Discovery Gaming Community - Symbolically Stained

Leeds - 828 A.S.

A misconception believed by the populations trapped on one of the many planetary bodies within the houses is that space travel was thrilling. Being in space was somehow the next frontier, a tangled mesh of nebulas and anomalies just out there to see and witness. While space was a view seen by a small percentage, it was by no means glorious.

Sirius was lucky in terms of being rich in nebulas, which stained the otherwise black canvass various hues from the whites and blues of the Barrier to the orange and yellows of the Walker. However, being born into such colourful skies dulls the impact of them. The inhabitants of Cambridge have seen the same night skies as the generations before them, even though the Barrier tears through like a long forgotten scar and the Walker nebula leaks out it's orange glow like a distant iridescent street light. It was the same. It was the expected.

Space flight was like that. When one first begins on a ship it seems like the most wonderful thing. However most only get to travel through space on cramped bulk passenger ships without so much as a view of what you're traveling through. If lucky enough to have a viewport that wasn't scratched or fogged, you would often only see a blur of colour as the ship rockets forward at cruise speeds. Worse yet if frequent trade lanes are taken.

These were the thoughts floating around the head of Riley Shaw as she strolled through amber lit corridors. She found this aspect of space flight entirely mundane. Simply moving from one place to another. There was nothing fancy about it and often times automatic navigation took care of the nuances of maneuvering through the void. Every aspect was optimized. Every aspect was so dreadfully monotonous.

At the end of the narrow passageway was two metal sliding doors, both in their closed positions. They sat staring at one another on opposing walls, the shared cornering wall housing a display describing what each lead to. To Shaw's left was the lower engine bay, to the right the switch back stairs leading upwards. Behind her was the observation platform, a meeting room with wide viewports. Such was where she came from, watching the Voids flow past.

She picked the left door, a touch of her hand letting it slide open with a hush of hydraulics. The humid air smacked her in the face as it always did, arresting her breath for a moment. She strolled in with a watery blink. The bay was alive, though there wasn't sight of a soul. She, however, already cracked this puzzle long before. As she avoided work cases and piles of piping her destination was the distant crook around the walled pipes and tubes that fed a massive coolant engine below. There she found what she was looking for.

"Nik'! What are you hiding for?" She beamed out. A figured hunched over a makeshift table jumped and let out a slew of curses.

Niklas Esser was the head engineer and looked all the part for it. A long grim face, short cropped brown hair that one could easily mistake as black framing high cheekbones clad in a thin beard. He wore olive overalls, a connecting jacket of the same colour slung over the corner of his desk. His cream coloured undershirt was damp with sweat. Esser glowered at Shaw.

"I'm working. Something you hardly do." He snapped back. Wells gave a mocking look of surprise and outrage which quickly turned to a grin afterwards.

She turned and leaned on his setup. The table was actually a discarded sliding door like she entered through. This one however was bent and scratched, allowing it to be retired to table top status. "You know I'm sidelined at times like these. What, you want me to look over my ship for the seventh time?" She pouted.

"Yes." Grumbled the engineer, attempting to get back to work. He quickly realized, as normal, Shaw wasn't going to let him get away that easily.

She picked up a screwdriver to play with, twirling it in her hands. "What are you doing in here anyway?" She asked, trying to make sense of his project.

On the table was what appeared to be a cube a foot in all dimensions. Half of said cube was opened like a box, inside were vials of murky brown liquid. It looked like a method to store some type of liquid. "Project for the captain."

"Was is it?"

"None of your business."

"Oh come on Nik'!" Shaw whined.

He pushed the cube aside, looking at her directly. "Are you just bored and here to irritate me?" He growled, annoyed now.

"Yah." Her reply surprised Esser. Normally there was more word play and dancing around the subject. His reaction caught her attention, she attempted to smooth it over.

"We're going There."

Realization crossed his face, a silent "Oh" made. Project forgotten, he turned and retrieved his metal stool which was toppled and abandoned until now. He set it upright and sat on it, the welds creaking with a whine at his weight.

