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SilentMist
Moon
- Joined
- Jul 15, 2011
- Location
- Georgia, USA
Introduction/Warning
The following entries may seem sporadic and with many, seemingly important gaps. If suspension of disbelief isn't enough you can account it to the sporadic nature of journal entries, and if THAT isn't enough I suppose I could tell the truth, for all the good it'll do you.
In all honesty, these entries are actually fill-in (or in-between) points of a graphic story I am working on. It allows me to delve deeper into the world and characters without committing page and panel space. Also, since I have joined such an awesome community and still have a dismal post count, I figure it would be a good start in introducing myself and for anyone who enjoys the sci-fi genre. (Though I do realize that episodic journal entries make for poor roleplay examples.) For those that enjoy art... don't get your hopes up. The main piece is in story-board form until such a day as I feel comfortable with my artistic talents. If there's any sort of interest in the story I might be inclined to write it out novel-style. At least that way you won't be stuck going "Heywait, what/when/how did THAT happen?"
Prologue
Space. The Final Frontier. The Great Beyond. Heaven. The Void. Over the years people have developed such fascinating names for that emptiness between worlds and stars. Personally I like to think of it as just another ocean. A sea of the purest black. Like the explorers of ancient Earth, we sail it in pursuit of new worlds and riches. Besides, I imagine it's safer in our environmentally sealed ships than in the open-ended pieces of floating furniture they piloted back then.
The name is Aetrian Trimaris Stefani, 30 as of this prologue, and this is my story. I am a merchant by trade, traveling the stars in search of my fortune. Ever seeking to earn the pride and respect of my family. I write this journal for no other reason than personal indulgence, and knowing my own mind Ancients help me if someone else ever reads these pages. May the Whaels guide my passage and the Yaksha fill my purse.
Day 1
Well, technically it's more akin to day 3 if we are to judge by Earth time. I have decided to begin my journey on the station SolPolaris Delta. The station represents the last completely human construct before we were introduced to the riches of the galaxy, so I found it a fitting representation. Not that it's entirely human. Not anymore. Its core power generator was one of the first feats of technology we learned from First Contact. Efficient as a star with a marginal fraction of the size. Which actually happens to be the real reason I have come here. You see, as a farewell gift my dear maestro has provided me with an honest to gold Genesis Core at significant discount. At first I believed it a test. After all, one of the first lessons he taught me was not throw all you have into a single investment. Yet I have spent more than enough time considering this offer, and test or not it is too great an opportunity to pass.
Perhaps he believes me to possess more capital than I actually have after a year out of my apprenticeship. If so I think it is best that this belief remain unchanged. It is a sure sale. With the war crossing so deep into Federation territory, many of the older colonies will pay exorbitantly for a top-line core. My purse swoons at the very thought of such profits.
Most of this last "day" has been spent in search of and negotiations for adequate passage. I need a ship as brave and stupid as myself. Someone willing to fly directly into a war zone. After some rather heated negotiations, I believe I have found just such a vessel. She is a frigate-class marvel, nearly the size of a cruiser, by the name of Aegir. Admittedly the crew is a bit more eccentric than I had anticipated. The captain in particular, a woman named Lynne Soyur who lacks stature but is by no means short on presence. The only member of the crew I know of that left behind a promising military career for the sake of private pursuits. Though I imagine her mannerisms and strange fixation with tattoos may have helped that decision. Her lieutenant, from what I gather quartermaster, exchequer, and first mate all in one, is a man from my own heart. A man known only as Shore, it was him that caused such difficult negotiations. He may not have had official merchant training, that I know, but he has a very good sense of the business and no small amount of clever stoicism. Beyond that the crew has ten other members I have not met. Three pilots, all capable of flying the ship as well as its two private fighters, a pair of mechanics, an arms master, a doctor, and two other able-bodied grunt workers.
For the price I negotiated I feel I have no business asking why this vessel is so well armed. While I realize that we are traveling into a war zone, I have never heard of a civilian ship with its own private fighters, aside from tales of particularly powerful merchants or illegally modified pirate and criminal fleets. Still I doubt I could find anything more suited to my needs. I look upon this journey with equal parts dread and excitement. Some may choose the easy paths, but this is truly how dreams are made. May the Whaels guide my passage and the Yaksha fill my purse.
