over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder as the two old friends looked out at the beckoning stars. “Still got the bug, huh,” Potter said. “You are the Captain, remember. If you ordered us to head out into infinity, we couldn’t stop you.”

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part 1: the universe “I suspect Commodore Tramiel would have some pretty harsh words for me when we got home, though,” he replied. “Anything new?” “Maybe,” he said with a thin smile. “You might want to add an extra commendation to your list. Spaceman Sanders went over to Target Beta with the boarding party, and she came up with something that the rest of us missed. The bastards might have been able to wipe their computers, but they couldn’t get rid of all the evidence. Turns out that one of the crew of that ship was an amateur geologist, with an interesting collection of samples from all the worlds he’d visited.” Raising an eyebrow, Winter replied, “You’re telling me that...” “That she found the collection, and brought the samples back to the lab for analysis, and I have the report right here in my hand. Most of them were easily identified: Mars, Callisto, Titan, et triple cetera, but there was one that took a lot more study to learn.” Waving his datapad in the air, he said, “Try Sutter’s World.” “Sutter’s? That’s a freeport, isn’t it? Out on the frontier.” His eyes widened, and he continued, “With connections to the United Nations – but one of our old fuelling stops during the War.” Nodding, Potter replied, “And an orbital dock designed to handle Triplanetary shipping. Out of the way enough that our ships don’t go out there that often, but I found a notation of a few recent visits by some interesting characters. Midshipman Tanaka has the course, and we’re clear to proceed on your command.” “Then by all means, Jack, let’s make the magic happen.” The hunt was on again.

Xenoarchaeologist Maggie hated spacesuits. Hated them with a passion. None of this should be necessary. She ought to be sitting in a nice pressurised cabin right now, peering at monitors and displays, operating remote drones, rather than crawling around the outside of a barren asteroid, camera in one hand, sensor in another, while one of the technicians gently guided her towards the site. Professor Fitzroy preferred the personal touch, apparently. One more thing to loathe about the miserable old bastard. She looked up and out at the dull brown dwarf they were orbiting, then at the burned out world below them. Finally, she spotted the single light of the Transport that had brought them here, to this system, at extortionate expense. They were following up an old report from a cut-rate prospecting company, suggesting that there were traces of artificial alloys here in the rocks, where no human had ever been before. How Fitzroy had managed to get the funding for this expedition was a mystery to her, with most of the expedition suggesting that he was planning to sell anything they found to a Belt syndicate. She didn’t buy it; for all his many, many sins, he’d never commit the crime of withholding access to alien relics from the researchers back home. A quick burst of her thruster took her around a large rock, and in that instant, all of her doubts melted away. There was something here. A shaft, carved out of the rock, smooth lines obviously worked by some machinery, delving deep into the heart of the asteroid, out of the range of her suit lights. Fitzroy was hovering over the entrance, camera in hand, recording every detail of the discovery. “Now you see why I wanted you to come out here in person,” he said. “I don’t want to risk a drone down there. Too much risk of losing signal if it’s as deep as it looks, and I will not have this site ruined by a malfunctioning robot. I want you to take the lead.” She frowned, the replied, “Surely, Professor...” “This is a job for someone young, with quick reactions and better eyesight than I have. Don’t worry, I’ll be tracking you all the way, and if you run into any trouble, I’ll come down and get you. There shouldn’t be any appreciable gravity down there, so your suit jets will be able to handle it. Have you got all the equipment I asked you to take?” “Yes, but...” “Then there is no sense wasting any more time.” With a sigh, she turned to the shaft, turning her suit lights to maximum and clipping the camera into position on her chest. Reaching to her arm, she pulled down her fine thruster controls, her heads-up display bringing a scan of the local area into view. Before she began her descent, she adjusted her throttles to minimum, not wanting to risk damaging any surface details. “Scans show you’ve got about a quarter-mile drop until you reach the bottom,” Fitzroy said. “Good luck.” “Yeah,” she replied, firing a quick burst of her suit jets. She knew why she was going first. He didn’t want to take any of the risks of this mission, he was content with just the glory. What he didn’t know was that she had a publishing deal with Transgalactic, and that her boyfriend was a contract lawyer who had poked half a dozen holes in her non-disclosure agreement before they’d left Mars. She reached into a pocket, pulling out a datarod and stabbing it into position, ready to copy all of the information she harvested for herself. It felt strange to be falling into a cave, ever so slowly, gravity barely exerting any influence on her at all as she continued her descent. She flashed her lights on the walls, no features making themselves known, which was strange enough, in itself. Tapping a thruster, she risked a little more speed, impatient to reach the bottom.

