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The historic files are provided as a point of reference for the game universe and background information for the single player storyline. A real story-driven single player campaign is a long term objective of the project, and in the meanwhile it serves as an aide to place the player in the game universe.
| Exodus | 0 AE |
| The Year of War | 480 AE |
| The Karelian Incident | 510 AE |
| Today | 545 AE |
Note to the reader:
Before the Great War, the systems controlled by the Great Houses were referred to as The Colonies, the term Borderworlds was used to refer to independent systems. In more recent times, the term Borderworlds has been used to indicate systems destroyed during the war, while the term Colonies is generally used as abbreviation for Independent Colonies. The systems controlled by The Great Houses are usually referred to as the Central Planets.
History of mankind is a tale mostly written in blood and fire. Although there are few written accounts of the events before the Exodus, it wouldn't be hard to imagine why the Homeworld would have been abandoned in the first place: wars for power, territory and resources would be commonplace for almost five centuries to come.
For the Tsu-Khan, this war was no different. About a century ago, The Empire had depleted most of its natural resources and had launched an ambitious project to find a suitable new homeworld.
At the time, most of the human population was ignorant about the presence of alien lifeforms in their galaxy. The scant pieces of evidence that did exist were kept secret by the political leaders. The Colonies were controlled by several Major Houses, each with their own agenda's and changing alliances. None of the House Lords had the motivation to order a thorough investigation into a mad man's testimony of outer world creatures.
The war came without warning. Near Kor Telos, on the edge of known space and outside the jurisidiction of the great houses, two new colonies had been founded. The settlers were finishing the construction of their hyperspace jump gate, to connect the system to allied borderworld systems. Unfortunatly, the Tsu-Khan Empire had located a suitable planet just a few parsec away.
The Andros colony was the first to fall. It didn't take the Tsu-Khan battle group very long to destroy the defenceless setlement. By the time they arrived at the Corthio colony, the colony had scrambled any battleship it could find to fend the invasion. The Colonial fleet was no match for the superior Tsu-Khan ships. In a few hours, the battle was over, and the Corthio colony had been reduced to ashes.
The story repeated itself across the Borderworlds. These independent worlds were usually inhabited by pacifist who had escaped the turmoil of the central planets or had a mutual understanding with one or more of the great houses. The Tsu-khan did not care, and the majority of the Bordesworlds was utterly obliterated. What remained was a few primitive settlements scattered across the smoldering remains of the Borderworld planets.
The relations between the Borderworlds and the Major Houses were strained with conflicts of interest. The central planets usually didn't care unless some economical or strategical advantage was involved. Slowly the Houses got drawn into the the war, and after almost a year of hostilities most of the House Lords found their armies involved in a full-scale war. A war, they realised, they couldn't win.
With the Borderworlds out of the way, and the Tsu-Khan fleet at the border of every Major House, there wasn't much they could do to oppose the Empire. In this darkest of hours a secret meeting took place that turned the fate of history. On a small, neutral planet, near the centre of the Colonies, a number of small ships met in secret, each ship carrying one of the remaining House Lords.
This small planet used to be the stage for the House Council, by then a long forgotten tradition, where the Lords of the Major Houses used to work out their differences with dialog, or discuss current events. In the years before the Great War, this tradition had been neglected and oposing views were usually solved with a friendly border skirmish followed by a royal monetary compensation.
These times were over. This war wasn't about money, power or territory. It was about survival and it was clear by now that none of the Major Houses possessed sufficient strength to fight the Empire on its own. A new alliance was formed and it was decided that it should not only include the Major Houses, but also any independent system that was still capable of fighting. The Lord of House Lindblade, who's territory had been on the front line since the beginning of the war, and considered as moderate amongst the House Lords, proposed to assemble a fleet in the Lindblade system to prevent the Empire from gaining a foothold in the Central Systems.
Within days, the largest fleet in human history had united under one banner. Out of fear, out of hope, but most of all, out of desperation. A news reporter from the era described it as ".. an overwhelming sight of the End of Times, but unlike the descriptions of Armegeddon in the Ancient Scripture, a sight with a sense of honour and dignity ..." and ended his report with the question if they really had any chance against such a formidable enemy. Battleship after battleship graciously drifted in formation, and everyone on board, from crewman to captain, knew this had to be the final stand.