"And what's wrong with that?" Esser asked her.

She shrugged. "It's well known I hate it."

"And?" He pressed.

Shaw's lips pursed. She considered her reply. "Nobody else cares when I say that. It's expected to hate it. But they don't care. It's that lack of... Of something that makes the whole thing excused."

"Lack of empathy?" Shaw nodded to Esser's guess.

He sighed and checked his time piece on the table. It would be ten standard minutes before they arrived. Grunting, he stood up and shoo'd her off the table and out of the way. Gathering his jacket and letting it hang in his hand, he led her back the way she came, out the door and right, along the long corridor to the observation platform.

A few others had gathered, standing by the ports to gaze out. A murky orange-brown haze slipped by, engulfing the view past a few meters. It was steadily clearing like a lifting fog. The duo took an empty spot to look out. The clouds cleared slowly revealing a dull sandy sphere. As time passed it grew slightly and details revealed themselves. Scars and impact craters coated portions while wild storms of soot, ash, and radioactive waste swirled and danced over a third of it. A barren storm torn planet. This was Planet Leeds.

The planet used to be home to billions of Bretonian civilians, an ecumenopolis of industry and one of the major backbones of the Kingdom of Bretonia. Only recently had the war ended with the Kingdom of Gallia who had enacted a scorched earth policy of devastating proportions as they retreated. Using massive planet cracking lasers, the planet was devastated. It was often referred as the "Glassing of Leeds" by those who were looking for a fight due to how handwavy the term came to be to the countless lost lives.

And here was the remains. A soft chime warned them to hold on, a moment later everyone on the deck lurched slightly. The view outside had stopped growing, they were still in space.

Shaw bit her lip as she gazed at the dead world. Esser wrapped an arm around her shoulder, a short squeeze. He looked down at her, expecting the normal sorrow displayed by the Bretonians after the calamity. Instead, once again surprising him, there was a flame of hatred in them. His tug tightened.

After ten minutes passed, a chime rung again. A lurch and the view outside swiveled, the smoggy clouds beginning to eat them whole once again. Esser and Shaw stayed at the window for a while after that.

Planet Leeds drifted from sight from the large visual ports of the bridge. Someone cut the digital picture of the devastated world from the main screen as well, as if their fading into the space-floating smog cloud meant all views of the planet were now closed off. As if turning away for the last time from an ex-lover.

The air hung with depression and loss, the bridge crew having even lowered their voices as they communicated updates back and forth. It was expected. Planet Leeds was home to many of the crew, or at least family or family origins. There was nothing more connecting than it's loss to a Bretonian, minus the deranged Dublin Mollys. A core aspect of their kingdom was gone. It would hurt for centuries.

A trio stood on the small command platform, leaning on the front rail. To the left was a female in a white formal suit. Her hair was braided tightly back and a loose kit in bleached white canvass was on the deck beside. Despite the gloom atmosphere, an aroma of floral scents wafted around her. Her hands rested on the metal rail, looking upwards as her mouth moved silently. A prayer, perhaps.

To her right was a taller male dressed in a crimson button up shirt and black long overcoat. Tight trousers we're ended in polished black dress shoes that clopped whenever he took a step. Of the three, his hands were held behind his back. His wizened intense stare looked forward at the many floating displays. He didn't seem bothered like the rest of the crew but understood the importance. He didn't speak since giving the confirmation to continue with their route and sink back into the smog cloud.

The third was crying. Unlike her companions she wore a simple grey jumpsuit and black work boots. She didn't dress up for this event. Her hair was pulled back into a tail which now hung over a shoulder as her bowed and hunched head leaked fluid onto the deck and rail. Nobody tried to comfort her, nor stop her. If one looked at most of the crew present, she wasn't the only one with tears in her eyes.

A minute or so passed and she stood up straight, wiping her face. The man in the middle offered a handkerchief which she took and quickly spoiled with salted water and snot. A breath, her emotions came under control. The event wasn't commented on. The culture of the crew seemed to be open to displays of emotion.