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Section 6: The Realities of Deep Space “Definitely old,” Fitzroy said. “I’m looking at some of the surface rocks, and I think I can find the residue from when the place was tunneled out. I’ve taken some samples for analysis, but first estimates have this as ten thousand years old. A wink of an eye in cosmic terms. We must have just missed whoever built the place.” “Assuming they aren’t still out there somewhere,” she replied. “Approaching the half-way point now, still descending.” She could just make something out at the bottom, her suit sensors struggling to interpret the data. There was a strange shadow, cast in her helmet lights, and as she gently cruised to the bottom of the shaft, she realised they had hit the jackpot. It was a spacesuit, but no design she was familiar with. There were no limbs, only a long ovoid with a transparent patch on top, a series of thrusters all around it. Carefully, tentatively, she reached out for it, and caught sight of a shape inside. A body. And not human. The Holy Grail of xenoarchaeological research, and she’d discovered it. She was already mentally beginning the latest chapter of her book when she looked up and saw a series of lines and spheres on the floor, painstakingly carved into the rock. It had to be a star chart. The poor devil in the suit had died here, perhaps abandoned by its comrades, and had spent its final hours showing anyone who found him the way home. Her excitement grew as she reached for her controls, trying to match the stars with those she knew. It would take a little interpretation, but it wouldn’t be difficult to find the homeworld. There was a realistic chance that they could reach it, that the alien spaceman’s people might be only a couple of jumps out into unexplored space. “That’s enough,” Fitzroy said, his voice somehow different. “Congratulations, Maggie. This is a hell of a discovery. Unfortunately, it is now classified under Article...” “Wait a damned minute,” she replied. “You’re working for Intelligence?” “And this is now a matter of interplanetary security.” “Your contract doesn’t cover this,” she said. “Nor can you just make me disappear. As soon as we get home...” “No, you won’t,” he replied. “You won’t be telling anyone, and you’ll be telling your publisher that your manuscript has been delayed.” “What can you possibly offer me to convince me to go along with that?” “Passage on the ship that goes to find their homeworld?”

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Table of Contents

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Part 2: Characters

Section 1: Character Creation Overview In the Battlecruiser Alamo RPG, Character Creation Steps One to Six are carried out twice, once for the top half of your character sheet (Officer) and once for the bottom half (Espatier). We recommend you begin with your Officer. Step One – Pick your Concept and Backstory Whether your character has a flair for gunsmithing, custom weapons and a sense of humour in Combat, is a former security guard who joined the Triplanetary Fleet in order to improve their prospects, or a skilled diplomat who always knows when not to pull the trigger and loves taking care of his pet cats, your character will be more cohesive with a concept. Many players find it useful to use a one or two word concept, e.g. evil assassin, cunning negotiator. This will act as a guide and help you through the steps, focusing your character. At this stage, you will also choose your position within the ship’s crew, with the help of the GM. There is no professional discrimination based on race or gender in the Triplanetary Confederation: any individual may have any job. You will also want to consider your character’s appearance at this stage. See Section 2: Background for more on Backstory, Quirks and Appearance. Step Two – Spend your Attribute Points Your Attribute Points describe what natural abilities your character possesses. Is he charismatic and quick? Is she strong and intelligent? Does he have huge Charisma, but not enough Willpower to stick around through dangerous Combat? These Points add to your dice rolls based on how you’re trying to accomplish something, but also reflect the personality of the character. If your character is trying to bash a door down, you’ll use Strength, if they are more likely to pick the lock, it’ll be Dexterity, and if they’d just call the guy inside and persuade him to open the door, it’ll be Charisma. Details of what each Attribute represents can be found in Section 3. A new character will place one of 6, 5 and 4 Points in each Attribute group (Potence, Defence, Reaction), which are displayed as rows on the left of the character sheet. Step Three – Choose your Skills Skills define your character’s learned abilities. Is he an ex-soldier from the Interplanetary War, who would have Investigation, Intimidation and Gunnery for controlling the masses? Is she a former bartender with Brawl for controlling bar fights and Persuasion to tell people to put the bottle down? This step will decide what types of actions you’ll be good at doing during the course of a game. Skills, together with your Attributes, define your character’s strengths and weaknesses. Details of what each Skill represents can be found in Section 3. A new character will place one of 11, 7 and 4 Points in each Skill group (Personal, Technical, Interaction), which are labelled rows on the right half of the character sheet. Step Four – Select your Specialities If you’ve got at least three Points in any Skill, you can pick Specialities for it. These will give you bonuses to Skill use in certain situations. Your bartender character might be a whirlwind of fists and feet in a bar fight, able to take people down left and right twice as fast as your average brawler, your ex-soldier guard might be such an expert with two guns that he can shoot both at once, or your diplomat could have that “je ne sais quoi” that makes them able to persuade anyone that a lie is the truth. The Specialities list can be found in Section 4. Only one Speciality may be chosen for a new character, so choose wisely, though more may be taken as you Level up! Step Five – Calculate your Derived Statistics How good you are at dodging enemy fire is, along with several other things, derived from a combination of your Attributes (Dexterity and Wits). Your Size, Stamina and Strength are combined to tell you how much equipment you can carry. Your Damage and Kill Modifiers define how likely you are to take Damage or be instantly killed. The details for calculating these can be found in Section 5. Why do this after Specialities? Some Specialities increase Derived Statistics. Step Six – Choose your Equipment A warrior is only as good as his sword (or gun!). Your equipment will help you with your mission, and may vary depending on exactly what your mission is. An Assault Rifle might help in a mission where you expect to charge in shooting, but a disguise might be better if you are trying to sneak in undetected. Equally, a Plasma Pistol on a spaceship is really only good for getting you sucked into space. Some equipment is designed for Combat – armour and weapons are often a must for combat troops universe, it is a dangerous place. Other equipment will help you boost your Skills in chosen areas, and some will contain vital tools for use under certain circumstances. You could even potentially have a spaceship! The full list can be found in Part 3. Step Seven – Repeat Steps Two to Five for the Espatier Your Espatier character must also be created and equipped. We recommend that you make it as varied and different as possible from the Officer, in order to give a wide variety of gameplay options! Step Eight – Play! Your character is complete. Enjoy your game of Battlecruiser Alamo!