When the Empire's vast intelligence informed the Tsu-Khan Emperor of this unexpected turn of events, humanity's fate seemed sealed. The orders where quick and decisive: regroup the fleet and prepare to engage the humans. Once dispatched it would take care of the alliance fleet and end human opposition once and for all. The war would be over soon and the Alliance's systems would under the Empire's control.
It is said that even the smallest person can change the course of the future, and in this case, it was a lonely scientist in the Anara system. His work involved the meaning of life, the universe and related subjects, and ignoring the dangers of the war was his way of dealing with the situation. His latest experiment required him to pilot a tiny and almost unpowered vessel into the Anarian nebula, where he could conduct measurements of the small variations in the local hyperspace field.
He was performing another scan of the sector when suddenly his instruments went off the scale. To his amazement he suddenly found himself on the edge of the area where the alien fleet had decided to regroup and refuel before they sneaked into Alliance Territory. The small vessel, barely powered and only slightly larger than an emergency life support pod, used the high levels of radiation in the nebula to elude the Tsu-Khan sensors and send a warning message the Alliance Fleet.
With the help of the detailed scientific information about the nebula, the Alliance managed to jump right on top of the unsuspecting Tsu-Khan fleet. Within minutes, the Imperial Flagship, primary target of the assault, had taken massive damage and was burning in the flames of explosive decompression. It was at the heart of the fleet when it exploded, and most of the heavy fighters and cruisers were hit by the shockwave and the massive rain of high-speed metallic debris behind it. Some managed to retreat to Tsu-Khan space, most fell victim to the united firepower of the Alliance fleet.
News of the victory spread through the Colonies like fire, and the battle became legendary before the Alliance fleet had even returned home.
A few years prior to the war, a Praetorian deep-space scout had discovered a remarkable derelict: a massive ship, abandoned for ages, battered by millenia of meteorite showers and high-energy radiation. Its technology was beyond anything mankind had ever devised and unfortunatly, far beyond the understanding of even the brightest of scientist,
The ship's propulsion system was of particular interest: while it seemed to operate on the same basic principles as a standard hyperspace jump drive, the design had a number of enhancements that challenged the boundries of theoretical physics. Some advanced models predicted this engine would be capable of almost instantanious travel across vast distances, without evem the need for hyperspace jump holes.
This kind of technology would give anyone a decisive military advantage over his rivals and Praetorian scientists vigorously attempted to duplicate the technology. Initially results where promising, but after a large-scale accident the research was considered too dangerous and abandoned.
The war changed many things, including experiments in search for advanced technologies to aid in defeating the enemy. In the spirit of the new found alliance, the experimental jump drive was transfered from its Praetorian storage to the Lindblade shipyards in the Burton system.
While the jumpdrive was stabilized, a ship would be constructed to carry this miracle technology.The requirements were outrageous to say the least. But facing imminent defeat, no effort was spared to gain even the slightest advantage. In less than 6 months a new ship was constructed and equiped with the experimental drive unit.The ship was an impressive sight: thousands of meters of neutronium-enforced carbosteel, tens of thousands of metric tonnes of superconductors and optronics, a monument to human ingenuity and an instrument to survival.
This ship was christened 'Osirion'.
The ship's first test flight was a major event. Most secret projects did not generate a lot of attentention, but this flight was a higly anticipated by the top brass from all parties involved: military, political and corporate alike.
The ship had left the construction yard as planned and had almost arrived at departure point on the edge of the star system when suddenly all communication was lost. Extensive investigations after the incident have never revealed the source of the malfunction, and everything that happened after this point is the result of long-range sensor telemetry.
Sensors hat detected the ship arriving at the departure point and the flight continued as planned. A few moments later a massive energy discharge was registered, indicating the experimental jump drive was activated. Unfortunatly, the order to return to the point of departure after the initial jump, seems to be a part of the plan that never got executed. The ship had literally vanished into thin air.
The top brass was very upset.