Risking a word, the jumpsuited woman spoke up. She found she had to restart her sentence as the first few words were blubbering nonsense. "We on course?"

The man nodded. "We are headed to the next waypoint, continued on roughly five minutes ago."

Five minutes she had lost to crying. "When will we be approachin' LD-14?" The jumpsuit woman said.

"Soon enough. Why don't you take a breather, Ward?" The man responded.

Mary Ward wiped her face again. She wasn't having any of that. "No sir. Ah am fine at my post."

"As you wish."

The third figure finally spoke up. "Captain, I however will be retiring soon. Need to be ready for the work ahead." She explained.

The man, the captain, responded. "Will we be ready for landing?"

"Indeed. The equipment is loaded onto the shuttles and we are just awaiting orbit."

"Good. Thank you, Doctor Wells."

The doctor dipped her head and turned to leave. Before she did a hand was placed briefly on Ward's shoulder. They shared brief smiles to each other before Wells departed the bridge.

"Why did we get this assignment again, Gel'?" She addressed the man.

Parlance Gellen sighed. Gellen adjusted his stance some, releasing the hands behind his back to grip the rail. Their world lurched slightly afterwards then calmed. He was the ship's captain in many forms of the word. He was an old aristocrat who fancied himself to be akin to an old Sol legend sea captain. Instead of water his domain was space. Even though he held air of a pompous self centered elder, he was held in high regard by the crew. Mary Ward was the only one who addressed him with a pet name.

Her question was something that he knew was coming. Both knew the answer, but it was about time to talk on it. To put it to words. "Because we failed running the blockade and cost more money than our budget allowed to get the Lochrath fixed."

"Hate that." Mary responded.

"I know. I know your thoughts too. That you should have been there." Gellen cut off her self-esteem from being self-destructive. "You needed time away. We told you to take it. I was going to order you off this ship anyway. I doubt you being here would have changed the outcome, though perhaps maybe with less damage."

Mary huffed, her argument stolen from her. The Lochrath, a Caliburn-Class destroyer was their ship and mobile home. Recently they were attempting to pass the Dublin System blockade through the New London trade route using the jumpgate and paid the price. Ward had been off the ship at the time on personal leave. She was the ship's quartermaster and not being there caused a lot of regret.

"When do we get there?" Ward asked again.

"Soon. Half a day, roughly. You can get some sleep." Gellen responded.

"Is that an order?"

"No. A suggestion. You have been awake for a while however and I need you rested for when we enter Edinburgh."

The logic was there and she couldn't argue against it. Instead she stated. "Wake me if anything happens."

"I shall, Mary."

Ward linger for a moment on the deck, gaze sweeping over the displays for any excuse to stay and fix something. There were none. She had spent the last eight hours fixing them already. She resigned and turned to leave. "You have the deck then, Captain."

He dipped his head to her as she exited and turned his gaze back to their flight through the void.

Edinburgh - 829 A.S.

Sirius contained many nebula clouds within it, the core reason it was decided as the destination of the sleeper ships. The main four and largest being named the Barrier, Crow, Walker, and Edge nebulas. Smaller nebulas exist generally in the form of outcroppings of the larger formations or pockets of dark matter storms. One region however exists in the northern reaches of House Bretonia that intersects with the Tau Sector. Its clouds coloured mixes of crimson, burgundy, and scarlet with the occasional mixed blues of ice from dislodged icy clouds originating from the nearby Barrier. This nebula and region is known as the Hebrides, it's hue staining the skies of the core Bretonian worlds a muddled red.

It was within the Hebrides that existed the twin sunned system of Edinburgh, a hotbed of activity in the last decade. The invasive war brought forth by the Kingdom of Gallia swept through and took control in their push into the nearby system of Leeds and later New London. However even after the war's end, the system remains active with conflict. In more current history, this conflict is focused on one of the two planets in the system named Gaia.

