Observation and scanning technologies for the Cosmic Era
The United States Space Ship Ticonderoga is the largest space vessel ever built. Constructed over 500 years ago, it now orbits earth, most systems shut down - It is a treasure ridden derelict juggernaught.
A leftover relic of the ancients.
Or so would seem.
A Federation black budget research and development center, and one of the most advanced shipwrights in the Solar System
At the height of the Imbrian Culture, they colonized almost the entire Solar System, and Lunaformed many of the planets.
An exhaustive list of the Realms, as well as a short description and how they fit in relation to each other.
Fundamentally connected to my primary submission, Primal Essence, Primals, and the Creation of the Realms as well as several others linked to from there. I'll provide a link at the top of this article, though I'd recommend at least reading the main one before this.
The octahedral space stations designed and built by the Atlantic Federation
Sometimes Utopias should stay as mere legends.
The primary spaceport of the South African United Republics and the largest space port in Africa
They're doing it, they're really doing it
One of the largest objects in Low Earth Orbit
"We came expecting a broken moon or wayward asteroids, but this... I don't think anyone's seen anything of its like. There's an astounding amount of material here. We're looking in the records, trying to match some of the artifacts, but there's nothing like it. I don't know what most of this does, but my God is it complex. We're looking at, at least, what, two decades of potential salvage, maybe more, then the cartography of the local moon for more. We're definitely here to stay."
- Phaeton Venator, recovered personal log
Dead Space idea
A collection of space habitats, space stations, space colonies, and anything else artificial that serves as a home to humans in SPAAAAAAAAAAAAAACE!
It was never really that nice of a place, but the orbital bombardment, viral bombing, and nuclear war didnt help anything.
"Captain's log, date unknown. We have been exploring a region of dead space, wandering between the dull cinders of dying suns, looking for an explanation to what happened in this sector of space. Our charts show that this sector should be bursting with life - young stars and verdant worlds - but all we have seen is a stellar wasteland." -Log entry recovered from a derelict exploratory vessel on the fringe of the Miros Waste
The Interstellar Highway of the Galaxy
The hallmark of a new Alliance; a safe place for the men of words to meet.
The Ark of Eden was created to be humanity’s future, now it is the future of humanity that lies lost in the blackness of space.
It is pretty.
Yes it is. A man could get lost in himself there.
Is that a bad thing?
Depends on the man.
The Earth-That-Was got used up.
The folk that could made for the sky, and made themselves a new home out here. They made a dozen worlds and all their moons just like Earth, but it weren’t all roses and sunshine.
The government, in their vast and mighty wisdom, made the worlds of the Core great havens of culture, medicine, and trade, then dumped everyone else out on the rim with nothing but forty acres and a donkey, and expected them to be happy about it. Eventually, they decided even that was too much, and took back the one thing they’d let the Rimworlders have - their independence.
So naturally, there was a War. The people who just wanted to be left alone, versus the big bosses who wanted to control everything. The bosses won, of course; now everyone’s part of the Alliance and supposed to love, honor, and obey them, ‘til death do us part.
But that was six years and a few million lives ago. Purple or brown, we’re all just folk now. Out here on the Rim, we just do what we have to, take what we can, and thank Whoever every time a new day sees us still flying.
Except for the few of us they took everything from, whose daily prayer is just for a chance to get some of it back.
We’ll fly as long as we have to, but we’re looking for a place to land.
There are crimes for which a man is not killed, but chased into the wilds, away from his home and country, to not return or be killed on the spot. In one culture is the condemned mutilated, and even his vocal cords are damaged so that the voice is unrecognizable to his friends and family. This is the punishment for people too obsessed with their own prestige.