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Part 2: Characters Section 2: Background

Backstory The backstory of a character is vital to understand where they came from, what they can do and how they operate. It will often give an indication of what Skills and Attributes the character is likely to possess. This is very much up to the individual, as most players will roleplay best with a character they create and wish to play. General recommendations •

Most characters will have a hobby, which they practice in their off-hours.

•

Many characters will be cross-trained in other professional duties than their primary role. Perhaps they used to be a Security Officer before they became an Executive Officer, for example.

Motivation Whatever your character’s background, whatever faction they belong to, every character will have several core motivations which brought them up to this point. Whether a desire for justice, pure greed, a feeling of enjoyment about killing, the search for their long-lost son or a wish for new experiences, your character will be more real if you give them a reason to exist. We recommend that you give your character about three separate motivations in order to provide the rest of the creation process with a framework.

Background N.B. The professions listed here include a description and a few suggestions for Skills you might possess from having that profession. They are suggestions, as are the Skill selections – feel free to come up with your own! Eager New Recruit You always dreamed of something better than what you had at home. Now that you’ve joined the Triplanetary Fleet, it’s even better than you ever thought! You might have gone through the Academy, or have signed up as an Espatier, but you have been assigned to a starship – the dream job for anyone in the Fleet! You couldn’t be happier to be here and you’re willing to make any sacrifice, adaptation or deal in order to fit in with the rest of the team: they are the experts, after all, and there’s so much for you to learn… Embarrassment Not everyone is in the Triplanetary Fleet because they want to be. Perhaps you’re the child of a Senator who wants to straighten you out and get you ready for a political career. Perhaps you’re a petty criminal who was offered a choice between service and jail time and you chose the obvious option. No matter what the reason, you’re here now, on this ship and you’re going to have to make the best of it. It’s going to be a long tour in deep space and when you come home, perhaps you’ll be as unchanged as you believe… or perhaps you’ll no longer be the embarrassment everyone keeps telling you that you are. Either way, it won’t be an easy time. Old Soldier The Triplanetary War changed you as much as anyone who participated in it. All that death, the new developments in technology and the realisation of what space combat truly means have changed your life for ever. Everything seemed strange when it ended. You couldn’t adapt back and you quickly realised that you’re career military. So when the Triplanetary Fleet came looking for people to join its ranks, you signed up. You may even have transferred from your planetary militia in order to join. Ordered You have been assigned to this ship by the Triplanetary Fleet or possibly even your own militia. How you choose to take these orders – whether as a positive or a negative – is up to you. Perhaps you feel you should be in command of this vessel and have been placed as Executive Officer, or perhaps it’s an amazing opportunity to move beyond the Sol System that you never expected to have in your home militia. As a result, you may be enthusiastic or angry about being assigned to this spaceship. Perhaps it’s older than the last one you served aboard or perhaps you dislike the way it is run by the Captain. Either way, you’re going to have to deal with it… Surprise The Triplanetary Fleet never particularly appealed to you but, for whatever reason, you have ended up involved with it. Under the circumstances, there’s little you can do but make the best of it: it seems you’re heading out into deep space no matter what happens. Trawled The Triplanetary Fleet’s Admiralty knew from the start that they did not have enough expertise to do what they needed, so they looked far and wide across their territories to find experts who could assist them. You are one such expert. Tempted by the promise of wealth, fame or exploration, you have agreed to join the crew of a starship and head out into the galaxy. What awaits out there may be something you can understand or not… but you’re here now, either way. Other There are many other possible backgrounds and reasons for being in the Triplanetary Fleet. Feel free to create your own if something in Part 1 of the book inspires you!

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Section 2: Background

Officer Positions Each Officer character must have a position on the ship. The following are the main roles which have duties aboard the ship. Additional roles, such as the Political Officer, may be chosen at the GM’s Discretion. Captain – Ultimately responsible for all actions of a ship, the Captain will decide on the overall strategy, often based on advice from the senior officers. It’s extremely rare for the Captain to leave the ship at all, except on diplomatic missions. N.B. We recommend that the Captain is an NPC controlled by the GM, unless the mission gives them a large role. Executive Officer – The ship’s top administrator, this officer is responsible for seeing to the smooth running of the ship, for personnelrelated affairs not important enough to refer to the Captain, and for liaising between the Department Heads. If the Captain is off-ship, the Executive Officer will assume temporary command. Operations Officer – This officer has responsibility for bridge operations, seeing to the assignment and training of bridge personnel, the most critical department on any capital ship. This officer generally serves as a top advisor to the Captain. Usually, they will not be present on the bridge in a battle, instead positioned in Auxiliary Control to assume command if needed. Systems Officer – This officer is responsible for the maintenance of the ship, as well as for all engineering functions. This includes running the largest department, usually consisting of more than half of the personnel complement. In normal operation, they and their team see to routine maintenance, while in battle they are positioned in strategic positions to handle key repairs. Tactical Officer – This individual is responsible for the offensive and defensive systems of the warship. This individual is usually one of the Captain’s top advisors. In addition to operating and maintaining the weapons systems, this officer has primary responsibility for the combat readiness of the crew as a whole. Security Officer – This role has seen radical changes in recent years: originally, this officer was solely responsible for internal security, but now they are also responsible for the computer security of the ship. Hacking missiles, enemy vessels and anything else which is required is the responsibility of this individual and their team. Science Officer – Replacing the earlier title of Astrogator, this officer is typically trained in one of the space sciences. Their role is to co-ordinate any scientific activities, along with responsibility for astrogation and the sensor systems. Several young scientists have been offered short-service commissions, while the Fleet Academy attempts to train new recruits to fill the role. Deck Officer – This officer is responsible for the maintenance of a starship’s Shuttle fleet, as well as flight assignments. Though the Shuttle complement of a starship can vary wildly, this usually involves responsibility for six to twelve small craft of varying types, as well as a half dozen pilots. Weapons Officer – This officer holds a recently-created position intended to give assistance to the Tactical Officer. They are typically a junior officer recently out of the Academy, who assists the Tactical Officer with weapons maintenance and combat drills, and serves as a relief for prolonged combat situations. Administrative Officer – This officer is a support role for the Captain, primarily to reduce the vast amount of paperwork that the commander of any starship in the Triplanetary Fleet is expected to produce and process. It’s seen as a desirable junior role for someone aiming for command someday. Medical Officer – All ships carry an officer in this role, who is responsible for the health and well-being of the crew. They will typically have a very understaffed department, though many of the crew will have limited medical training for emergencies.

