Fallen Colony: Daedalus (Prologue)

[Kassaran]

Florida Starport
August 19^th, 2091
Vessel Launch Day
"All members of the Manifest Destiny, attention, all hands of the Colony-ship Manifest Destiny, please proceed slowly to the terminal marked C-21. Again, all members of the-"
The voice seemed to drone on forever. The giant corridor that all the members of the new Colony ship were currently living out of was packed. As the captain made his way through, he noticed some of the passengers talking,'Hopefully none of them think they will have time to talk on our voyage.'
It was going to be a long voyage indeed and most of the colonists were not even going to get the chance to wake up and dance, or commit similar acts, they simply would be awoken from sleep, given a quick physical, and then sent back to sleep. There was nothing but open space to be had, everybody would soon be on-board and in deep space as well as deep sleep. The larger governments of the United Nations were funding this little trip and from what he could tell, intermixed with the colonists and crew were the delegates from the said nations, coaching on their people.
Though your ethnicity and nationality were not needed or required knowledge to board, it would make things easier simply in understanding where everyone was coming from. Alas though, no such interaction would occur. Most of the scientists coming out to Daedalus had their own agenda and would be down on the planet in large research teams. As he looked up at an overhanging balcony, he could see a detachment of 8 heavily armed and armored Colonial Guardsmen. Their massive rail-rifles slung over their shoulders, the Captain could tell they were all special forces troopers of some kind, maybe a Russian-American Joint Military Operation? Meh, no time for speculation, soon the launch would be occurring, and though these people here would be in stasis by that time, he would have to be awake along with the other five men of his shift. The crew, as it would turn out, would be sleeping in shifts lasting a year, each crew was made of three men and three women. The crew, once awake, would return to sleep after their year was up, and another one of the ten crews on-board would take over.
Outside, he could see the long slingshot for a runway that they would be taking in a shuttle to orbit. Four shuttles were each lined up on the tarmac, waiting to be placed into their lanes and then launched. Though the runway usually only launched one-at-a-time, the shuttles were going to be scheduled for tandem flight, meaning they both would be taking off and flown, side by side, into orbit to save on time. The "Manifest Destiny" was up there, waiting. On a massive view-screen on the far side of the terminal, the Captain could see her mired at the orbital shipyards, waiting to deploy. Shuttles and orbital taxis were floating about her as repair teams and engineering teams gave her a final total once-over. They were nearing the end of their inspection. Part of the responsibilities of the crew that would awaken would be to conduct such inspections weekly on the ship's hull. Though an all-day job for the two-person groups, it would be simple enough to achieve and maintain the vessel. If any hull degradation that was unexpected occurred, the ship's Captain would be woken to assess the situation and then determine whether or not the ship is stable enough to continue.
Then, on the view-screen, the lights along the "Manifest Destiny" lit up and the spotter lights also came on, highlighting her name in bright 3-watt LED lighting. Yes, a very distinguished name in ten meter high letters stretching 85 meters along the goose's neck of the ship's hull. The people in the crowd cheered and soon champagne was being served.
'Of course the only seemingly appropriate celebration for these people would be alcohol.' thought the Captain as he turned and left the room.

OOC: Welcome to the Fallen Colony: Daedalus chat room, if you have not registered to fly with us aboard the Manifest Destiny on her momentous first voyage to an alien world, then please, by all means, head to the following link: http://forum.nationstates.net/viewtopic.php?f=31&t=264543.

If you have already signed up for this RP, this is a way to introduce your character as they would react in a normal, non-stressful (or perhaps depending on your character a rather stressful) environment and to get used to my methods of RPing. I also do this to see how active people will be. Thank you for joining us and have a good flight!

