(OOC/LFRP thread here!)
To some, the colony of Malbr was considered a no-man's land; a place that interstellar pioneers once chose as their home, only for their sons and daughters to lose their's spilling each other's blood. Until recently no higher powers had even acknowledged the moon's population as anything other than lawless drifters; a temporary nuisance. But since no faction laid claim to the moon of Te'vose its population had nothing to do but grow. So more people lived and died scraping together what they could, while the enslaved or foolhardy started to build the powerful a small nation.
Until recently nobody was able to keep control of that place. The gas giant that Malbr revolved around gained the eye of outsiders when valuable resources were found in its atmosphere; this boosted the colony's economy while also pushing its local politics through such flux the locals started to beg for a larger, more established faction to intervene. That was when one of the very foreigners that perpetuated Malbr's political intrigue stepped in.
The Foreign Benefactor, someone that the hardly anyone knows the identity of, established control of the state by use of mercenaries and technology nobody else there possessed. They imprisoned the majority of the old politicians and appointed new ones sworn to them to ensure that the trade of Te'vose's rare gas was controlled, its laws harshly enforced upon other enterprising harvesters. Despite the bloody origin of Mablr's Union, the Benefactor otherwise showed themselves to be exactly what they say they are; giving.
The population boomed in the dawn of the Union; new provinces were terraformed, the economy stabilized and the constant civil conflicts ended. People were able to acquire important objects like medicine and food reliably, so fewer people died and the health of the people improved drastically. They were able to manufacture technology and weapons en masse, and so were able to establish a standing army and fleet. There was only one thing missing from an otherwise bright new day, something that pressured the locals more with each passing year; a shortage of energy.
So the Foreign Benefactor once again tended their people by carving a section into the moon dedicated solely to the production of renewable energy. A massive generator, powered by stored energy from biomass and geothermal sources under the moon's crust provided the colony with their solution. It became so successful that they were able to create a faux sun, an artificial source of light essential to many organic beings; it would alter itself to make a cycle of day and night, which encouraged more natural growth within the provinces.
The Union's success had garnered the attention of new foes; old merchantile rivals and spies from enemy nations intent on undermining the faction's success, to open up the harvest of Te'vose again. This caused a new conflict; the former colony against old, nearby federations. With much of the military patrolling or fighting its enemies in space, a new army of mercenaries hired by the Foreign Benefactor were ordered to protect the generator. Overseen by a local warlord and encouraged to loyalty by exceptionally generous pay grades, these mercenaries protected the generator for a few years without incident... until now.
_
Riagan had been working for the Union for a few weeks, occasionally guarding one of the three gates leading into the otherwise enclosed facility. The pay provided was too much to pass on but the work itself proved to be drudgery; sometimes people would arrive and he or his fellow gate guards would need to scan them with some clunky device the warlord provided. Sometimes they'd even inspect those people and their belongings themselves before inevitably allowing them to pass. There were more mercenaries within the building and a garrison outside the facility, made from the husk of an old factory.
The cyborg was ruminating on his painfully boring job and playing torrented songs and movies inside his helmet despite contractual obligations not to while working. So far nobody caught on and he doubted they would, as nobody else would be able to hear it. There was another gate guard to his left who he'd gotten well enough acquainted with in the past week standing to tolerate but the others in his new troop were inside and largely uninvolved in his life.
To some, the colony of Malbr was considered a no-man's land; a place that interstellar pioneers once chose as their home, only for their sons and daughters to lose their's spilling each other's blood. Until recently no higher powers had even acknowledged the moon's population as anything other than lawless drifters; a temporary nuisance. But since no faction laid claim to the moon of Te'vose its population had nothing to do but grow. So more people lived and died scraping together what they could, while the enslaved or foolhardy started to build the powerful a small nation.
Until recently nobody was able to keep control of that place. The gas giant that Malbr revolved around gained the eye of outsiders when valuable resources were found in its atmosphere; this boosted the colony's economy while also pushing its local politics through such flux the locals started to beg for a larger, more established faction to intervene. That was when one of the very foreigners that perpetuated Malbr's political intrigue stepped in.
The Foreign Benefactor, someone that the hardly anyone knows the identity of, established control of the state by use of mercenaries and technology nobody else there possessed. They imprisoned the majority of the old politicians and appointed new ones sworn to them to ensure that the trade of Te'vose's rare gas was controlled, its laws harshly enforced upon other enterprising harvesters. Despite the bloody origin of Mablr's Union, the Benefactor otherwise showed themselves to be exactly what they say they are; giving.
