Thisspias. Yesterday.
This is where our story opens. Thisspias, a small, relatively insignificant world in the Mid-Rim.
Life went on as usual on Thisspias. For the planet's sparse residents, some six hundred million in all, it was another regular day on a relatively unknown and insignificant planet. In the capital city, wheeled vehicles still outnumbered hover devices, and although blasters had been around for centuries, old fashioned slug throwers were still the weapon of choice for most citizens.
On an average day, such as this one, one might wake late, in time to see the sun settling into its midday rotation. With no major industry or, indeed, anything of any real productive value, Thisspias was in no rush to rise. The sun might have been a good enough timekeeper for the ancient cave-dwellers that had inhabited the planet long ago, but no longer did the glowing orb define when the people rose or when they went to sleep. The people of Thisspias did things as they pleased, largely ignored by the rest of the galaxy, and content to remain that way.
The wars of the Empire and the New Republic, the Jedi and the Sith, had not touched Thisspias, other than the rather distant connection of one Jedi Master of the Old Republic, [font=Arial]Oppo Rancisis, who was born on the world. But the people didn't talk about him, for fear of the Empire finding Thisspias suddenly suitable for invasion.
This is how it was when Marcus Rankin woke from a rather peaceful sleep on the first day of the northern Thisspian summer. The people of this planet worked 30 hours each week, and as it was his day off, Marcus rose with the intention of taking his family to the beach to enjoy the sun and waves before the day schools let out and they were plauged with eager children wanting to relax.
Waking his wife, Laura, they began to pack for their trip, loading the neccessary snacks and drinks into the family's simple vehicle. It was not fancy, far from it, but it was safe and it was reliable, and it served the family well enough.
The beach was, as expected, not terribly busy upon their arrival. Most of the people would be working today, and the schools of course were still in session. Setting up their chairs and umbrella, the family settled in to enjoy their day. Laura activated a book, Marcus called up the daily news on his telescreen and began to read.
Life on Thisspias went on as usual.
Today.
Imperial scout ships are identified only by their number. This particular vessel, 14K-151, left hyperspace somewhere between the Thisspias planetary system and the more frequently travelled Contruum system. 14K-151's mission was to revisit and catalouge worlds that had not recieved Imperial contact in the last decade. On its list of worlds was a small out of the way planet known as Horso, not far from the Thisspias system.
Upon emerging from hyperspace, the ship's communication officer immediatly picked up a transmission on the emergency bands and, following standard Imperial protocol, relayed this to the Captain. The Captain, also following protocol, viewed the message and retransmitted it to the Imperial Fleet Deployment Centre on Imperial Centre, and also to all nearby Imperial vessels.
Then, excersicing an authority officially granted to scout captains but rarely executed, he ordered the ship into hyperspace, their destination another small and unknown world.
Thisspias.
Today. Thisspias.
To the naked eye, the planet looked normal. A thick layer of gray and black clouds covered the world, but that was hardly an unusual occurence from orbit, and it would have made little impact had the sensors not told a different story.
As a scout ship, 14K-151 was equipped with highly sensistive sensors, and as the vessel completed an initial scan of the planet, a harsh reality was being painted across the ship's computer monitors.
The main centres of Thisspian civilization, as indicated by the sensors, were gone. Life managed to thrive in a few areas of the planet, but to a large degree sensors showed that any construction had been obliterated. Large masses of stone debris was evident, clearly the remains of what had once been buildings of significant magnitude.
With growing anxiety the Captain ordered the launch of the ship's probes. With the cloud cover even the highly sensitive cameras aboard 14K-151 could not see the surface proper, but the small remote probes carried by the ship could get under the clouds and take realtime pictures of the surface.
As the images began to flow into the bride, a collective gasp was raised from those crewmembers present. The cameras showed nothing short of devestation: the planetary surface was shifting even as they watched, massive cracks swallowing buildings, trees, and whatever else was in their parth.
Within minutes two monitor banks went dark, the relays showing that the probes had been lost. Seconds later a third monitor bank died. Of six probes launched from 14K-151, three had been lost within a matter of minutes.
The Captain ordered the retrieval of the remaining probes, and a call was placed to Imperial Centre. Thisspias was dying.