Planet Gaia was as its name describes. A world of Eden, a pristine world with healthy mixes of land and ocean, lush forests and jungles, grasslands, and near-perfect temperatures. A sanctuary, a planet much like old Earth but untouched by humanity. It was even discovered to be mineral rich in cobalt. It was perfect. It was a blank canvas untainted. But like all empty slates, it only took one brush stroke to spoil that perfection.

Bretonia is rife with pollutants and toxins released over its worlds by loosely regulated mega corporations such as Bretonian Mining & Manufacturing. Heavy smog choked the workers on New London and formally on Leeds when it had people to suffocate. The citizenry held a quiet campaign for better conditions but was vastly ignored or drowned out by marketing and political lobbying. Planet Gaia was the breaking point however. Bretonian Mining & Manufacturing wanted to establish themselves onto Gaia to strip mine the cobalt, starting the desecration of yet another world within Bretonia's grasp. That decision caused the quiet campaign to blossom into a full blown eco-terrorist movement to bring an end to the exploitation of their home worlds. Thus were born the Gaians.

Since such time, Gaia had remained untouched due to the Gaian efforts who used the planet as a beacon of hope, a symbol of what every planet could be if untouched by unregulated, corrupt corporations. However, this changed when the Gallic Royal Navy came.

The occupation of Edinburgh was harsh. As the war was ending, Planet Leeds found its demise as the Gallic forces retreated and a remaining naval presence found themselves cut off within the Hebrides. With the war over, Gallia reformed its government while leaving this outcasted naval force stranded. This group became known as the Gallic Enclave, royalist-minded and desiring to maintain the war, to not allow it to end in a defeat. In an effort to obtain resources, a hasty decision was made to occupy and inhabit Gaia. The Gaians found themselves unable to fight off such advancements as the Enclave held terrible battleships of destruction over the planet.

A year or so passed, and the political nature of the neighboring house changed. The Enclave was invited back into Gallia following a new reformation, abandoning the Hebrides. Few diehard souls remained behind in vain attempts to have their former power held. These remnants festered and built themselves up. An independent group decided to construct an orbital station around Gaia which assisted in the supplying of these royal castaways. Such turmoil and dying flames had tarnished the world of Gaia and finally, after years of planning and effort, it was time for the Gaians to strike.

The Lochrath loomed over Gaia in high anchor. It was one of many vessels that did so this day which brought an uneasy tension that hung in the air. Transports, fighter wings, and other various vessels appeared suddenly that morning, all displaying identification labeling them as Gaians. It felt like an invasive swarm of flies had surrounded Gaia but were not getting close enough to land to bite or sting yet, though such a looming threat was there. A calm before the storm.

Staring up in the sky towards the Lochrath was a scowling Mary Ward. She was onboard a shuttle that was ferrying her and others down towards Gaia. In truth she had lost sight of the Lochrath minutes ago and was only guessing its location in the swarm of twinkling lights high above the atmosphere. With a defeated sign she slid the top observation port closed and retook her seat, strapping in to the crash harness.

The shuttle held twenty or so people, some she knew and others she did not. The few closest to her were some of her crew. To her left sat Piper Taylor, the reporter and artist that somehow found herself onboard her ship. To her right was the fighter pilot Riley Shaw, who seemed to desire to be flying their shuttle more than riding in it. Across from her was Doctor Ella Wells who was attempting to maintain an outwards expression of calm. The way her hands gripped the arm rests betrayed her fear of orbital landings. Mary didn't blame her for that fear.

Shortly after they landed in the outskirts of a small town, disembarking after taking up kit and bags to head towards the town. As they disembarked, Mary felt the strange sensation of being under a planet's gravity disquieting, having lived mostly within artificial gravity aboard stations or ships for years now. The soft dirt and grass concerned her the most. She felt that at any moment it would turn to liquid to engulf her. Doctor Wells had assured her that it was just normal earth and grass, which Mary found doubtful.

After she confirmed they had all gotten off the shuttle Mary had them gather together for a brief meeting. "Alright. Remember what we're 'ere for. This is th' last chance these folks get. Try t'make that clear." Mary instructed.

