Results 1 to 2 of 2

Thread: Stellaris MegaCorp Lets-Play/Roleplay AAR

  1. #1
    Shacklock's Avatar Semisalis
    Join Date
    Jul 2008
    Manchester, England

    Default Stellaris MegaCorp Lets-Play/Roleplay AAR

    A Stellaris Twitch stream following the descendents of earth's first colony ship, deposited by wormhole and cast into a harsh and foreign realm.

    In the late 21st century a wormhole was detected out beyond the Oort cloud, the first such recorded event in human history. A probe was sent through as fast as humanly possible and the brief telemetry bursts it was able to send back seemed to strongly suggest the end point of the wormhole was somewhere in the vicinity of the Trappist star-system - discovered earlier in the century and known to contain multiple goldilocks worlds. Four colony ships were assembled. The bravest of humanity selected - or rather those most deemed valuable gene-stock and of sufficient economic importance to warrant assuaging. However disaster struck, as it often does. Upon entering the wormhole, the Chrysanthemum's sensors were crippled, it's systems fried. The wormhole collapsing in upon itself like a tincan crushed in the fist of god. Worse yet non of it's sister ships were in sight. Nor did the stars match previous cartography. The Chrysanthemum was lost, adrift and alone with a half million colonists who's cryosleep could not last indefinitely. Making hard burn for the nearest solar-system the great colony ship crawled across the void for a decade, eking a slow, steady course through the black for the heat of a Star. Hope. Ephermal as it was for those awake in those dark times. Eventually though their voyage out from the dark was complete, the colonists made planetfall. Life. Sanctuary. Oros.

    (The initial founding of Ishukonislav, in a verdant boreal valley that sits several thousand miles above the Sǐwáng Dolina mountain range.)

    However for those early colonists - as it would be for their progeny - harmony came less quick than discord. By the time the Chrysanthemum had reached a stable orbit high above Oros, much of the ship had been awakened already. Tensions ran high over resources and pecking-order. An ethno-linguistic and cultural schism had fast quartered the ship into factions. By far the largest denomination, the Sino-Rus - as well as the majority of Balto-Slavs - secured for themselves the primest spot for a settlement - via a timely and armed insurrection - and promptly made planetfall ahead of the rest of the Ark-ship. Setting down in a small, geothermal fed valley, amidst a vast mountain-range that studded the spine of the planet they christened their new township Ishukonislav.

    Followed by this first settlement, several contingents made up primarily of colonists from the Western European Economic Zone struck out themselves, founding two outposts of humanity in the bleak winter peaks. Relatively close together, though near a world apart from the initial site, Novos Olympos and Swizlandet were as close - physically and diplomatically - as any valley-settlements could claim to be in the long glacial winter of early Orosian history. Four other founding settlements made up the initial human territories on Oros. Those settlements were of a mixed Polynesian, Afrikaans and Slavic descent and - till the second great exodus - represented the most diverse ethnic stock of all the founding polities.

    Though reliable records of this era are scarce - in part due to the severe lack of technology each settlement brought down the gravity well with them, each component fought over as prized loot - it would seem communication ceased at this point, bar that between Novos Olympos and Swizlandet. Each polity busying itself with the arduous task of simple survival amongst the great snowy peaks and troughs of Oros.

    The denizens of Oros survived and even flourished within their isolated valley towns, small specks of heat and life in an otherwise hostile land. Each settlement forging a proudly insular path deep within the sparse fertile eruptions of forest and slope. Steadily, each polity strove to recreate a small piece of Old Earth, remade in their own fashion. Though despite their isolated nature a pan-Orosian culture developed slowly, non the less. No greater stories were told than those of the free traders. The pioneers of a pioneering people, these free traders dared the perilous thousand mile treks between each valley polity, bringing much needed exotic goods - as well as more commonplace necessities not found in every local - as well as fresh news of the outside world. They forged a fragile yet cherished link between each township and the wider world, whilst simultaneously reinforcing the competitive nature of each.