Until Next We Meet,
~Aetrian Trimaris Stefani
The following entries may seem sporadic and with many, seemingly important gaps. If suspension of disbelief isn't enough you can account it to the sporadic nature of journal entries, and if THAT isn't enough I suppose I could tell the truth, for all the good it'll do you.
In all honesty, these entries are actually fill-in (or in-between) points of a graphic story I am working on. It allows me to delve deeper into the world and characters without committing page and panel space. Also, since I have joined such an awesome community and still have a dismal post count, I figure it would be a good start in introducing myself and for anyone who enjoys the sci-fi genre. (Though I do realize that episodic journal entries make for poor roleplay examples.) For those that enjoy art... don't get your hopes up. The main piece is in story-board form until such a day as I feel comfortable with my artistic talents. If there's any sort of interest in the story I might be inclined to write it out novel-style. At least that way you won't be stuck going "Heywait, what/when/how did THAT happen?"
Prologue
Space. The Final Frontier. The Great Beyond. Heaven. The Void. Over the years people have developed such fascinating names for that emptiness between worlds and stars. Personally I like to think of it as just another ocean. A sea of the purest black. Like the explorers of ancient Earth, we sail it in pursuit of new worlds and riches. Besides, I imagine it's safer in our environmentally sealed ships than in the open-ended pieces of floating furniture they piloted back then.
The name is Aetrian Trimaris Stefani, 30 as of this prologue, and this is my story. I am a merchant by trade, traveling the stars in search of my fortune. Ever seeking to earn the pride and respect of my family. I write this journal for no other reason than personal indulgence, and knowing my own mind Ancients help me if someone else ever reads these pages. May the Whaels guide my passage and the Yaksha fill my purse.
Day 1
Well, technically it's more akin to day 3 if we are to judge by Earth time. I have decided to begin my journey on the station SolPolaris Delta. The station represents the last completely human construct before we were introduced to the riches of the galaxy, so I found it a fitting representation. Not that it's entirely human. Not anymore. Its core power generator was one of the first feats of technology we learned from First Contact. Efficient as a star with a marginal fraction of the size. Which actually happens to be the real reason I have come here. You see, as a farewell gift my dear maestro has provided me with an honest to gold Genesis Core at significant discount. At first I believed it a test. After all, one of the first lessons he taught me was not throw all you have into a single investment. Yet I have spent more than enough time considering this offer, and test or not it is too great an opportunity to pass.
Perhaps he believes me to possess more capital than I actually have after a year out of my apprenticeship. If so I think it is best that this belief remain unchanged. It is a sure sale. With the war crossing so deep into Federation territory, many of the older colonies will pay exorbitantly for a top-line core. My purse swoons at the very thought of such profits.
Most of this last "day" has been spent in search of and negotiations for adequate passage. I need a ship as brave and stupid as myself. Someone willing to fly directly into a war zone. After some rather heated negotiations, I believe I have found just such a vessel. She is a frigate-class marvel, nearly the size of a cruiser, by the name of Aegir. Admittedly the crew is a bit more eccentric than I had anticipated. The captain in particular, a woman named Lynne Soyur who lacks stature but is by no means short on presence. The only member of the crew I know of that left behind a promising military career for the sake of private pursuits. Though I imagine her mannerisms and strange fixation with tattoos may have helped that decision. Her lieutenant, from what I gather quartermaster, exchequer, and first mate all in one, is a man from my own heart. A man known only as Shore, it was him that caused such difficult negotiations. He may not have had official merchant training, that I know, but he has a very good sense of the business and no small amount of clever stoicism. Beyond that the crew has ten other members I have not met. Three pilots, all capable of flying the ship as well as its two private fighters, a pair of mechanics, an arms master, a doctor, and two other able-bodied grunt workers.
For the price I negotiated I feel I have no business asking why this vessel is so well armed. While I realize that we are traveling into a war zone, I have never heard of a civilian ship with its own private fighters, aside from tales of particularly powerful merchants or illegally modified pirate and criminal fleets. Still I doubt I could find anything more suited to my needs. I look upon this journey with equal parts dread and excitement. Some may choose the easy paths, but this is truly how dreams are made. May the Whaels guide my passage and the Yaksha fill my purse.
Until Next We Meet,
~Aetrian Trimaris Stefani