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This is where our story opens. Thisspias, a small, relatively insignificant world in the Mid-Rim.
Life went on as usual on Thisspias. For the planet's sparse residents, some six hundred million in all, it was another regular day on a relatively unknown and insignificant planet. In the capital city, wheeled vehicles still outnumbered hover devices, and although blasters had been around for centuries, old fashioned slug throwers were still the weapon of choice for most citizens.
On an average day, such as this one, one might wake late, in time to see the sun settling into its midday rotation. With no major industry or, indeed, anything of any real productive value, Thisspias was in no rush to rise. The sun might have been a good enough timekeeper for the ancient cave-dwellers that had inhabited the planet long ago, but no longer did the glowing orb define when the people rose or when they went to sleep. The people of Thisspias did things as they pleased, largely ignored by the rest of the galaxy, and content to remain that way.
The wars of the Empire and the New Republic, the Jedi and the Sith, had not touched Thisspias, other than the rather distant connection of one Jedi Master of the Old Republic, [font=Arial]Oppo Rancisis, who was born on the world. But the people didn't talk about him, for fear of the Empire finding Thisspias suddenly suitable for invasion.
This is how it was when Marcus Rankin woke from a rather peaceful sleep on the first day of the northern Thisspian summer. The people of this planet worked 30 hours each week, and as it was his day off, Marcus rose with the intention of taking his family to the beach to enjoy the sun and waves before the day schools let out and they were plauged with eager children wanting to relax.
Waking his wife, Laura, they began to pack for their trip, loading the neccessary snacks and drinks into the family's simple vehicle. It was not fancy, far from it, but it was safe and it was reliable, and it served the family well enough.
The beach was, as expected, not terribly busy upon their arrival. Most of the people would be working today, and the schools of course were still in session. Setting up their chairs and umbrella, the family settled in to enjoy their day. Laura activated a book, Marcus called up the daily news on his telescreen and began to read.
Life on Thisspias went on as usual.
Today.
Imperial scout ships are identified only by their number. This particular vessel, 14K-151, left hyperspace somewhere between the Thisspias planetary system and the more frequently travelled Contruum system. 14K-151's mission was to revisit and catalouge worlds that had not recieved Imperial contact in the last decade. On its list of worlds was a small out of the way planet known as Horso, not far from the Thisspias system.
Upon emerging from hyperspace, the ship's communication officer immediatly picked up a transmission on the emergency bands and, following standard Imperial protocol, relayed this to the Captain. The Captain, also following protocol, viewed the message and retransmitted it to the Imperial Fleet Deployment Centre on Imperial Centre, and also to all nearby Imperial vessels.
Then, excersicing an authority officially granted to scout captains but rarely executed, he ordered the ship into hyperspace, their destination another small and unknown world.
Thisspias.
Today. Thisspias.
To the naked eye, the planet looked normal. A thick layer of gray and black clouds covered the world, but that was hardly an unusual occurence from orbit, and it would have made little impact had the sensors not told a different story.
As a scout ship, 14K-151 was equipped with highly sensistive sensors, and as the vessel completed an initial scan of the planet, a harsh reality was being painted across the ship's computer monitors.
The main centres of Thisspian civilization, as indicated by the sensors, were gone. Life managed to thrive in a few areas of the planet, but to a large degree sensors showed that any construction had been obliterated. Large masses of stone debris was evident, clearly the remains of what had once been buildings of significant magnitude.
With growing anxiety the Captain ordered the launch of the ship's probes. With the cloud cover even the highly sensitive cameras aboard 14K-151 could not see the surface proper, but the small remote probes carried by the ship could get under the clouds and take realtime pictures of the surface.
As the images began to flow into the bride, a collective gasp was raised from those crewmembers present. The cameras showed nothing short of devestation: the planetary surface was shifting even as they watched, massive cracks swallowing buildings, trees, and whatever else was in their parth.
Within minutes two monitor banks went dark, the relays showing that the probes had been lost. Seconds later a third monitor bank died. Of six probes launched from 14K-151, three had been lost within a matter of minutes.
The Captain ordered the retrieval of the remaining probes, and a call was placed to Imperial Centre. Thisspias was dying.
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