I plan for this to be an AAR narrative utilizing the seven factions of the great strategy game Alpha Centauri by Sid Meiers. I have begun writing a back story because Twilight is still in beta. I will either use the planned Alpha Centauri mod for Twilight or my own custom races to (hopefully) continue the story. Hope you all enjoy it.
I can't find the post there. Why don't you just continue the story here!?
Yeah, I guess I coulda given you all a direct link, so here 'tis:
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/4161812/20/Centauri_Arrival_Rediscovering_the_Past
* * * * * * * *
A NEW WORLD
Chapter 20
Amon placed a hand on a lit panel control. A moment later the laboratory door opened and Rhona followed him down a hallway to another door with a guard seated to one side. The guard stood quickly, waved a device near Amon, then touched another control. Rhona reflexively brought a hand up to shield her eyes as sunlight streamed through the opening door.
She walked forward a few paces then stood fast just outside the doorway awestruck at what she was seeing, gazing about like a tourist on vacation in a strange land. There were buildings scattered everywhere - businesses, shops, a library, a theater. There was a manicured park area in the center of the district with a walking path, a small lake, a fountain, tall trees. There were small wheeled vehicles parked on sidewalks and others silently cruising in and out of side streets and parking areas. Rhona looked up and saw people in one building leaning out of windows from their living spaces watching the ever changing scenery play out on the streets below. And the din of hundreds of people talking, laughing, even singing; the smells of food being cooked in restaurants and homes; human life everywhere.
But Rhona was drawn more to what was above her rather than the bustle of humanity all around her. Up there were sky, clouds - and twin suns that radiated light and warmth. The sky of Chiron. Are we still underground?
As Rhona’s mind filled with numerous questions, she focused on the ground again and began looking for Amon. He was no longer standing close to her but was conversing several yards away with his bodyguard Holden. She could not hear what Amon was saying though from the brusque, pointed gestures he was making along with occasional glances toward Rhona, it seemed Holden was probably being put in his place. Holden’s eyes were downcast, his features grim, his jaw set. Occasionally he would sharply nod his head in acknowledgement but never said a word in reply to Amon’s lecture. After a few minutes Amon walked over to Rhona, face flushed from his passionate rebuke. As he approached Rhona glanced at Holden behind him. Holden slowly looked up as Amon walked away and his eyes met Rhona’s. His face was stern. He silently stared at her a few moments then sharply spun and walked away.
Rhona’s eyes regarded Amon as he approached her. “I’ve ordered Holden to Council Intelligence Services to be properly debriefed on what has happened,” he said in reply to Rhona’s queried expression, “and then back to the Hall of Discipline to be reprimanded for his behavior.” Surprisingly, Rhona felt the tiniest stab of pity for her would be attacker and briefly pondered just what a reprimand would entail.
But Holden’s fate was quickly superceded by the activity around them. Rhona’s squinting eyes once again looked skyward. Amon said, “It is a hologram. An elaborate network of them specifically.”
Rhona looked at Amon, eyes wide in disbelief. She gazed up at the sky again, shaking her head and only muttering, “Incredible. I mean, it looks so – real.”
Amon smiled as he too squinted at the holographic sky. “The University and Morganite team who thought up the plan would be pleased to hear it. It’s been this way for so many years now we almost take it for granted. Then again, that is a complement to their creation - the naturalness of it.”
“But what about rain and wind? Are they created as well?” Rhona asked.
“Oh, yes,” Amon answered, “along with the appropriate thunder and lightning. The holocomputers program what we call ‘predictable randomness’. Basically it keeps the weather patterns changing just enough to keep it interesting but still slightly unpredictable.” He motioned toward the “sky” with a hand. “If you were to see this hologram turned off, you would see nothing but a stone surface riddled with miles of electronic and computer equipment of all shapes and sizes.”
“What about the suns?” Rhona asked. “Are they holograms as well?”
“One of them is real,” Amon replied. Rhona eyed him with incredulity. Amon chuckled, “No, it isn’t a real star. It is a man-made one - a fusion reactor with the plasma held in place by a magnetic field to keep the heat in check. Otherwise, it would burn everything here. And this ‘star’ has the benefit of never collapsing as there is not enough mass for it to do so. The energy output should be constant for generations to come.”
“Incredible” she whispered. Then another thought came to her. “Does it snow?”
Amon looked down, shrugging slightly. “No. Not exactly. The holo-emitters can create the illusion of snow but we have no way of creating the accumulation of it.” He chuckled. “We ran an unannounced test of a holo-snow program a few years back, but it was not well received by the population. What is the use of snow if you cannot utilize it for recreation? Just seeing it wasn’t enough. It was only a small part of the full experience. University scientists are still working on it, though.”