Espatier Positions Espatiers have less possible variety than the Officers, with only a few options for positions. All Espatiers may have different skills, from scouting experience to advanced weapons training to combat hacking – that depends on the individual. N.B. While Espatiers have an officer to command them in the field, this is part of the Espatier squad. it is recommended that the GM takes this role (as with the Captain) when the Espatiers are sent into a situation. The officer will be kept out of Combat (as it has extremely high casualty rates), meaning that a player in this role may find they have little to do. NCO – Whether a corporal or a sergeant, NCOs are expected to be able to lead a squad into battle and take tactical decisions on the ground as necessary. Most Espatier NCOs are veterans with experience from some of the more bloody engagements in the Interplanetary War and have survived this long on caution and expertise. Espatier – The remainder of the Espatiers may have any kind of background, from a farmboy who dreamed of more to a veteran who declined promotion when they joined the Triplanetary Fleet.

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Part 2: Characters

Quirks

Quirks are character traits which make characters a little more realistic (or, potentially, silly!) but if roleplayed in certain ways, they can be a lot of fun! Although a Quirk is not required for a character, they are highly recommended, and can even be used in combination. Some examples are included, but feel free to come up with your own! Claustrophobia and Other Phobias Phobias, particularly claustrophobia, exist amongst Fleet personnel – everyone has something they are afraid of. When under the effect of a phobia, a Willpower Check must be passed at half Willpower to overcome it and take any actions. However, while under the effect of their phobia, characters are automatically given Observant and Thorough Specialities, whether they would usually possess these or not. These will disappear once the negative effect of the phobia is removed. Cold as Ice Some characters don’t care what they need to do to accomplish their mission – kill thousands of civilians to quell a riot, kill their teammates who won’t co-operate with the mission they wish to achieve or torture a Target savagely and without mercy. Characters with this Quirk have double Willpower for moral choice rolls – they are willing to employ tactics that might horrify others when they are working directly towards completing the mission. They are, however, less able to relate to others, meaning they receive a –1 dice Modifier to all Interaction Skills. Cowardly Cowardly characters are afraid for their personal safety, and will often flee from hostile situations. They have 1/2 of their normal Willpower Stat, down to a minimum of 1 (rounded up), and may be asked to roll Willpower Checks more often. However, as a result of their cowardice, they automatically get a permanent +2 to Stealth and +2 to Survival – they are good at hiding after all! Fearless A fearless character is a remarkable thing – a being with a complete lack of regard for their own safety. However, this behaviour in itself is moderately insane, so they have to be persuaded by their team not to attack everything head-on. A Fearless character should be assumed to pass any Willpower Checks related to Combat automatically. However, a fearless character is also required to take a Willpower Check at half Willpower to not attack enemies head-on when entering Combat, ignoring cover. Other things that should be included in consideration are things like daredevil stunts and suicide missions – the character basically sees themselves as invincible. More With Enthusiasm Than Skill Some characters don’t have a lot of skill, but their enthusiasm makes up for it… sort of. Characters with this Quirk have double the number of dice for attacks, except those using Gunnery or Brawl, in Combat. However, any 1’s they roll are considered an attack against an ally, ignoring Defence but not cover (where applicable), they may not choose which enemy Target they attack, and when they are attacking less than three targets, Hit Thresholds are increased by 3 (meaning 10 usually). Obsessive Obsessive characters have great difficulty letting tasks go undone or incomplete. They have to take a Willpower Check to stop any Continuous Roll using a Skill in which they have 5 or more dice per round. However, their thoroughness in these tasks is rewarded by the ability to re-roll every round during any Continuous Roll once, disregarding the first round’s results, if they wish. Protector A character with the Protector Quirk will do anything and everything to ensure their team returns alive – even to the point of risking their own life! If someone needs to show themselves to give the sniper a second target, or someone needs to run out and retrieve a fallen comrade, the character with the Protector Quirk will be the first to do that. A character with this Quirk will never be required to take Willpower Checks to conduct actions which directly ensure their teammates’ survival, even if they endanger their own life. They also receive 5 extra Speed, +2 Survival and +4 Willpower in these situations. However, the character will also be required to attempt to protect their team, even when they may not want to – they cannot imagine returning without one of their allies, and must pass a Willpower Check to abandon them. If a team member dies, any character with the Protector Quirk will receive a –1 Modifier to Willpower for the remainder of the mission, which will stack with any other modifiers. Bionic Replacements While medical science allows almost any wounded individual to be saved in the proper facilities, the bionic replacements used by the Triplanetary Confederation could bring with them complications – headaches, difficulty moving under certain conditions and a particular vulnerability to EMPs are just a few examples of what could happen as a result of this. They may also confer bonuses, such as additional vision modes in the case of an eye, or enhanced strength from a limb.