[Les Fideles Al-Hajji]

“Death infects you. Its stains your soul. After being around it for long enough, you can feel it. The haunting stench crawls through the deepest recesses of your memory. The dreams are the worst part. Constant, intense, ever present in the back of your mind. And you never forget their faces, those scared soldiers who pleaded save me. But they could see it in your eyes that you knew they were going to die,” Ellen paused for a few seconds. She sighed and ran her fingers through her greasy hair. The white sleeping shirt she was wearing was drenched in sweat, and she was eager to finish the journal and take a shower. “Of all the things I remember about the massacre on Aurora. I remember that goddamn cave the clearest. Three months in that despicable hell hole. I never slept more than thirty minutes at a time. The wounded just kept coming in. We shoved them all together, there were so many. Hundreds of men, 18- 24, maimed and massacred in the name of what? Land? Resources? I saw those boys, children really, scream for their mothers. For god. For anything that would help them. Oh god, the screaming. It lasted all night, every day. I can still hear them. At the end, when I got out of there, I had not slept in over two weeks. I had nearly overdosed on adrenaline, and all I wanted to do was sleep.” Again Ellen paused as she searched her mind for the words. After two minutes she closed the audio journal in frustration.
As she did so her computer displayed the message “File submitted to: Doctor Olivia Grimsdotter, Office of Post-Combat Psychology.”
Ellen undressed and tossed her shirt to the ground. She stepped into the shower and let the water wash over her for almost a half hour. When she emerged from the shower she quickly dried off and went back into the bedroom. She glanced down at the clock. “Still another five hours until my car arrives,” she thought bitterly. Beside the bed was a large sliding glass door that obstructed the view of the elongated walk in closet. Ellen stepped over her packed luggage and slid the door open slowly. As the door slid fully open the lights clicked on illuminating two rows of identical BDU uniforms. She passed them all to the end of the closet where two fresh, pressed dress blue uniforms hung proudly on the wall.

First she dropped the towel, then dawned the uniform. The last button clicked with a definite snap and she turned to face the mirror. “Professional,” she thought before her gaze dropped down to the rack of medals and combat ribbons. A disgusted grunt escaped her lips, and she quickly pivoted and left the closet. Now back in the room she moved slowly over to the desk and picked up a small black, leather bound legal note pad. Inside was many sheets of white paper, and a small case of various artistic pencils. Her adept dexterity gave her the gift of being an amiable artist, along with an exceptional surgeon.

With the pad in hand she returned to the bed, and began sketching cartoon figures. Mostly former commanding officer, with some close friends and politicians thrown in. Drawing cartoons had actually been an idea suggested by her therapist, Doctor Grimsdotter. It was a cathartic exercise that focused her attention, and actually gave her no small amount of pleasure. For the next several hours she drew until a sharp knock at the door drew her back into reality. The knock was followed by “Commander Clarke, your vehicle has arrived.” With her free hand she grabbed her luggage, and in one motion rose from the bed and moved quickly over to the door. She stopped midway, and her notepad fell from her hand. Both hands were shaking, and a small bead of sweat appeared on her forehead. “Not now,” she whispered angrily through her teeth and reached into her pocket. Her hands still shaking, she removed a small pen like syringe and after a few tries managed to inject it into her arm.

“Commander, Are you ready?,” the voice called again. This time more aggressively.
“Yes,” her voice cracked slightly, “I am opening the door now.” Quickly she tucked the syringe back in her pocket, picked up the pad, and made it over to the door. When she opened it a large, uniformed officer was waiting for her.

“The car is waiting downstairs ma’am. It will take you directly to your shuttle. From there you will be taken to the Manifest Destiny .”

“Thank you Captain,” she saluted and began towards the elevator.


The entire journey to the space port was spend in silence. In the car with her were various high ranking officers, and a few other people of importance. Scientists mostly. She drew the entire way there, not even stopping when they exited the car to board the shuttle. The only point she was forced to stop was when the guard at the front desk asked for her identification number.

“Lieutenant Commander Clarke, Ellen 330-01A-4,” she looked up from the booklet and stated authoritatively.

The soldier saluted, “have a good flight ma’am. Good luck, and Godspeed.”

She nodded, and without further discussion walked further into the terminal.

[Corucopia II]