Rhona smirked. “So, you can create a star, an entire underground colony immune to all knows methods of detection, create in believable detail the weather patterns of the planet above, but you can’t make it snow?”
Amon merely smiled, then pointed toward a not so far off building. “Please, this way.”
As Amon and Rhona walked down the sidewalk together, Rhona noticed the trees in the makeshift park wave slightly; a moment later she felt a slight breeze on her face. She shot a look at Amon, delightful fascination on her face. Amon said nothing but smiled back at her in reply. All Rhona could do was look around and say “Incredible. Remarkable.”
Continuing on, Rhona became aware of more and more people casting furtive glances at her as she walked by. In time, people began openly staring at her and excitedly chatting among themselves. Appears the word has gotten out about me, Rhona thought. That sparked another thought. “Councilman, may I ask how you were able to come to the conclusion that I was not an agent?”
Amon nodded in reply. “It was quite simple, really. A matter of analyzing blood samples and looking for specific DNA markers.”
Rhona looked at Amon with a frown. “What DNA markers would indicate I was from Earth? I’m just as human as you.”
The scars on Amon’s face warped into weird patterns as he spoke. “We began to notice in the second generation of Planet born children subtle but definite mutations in their DNA, specifically the increase of nitrogen in the blood and organs. Though we lived in structures with plenty of breathable oxygen, it was never what you would term air tight. And growing our crops in Chiron soil means heavier concentrations of nitrogen in our food supply, more than would be present on Earth. Over the years and decades our bodies have slowly adjusted to this environment and absorbed certain aspects of it. The nitrogen mutations are completely benign and harmless but the markers are there. A Chiron born female your age would show definite signs of passive nitrogen mutation. Your DNA has none of these markers.”
Rhona pursed her lips, nodding in understanding. “Fascinating,” she whispered. “But, if I were indeed an agent from another faction, wouldn’t it be possible to alter those markers as to make it appear I was Chiron born?”
Amon shook his head confidently. “Plausible, but technically impossible. Human genetic manipulation would leave telltale marks behind indicating they were unnatural. No matter how gifted the geneticists are, they could never design strands that would completely fool specific, intensive testing.” Amon spread his hands. “We have come a long way in genetic sciences, but we cannot compete with nature. Nature has a head start in this race measured in eons. By comparison, mankind has barely gotten out of the starting gate.”
Rhona continued nodding while listening to Amon’s explanations, losing herself in the discussion. She harkened back to what her science team had researched so far regarding the widespread genetic manipulation by Chiron survivors. Working in the genetic field with such freedom was something almost non-existent on Earth, but craved by many scientists in the field. Rhona thought of the awesome possibilities such freedom could bring when they began colonization of Chiron.
Then Rhona briefly went cold as that reality hit home. As far as Command knows this planet was devoid of human life when they began colonization planning. Will these people be willing to just pack up and move when Earth colonists begin coming here? Are they going to be willing to live in harmony with a society at odds with the one they have created?
Amon tilted his head, pondering Rhona with questioning look. “Are you all right, doctor? You seemed distracted just now.”
Rhona blinked and forced a quick smile in self defense. “Yes, I’m quite all right. A little groggy from the drug you gave me perhaps.” She quietly cleared her throat and asked in a slightly tentative voice, “Councilman, how many people live in this colony?”
“Oh,” he breathed out, “I would say a little over four thousand people, a third of them children.”
Rhona dropped her eyes for a moment, her throat tightening. “That many?”
“Yes. We have very skilled citizens from the Hive who, as you obviously know by now, are experts at creating underground dwellings and thriving in them. Their expertise was critical in carving out spaces for our people. We were fortunate to have so many escape from Chairman Yang before the others left. As our population grows we should be able to expand as much as our citizens need.”
Two young boys around ten years of age ran up to Rhona and Amon as they walked. “Are you from Earth?” one of the children blurted out to Rhona.
Rhona glanced at Amon who nodded in permission. “Yes, I am.”
Both boys looked at each other with amazed expressions. “Wow! A real live alien!” the other child exclaimed. Mouths open and eyes wide, they sprinted off towards another crowd of children, yelling at them and animatedly pointing toward Rhona. Rhona could not hear most of the talk but she distinctly heard the words “Earth” and “alien”.