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Section 2: Background

Appearance Think about what your character looks like. Little details can make any individual feel a lot more real: •

Does he have a tattoo – perhaps in alien (to him) symbols?

•

Does she dye her hair because she likes to hide the grey, or just because she wants to change the colour?

•

Has she had cosmetic surgery to perfect (or even imperfect!) her features?

•

Does his uniform never seem to fit properly because of the way he hunches?

N.B. There is no professional discrimination based on race or gender in the Triplanetary Confederation: an individual of any appearance may have any job within the Fleet.

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Part 2: Characters Section 3: Character Statistics

Attributes Attributes and Skills define the natural abilities of the character, their strengths and weaknesses. Each Attribute starts with 1 Attribute Point, to which additional Points can be added. Each Skill starts with 0 Skill Points. When adding in excess of 4 Levels to any Statistic, the 5th and 6th Levels cost 2 Points each and the 7th and 8th Levels cost 3 Points each. Attributes are assigned Points on character creation. Each section (Potence, Defence, Reaction – displayed as rows on the character sheet) is assigned one of 6, 5 and 4 Points, to be distributed across the Attributes in that section.

Potence Strength This Attribute defines a character’s physical power. It is therefore used as the Attribute in activities that require an element of brute force for success, such as punching someone or forcing a door. A Strength of 1 means that the character cannot lift heavy objects as Trivial Actions – they must roll. Intelligence This Attribute defines a character’s mental power. It is therefore used as the Attribute in activities that require brainpower or knowledge, such as medicine, science and tactical planning. An Intelligence of 1 means that the character uses broken speech and may even refer to themselves in the third person (e.g. “Me not like this plan!”). This does not necessarily mean the character is unable to negotiate or use Intimidation, however. Charisma This Attribute defines the character’s social power and presence. It is therefore used as the Attribute in activities that require interacting socially with other characters, such as social manipulation, working together with others or leadership of a team. A Charisma of 1 means that the character is hesitant, unconvincing, or generally ignored in social interaction.

Defence Stamina This Attribute defines a character’s physical toughness. It is therefore used as the Attribute in activities that require physical endurance, such as running a marathon. It also defines Health and Pain. A Stamina of 1 means that the character is sickly, tending to feel unwell during roleplay situations, and must take an Attribute Check to maintain long-distance running and similar Stamina-based activities. Willpower This Attribute defines the character’s mental defences. It is therefore used as the Attribute in activities that require mental endurance, such as resistance to torture, overcoming mental stress or resisting social pressure. A Willpower of 1 means that the character finds long activities tedious and will not want to devote their time to such things – they would rather be working on many short tasks than one long one. They will therefore have to take a Willpower Check to undertake any Continuous Roll. In addition, they may have traits similar to the “Cowardly” Quirk.

Reaction Dexterity This Attribute defines a character’s physical finesse and reaction time. It is therefore used as the Attribute in activities that require precise movement or co-ordination, such as stealth, gymnastics and setting explosives. A Dexterity of 1 means that the character has bad co-ordination, and may walk into objects by accident. Wits This Attribute defines the character’s mental reaction time. It is therefore used as the Attribute in activities that require swift response and mental clarity, such as perceiving movement in the area and using firearms in Combat situations. A Wits of 1 means that the character has slow reactions. Luck This Attribute defines the character’s luck. It is therefore used as the Attribute in activities that require Unskilled Rolls and defines the number of Luck Points a character possesses. A Luck of 1 means that the character is generally unlucky – it’s a license for the GM to make bad things happen to them!

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Section 3: Character Statistics

Skills For most actions, a Skill will be combined with an Attribute to determine the number of dice rolled by the player. The Skill should be combined with the Attribute the GM deems most appropriate under the specific circumstances. On character creation, you assign Points to each of the three sections (Personal, Technical, Interaction) – 11 to one, 7 to another and 4 to the last. These Points are then distributed among Skills in that section.

Personal Skills Brawl This Skill defines a character’s ability to fight hand-to-hand with no weapons. It is used for Unarmed Combat when combined with Strength (or Dexterity, if specialised to do so), for taking a punch and still being able to act normally with Stamina, or for target-finding in a messy brawl with Intelligence. Investigation This Skill defines a character’s ability to find items or people and their awareness of their surroundings. It is used with Intelligence in Active Search Checks and with Wits in Passive Search Checks (“Perception Checks”). Larceny This Skill defines a character’s Skill at all types of theft. It is used for many illegal activities, including pickpocketing and cracking locks when combined with Dexterity, forgery with Charisma (as convincing someone is the most important part!) and knowledge of illegal activities with Intelligence. Melee This Skill defines a character’s ability to use non-firearm weapons, such as swords. It is used in Melee Combat with Strength (or Dexterity, if specialised), and for analysis of Melee fights or assessment of Melee weapons when combined with Intelligence. Stealth This Skill defines a character’s ability to find the best place to hide and to effectively conceal themselves. It is combined with Dexterity for the physical act of hiding and with Intelligence for locating a place to hide or knowing where to look for someone. Survival This Skill defines a character’s ability to survive in harsh environments and physical situations. It is combined with Stamina used in situations like prolonging life through breath control when running out of oxygen in a space suit or for avoiding death when seriously injured (see Dying and Surviving), or with Intelligence for surviving in a hostile environment (by finding edible plants and animals, for example). A high enough Survival Skill allows characters to reduce Damage (or even ignore it, if specialised) for a limited time (see Survival Mode).

