The cradle of Humanity. The Sol system bears particular sentimental importance to the human species as its birthplace. While the Terran homeworld of Earth has been rendered uninhabitable by the Catastrophe, a number of stations orbit Mars and maintain this system as a hub of intergalactic activity. Several stations of historical and cultural significance operate out of this central system. Tau Station, the jewel of the Consortium, makes its home here and sees some of the most visitors of any station in the galaxy. There are six stations currently in operation within the Sol System.
What was once violent and rough, volatile, and explosive has calmed like the stars from which our bodies were fed our first ancient form. The old ones give us the origin tales of our promise land: Daedalus, our home and we, The Promethean Sect, have claimed it as our own. We thrive on our home station. The time for destruction and disorder has come and gone. Our bounty is won: Daedalus Station is our haven. From this we vow peace. Sated, we vow calm.
Continue, that you may know more.
This holy place once churned phosphorus for the system. Without it, life could not grow. Yet the ancestors did grow. They expanded and claimed; emboldened, they forgot their pure roots. Until finally The Catastrophe scorched the haughty and laid siege to all around. Fitting, we feel that such a place would rest in the nurturing hands of the Promethean Sect. We who hold life as hallowed understand best the sacred task of processing and providing that which gives life to the precious green things: phosphorus. We are the honored keepers of life.
No vision of others to our pure ancient ancestors compares to that which we embody. The Promethean Sect is here to help you, to save you from the death of the mind and soul. To artificially prolong one’s existence is, by our gospel, no true nor worthy existence at all. With us, you can be everything your one life promises. The replicant clone is an affront to our truest self. We pity the husks and mourn that which they presume to mirror. Clones are not the answer to the full life. The full life may only come to fruition through the one life.
Daedalus Station offers a community to those who embrace our creed. Our renowned phosphorus processing plant has been retooled and is operational; shipping the means of survival to all corners of the system. We are a processing plant of vital goods.
The Prometheans, cognizant of the toll social segregation can take on a culture, live alongside the diligent workers of Daedalus in the residential district. We are a united people, blessed with the zeal for our one life. Although, as is the case with all stations, ruins do exist on Daedalus, rarely are they home to those that strive to benefit the greater good of The Sect.
Employment is obtained with ease at the Daedalus Employment Center and often small tasks can be found for the industrious in the station inn, The 1-Up. Here is an excellent place for visitors to find temporary housing while better acquainting with the local customs. Any able-bodied traveler on the path of their one life will find a community of open arms and we are always eager to make a place for them. Our hope is that visitors are only visitors for a brief time.
The Daedalus market provides a wealth of interstellar goods for trade or sale. Those Prometheans with an entrepreneurial streak are known for their broker’s prowess and obtain items from far reaches as trade goods for both residents and visitors alike. Accessing saved creds is of no concern as The Bank of Daedalus is closely connected with the market district and is open at every hour to ensure the best financial service for the industries of The Prometheus Sect station. Should trouble, financial or otherwise, arise, Prometheans are vigilant to protect both devout worshippers and visitors alike.
Daedalus Station places heavy emphasis on the care of one’s true body. The station has a state-of-the-art training gym and well-staffed Moemedi Sick Bay. Care for one’s true form is at the top of our tenets. The Promethean Sect is committed to providing the spiritual and physical path to the fullest one life possible.
We, The Promethean Sect of Daedalus Station welcome the visitors of the stars, the pilgrims, and the lost. Truly believe that when you arrive, it was your one true soul that brought you here.
Orwellian level: low
Law level: high
København, once a beacon of industry, a station of shipwrights and world class engineers known far and wide as the very best in the building of spacefaring vessels. Now, after the Catastrophe, this station is a husk of its former self. When the Catastrophe struck here, it struck hard. Hundreds of gargantuan ships moored above the station, some for repairs, others being built outright, came slowly but inexorably crashing down upon the luckless denizens below. Cruiseliners, built to ferry thousands of passengers across the solar system disintegrated entire city blocks, other buildings exploded into fiery balls of deadly plasma as fuel tanks ignited or dangerous payloads caught a spark. In the aftermath, København’s people crawled out of the wreckage and, those that did, marveled at their survival.
Today, the station is a wrecked shell of its former self with giant skeletons of once space-faring vessels crouching over entire city blocks like hungry gods. Yet it is also a testament to resilience, to the indomitable spirit of its inhabitants. Rather than give up, the people of København have learnt to adapt to their situation, and even more to try and reclaim their former glory.
Many ships have been converted into buildings, their now empty hulls serving as walls and ceilings. Brave scavengers known as Wreck Runners have been especially trained to navigate the dangers and ancient security systems of dead vessels, hoping to find resources and slowly clean up the graveyard known as, “The Wreckage.”
While much of the knowledge of shipbuilding has been lost, many people have come together to try and piece together what information there is and fill in the gaps with their own ingenuity. And slowly, the shipyards of the station have begun manufacturing vessels again, with corporations like Chamberlain setting up shop in the scrappy station, struggling to emerge like an ugly phoenix hatchling from the ashes of its previous life.
Orwellian level: high
Law level: low
Founded by wealthy Gaule philanthropists looking to fashion a station devoted to the arts, Nouveau Limoges has long existed as a haven for artists, poets, musicians, and idealists. With its reputation for independent thinking and a resistance to authority, the station has always been seen as somewhat of an eccentric anomaly to the Gaule administration. With its large population of free thinkers, devoted to creative pursuits, the government was often at odds with the non-conformity of its citizens. The imposition of tighter control was met by increasing civil disobedience and the threat of outright rebellion.