As they made their way along the sidewalk toward the structure that allowed access to the surface, more and more people stepped forward to catch a glimpse of Rhona. No one seemed apprehensive or frightened of her. Instead they seemed genuinely curious, inquisitive - and welcoming. More than one person made a point to welcome Rhona to their colony. Others, smiling with affection, offered her God’s blessing - Believers, most likely. A few were reserved but bowed slightly as they passed - probably Hive or Spartans. A smiling teenage girl with an orchid of some type in placed in her hair glided through the growing crowd and handed Rhona a small, hand picked bouquet of exquisite flowers and greenery. The arrangement radiated color as well as a mixture of pleasurable fragrances. Rhona could not suppress her smile and thanked the girl for the gift. She is definitely a Gaian.
Eventually the citizens’ curiosity reached fever pitch and Rhona was pelted with questions: “Is Earth still the same? How many people are left? Is it possible to go back there? How destructive were the wars? How many died?” - one after the other the questions came. Amon was eventually forced to raise his hands and quiet the crowd. “I promise all your questions will be answered in due time, citizens. Please let us through. We must make contact with those on surface.”
Rhona remained mostly silent for the duration, uncomfortable with such instant notoriety, somewhat frustrated that she was unable to answer questions that clearly required lengthy, thought out answers. But she kept up appearances, smiling, making eye contact with as many as possible, allowing the citizens to touch her and shake hands with her in order to prove to the citizens that she was indeed human, just like all of them.
As she and Amon reached the entrance to the structure that would lead them to the Garden of Paradise, Rhona stopped. She reached out to Amon, halting him. They looked at one another for a brief moment then Rhona turned to address the crowd that had formed. She nervously cleared her throat, then spoke.
“Citizens of - uh - this colony,” she began. A few quietly laughed at Rhona’s hesitation. Rhona also smiled at her awkwardness. “I just wanted to tell all of you that what you have created here is - well, it is beyond words, quite frankly.” Murmurs of approval and many smiles broke out in the crowd. “As you all know by now, I am from Earth. But also know that while I was born there, you are all part of her as well.” Quiet now, and stoic expressions. Had she crossed the line with that statement? It stood to reason these people had become so independent, had prospered as a civilization so far from their original homeworld, they would have easily disregarded any connection to Earth. She decided to press on.
“I know that over one hundred sixty human years and millions of light years separate our worlds. But we share something far more fundamental, something that time and distance will never displace. Just as many of you look upon me as evidence of Earth’s will to survive - an ambassador of sorts - so I, as a representative of Earth, look at all of you thriving on this world in exactly the same way. I see in all of you the resiliency of humanity that strengthens our will to overcome hardship and survive. We did it on Earth over the course of many years. You - all of you in this colony - have done exactly the same. We have lived different histories but we are all survivors. And that, more than anything else, not only makes you a part of us but makes us a part of you.” She bowed her head in reverence and respect to the quieted crowd. “Thank you all.”
A smattering of applause began which quickly became louder. Then hoots of approval. Lavish blessings and well-wishes poured from the crowd as Rhona and Amon entered the structure and boarded the large freight lift that would take them to the surface. They were both silent as they entered, Rhona awash in the appreciation and affection the citizens of this colony had showered on her; Amon, occasionally appraising Rhona with that ever-present slight smile as the lift ascended, was quiet for - some other reason. And when Rhona let her high sprits resume normal levels again she began to sense it. She turned and looked at him, her expression dull.
“I became aware of something when you were making your speech,” Amon replied to the question Rhona never asked. “Earth - your people - are coming here, aren’t they.”
Rhona tried to hold her expression but failed. “Yes, we are,” she said quietly.
Amon looked away and focused on blank lift door in front of him. The subtle smile than Amon wore was still there but Rhona noticed for the first time his facial muscles tense. Amon’s mind worked to process what Rhona had confirmed to him. After a time he began nodding grimly.
“This could be - quite difficult,” he said.
Perth
Chapter 21
The lift transporting Wesley Garland to the main conference room thirty stories up seemed to run much faster than usual on this particular day. Typical. Nothing like a crisis to alter the flow of time. And the Ganymede mission had been sprinting from one crisis to another lately with Wesley doing everything he could to placate SciCom members. Most were now becoming extremely concerned about the unauthorized actions Commander Ramirez and his officers had been taking over the past several days. A handful of committee members were outright angry, going so far as to suggest Wesley resign his post so the committee could decide on a new mission commander.
But Wesley still had enough prestige to keep the naysayer numbers small. And his most ardent detractors dare not leak their disaffection to the media for fear of a prodigious backlash not only from the majority of committee members but the global public as well. Right now, there was zero tolerance for those who intended on upsetting the apple cart by airing out petty differences. For the moment, Wesley and the committee he led could do no wrong and everyone wanted to keep it that way.