Shaw piped up. "Are we certain we won't meet resistance? Royalists?"

A firm nod was given in return. "We're certain. This town s'just full of displaced souls from Leeds. They won't leave, however. Ah don't know why."

Mary asked to see if there were any more questions. There weren't any. So her team turned to the town and began to walk. The chirping of overhead birds seemed to unsettle Taylor and Mary, while Wells and Shaw enjoyed it. The vast differences of their upbringing revealed in this moment.

What had brought them down to Gaia's surface was a final formality. Gaians have forever told humanity that inhabiting Gaia was off limits, though the occupation by the Enclave had changed that. Their message seemed just an empty threat, all bark and no bite. Now with the looming spacefaring war group in orbit, it was starting to dawn on a few of Gaia that such empty threats weren't going to last forever. Some communities still yet refused to leave, not counting the Gallic remnants which had constructed a few settlements, a few the size of a small city. It was decided that as a final attempt to remove some of the displaced Bretonian population, a face-to-face warning would be the final message. Nobody spoke of what would come, but there was no question that this was the last chance.

As they entered the shabby town, many of the inhabitants looked war weary or elderly. The buildings they occupied were prefab, constructed and moved here to serve as living and working dwellings. There was a lack of infrastructure however, no sanitation or sewage system. Power was handled from building to building via generators or solar panels. It seemed miserable, all things told.

Mary had paired up with Shaw, Wells with Taylor. They split to go for different buildings or groups of people to talk to them, to convince them to leave. After an hour, they had no luck. They were either met with silent refusals or hostile denials to be uprooted once more. It was by the second hour that Mary understood the problem. This community was mostly refugees from Leeds who had lost their home. Their refusals to leave came from a desire to not be uprooted once more. Mary felt disheartened by this though understood their reasonings. She still tried with each person.

As it came to the fourth and final hour, both Mary and Shaw were put down by the mood. They were to head back to the shuttle soon. None of them were able to convince a single soul to leave with them.

Mary knocked on a door as Shaw tried across the dirt path. Without waiting for an answer she turned away, expecting no reply like many other buildings they went to. To her surprise, a soft elderly male voice answered through the door. "H-Hello? Who is it?"

Caught off-guard, Mary turned back and stood close to the door, speaking up to be heard through it. "Ah am Mary Ward, of the Gaian Movement. Could I have a moment of y'time?"

Even more surprising to her was the response. A click of a locking mechanism and the door swung inwards. A man in his eighties stood in the entryway, a smile on his lips. "Oh do come in, surely we can chat for a bit."

Invited, Mary entered. It was gloomy inside, an omnidirectional torch sat on a kitchen table that tried its hardest to illuminate the area. The elderly man sat down in a folding chair at the table and motioned for Mary to sit at the other chair across from him. She noted that the chairs did not match. As they settled, the elder spoke up.

"So I am to guess that this is the final call. Last drinks." The man spoke. This was off-putting to Mary. It was so direct while others of the little village had denied any notion of what was to come.

"Ah am sorry t'say, but yes sir." She replied softly.

"You won't have luck in these parts. All stubborn souls. Old souls. They don't want more change. They don't want to try to start up their lives once more."

Mary had noticed this already. She asked, "And you?"

He gave an apologetic smile. "Old and stubborn."

Mary sighed. While kind, she was met with yet another person who didn't desire to leave. She was about to excuse herself to go when the man spoke again. "However, I was hoping you'd help me with something."

Displeased, Mary remained sitting. "Y'must accept my apology, ah ain't here to do errands for you."

"No, no. Of course not. But I was hoping you could take something for me."

Perplexed by the notion, Mary questioned. "Take something? And what would that be?"

The elderly man turned and motioned towards the corner of the building. Mary had looked around after entering and noted that the location the elder had motioned to seemed to be a communal sleeping area with cots, beds, and sleeping rolls huddled together. What she didn't see originally was the small boy sitting on one of the beds. She was startled. The boy was watching her, wide eyed like a caught prey animal she had read of. His clothes were ragged and barely fitting. A poor wretch. A son? A grandson? What was their relationship?