Alexandria outpost, jewel of the south, or queen of the wasteland, as some higher placed officials like to call it off-the-record. They were probably right too. The wasteland probably referred to planet Ghant, a lifeless chunk of rock holding the outpost in a stationary orbit. Unless you had some pressing matters to handle, this was a part of space you would rather avoid. The only kind of people you could find here were people doing business and people who needed to dissapear from public appearance. Or both.
The local custom was to mind your own business, and that was exactly what I was looking for: minding my own business. My life on the central planets had become far more complicated than I had planned for and it was time for a change: I managed to get a loan from the local planetary bank and spend it on the aquisition of a small transport vessel.
The first day of my new life as a spaceship captain. Not the glorious life I had gotten used to, but at least a decent one with its small pleasures once in a while. The small room I rented above the local bar almost felt like home. After I left the central planets, I ended up on Alexandria outpost where the local bartender was kind enough to offer me a job in his modest establishment. He probably did it more out of sympathy then anything else, but as it turned out, I'm great at doing the dishes and I always enjoyed our conversations. That is, until last week, when I ran into Mister Brent.
Ages ago, we used to work in the same building and he must have recognized me. I was sitting at the bar when he suddenly tapped on my shoulder. My memories of him were vague, but as he sat down, I ordered him a drink. We had some chit-chat, shared a few memories of distant times, but it didn't take hime very long to come to the point.
Mister Brent was the business type. "The rising star of the Regula mining operations, overseeing all shipments of niobium in the Ghant system", to quote his words. His phrases like "A smart man could make a fortune" sounded rather hollow to me, but he did have a point. 500 runs to Regula to pay the loan for the ship. Another 1500 more to get myself a ship big enough to hold a small cabin with all the luxuries a simple life would need.
Repetetive? Boring? Perfect! Add an autopilot and this life could be more relaxing then a luxury vacation on an exotic planet. With this simple business but rock-solid plan laid out in front of me I managed to convince the manager of the local planetary bank to provide me with the necessary funds for my operation, which I quickly exchanged for Micron Corporation's latest Vector model. It's a small ship: the cockpit, a living compartment with a sleeping corner and a cargo hold just big enough to hold a few metric tons of whatever the owner had in mind. All it missed was a pair of blasters to shoot the mosquitos from the windshield.
That would have added another 50 runs to the price.
The first two runs went smooth. Nothing unexpected. Pick up supplies at Alexandria, fly all the way to the Regula mining operation station, exchange the supplies for a shipment of karpax ore and head back. I had just hit the impulse drive with the third load in my cargo hold when I noticed something out of place.
A blip. And a big one too. No civilian vessel had an EM radar signature that powerful. I peered through the windows and as planet Ghant grew bigger on me I could clearly distinguish a second bright spot next to the familiar one Alexandria had become to me. I quickly requested the computer for an identification and it didn't take it very long to come up with an answer. Battleship Custodian. Colonial Militia registration number CM-2542. It must have jumped in when I was docked at Regula.
Curious. While the Ghant system was officialy under the jurisdiction of the colonies, nobody had any real business here. Niobium was without doubt a valuable commodity, but since there was no real shortage of the oremy guess was that the military's interests would lie elsewhere. For now, I decided to ignore the matter. I wasn't about to meddle into military affairs and let unfortunate circumstances ruin my life again.
Nevertheless it was hard to ignore the massive battleship looming over the outpost, but I docked and went straight to the bar. The bartender looked at me as I walked in and pointed me to my regular place at the bar. "I'll be right back", he said, and disappeared into the kitchen compartment. As on most quiet evenings, the regular customers were kind enough to leave my seat unocupied and it didn't take the familar surroundings long to ease my exited mind into a more relaxes state. "Here you are, one cup of steaming hot chocolate milk. I'm not sure how or where you got it, but I am sure it is the real deal. No one would get it into his mind to synthesize anything without having an actual market for it."
As usual, my bartender was right, and that was exactly why I liked this stuff, even if it costed a small fortune. "But then again", he continued and turned has eyes towards the large space window at the other end of the bar, "life can be full of surprises."
It was hard for him to hide his unsettledness. "I just had a talk with the station supervisor and the commander of that battleship floating out there". "The Custodian", I replied. "I had the ship computer run an ID on it". "You'd better take care of that fancy new ship of yours", he said. "They were here to inform me that the Colonial Militia has decided to assign a detachment to the Ghant system, effective immediately. All fleet operations in the system will be under the command of the battleship Custodian. They also dropped some kind of communication sattelite in the center of the system. God knows what these guys are up to."