In time, a compromise was reached by the Gaule and the people of Nouveau Limoges. Henceforth, the station would be governed with a lighter hand. The government would be still in charge, but would allow the citizens greater say in how they were governed. After the Gaule shifted their attention to establishing stations in Alpha Centauri, Nouveau Limoges became the remaining Gaule presence in Sol, and entered into what’s been called the “Golden Age” of its artistic and cultural development.
And then the Catastrophe happened. Famine. Communication blackouts. Drought. Panic. A breakdown of essential systems.
Unfortunately for the station’s citizens, it wasn’t just the Catastrophe they had to deal with. Desperate to establish order in the disaster’s wake, the Gaule administrators of Nouveau Limoges accepted the assistance of the recovering Consortium. Some say they had no choice in the matter; they were isolated, and cut off from their own government. In any case, the Consortium moved quickly to consolidate its presence and took control of the station’s recovery. Thus began the reconstruction under Consortium supervision. At first the citizens were grateful for the help, but as systems and infrastructure were stabilized, they began to struggle against their benefactor’s increasingly harsh rule. When, according to the Consortium, reasonable demands and the need for community sacrifice were ignored, martial law was declared. The Consortium began a campaign of measures aimed at stamping out all dissent.
This period became known as “The Sorrows.” All forms of resistance were punishable by imprisonment or exile. Citizens were initially asked to volunteer for recovery work but were soon drafted into forced labor. “Desperate times call for desperate measures,” the Consortium explained. “We must work together or we will die together.” During this period, Nouveau Limoges saw an influx of Consortium citizens, many came to help, other to administer, and some for exploitation. To this day, even after being returned to Gaule administration, Nouveau Limoges has a sizable Consortium population.
The Consortium administration of Nouveau Limoges continued for over 80 cycles, and would have continued indefinitely if not for the recovery of the Sol Jump Gate and the re-establishment of contact with the Gaule home system of Alpha Centauri. This would lead to a brief armed confrontation between the naval forces of both Affiliations and the subsequent signing of a peace treaty on Nouveau Limoges. This treaty, the Nouveau Limoges Accords, would define the future relationship between the Consortium and the Gaule Protectorate. It would also return Nouveau Limoges to Gaule.
The return to Gaule rule would signal the official end of “The Sorrows” and the re-establishment of Nouveau Limoges’ artistic and cultural heritage. Though its “Golden Age” may never be duplicated, the station has quickly regained its reputation for nurturing the arts. Artist and Craftsman Guilds are once again flourishing. Markets are busy. Museums and galleries are open. New plays and music are being performed. Nouveau Limoges is once again a cross-road of free-thought, creativity, and independence. A booming market of artistic trade and craftsmanship. A refreshing mixture of the mundane, the exotic, the profound, and the rare.
Through artistic triumphs and devastating losses, Nouveau Limoges has re-emerged to become a shining beacon of human expression. There’s an old Gaule saying, “For better or worse, Nouveau Limoges will change the way you see the universe and yourself.”
Orwellian level: low
Law level: high
Sol Jump Gate
Titanic in size, Sol System’s jump gate rotates against the backdrop of space. Dozens of ships line up in an orderly queue near the gate to wait for their turn to jump to a different star system. Every few segments, one of the starships slowly approaches the wormhole field inside the giant metal ring and disappears in a brilliant flash of light. A small fleet of Consortium and Gaule warships guard the jump gate from a distance.
Orwellian level: high
Law level: high
Taungoo Station is a vista awash in crimson and amber. The warmth of the environment hums gently with the constant whirs of the principal industry to Taungoo: The clone vats and research vaults and The Anima Foundation. Golden pagoda arches hug every inch of the station; brass chimes dangle liberally, situated near vents to trigger their song.
Taungoo is known system-wide for their culinary delights. The noodle dishes of Taungoo are a treasure unto themselves and great care is taken with the preparation of all varieties of the meal. Visitors soon learn that ‘standing noodles’ may be purchased in the market district, or The Arcade of Scent, while ‘sitting noodles’ are the specialty of the inn, The Broth Base; the variations provide cultural context to the growing movement of food as enjoyment rather than simply for survival. The residents of Taungoo Station are generally either employees of Anima or comfortable working-class merchants, while the ruins host the less fortunate. The Kyarr, official Taungoo Station enforcers sanctioned by station Administration, often travel in groups and are more affiliated with the native culture of the station than they are Anima. They are brutish, organized, and vicious.
Visitors to the station are often traveling to an appointment with The Anima Foundation, an endeavor which requires considerable personal wealth. While on station, they enjoy the entertainment provided: a nearly hedonistic level of amusements and leisure.
Orwellian level: medium
Law level: high
As the capital of the Consortium, Tau Station has a level of order that is the envy of the many stations still struggling to rebuild from the Catastrophe. The location of the Consortium's home office, the organization uses Tau Station as the base from which it spreads forth and expands into the universe. To combat the ever-persistent threat of terrorism, and due to concerns about another disaster, the Consortium's military is strong and mighty, and their home base reflects this might, with guards and security enforcement cameras everywhere. Punishment for breaking Consortium law is swift and merciless. While many enjoy the affluence and security afforded to those residing on the station, others still struggle to eke out some semblance of a life in the Red Zones, which are filled with slums and ruins, left over from the time of the Catastrophe.
Orwellian level: high
Law level: high