WishBone
One who walks between the physical and the digital
- Local time
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I shudder to think of an age where we once looked up at the stars thinking that we thought gods dwelled there in the black looking down upon that pale blue dot of existence, our home along with the more terrifying lessons that we as a species would endure. When the first of many space gates opened giving us a path to deep space, we thought ourselves taking those precarious steps towards finding answers and why we were alone in the universe. Little did we know we were just learning to stand as a species and for all our advancements paled in what we needed to accomplish to survive in this inhospitable place known as space.
First came what many call as the first collapse, after a century of progressive expansion, colonisation and a golden era of trade, prosperity and growth. The gate outside of earth exploded, tearing through our planet from pole to pole, splitting our ozone defensive layers. The result destabilized our moon and in the months then years began the great exodus from Earth. Earth itself became a graveyard of collapsed ruins and much older technology than what we had now. While some of it was worthless, the rare amounts had been easily picked clean in the century after. The next, just as we were picking ourselves up was known as the Second Exodus, where artificial intelligences became self aware and no longer indentured slaves.
Both sides had human sympathisers and the price of war left colonies in disarray, massacres caused by both sides to which now - only scars remain and what wounds remained etched upon the psychies of those who dared survive. Battlegrounds became mass graveyards and other events turned into snapshots frozen in time. Lost to what failures or catastrophic incidents that only the dead kept in vidlogs, or rumoured ghost stories. Corporations now control key flow and ebb of things between colonies, governments control to an extent areas and law and lawlessness go hand in hand for solid cash for bounties. That is if you bring them in alive.
Then you have those rare few who own their ships, whether inherited overtime or traded between wealthy families as dowries. Mine, I won it in a game of scratchies, tickets you whittle away at for a few creds here and there.
Just a routine shift - watching the white lines of blurred starlight streakpast the projected outside from live camera feeds, nowadays with windows being a luxury you did better with a camera giving you a live feed of the outside world. Feet resting against the hard wall, curled up on my pilots chair - a steaming cup of instacoffee mix, and what or what we were doing out here was a routine - no questions asked grab the salvage and drop it off. As for what it was, it was a relic - a battered ship from before the collapse of which many would pay a limb or sell their own mothers for. As for the crew, well, funny thing that - while I may have won the ship and its ownership. I was still apart of the crew and not an officer, so, with all of us in the same line of work looking for both easy money moving x to Y and sometimes z.
What could possibly go wrong for all twenty of us.
Next thing, I woke up in the medical wing alarms screaming and medical staff blathering.
Then came the pain. Then I was put in a pod and then - I woke up back to silence.
Idea and synopsis:
Space horror at its finest.
Something goes down, you wake up and everything has changed. Piecing what has occurred is the first part, surviving is what should really take precedence.
First came what many call as the first collapse, after a century of progressive expansion, colonisation and a golden era of trade, prosperity and growth. The gate outside of earth exploded, tearing through our planet from pole to pole, splitting our ozone defensive layers. The result destabilized our moon and in the months then years began the great exodus from Earth. Earth itself became a graveyard of collapsed ruins and much older technology than what we had now. While some of it was worthless, the rare amounts had been easily picked clean in the century after. The next, just as we were picking ourselves up was known as the Second Exodus, where artificial intelligences became self aware and no longer indentured slaves.
Both sides had human sympathisers and the price of war left colonies in disarray, massacres caused by both sides to which now - only scars remain and what wounds remained etched upon the psychies of those who dared survive. Battlegrounds became mass graveyards and other events turned into snapshots frozen in time. Lost to what failures or catastrophic incidents that only the dead kept in vidlogs, or rumoured ghost stories. Corporations now control key flow and ebb of things between colonies, governments control to an extent areas and law and lawlessness go hand in hand for solid cash for bounties. That is if you bring them in alive.
Then you have those rare few who own their ships, whether inherited overtime or traded between wealthy families as dowries. Mine, I won it in a game of scratchies, tickets you whittle away at for a few creds here and there.
Just a routine shift - watching the white lines of blurred starlight streakpast the projected outside from live camera feeds, nowadays with windows being a luxury you did better with a camera giving you a live feed of the outside world. Feet resting against the hard wall, curled up on my pilots chair - a steaming cup of instacoffee mix, and what or what we were doing out here was a routine - no questions asked grab the salvage and drop it off. As for what it was, it was a relic - a battered ship from before the collapse of which many would pay a limb or sell their own mothers for. As for the crew, well, funny thing that - while I may have won the ship and its ownership. I was still apart of the crew and not an officer, so, with all of us in the same line of work looking for both easy money moving x to Y and sometimes z.
What could possibly go wrong for all twenty of us.
Next thing, I woke up in the medical wing alarms screaming and medical staff blathering.
Then came the pain. Then I was put in a pod and then - I woke up back to silence.
Idea and synopsis:
Space horror at its finest.
Something goes down, you wake up and everything has changed. Piecing what has occurred is the first part, surviving is what should really take precedence.