The population boomed in the dawn of the Union; new provinces were terraformed, the economy stabilized and the constant civil conflicts ended. People were able to acquire important objects like medicine and food reliably, so fewer people died and the health of the people improved drastically. They were able to manufacture technology and weapons en masse, and so were able to establish a standing army and fleet. There was only one thing missing from an otherwise bright new day, something that pressured the locals more with each passing year; a shortage of energy.
So the Foreign Benefactor once again tended their people by carving a section into the moon dedicated solely to the production of renewable energy. A massive generator, powered by stored energy from biomass and geothermal sources under the moon's crust provided the colony with their solution. It became so successful that they were able to create a faux sun, an artificial source of light essential to many organic beings; it would alter itself to make a cycle of day and night, which encouraged more natural growth within the provinces.
The Union's success had garnered the attention of new foes; old merchantile rivals and spies from enemy nations intent on undermining the faction's success, to open up the harvest of Te'vose again. This caused a new conflict; the former colony against old, nearby federations. With much of the military patrolling or fighting its enemies in space, a new army of mercenaries hired by the Foreign Benefactor were ordered to protect the generator. Overseen by a local warlord and encouraged to loyalty by exceptionally generous pay grades, these mercenaries protected the generator for a few years without incident... until now.
_
Riagan had been working for the Union for a few weeks, occasionally guarding one of the three gates leading into the otherwise enclosed facility. The pay provided was too much to pass on but the work itself proved to be drudgery; sometimes people would arrive and he or his fellow gate guards would need to scan them with some clunky device the warlord provided. Sometimes they'd even inspect those people and their belongings themselves before inevitably allowing them to pass. There were more mercenaries within the building and a garrison outside the facility, made from the husk of an old factory.
The cyborg was ruminating on his painfully boring job and playing torrented songs and movies inside his helmet despite contractual obligations not to while working. So far nobody caught on and he doubted they would, as nobody else would be able to hear it. There was another gate guard to his left who he'd gotten well enough acquainted with in the past week standing to tolerate but the others in his new troop were inside and largely uninvolved in his life.
'Knowledge.' It is indeed a powerful word; an even greater motive. Strong enough to birth an ambition that casts aside any other mortal craving, perhaps because the quest for information is such a benevolent and collective want. Knowledge is the key of enlightenment to all, no matter their class or station. New tools to further progression in all forms of work, life-saving breakthroughs in medicine, and the gateway to new worlds beyond unlocked by power of technology are all boons bestowed by adhering to the search for knowledge. Even as a personal gain, desires such as wealth, prestige and personal power barely come close to swaying raw curiosity. Of course, while everyone has a hunger for the unknown, there is a darker side to the quest for truth. A race to uncover a multitude of hidden secrets that should have been left in the shadows, rife with fatal consequences. To some, knowledge is the greatest rush, and above all, it is the one true force of power...
...Or so that was how Advunturion felt about the matter. To him, information was what sustained him, and the key factor behind his presence here on Malbr. Of course, as far as the higher-ups should be concerned, he is just another mercenary. A masterless combat drone whose allegience was consolidated with an actual salary for once. The machine counted himself lucky, for there were many other domains that would've seen him as a bipedal tool, with less claim to rights than a slave. That said, whatever constitution the government of Malbr had for the rights of synthetics was not particulary relevant to Advunturion. He was here for something else: A wish to discern the past behind the very generator that he was paid to protect.
His ship in the nearby spaceport had been left to rot for at least six months now, taking with him only his signature weaponry. That time had flown without event for the inactive Advunturion, and he was quickly becoming famished by boredom. He spoke very little with his comrades guarding the generator, and only when spoken to. Not because he disliked or distrusted them, he just had no grasp of social interaction. Yet he could not simply desert his position, now that he was a registered grunt. He would have to repress his hunger to learn. At least for a little longer. Either that, or it was finally time to start conspiring.
...Or so that was how Advunturion felt about the matter. To him, information was what sustained him, and the key factor behind his presence here on Malbr. Of course, as far as the higher-ups should be concerned, he is just another mercenary. A masterless combat drone whose allegience was consolidated with an actual salary for once. The machine counted himself lucky, for there were many other domains that would've seen him as a bipedal tool, with less claim to rights than a slave. That said, whatever constitution the government of Malbr had for the rights of synthetics was not particulary relevant to Advunturion. He was here for something else: A wish to discern the past behind the very generator that he was paid to protect.
His ship in the nearby spaceport had been left to rot for at least six months now, taking with him only his signature weaponry. That time had flown without event for the inactive Advunturion, and he was quickly becoming famished by boredom. He spoke very little with his comrades guarding the generator, and only when spoken to. Not because he disliked or distrusted them, he just had no grasp of social interaction. Yet he could not simply desert his position, now that he was a registered grunt. He would have to repress his hunger to learn. At least for a little longer. Either that, or it was finally time to start conspiring.
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