"Him. I want you to take him. Give him a good life, a better life than the ones stolen from us. His heart isn't punished with bitterness or exhaustion."

Mary was suddenly concerned. "Is he yours? Are there others as young as he here?"

The elderly man smile calmly, shaking his head. Mary couldn't decide which he was answering, or if it was an answer to both.

"Are you certain you want us to take him?" Mary asked instead.

"Yes. He has been in a state of shock since we were forced off Leeds. He will likely need medical assistance. Most of all, he needs a life without all of this suffering. Are you able to give him that?"

Her lips pursed, still staring at the figure on the bed. After a moment, she tore her gaze from the boy to look at the elder. "Yes. That's what we're here for, after all."

Pleased, the elderly man's head bobbed up and down. He stood up and motioned to the boy to gather his things and be ready to go. The boy obeyed obediently and swiftly. To give them privacy, Mary went to exit the door and stood outside to wait, should they wish final parting words. After about five minutes the pair opened the door and exited. The elder held a weary smile, the boy looked wide eyed and uncertain of what was to come next for him. In this time waiting, Shaw had joined back up with her and they shared their progress.

Standing and dressed in a touch more cleaner clothing, the boy was not exactly a boy. He was at Mary's height and seemed to be roughly twenty years old, though could be younger or older. Shaw took a cheery tune and tried to talk to him. "So you'll be joining us then, hey?"

The not-boy didn't reply. He just stared at Shaw.

Slightly unnerved, Shaw decided to smile wider and tried again. "What's your name?"

Still, no reply. Shaw and Mary both looked to the Elder, who simply shook his head. A trio of beeps interrupted them, both Mary and Shaw reaching into their pockets to look at their communication devices. It was time to go.

"That's our call. We've a shuttle landed close by that will take us back up into orbit and away from 'ere." Mary explained. The boy didn't respond but made himself ready to go. He held in his hand a small luggage bag that couldn't have held more than two pairs of clothing. Seeing such upset Mary.

"Would you like to say goodbye?" Shaw asked softly. Taking the cue, the Elderly man stepped over and hugged the boy tightly. Shaw and Mary took a step back to give them space. The two embracing muttered a few final words. After what seemed like a minute or two, the two separated. The elderly man still holding that smile on his lips.

"Well alright. We'll be going now. Thank you, sir. Are you certain you don't wish to come too?" Shaw said to the elder, who raised an open hand to her in response. She wouldn't press more than that. Final waves were given and the two began to herd the boy down the street towards their shuttle. The boy looked back towards the old man, as if to catch a last glimpse of him. There the man stood, still waving, seeing him off.

About ten minutes later they found their way back to the shuttle. The rest of those who came with them had just as much luck as they did, only a handful of people who were willing to take this ticket off world. Doctor Wells came over with Piper, the former taking an interest in the newcomer. "Hello there. I'm glad you decided to join us. I know it's hard, but I swear we'll take good care of you." Wells said with a smile. She took the boy away with her, explaining the need for a few shots to be able to withstand being off world.

Piper crossed to Shaw and Mary, a weary smile given. "You both okay?"

"No, but there's nothin' else we can do here." Mary replied, then added in a bitter tone. "All we're leavin' behind are corpses."

The trio had nothing more to say. They boarded the shuttle and after a check, took off and climbed through the atmosphere back to their ship. Down the row of seats Mary saw the boy, strapped in. He looked over at her as if feeling the gaze. She couldn't look at him in the eye, and glanced away. It reminded her of too much.

Soon the land around them bent and curved as it fell away, the horizon revealing the rounded shape of Gaia. After thirty minutes they had reached the awaiting Lochrath, entering the little docking bay. Below them, Gaia sat quiet and peaceful, lush greens and blues shining up at them in muted splendor. How this scene would soon change, Mary thought.