Technical Skills Computer This Skill defines a character’s knowledge and abilities relating to computer systems. It is combined with Intelligence to be used for hacking and for understanding computer systems the character interacts with, or with Dexterity in order to work with and manipulate computer hardware (including weapons and equipment!). Engineering This Skill defines a character’s knowledge and abilities in all fields of engineering. It is combined with Dexterity for everything physical, such as repairing an electronic device, and with Intelligence for knowledge about engineering or chemistry and physics. Explosives This Skill defines a character’s knowledge and experience in the use of explosives. It is combined with Dexterity for both throwing and setting explosives (although you may have to combine with Intelligence to find the best spot!) and with Intelligence and Dexterity (in two rolls) for disarming them.

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Part 2: Characters Gunnery This Skill defines a character’s knowledge and experience in the use of projectile and energy weapons, whether Personal weapons, or mounted on buildings, vehicles or spaceships. For Personal weapons it is combined with Wits, while for Mounted weapons or others which target through an interface (rather than physically pointing the weapon) it is combined with Dexterity. In order to unjam, assess or service a weapon, it is combined with Intelligence. Medicine This Skill defines a character’s knowledge and abilities relating to biology. It can be combined with Intelligence for everything from healing Damage to creating biological weapons and knowledge of biochemistry. Pilot This Skill defines a character’s ability to fly, drive or control any type of vehicle. It is used whenever the pilot is trying to do anything more complicated than simply travel from one place to another. It is combined with Dexterity for evasive or stealthy driving, or Wits for most piloting tasks, such as docking and landing. Combined with Intelligence, it defines the character’s ability to navigate or operate shipboard equipment and detect stealthed vehicles.

Interaction Skills Commercial This Skill defines a character’s commercial instinct and ability. The ability to “persuade” the right people to do business with you is an important part of business skills, so it includes bribery. When combined with Charisma, it is used for bribery (a bribe might be money, equipment or even a spacecraft!). When combined with Intelligence, it’s business sense and when combined with Willpower, it’s used for resisting negotiation. Esteem This Skill defines a character’s standing within their organisation and the amount of recognition they receive from both friends and enemies. It has an advantage in some cases over Persuasion, Intimidation and Seduction, as it is not an Opposed Roll to use Esteem. It is combined with Intelligence to gain information, and with Charisma to motivate friends or frighten enemies (although this is based on Notoriety as well as Esteem… They have to have heard of you for this to be effective!). Instruction This Skill defines a character’s ability to teach or assist someone in an activity. It allows the transfer of extra dice (see Part 4, Section 6) to the person attempting an action. It also facilitates some aspects of leadership when combined with Charisma, or allows education of another character (including briefings) when combined with Intelligence. Intimidation This Skill defines a character’s ability to convince someone to do what they request by threatening physical or financial harm. It is combined with Charisma for the user and Willpower for the defender. To understand whether someone is bluffing them with a threat of violence, a character may roll Intelligence combined with this Skill. Persuasion This Skill defines a character’s ability to convince someone to do what they request by persuasion or flattery. It is combined with Charisma for the user and Willpower for the defender. To detect whether someone is lying to you, it is used with Intelligence. Seduction This Skill defines a character’s ability to convince someone to do what they request by using sex appeal. It is combined with Charisma for the user and Willpower for the defender. To understand whether someone is attempting to use Seduction on them, a character may roll Intelligence combined with this Skill.

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Section 4: Specialities On creation, each character gains 1 Speciality. As they Level up, they are able to choose more at certain Levels, up to a maximum of 5. Bar Fight Veteran You are a whirlwind of fists when brawling in situations where you are not at risk of being shot. You are able to perform 2 Unarmed Combat Actions per Combat Turn in any Combat where no Ranged weapons have yet been used. Blind Fight You are exceptionally well-trained and can fight without seeing. If your Target is within 5 metres, this ability prevents you from being affected by Blindness or Darkness when using Brawl or Melee! Called Shot You are a practiced fighter, and can choose where on your Target’s body your attack will land, at a 50% dice penalty to the Hit Roll with any weapon.

Headshot

Reduce Kill Threshold by 1 (for Brawl, causes “Stunned” Status)

You may also target an individual in a Grapple, shooting a specific enemy, but not a specific part of their body.