Wesley casually peered over the railing of the glass encased lift as it ascended quickly along a recessed groove in the side of the building. The island of Perth was covered in skyscrapers, most of western Australia now forever drowned in the aftermath of the Great Calamity of the late twenty-first century. The beach line seemed to butt against the edge of the building from this height though it was merely an optical illusion. The massive geologic shift that allowed the old city of Perth to survive as an island after extensive flooding along Australia’s coastlines was an interesting phenomenon that geologists continued to make documentary vids about even to this day.
The lift chimed its destination arrival and Wesley walked out of the lift with a heavy sigh. He vaguely noticed someone in his periphery stand and begin walking toward him. Wesley cast a furtive glance toward the figure, then stopped in recognition. It was Joseph Middleton, his executive assistant and long time friend.
“Joseph!” Wesley said with a mixture of affection and puzzlement. “What are you doing here?”
Joseph’s outstretched arm connected with Wesley’s and both men vigorously shook hands. Joseph’s wide, tight smile divided a head with a large chin and even larger forehead, the eyes, nose and mouth occupying a small sliver of space in the center of his wide canvas of a face. “Good to see you, Wes. In person this time.”
“Well, this is a surprise,” Wesley said. “You know you could have attended this meeting from Liberton. Why go to all the trouble of coming here?”
Joseph looked down and shook his head in mock dejection. “Wes, do you know how hard it’s going to be to get a seat at the Australian Open next year? Bloody Aussies still haven’t figured out we’re in the damned twenty-third century. You can’t just send ‘em a holo - no, you’ve got to transact face to face - especially with the big money I’m shelling out for those premium seats.” He pointed a finger at Wesley, eyes squinting with conviction. “Killian’s gonna take the whole thing next year, mark my words. Did you see him in that fifth set tie break of the finals a few weeks back? Killian had that bleedin’ Cossack against the ropes until he lost his serve.”
Wesley chuckled. “Uh-huh. You want to tell me another one?”
A corner of Joseph’s mouth flicked upward then he spoke in graver tones. “Well, the real truth is the soon-to-be ex-wife wanted me out of Edinburgh for a while. Apparently I’ve never been a very good listener.”
“Hmm. She actually said that?”
“Well, how would I know, Wes? I can’t stop arguing with her long enough to find out!”
Wesley shook his head and snickered. “Well, that excuse is a little more believable. But I know you better than that, Joe. You’ve been playing this game with Aileene for nearly fifteen years and neither one of you has budged. And my instincts say neither of you ever will.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Joseph looked away for a moment and his face softened with affection. “She’s a spirited lass, that one. I really can’t stand her sometimes.”
“Something tells me she’d say the same thing about you.”
Wesley slapped his old friend on the shoulder, steering him toward the conference room down the hall. “And now that we’ve danced around it long enough, you want to tell me what you’re really doing here?”
Joseph put his head down as they slowly walked, the hallway empty of people except for them. “I thought you might need some help today. Someone to back your play. Just attending this meeting from my office at home didn’t seem right, Wes. I felt I needed to be here personally, that’s all.”
Wesley looked at Joseph with a furrowed brow. “I see. Well, I appreciate that, Joe.”
Joseph nodded his head in acknowledgement but never smiled, never looked up at Wesley. They took a few more steps in silence as Wesley waited for Joe to elaborate. When he didn’t, Wesley prodded him with “C’mon Joe, if there’s something else bothering you, let me know. You know I hate having to mine your brain for information. It makes me feel like I’m violating you somehow.”
Joseph stopped walking. He turned and faced Wesley but his eyes searched around the room nervously as he battled some inner unpleasantness. Wesley observed his friend’s turmoil and became concerned. Finally, he gently laid a hand on Joseph’s shoulder. “You can tell me, Joe,” Wesley said quietly. “What is it?”
It was sufficient to get Joseph relaxed enough to focus on Wesley. Joseph breathed out then motioned Wesley to walk over to the far wall, opposite the conference room. Joseph huddled in close to Wesley and spoke in tones just above a whisper. “I’ve learned that one of Ganymede’s officers is making a case for Ramirez to be relieved of command.”
Wesley looked at Joseph, stunned. “What? Relieved of...where the hell did you hear - ”
“I’m not going to tell you that so I would appreciate you not asking me!” Joseph roughly whispered through clenched teeth. Wesley clamped his mouth shut in compliance but his face continued to radiate shock. He said nothing for a few moments as he refocused his thoughts.