Beep! Beep! Beep! went the alarm clock located on the end table of Kane's hotel room. He slowly turned over to see that the clock read 5:00 A.M. He sat up in the bed and grabbed the clock off the table and turned it off. He looked around the room Today was the day he thought. Upon receiving conformation that he had been selected to go on the Voyage of Manifest Destiny he quickly sold his house and almost all of his possessions keeping only the essentials, a picture of his deceased wife Jane, and his best friends dog tags. Kane slowly got out of bed and made his way to the shower. He undressed and slowly stepped in. He turned the water to the highest temperature possible and allowed himself to be engulfed in the warmth of the water and steam. "Last one for 600 years." He chuckled to himself. As he sat in the shower he began to reflect on his past and all the decisions he had made. He thought of his best friend Markus Valenkov whom he met in the service and whose dog tags he now keeps. He thought of how he should have just told him to stay down. How if maybe he were stronger he could have saved him. Kane's thoughts slowly drifted from his friend to his late wife Jane. He thought of how she had been suddenly removed from his life when he needed her most. He often thought of what loving god would allow cancer to ravage the body of such a loving and gentle woman. Kane regained composure and reminded himself that the past is the past and there is nothing he can do to change it. Then he proceeded to brush his teeth and go through the normal morning routine. Now fully dressed he looked over at the clock. It read 7:00 A.M. he still had a few hours before any one would arrive to pick him up to bring him to the dock. So he decided to go for a nice walk around the park. As he casually strolled through the park enjoying the fresh air he wondered what this new planet would be like. What way could life have developed on this foreign planet so far away from the Earth. After a good thirty hour and a half Kane returned to his hotel room for the last time. He threw what he knew he would need in his pack and then pulled out his computer and began reading the latest article about the structure of DNA in a silicon based life form.

After two hours Kane heard a loud knock upon his door. "Doctor Kane Lorenzo, are you in there?" came a voice from beyond the door.

"I am. Give me a minute will ya?"

"Please hurry sir as we a on a tight schedule." said the voice in a frustrated manner.

Kane looked around the room. Its funny he thought, I'm actually going to miss this place. Kane grabbed the book off the end table along with the picture of Jane and his best friends dog tags. He stepped out the door for one last time, took a deep breath and stepped into the vehicle.

Feeling antisocial Kane stuffed his nose in his book for a better part of the ride. As he examined the people he was surrounded by he felt somewhat out of place and different from these people.

Upon arrival at the dock he stepped out onto the loading bay. He was baffled at the sheer amount of people here. Most were just nobodies, worker bees of unimportance but like the worker bees each was essential to the mission. He stepped forward to the front desk. "Identification number please" said the guard.

"920-01A-8 ma'm" he politely replied.

"Well I wish you the best of luck on your journey Mr. Lorenzo."

"Yea thanks." he said. Kane then took one last look behind him and walked into the terminal. Luck he thought, I'm gonna need it.

[Les Fideles Al-Hajji]

Ellen knew when she signed up that this mission would be a massive undertaking, but now that she was faced with the hordes of scientists, engineers, and various other colonists it was finally dawning on her how many people would actually be involved. A shrill electronic voice disrupted her concentration "All members of the Manifest Destiny, attention, all hands of the Colony-ship Manifest Destiny, please proceed slowly to the terminal marked C-21. Again, all members of the Colony-ship Manifest Destiny, please proceed slowly to the terminal marked C-21 ".

“Well, I guess that answers my next question,” she sighed. For a moment she tried to get her bearings. Around her the sound of people, vehicles, and other announcements blended together in a deafening cacophony. It was amazing she had understood the first announcement. She took a few seconds to mentally drown out the noise, then set off toward Terminal C-21. The terminal was extraordinarily easy to find. Illuminated signs had been hung on every wall, each advertisement space, and banners from the ceiling “Manifest Destiny passengers this way”.

When she finally arrived in the terminal it was much like the area where she had first entered the space port. Hundreds of people were all milling about, talking, moving objects, and completing various tasks. Several stores and eateries lined the walls, and most of them were full occupancy. In fact, there was hardly even just a place to sit and wait. Ellen sighed again and placed the black legal pad on top of her luggage. Now hands free, she removed a small brush from the side pocket and brushed her short brown hair. It was as much a compulsive reaction as an actual desire to fix her appearance.

When she was satisfied with her hair, Ellen again began searching for a place to sit. Eventually she spotted two seats beside a group of rowdy enlisted men. Lieutenant Commander Clarke knew the entire group could not have been younger than 18. Being a battlefield doctor she had seen men younger than them bleeding, screaming for help, in some god forsaken hole. Darker memories of combat began to surface in her mind so she immediately stowed her brush back in her bag and went over to sit down. At first the ensigns didn't notice her presence, but as soon as they did the fun ceased. An eerie zone of silence enveloped the small area in the midst of such deafening noise.