Arm Shot

Reduce Hit Dice by 10, cumulative

Leg Shot

Reduce Speed by 10, cumulative

If Damage is caused to the Target in the Turn a Called Shot is declared, the effect in the table is applied. The effect is removed by Healing. N.B. A Called Shot attempt to anywhere but the head removes any Kill Threshold for the attack. Dual-Wield You’re used to using two weapons in Combat. Whether this is two identical weapons or two differing ones (e.g. a sword and a gun), you have long-practiced proficiency. You do not take the Dual-Wield penalty for using two weapons and may attack the same Target twice in a Combat Turn – once with each weapon (providing you aren’t out of range, ammo, etc). Fast Hack You’re a master at Combat Hacking enemy weapons and equipment. In Combat, you are able to use a single Intelligence + Computer Opposed Roll to hack into most things that would usually take a Continuous Roll (GM’s Discretion). Instructor You are experienced as an instructor. This removes all Successes transfer limits on Instruction, but you must still have a minimum of one Skill Level in the Skill being transferred. Lucky Bugger You are just lucky sometimes: you may roll a single dice (Threshold [10 – Luck]) to negate the effects of every Bad Luck Point used against you. Meathead (Espatier Only) As an Espatier, you’ve always defined yourself by your physical strength. Your Health is defined by Strength, not Stamina! Melee Finesse You specialise in precise attacks – you use Dexterity for Melee attacks with bladed weapons without the normal penalty. Position Expert (Officer Only) You have trained for years for your current position (must be declared at the time this Speciality is taken). You may re-roll all non-Successes on your initial roll when using your chosen station on the bridge or in auxiliary control when not in Combat. Repairman You have double dice for all rolls when you are attempting to repair a piece of equipment and are not in Combat. Silent Killer You always target the best area on an enemy for your Sneak Attack. The Kill Threshold for all Sneak Attacks is reduced by 2. Slippery as an Eel Somehow, you are able to escape from the grasp of others much more easily than most. Once per Combat, you may use Wriggle Free and automatically succeed with 2 Successes (must be declared before any dice are rolled). In addition, this Wriggle Free attempt will have a Threshold as if you are Skilled in Brawl, even if you are not! Steel Skin You are an expert survivalist! You can enter Survival Mode with only 1 Success on the initial roll, and the number of Successes required to maintain Survival Mode increases by 1 per Turn from that number (2 in the second Turn, 3 in the third, etc). Taking the Initiative You are an experienced tactician. At the beginning of each Combat Round, you may choose where in the Initiative order you want to take your Combat Turn in this Round. Workhorse You are able to carry significantly more than would be expected for your Size. Gain +50% Encumbrance.

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Part 2: Characters Section 5: Derived Stats These Statistics are defined by the backstory of the character, or by combining the defined Statistics above. Notoriety This Attribute defines the character’s fame and infamy with the Triplanetary Confederation, Lunar Republic and the UN. In most cases, the character will be famous to their aligned faction and infamous to the others. This Statistic is based on the backstory of the character, and any events that unfold during the campaign. A Notoriety of 0 or 1 means you are not recognised by anyone who doesn’t directly know you. A Notoriety of 8 means that everyone will have heard of you. Size This Attribute defines the character’s physical size. It is based on race, as follows: Child Size = 4 Adult Size = 5 Size has an effect on Health, Speed and Encumbrance. Size is a logarithmic scale – each value represents double the volume of the previous value and half the volume of the next. Health (and Pain) This Attribute defines the character’s Health Points, which also defines their Pain threshold. Health = Stamina + Size See “Health and Pain” under Combat Rules for more details. Initiative Modifier This Attribute defines the character’s base reaction time when entering Combat. When entering Combat, a dice is rolled and the number is added to the Initiative Modifier – the highest number goes first. Initiative Modifier = Wits + Willpower Speed This Attribute defines the character’s movement speed in Combat. Speed = Strength + Dexterity + Size See Movement for more details. Encumbrance This Attribute defines the character’s ability to carry equipment. If the character carries more than their Encumbrance allows, their Dexterity reduces by 1 Point per Encumbrance over, and they cannot carry more than Encumbrance + Dexterity. Encumbrance = Strength + Stamina + Size Defence This Attribute defines the character’s ability to avoid attacks by dodging out of the way. Defence = Lowest of Wits and Dexterity Damage Modifier This Attribute defines the character’s resistance to Damage, and reduces the chance of taking Damage. Damage Modifier = Armour Damage Modifier + Any other effects Kill Modifier This Attribute defines the character’s resistance to killing blows, and reduces the chance of being instantly killed by an enemy. Kill Modifier = Armour Kill Modifier + Any other effects

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Section 6: Gaining Experience There is no official Points system for gaining XP in the Era d10 Rule Set. The intention of this is to allow the players to focus on playing and enjoying themselves rather than recording XP each time they defeat an enemy. Our recommendation is that experience is gained by completing objectives in-game. At the end of each objective, the GM decides if the players have made enough progress to Level up. This may mean that the Officers and Espatiers Level up at different rates. It is recommended that, if an Espatier dies, the replacement is of the same Level as the previous character. This is due to the fact that Combat is extremely lethal and as many as half of the Espatiers may well find themselves dead in any engagement! N.B. Of course, more rigorous rules to define experience earning could easily be incorporated into this system. The table shows the additional Points awarded to a character on achieving a new Level. Attribute Points may only be used on Statistics under the Attribute section in Section 4, and Skill Points may only be used on Statistics under the Skill section in Section 3. If a Speciality is able to be claimed upon reaching a Level, any Speciality not already taken which the character qualifies for may be chosen from the list in Section 4 (or any other the GM chooses to allow!). N.B. The Points awarded are Skill Points or Attribute Points, and higher Statistic Levels require multiple Points, so some players may have to save Points for multiple Levels in order to progress (to progress Strength from 4 to 5, for example, requires 2 Attribute Points). Levelling Skills Through Successful Use Skills represent learned abilities, and can therefore also be Levelled by another means: by repeated use. For a Skill with 0 Skill Points, it takes 5 successful uses to raise it to 1 Skill Point, then a further 10 for 2 Skill Points, and so on: Number of uses needed = Next Skill Level x 5 Skills can only be Levelled in this way to a maximum of 4 Skill Points per Skill, beyond which they must be Levelled through the normal route.