“Which officer is making the case?” Wesley asked.
“I don’t know,” Joseph muttered. He saw the disbelief flash across Wesley’s face, then added, “I’m telling you the truth, Wes! I don’t know which one it is. Hell, it could be all of ‘em for all I know. You can’t exactly blame them after all that’s happened lately!”
Now Wesley’s demeanor went cool. “Ramirez is adapting to a situation thrust upon him to the best of his abilities. With his limited resources, he is still taking quick and decisive action, Joseph.”
“Wes, he’s throwing probes around on the surface like they’re soccer balls.”
Wesley shrugged nonchalantly. “The probe mission is over. May as well put them to good use.”
Joseph gave his friend a beleagured look. “Don’t play coy with me, Wes. You signed off on the order to end probe operations. And if you’d bothered to read the fine print it stipulated leaving them exactly where they were so they could be retrieved at a later date. Intact. Undamaged.”
Wesley seemed to be unconcerned. “His methods may be questionable but there will be plenty of time to hack that apart post-mission.”
An aggravated Joseph rubbed a hand over his face before responding. “I know Ramirez is a good commander, Wes, but you’re not understanding me. Everyone knows you two have a history. You guys graduated the from same officer candidate school. He’s served under you with distinction at least a dozen times over the years. You pushed harder than anyone on the committee to get him assigned as Ganymede commander.”
“He’s good at his job,” Wesley interjected. “That’s all the motivation I needed.”
“In a purely military setting, that’s true! But this whole operation isn’t purely military, Wes.” Joseph gestured toward the conference room. “You’re also dealing with people from Science and Research in there and from what I’ve seen over the years most SCIRES blokes, with a few exceptions, look on the military as a necessary cross to bear. They’re scientists first and soldiers last, and I mean dead last.”
Wesley knew Joseph had a point. It would have been much easier to simply have one organization running the show, but neither the military nor SCIRES had been quick to approve the Ganymede mission at first. It took over a year of backroom wrangling, cajoling, and influence peddling to finally decide how both would share in the funding. Since the mission would be one of research, SCIRES would have autonomy in deciding what they needed for the mission while the military farmed out contracts for ship design and construction according to those needs. Thanks to the powerful lobbying influence SCIRES had in the global government they were able to crew the Ganymede with a larger proportion of scientists which inwardly grated military sensibilities. Military representatives rarely questioned a mandate from their own upper echelon, but they had found heeding the wishes and whims of a sub-branch of the military filled with work-a-day warriors and eggheads a little vexing. Career officers had their own special derogatory word for SCIRES reservists - chocos. It was slang the old Australian military had used over a century ago to describe their reservists. They were referred to as “chocos” because, like chocolate, they would melt in the heat of battle.
But what SCIRES lacked on the sharper end of the military stick they made up for in bureaucratic numbers. And while most of their members had not lost faith in Wesley’s directorship yet, he knew that if - or when - the time did come they would likely be the first to fold.
Wesley stole a glance at his watch. Only a few minutes left to prepare. He held his chin to his chest for a moment, then looked at Joseph. “Against my better judgement, I’ve already agreed to Command’s decision to retire Ramirez when he returns. Hell, I’m still trying to figure that one out. But if I’m pressured to relieve him of command while he’s still in the field...”
Joseph gave him a cautionary, sidelong glance. “Wes, you’d better not go in there and spill what I’ve-”
Wesley held up a hand and stopped his friend in mid-sentence. “I’m not going to tip anyone off, Joe. Your inside information is safe with me. And I appreciate you trusting me with it.”
Joseph gave Wesley a slight smile. “Despite my better judgement, I still consider you a good friend.” He gave Wesley an encouraging look. “Your head’s in the right place, Wes. Don’t let them undermine you without a fight.”
“I don’t intend to,” Wesley answered with a sly grin. “I don’t care if I am turning into another note passing bureaucrat.”
Joseph didn’t say anything as Welsey turned and led the way to the conference room. Wesley may have meant that last statement as a bit of light humor, but Joseph knew better. He knew his old friend was having a harder time adjusting to the political side of his job than he let on. That was another reason Joseph felt the need to come here in person, though Wesley would never know that.
They both walked to the conference room door, stood still for a moment as unseen sensors scanned everything down to their blood type, then a small light on the side of the door lit green. Wesley and Joseph briefly looked at each other before entering, both men summoning some inner fortitude that would steel them for the long day ahead. Then Wesley touched the green light and the door hissed open.
There are many great features available to you once you register, including:
Sign in or Create Account