The military is always involved in business the common man would rather not know about, but I had to admit, it just didn't sound right. A battleship in the Ghant system was curious, but a more permanent presence didn't make any sense at all. I picked up the small metal spoon lying next to my cup and stirred my hot milk. "I wouldn't worry too much. They've probably discovered some interesting radiation in the neighbourhood and now they want to turn it into a weapon. You know these kind of people, if it goes kabooom, they immediately like it." "Besides", I continued, "the system has been quiet for months. I haven't seen a pirate in ages".
The tone in my voice couldn't hide my longing for more dangerous and exiting times, but those days were over. I had chosen a new path, and I was not about to ruin my plans because of a few curious events. I emptied my cup and wished the bartender good night.
I couldn't sleep that evening. I didn't know what troubled me more: the prospect of my new life, the memories of the old one, or the strange events of today. When a man is troubled, he has to start walking and with the silence of the night as a blanket, I got out of bed and went out on a stroll.
2 am standard colonial time. Nights in space are something to get used to: without the sun to rise and set, dusk and dawn become rather hollow definitions and only the clock dictates when it is time to go to sleep. Nevertheless, the atmosphere of the night still permiated the station: most of the establishments were closed and the sound of busy peoples voices was replaced by the quiet hum of the electrical installations.
I wandered aimless through the empty corridors until I reached one of the large space windows on the upper level. It was almost like the vast, empty space behind it was reaching out, trying to stir something in the back of my mind. I wasn't sure why but I could not shed the feeling that some event was about to unfold. I turned around to head back to bed when suddenly felt a faint tremor going through the station. It was hardly noticable and most people would probably ignore it, but I knew exactly what it was.
When a ship drops from hyperspace into normal space, it will send a small shockwave into the surrounding area. This is not a shockwave of something traveling through space, but rather a disturbance of the fabric of space itself, with a distinct rythmn an experienced pilot can easily recognize. I could have ignored it too and go back to sleep, but the intoxicating effect of the mystery dragged me back to the window.
A ship had arrived, and it had to be close. Hyperspace-tremors do not travel very far and it would take one hell of a pilot to make a jump this close to a gravitational well. The slightest miscalulation would have spread out his atoms over the face of planet Ghant. The bright moving spot between the stars had proven he was either very good, or very lucky.
The design of the ship was unfamiliar. It looked like some kind of a patrol craft, armed to the teeth and ready to defend itself if it were necessary. Fortunatly, it looked like the pilot had a more quiet evening in mind. In a gracious arc, he approached the station and soaring like a an eagle he started the final approached to the docking bay. A pleasant sight for anyone who could appreciate the finer arts of space flight.
By now it was almost 3 am and I was almost certain I was going to regret this nightwandering episode when my alarm clock would obnoxiously announce the next morning. Almost, because by now I had also learned that having no regrets and a strong focus on the task at hand was usually the wiser course of action. Right now, the task was finding some sleep.
I turned around, walked to the elevator at the end of the corridor and pressed the button. After a few seconds the doors opened with a joyfull chime and I stepped inside. "Level 3". The elevator seemed to consider my request when the doors finaly closed and it started moving down. I leaned casually against the back wall while my right hand was trying to catch the yawn escaping my mouth while the elevator control panel continued to count down the current level in large friendly letters. "5"... "4"... almost there... "3"... "2"...
It took a moment for reality to trickle through the veil of sleepyness, but it was quite obvious the elevator had passed my level and continued its journey downwards. There was only one thing down there: the docking bay, and I couldn't shed the awkward feeling it was a place I'd rather avoid at this particular moment. I pressed the emergency stop button on the control panel, to no avail.
"1"... "0" ..."-1, Docking Bay". The low, humming noise of the elevator ended abruptly and the doors opened again.
The warm, arid air of the docking bay filled the elevator. Contemporary generator technology tends to ionize the atmosphere and the distinct smell of a recently landed ship was noticably present. Outside the elevator, the corridor leading towards the landing zone stretched out, the docking bay hidden behind the left turn at the end.
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