Level

Attribute Points

Skill Points

Speciality

2

1

2

0

3

1

2

1

4

1

2

0

5

1

2

1

6

1

2

0

7

1

2

0

8

1

2

1

9

1

2

0

10

2

4

1

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Part 3: Equipment and Vehicles

Section 1: weapons There are a huge variety of weapons available to members of the Triplanetary Fleet. However, Bullet and Plasma Weapons are only available as mission equipment and personal versions may not be kept by Officers or Espatiers on the ship.

Knuckledusters Providing a basic enhancement to Unarmed Combat, these might be frowned upon in a Combat situation, but could be extremely useful in a bar room brawl! This item adds a Kill Threshold of 10 to all Unarmed Attacks (affected by Armour).

Combat Knife Basic equipment which is accessible to all members of the Triplanetary Fleet. Espatiers and Officers alike may carry one of these as a last resort for when they get into a sticky situation!

Cudgel / Baton Whether deliberately crafted or improvised, hitting an enemy with a bludgeoning weapon has been a common tactic in a desperate situation throughout history. The Triplanetary Fleet makes such weapons available to minimise the need for lethal action.

Sword The weapon of choice of Triplanetary Fleet members – Officer or Espatier – varies from individual to individual. Despite their seemingly outdated design, swords are still favoured in certain circumstances: they are silent, lethal, easy to wield in close quarters and have no chance of breaching the hull when boarding an enemy ship.

Encumbrance

1

Damage Threshold

N/A

Kill Threshold

10

Number

1

Damage

Pain

Usage

Held

Maximum Range

Reach

No. of Hands needed

1

Encumbrance

2 (1 for throwing)

Damage Threshold

6

Kill Threshold

8

Number

Unlimited Ammunition

Damage

Health

Usage

Held or Thrown

Maximum Range

Held: Reach Thrown: ~20 metres

No. of Hands needed

1

Encumbrance

2

Damage Threshold

6 – ( / 2)

Kill Threshold

8 – ( / 2)

Number

1

Damage

Pain

Usage

Held or Thrown

Maximum Range

Held: Reach Thrown: ~10 metres

No. of Hands needed

1

Encumbrance

2

Damage Threshold

6 – ( / 2)

Kill Threshold

8 – ( / 2)

Number

1

Damage

Health

Usage

Held or Thrown

Maximum Range

Held: Reach Thrown: ~10 metres

No. of Hands needed

1

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Part 3: Equipment and Vehicles

Non-Lethal Weapons There’s a strong emphasis on ‘non-lethal’ weapons for shipboard use, if only to prevent damage to critical systems. A selection of such weapons are therefore made available to Espatiers and Officers alike! N.B. Kill Thresholds with these weapons fill the Target’s Pain Damage, rendering them unconscious.

Taser The non-lethal weapon of choice for most missions, thanks to its light weight and cheap cost. However, it’s viewed as a less than ideal option in most cicrumstances...

Encumbrance

2

Damage Threshold

6

Kill Threshold

6

Damage

Pain Causes Electrocution Status if Damage is dealt.

Sonic Pistol Encumbrance

2

Damage Threshold

4

Kill Threshold

8

Damage

Pain Causes knockback if Damage is dealt, giving the Target Stunned Status.

Usage

Fired

Maximum Range

10 Metres

No. of Hands needed

1

Usage

Fired

Maximum Range

20 Metres

No. of Hands needed

1

The more advanced and expensive option, the Sonic Pistol cause the Target to be thrown back with intense waves of sound.

Bullet Weapons While bullets might look relatively standard, they have been carefully redesigned by the military technologists of the Triplanetary Fleet (and other factions). Most of them have special shaped charges which only detonate on contact with an organic or selected Target to minimise the chance of breaching the hull. Some even have homing features and, for Zero-G use, there’s a ‘gyroc’ option for extended range. Pistol A basic and trusty weapon for any member of the Triplanetary Fleet, the Pistol has proven the saviour of many individuals through the years.

Encumbrance

Easily concealed and light to carry, it’s commonly used as a secondary weapon by Espatiers.

Damage Threshold

6

Kill Threshold

8

Damage

Health

Usage

Fired

Maximum Range

25 metres

No. of Hands needed

1

Submachine Gun Encumbrance

1

Damage Threshold

7

Number

9

Damage

Health

Usage

Fired (3 Rounds per Turn)

Maximum Range

40 metres

No. of Hands needed

1

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1

An auto-fire version of the Pistol, the Submachine Gun fires at a fast rate with slightly lower-velocity rounds.

Section 1: weapons Assault Rifle The staple weapon for Espatiers, the Assault Rifle is easy to use, reliable and fires multiple rounds per Combat Turn.

Encumbrance

2

Damage Threshold

5

Kill Threshold

7

Number

Unlimited Ammunition

Damage

Health

Usage

Fired (5 Rounds per Turn)

Encumbrance

2

Damage Threshold

4

Kill Threshold

6

Damage

Health ▪▪ Damage inflicted is affected by the distance away: ◊