Sanya
Master-procrastinator
So I've got this idea...
You've grown up with the Leader's name on your lips and a microchip on the back of your head, just like the rest of your kind. You and the Earthlings, K'Zara and the purple-skinned Tarkonians, Kito and the vigorous and mighty Quartzmers - all together, all united, all equal in the eyes of the Empire. For years it's been everything you could dream of. K'Zara was a tender and beautiful woman, and Kito was a faithful and caring friend. The Empire was strong, grew stronger everyday, and there was no stopping its endless expansion. Drones looked after you, police robots kept you safe, and it should have remained this way for the rest of your life.
But you started remembering things. It didn't make any sense, and a terrible headache stole your peaceful sleep.
A sharp, awkwardly colorful image, a flare of encrypted memory, a spark of long forgotten childhood - you remembered a spaceship, so shiny and glorious that you froze in awe at its mere sight, a miracle of machinery with four silver wings and eight roaring turbines, a massive maneuvering tail and a large, bright-yellow name on its left side. "B.O.S.S.-138". You remembered being almost six when it took off and never came back since.
You looked it up. The archives said it was a research ship. An accident in the Wild System left its crewmembers dead, the Empire stated. You didn't believe a single word.
Suddenly the feeling of safety was gone. Your blood ran cold whenever you saw a drone flying by. There was no escape from these lifeless eyes-scanners. You wondered if they could "shoot on sight". Probably. No. Definitely.
K'Zara didn't understand. In fact, she didn't even try to. She was so convinced the Empire would never commit a crime as horrible as lying to its people, she thought the government sacred, if not saint. You couldn't blame her. Her parents were members of the Consilium.
Kito did try, with all of his honesty. You left him concerned. Worried, even. "I know you miss your family," he said, "I miss mine too, but it won't get better if you keep looking for someone to blame."
It stuck with you. You did miss your family. That one and only person you were actually close to as a kid. The one who left with "BOSS".
You kept looking. Data on the ship,, on the "expedition" in the Wild Systems, on your relatives - mom dead, rest deleted. The drones were watching your every single step. K'Zara insisted you went for a rechipization to get your head clearer, but the existing itching mechanical demon in the nape of your neck messes with your brains enough for a lifetime. Kito brought some books from his gran's old library, but they were destroyed too. The parts about the Earth before the Empire came.
The headaches worsened. You fixed your father's rusty glider and flew to the spaceport, now a dump of dust and metal scrap, where you spent days looking for the parts of that silver-yellow battleship. Nothing. A recurring nightmare of trying to catch a ghost.
You read the Pledge of Allegiance recently and felt betrayed.
"The Empire gave me the future" by stealing my precious past.
"I serve it" and don't even know why.
"We are born with the right to think freely," because the Empire tells us so.
"Long live the Emperor. Long live the Empire."
Long live the Empire.
The Earth will die in hunger and poverty. So will Tarkon, and the Quartz planet, and everything else, but the Empire will live on their last breaths, building itself on their bones, and corpses, and obedience, and silence.
K'Zara noticed your quiet panic. She still advised the rechipization, but you felt scared. Kito was scared too, but you didn't want to drag him into your speculations. One of the oldest books mentioned revolution. You didn't tell anybody. But by this point, you finally knew.
"B.O.S.S.-138" was a revolutionary battleship. It's still out there, fighting for freedom, but the Empire got too good at covering it up. It shattered you for months. Searching the old spaceport. Building an inter-radio to look for signals from the outer space. K'Zara said you got twitchy, almost paranoid. She broke up with you. Kito... helped. A lot. But there wasn't much he could do.
Until you finally got a signal.
3:12 A.M.
Three dots. Three dashes. Three dots.
A faint, barely audible message. "...S.S.-13... ...lost contr... sole survivor... low on oxygen..."
And a crash at the spaceport, an explosion so loud the city was shaken to its underground core. Clouds of black smoke covered the dust. The smell of burning reached your window. The drones were there. The police robots got their orders to shoot the rebel and destroy the evidence. You knew the risks. But you couldn't let the survivor - if he survived the crash - to die like that.
But you started remembering things. It didn't make any sense, and a terrible headache stole your peaceful sleep.
A sharp, awkwardly colorful image, a flare of encrypted memory, a spark of long forgotten childhood - you remembered a spaceship, so shiny and glorious that you froze in awe at its mere sight, a miracle of machinery with four silver wings and eight roaring turbines, a massive maneuvering tail and a large, bright-yellow name on its left side. "B.O.S.S.-138". You remembered being almost six when it took off and never came back since.