Again she buried her attention in the sketch book, but she could feel their gaze. Although she couldn't hear them clearly, they began to whisper fiercely back and forth. Some words she was able to understand "is that? ------nder Clarke? She---------------on Aurora. ---------- she---- dead". It didn't take much for her to piece together what they were talking about. At this point the group of sailors was making no attempt to hide the fact they were staring, until she shot a glance at them that could have frozen molten metal. There was an audible sound as all of them slammed back into their seats. Without much success they tried to appear as if nothing had happened.

Ellen could have easily pulled rank and made them complete some humiliating task,but she wasn't vengeful by nature. It was also a saving grace, for the sailors, that so many people were present. Ellen detested making a scene. "If this happens on board the ship. I can guaran-damn-tee they will prefer the vacuum as opposed to spending another moment with me," she thought with cynical satisfaction.

[Camicon]

"Alright, so, the loaders went up last week, fabrication kits the week before that, and fuel canisters went up yesterday. We don't have any major bugs popping up with systems integration, simulation software is up to date and running smoothly. Anything else?" Sharon 'Scooti' Manista looked over top of a tablet at the man standing in front of her.

"Spare uniforms, tools, and protective equipment are coming up with us, today. We'll need to make sure those are secured in the cargo hold before we go into stasis."

"Everyone has still got their personal kits though?"

"As far as I know, yes, ma'am."

"Good. I want a double check before we go up. Now go make sure nobody is wandering off, or hitting up the bar. Day's not done yet, and we've still got work to do."

"Yes ma'am."

As she watched the young man disappear into the crowd, Scooti blew a sigh of relief. She, and the people under her command, had only arrived on site at the Florida Starport a week ago. They weren't needed to load the Manifest Destiny, and familiarizing themselves with the systems and their duties could be done largely via the information packages they had all received (and continued to receive daily) when they had been chosen to crew Destiny. Most of the personnel had spent the week making sure their affairs were squared away, and getting to know each other. Scooti had spent hers issuing commands, and asserting her position of authority as well deserved. Being a fair bit younger than many of the men she would be overseeing, and a woman to boot, made placing her in a position of authority tenuous at best. A good strong impression before they all went into stasis would do wonders towards asserting her legitimacy as a leader, and give credence to the orders she gave.

When Scooti had been contacted by U.N. representatives to join the crew of the Manifest Destiny she had suspected that it would be as just another engineer. Possibly as a consultant, or project lead, but nothing more than that. It had shocked her when they told her that they wanted her as the Chief Engineer, overseeing the operations of the entire team once they hit planet side. Of course, she had jumped at the opportunity to be involved in such a momentous project. It would be nothing short of spectacular, though she did feel a twinge of sadness at all of the innovations the would be made on Earth, that she would miss. Establishing the colony would be a life time commitment; no turning back, and no second thoughts. About a month back, she had sold of all of her worldly possessions, and left the money to the care of a hedge-fund that would manage it in her absence. Eventually, provided the international economy didn't liquidate itself, that money would provide scholarships for engineering students world-wide. Also, on the off-chance that she ever returned, she would probably be a multi-billionaire.

Shaking such thoughts from her head, Scooti refocused her attention on the tablet she was holding. She was reviewing the Destiny's core systems: electrical, fuel lines, life support and the like. It was more to calm her nerves, than anything. Reassurance that the Destiny wouldn't catastrophically fail while she was in stasis.

[Corucopia II]

All members of the Manifest Destiny, attention, all hands of the Colony-ship Manifest Destiny, please proceed slowly to the terminal marked C-21. Again, all members of the Colony-ship Manifest Destiny, please proceed slowly to the terminal marked C-21 ". said the voice over the intercom. Kane began walking toward the terminal. Upon arriving at the terminal an insatiable hunger over took him. He made a bolt for the nearest food joint. After recieving his food he realized that there was absolutely no where to sit. Kane was beginning to give up on a spot when ho noticed a sigle open seat. He took advantage of this mad sprinted towards the seat and took it. He took no notice of the many people around him as he inhaled his meal. As he was wiping his face he looked up and noticed a rather attractive looking woman sitting across from him. He noticed that all of the men around her were staring at her. Well I might as well introduce myself kane thought. He then got up and began to approach the woman. He looked at her and with a pleasant smile he said "Hello ma'm. My name is Kane Lorenzo. And yours is?"

