Coretechs

The Catastrophe

About two hundred cycles ago, civilization was destroyed. No one knows why, though there are many theories. Humankind was viciously attacked en masse in an event known as the Catastrophe. Planetary defense systems were turned on the planets they were defending. Stations across the galaxy had their air vented, life support systems shut off, and databanks purged. Reactors went critical on ships. Humanity, across the galaxy, was driven to near-extinction within a few hundred segments. Then the attack abruptly stopped, for reasons unknown. By the time things stabilized, many stations had lost most, if not all, of their populations.

Today, few survivors of the Catastrophe remain. Those that do offer diverse testimonies of the varying disasters which befell their stations, but there is always a common element: death and destruction, on an incomprehensible scale, returned to haunt a species which thought it had left suffering behind once and for all.

Post-Catastrophe Timeline

In the aftermath, planets were unreachable by those remaining few who were sprinkled out among the stars. For every station with survivors, there were many more without. Most human knowledge was destroyed. Books were an anachronism, so the databank purge wiped out most of what humanity needed to continue surviving, as well as the records of the past. Those survivors with skills were quickly called upon to spread their knowledge, but their expertise was piecemeal. Without the massive databanks, human technological advances came to a halt. There were even been disputes about the current old Earth year, believed to be roughly in the mid-2600s.

Gradually, despite confusion and hardship, the Consortium re-established control of Sol System. Nouveau Limoges, the lone Gaule station in the system, cut off from its government in Alpha Centauri, relinquished its affiliation in return for assistance.

But without the knowledge developed over preceding centuries, no one knew the entirety of how to build a starship, or how to construct one of the massive wormhole jump gates that many star systems have. Simple repair and reactivation of existing gates took time and required many scavenged parts from dead stations or ships.

In cycle 91 A.C., jump gate contact to Alpha Centauri was finally re-established, but lead to a deadly meeting between a Consortium exploratory fleet and a Gaule battle group from Alpha Centauri. Miscommunication, paranoia, and outright rage sparked a quick and deadly firefight which led to the near destruction of the small Consortium fleet. This incident, commonly referred to as “Dominion’s Folly”, after the Consortium frigate accused of firing first, prompted a full-scale Consortium Naval response. The Gaule Fleet withdrew and consolidated its forces. Several small skirmishes ensued, but both fleets withheld from general engagement. Seemingly in a stalemate position, negotiations began.

Eventually, though Gaule suspicions about the cause of the Catastrophe were never completely quashed, both sides agreed to a cease-fire. Diplomats took over. A treaty was later signed by representatives of both affiliations at Nouveau Limoges, which had been ceremoniously handed back to the Gaule Protectorate as a measure of good faith. This treaty is known as the Nouveau Limoges Accords, which outlined terms for expansionism, claims to stations, and trade.

Under the Accords, the Gaule Protectorate and Consortium agreed to combine their efforts in producing and repairing ships, exploring the galaxy, redoubling the effort in recovering surviving stations, and answering the great question of what caused the Catastrophe.

This is humanity today. Most history has been lost. Existence is a hardscrabble lot, as the few left try to recover and simply stay alive. Humankind's reign has been reduced to a 40 light-year sphere, centered on Sol System. Contact with the planets and most of the other star systems have been cut off. Humans are slowly rebuilding their stations, in hopes that one day, they can regain our former glory, while also answering the important questions of who attacked humanity and why.

The Emberfest

Networks fell, power dwindled, Darkness settled, terror kindled. Together we huddle, our spirits wont lift, Out in the Black, abandoned we drift.

The engines are silent, silence that smothers. Most colors are gone, Black ate all the others. System readings in red, hope air-locked to Black, We sent it away… but something came back!

Out of the Black, the stars advanced, Out of the Black, little lights danced. From heart to heart, light remembers, darkness flees and fear dwindles. From hearth to hearth, we spread the embers, joined together, life rekindles.

(The above is a poem found scrawled on the wall of an abandoned house in the Red Zones of Tau Station.)

There is a story from one of the earliest days following the Catastrophe. There are different versions, but all share one common theme. In the days following the Catastrophe, when systems were down and engines were silent, when survivors huddled in the cold and darkness, hope was, understandably, quite bleak. Those that had homes gazed out of their windows, in the ruins of the once great cities within the stations, trying to pierce the darkness without. Days passed, perhaps even tenspans, swallowed up by the gloom and silence, the black beyond their thresholds.

Hope, was scarce, food and water scarcer, warmth and light nonexistent. Then, one day, a glimmer! Small, tiny, glittering motes of light bounced and weaved outside, coming out of the black, moving from house to house. And where they stopped, they created more light, and soon warmth, and not long after that, hope.

These were the first embers. None knew where the first was found; perhaps a malfunctioning plasma coil, or an enterprising citizen with tools, or even something more unknowable. But we knew what they represented. They were hope, they were the spark each of us carries inside, that burns even when all is lost and requires just a little encouragement to grow into a bright flame. They represented our tenacity, our will to survive, and our togetherness. For when the little sparks, the tiny embers, are brought together, then we can build a raging bonfire!

Once a cycle we celebrate the Emberfest. Station lights are dimmed and groups of revelers walk from home to home, carrying burning little embers that they will share and then be joined as they continue on to others, bringing joy and hope and a little cheer. Thus do we celebrate our coming out of the darkness, our survival of the Catastrophe.

More recently the tradition has also been reinforced by a group of freelancers calling themselves the Auld Lang Syne. They, so the story goes, steal supplies and items from the governments of the Consortium and Gaule to distribute among the needy. The group themselves is never seen and the only sign of their passage is a crate of goods marked with an image of a little mote of light in the darkness. It is further purported that, in recent years, the Consortium and Gaule governments actually lean into the tradition, purposefully leaving goods unattended to be ‘stolen’ by the Auld Lang Syne in a once a cycle show of good cheer.

Reclamation Tenspan

When the world is reborn, when all that we knew is claimed by fire and darkness, its citizens are left struggling to find the light. It is difficult to start anew, to evolve and adapt, without knowing what we have left behind. One needs to reclaim their past before they can leave it behind. Reclamation Day is designed as a day of rebirth. Reclaim, recycle, reforge your narrative!

Once a cycle, during this special tenspan, intelligence branches of the goverments offer their services to the public in order to help them to learn who they were Before, where their families may have come from. In accepting this knowledge, they can then leave it behind. An evolution of self through closure of the past.

Humanity has been rebooted. After the Catastrophe, those of us who remained could only focus on survival. Much of the knowledge of who we were before, where we came from, slowly but inexorably drifted away into the black as our grandparents and parents struggled during the dark years. Reclamation Day, the brain-child of governmental psy-ops divisions, came about as a way to help the collective community emotionally evolve past the near extinction level event that has been on humanity’s subconscious for hundreds of cycles and focus on rebuilding from a fresh place.

At the close of the tenspan, an elaborate ceremony takes place in the ports of many stations. Elaborately crafted metallic eggs are sold to those citizens who achieved reclamation. Their histories are uploaded into these intricate receptacles and they are then all released into the black, drifting away and allowing citizens to start anew.

This all is, of course, no small task. During this tenspan both the Consortium’s and Gaule Protectorate’s intelligence branches tend to outsource much of their investigatory work towards the reclamation of private citizen’s pasts. This is authorized as it does not (for the most part) involve any measure of threat to galactic security .

The mesh will accordingly updated with such jobs, so any enterprising citizens with an eye for investigation should watch this space!

Productive Reclamation Day Citizens! Reclaim, recycle, reforge!