You looked it up. The archives said it was a research ship. An accident in the Wild System left its crewmembers dead, the Empire stated. You didn't believe a single word.
Suddenly the feeling of safety was gone. Your blood ran cold whenever you saw a drone flying by. There was no escape from these lifeless eyes-scanners. You wondered if they could "shoot on sight". Probably. No. Definitely.
K'Zara didn't understand. In fact, she didn't even try to. She was so convinced the Empire would never commit a crime as horrible as lying to its people, she thought the government sacred, if not saint. You couldn't blame her. Her parents were members of the Consilium.
Kito did try, with all of his honesty. You left him concerned. Worried, even. "I know you miss your family," he said, "I miss mine too, but it won't get better if you keep looking for someone to blame."
It stuck with you. You did miss your family. That one and only person you were actually close to as a kid. The one who left with "BOSS".
You kept looking. Data on the ship,, on the "expedition" in the Wild Systems, on your relatives - mom dead, rest deleted. The drones were watching your every single step. K'Zara insisted you went for a rechipization to get your head clearer, but the existing itching mechanical demon in the nape of your neck messes with your brains enough for a lifetime. Kito brought some books from his gran's old library, but they were destroyed too. The parts about the Earth before the Empire came.
The headaches worsened. You fixed your father's rusty glider and flew to the spaceport, now a dump of dust and metal scrap, where you spent days looking for the parts of that silver-yellow battleship. Nothing. A recurring nightmare of trying to catch a ghost.
You read the Pledge of Allegiance recently and felt betrayed.
"The Empire gave me the future" by stealing my precious past.
"I serve it" and don't even know why.
"We are born with the right to think freely," because the Empire tells us so.
"Long live the Emperor. Long live the Empire."
Long live the Empire.
The Earth will die in hunger and poverty. So will Tarkon, and the Quartz planet, and everything else, but the Empire will live on their last breaths, building itself on their bones, and corpses, and obedience, and silence.
K'Zara noticed your quiet panic. She still advised the rechipization, but you felt scared. Kito was scared too, but you didn't want to drag him into your speculations. One of the oldest books mentioned revolution. You didn't tell anybody. But by this point, you finally knew.
"B.O.S.S.-138" was a revolutionary battleship. It's still out there, fighting for freedom, but the Empire got too good at covering it up. It shattered you for months. Searching the old spaceport. Building an inter-radio to look for signals from the outer space. K'Zara said you got twitchy, almost paranoid. She broke up with you. Kito... helped. A lot. But there wasn't much he could do.
Until you finally got a signal.
3:12 A.M.
Three dots. Three dashes. Three dots.
A faint, barely audible message. "...S.S.-13... ...lost contr... sole survivor... low on oxygen..."
And a crash at the spaceport, an explosion so loud the city was shaken to its underground core. Clouds of black smoke covered the dust. The smell of burning reached your window. The drones were there. The police robots got their orders to shoot the rebel and destroy the evidence. You knew the risks. But you couldn't let the survivor - if he survived the crash - to die like that.
Some things I expect from my partner (and by all means promise to offer in return):
- Big posts. Like "a couple of paragraphs" kind of big. I'm not going to count words/sentences, but I won't do one-liners and/or tolerate pieces of text written just to reach up the volume.
- Being literate is important.
- Initiative. Feel free to add to the world and the story as we progress in it.
- I love playing side characters. I'll gladly take on more than one role regardless of whether you do or don't do the same. But I'd love it if you also played some of the "sidekicks", it would make the RP more interesting for both of us.
- Don't reply to the thread, better shoot me a PM and tell me about yourself as a RPer. Preferences, requirements, questions, everything other than "Hi, I'm interested" goes.
- Big posts. Like "a couple of paragraphs" kind of big. I'm not going to count words/sentences, but I won't do one-liners and/or tolerate pieces of text written just to reach up the volume.
- Being literate is important.
- Initiative. Feel free to add to the world and the story as we progress in it.
- I love playing side characters. I'll gladly take on more than one role regardless of whether you do or don't do the same. But I'd love it if you also played some of the "sidekicks", it would make the RP more interesting for both of us.
- Don't reply to the thread, better shoot me a PM and tell me about yourself as a RPer. Preferences, requirements, questions, everything other than "Hi, I'm interested" goes.
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