[Les Fideles Al-Hajji]

Ellen happily sketched on the drawing she had been working on the entire trip here. She was preparing to finish the final leg of the Mechanized warfighter when a voice drew her out of her concentration.
"Hello ma'am. My name is Kane Lorenzo. And yours is?

Without much thought she looked up at whomever was speaking to her. It was a man, dressed in a beige shirt, combat boots, and a red baseball cap. She decided almost instantly that this man wasn't military. Most likely a scientist or a engineer. Ellen's first impulse was to ignore whoever this was. A few years ago, it felt like a lifetime, she was quite the socialite, but as cliche as it sounds. Seeing mass graves of dismembered comrades has a way of changing you. She rose from her seat, fueled by the medicine in her system , and extended her hand. "Lieutenant Commander Ellen Clarke. I will be the Chief Medical officer about the Manifest Destiny."

She motioned for him to sit down in the unoccupied seat beside her. Being a naval officer did not allow her the privilege of being anti-social. Ellen needed to be able to communicate to other officers without incident, so she had become quite the actress. Each line carefully memorized, each social expectation carefully included to give the appearance of a healthy functioning person.

She returned to her sketching, only looking up every couple of seconds to make polite eye contact.

"So Mr. Lorenzo, what is your task on our voyage to the unknown?"

(sorry about the poor quality. I am having some serious writer's block)

[Kassaran]

The doors to the main hall opened, but not from the parking lot, but rather from the direction of the launch pad. The terminal had just become active. It was time to begin boarding the first shuttle.
"Attention. All passengers who have PIN suffix D-variable, are to now begin checking in to board the first shuttle up to the Manifest Destiny, please begin your sign-in processes now. Attention. All passengers who have PIN suffix D-variable, are to now begin checking in to board the first shuttle up to the Manifest Destiny." A loud computer voice chimed over the hall. People began to speak quickly now. For all leaving, this was the last time they would have to speak to anyone over trivial matters. A few family members for those leaving cried and waved their goodbyes to the few beginning to board the shuttle. Outside the terminal a roaring sound was heard as the first shuttle rolled up to the end of the terminal's umbilical and many watched as it slowly docked. This was it. The time to launch was now. Some of the sailors surrounding the two scientists in the cafe were called off. It looked like it would still be about an hour and forty minutes before launch, but at least the process had begun. Some of the people leaving burst into tears, others became silent. They all knew what this meant. This meant the last of Human contact for nearly 400 years. For a few of those people, that would wake up, it would seem only like a few days, but for others to be awake during the voyage to run the ship, it would take a few years. Vendors were beginning to close shop as UN armed guards escorted them out of the Terminal. Now the UN diplomats and representatives would begin to coach their people. Only a few nations had contributed men thus far, but at least it was going to be getting interesting here. No nation could be set up in a UN Colony as previously stated in the forming of the crew, so everyone would be out for themselves while simultaneously representing some of the nations of the UN.
Now on the big screen, it could be seen, the hull and partially finished ring of the Amerigo Vespucci Colony ship as well as the framework for the third colony ship in progress, the Marco Polo. A total of ten ships were being built. Floating around them, nestled in their small bays were cargo shuttles. One could be seen detaching and falling back down towards Earth. It would be landing soon at the starport in Houston. Estimated time of touchdown is 28 minutes.

[Corucopia II]

"Exo-Biology-" Kane said as he was cut short by the announcement to board the ship. "My area of expertise is exo-biology but I'm also the ships chief science officer." he continued as the lower ranked sailors around them cleared. God he thought I hope she is due to wake when I do. Kane truly enjoyed the woman's company. All those years of pain and loneliness he thought would never end and now seeing this woman he thought that this could maybe be the start of something new, something better. Of all the women he saw here he could honestly say that this woman was the best looking. She was beautiful and struck him as slightly mysterious, as if she was hiding something. But to him that made her all the more attractive. He had tried getting back into the dating scene about a year after the death of his wife but nothing worked. No relationship he pursued during that time had never lasted more that three weeks or less. He couldn't help but compare all those women to his late wife. This loneliness was one of the reasons he applied for the mission. He believed that if he could start all over and get far enough away he could forget about his past and focus on the future and the present. To him this trip was like hitting the refresh button and starting over.