    Eventually, as was inevitable once mere survival transcended to prosperity, the polities directed their gaze toward the heavens. In 2211 (by Old Earth Standard), fuelled by the knowledge each and every other polity was racing to do the same, Ishukonislav successfully replicated their initial-entry-vehicle and sent a team back up to the hulk of the Chrysanthemum rotting in orbit.Taking control of the colony-ship the Sino-Slavic engineers stabilised its decaying orbit and set to work finishing the cannibalization work the colonists had begun several generations before. Intending to monopolise fusion-drive technology for themselves and thus effectively control the bountiful and - relative to tapping the resources on Oros - easily attained resource wealth of Gamma Velorum. However this bold plan was partly foiled by the arrival of an armed party of free traders from Atol Gunung in their own repurposed orbital rocket. This, the first, and last, millitary conflict between the Valley-States became known as the League Crisis as it precipitated the formation of the largerly symbolic pan-Orasian institutation. Facing the prospect of one or more sides - as orbital technology rapidly diffused across the seven states by way of free traders - launching the Chrysanthemum down the gravity-well and onto their competition, an arrangement was reached largerly negoiated by the Free Trader families. Creating the League and the office of League Hegemon to oversee the joint colonization of the starsystem.

    No longer constrained to their tightly packed polities and the surrounding slopes, the peoples of Oros near fell over themselves to colonise every inch of Gamma Velorum. The Seven Valley-States rang day and night to the sound of industry. Cajoled by generous contracts, industrial companies ventured further and further from the relative comfort of the geothermal valleys, searching for materials to fuel the awoken industrial might of Oros as it pushed itself out into the solar-system. The smaller states, forced by their relatively miniscule economic power, began to co-operate in ernest sending out great convoys of Free Traders and colonists to secure rocks and moons for themselves. As the mineral wealth of the system poured back into the Valleys, technology began to increase leaps and bounds. Wealth creation and innovation - once stagnate and in second place to the neccesity of survival - rocketed and the expansive wilderness of Oros finally began to submit itself to the mastery of humankind.

    Now their tenacity and pioneer spirit has seen the Orosians through their trial by frost, the second great exodus of humanity into the stars begins as the discovery of the philotic hyperlane network unlocks the wider galaxy.


    //Accessing Data Nodes// Enter Passkey: **** // Data Node Central Orosian Archival Records // Video Records //

    Twitch Logs

    Ep.1 The Second Great Exodus

    Ep.2 Newt Friends?

    Ep.3 Standoff At Chengbao

    Ep4 All's Unprofitable In Love & War

    Ep5 1/2 Galatic Goings On

    Ep5 2/2 Galatic Goings On

    Ep6 Valour In Defeat
    (Skip to 10-Minutes in for episode 6)

    (If people like the idea of a slower narrative campaign, potentially audience interactive, give me some feedback.)
    Last edited by Shacklock; December 15, 2018 at 09:29 PM.

  2. #2
    Shacklock's Avatar Semisalis
    Join Date
    Jul 2008
    Manchester, England

    Default Re: Stellaris MegaCorp Lets-Play/Roleplay AAR

    Episodic Data-Entries -- Trade League of Oros

    //Accessing Data Nodes//Access Granted/Enter Pass//****//Data Node Central Orosian Archival Records//Root//File Accessed Hegemony Personal Records//II Hegemon// Rustleford Danforth Shackleford/

    // Personal Logs // Final Entry:audio>text format

    Shadows, shadows of shadows even. That is all I was given. The ability to cast shadow-puppets onto a hab wall ...and perhaps tax the onlookers. If I were lucky. Ha. Hegemon indeed. A hollow title it was. Not anymore. By god no. When they speak of my legacy in ages to come they'll say it was I, Rustleford Danforth Shackleford the 3rd that formed the bonds of true Orosian government. The Seven States competing endlessly without check or balance, one upping each other till we're all out in the cold without a thermal. What sort of future is that? I had to be stern and I was. Stern, but fair. If I had to crack a few skulls to make my points they were points well made. I have the fleet, I have the power. They all have to play nice now. Bow and scrape, say yes hegemon, no hegemon, the tax returns will be tight-beamed to you by Friday hegemon. Ha. Space is ours for the taking, if we can only bloody well do it together. As one. As Orosians, not as Olympians, or Gunung Men. We must be united now in one purpose. My purpose. I won't deny I enjoyed every damned minute of it. Humbling the lot of them. But it was done with purpose beyond mine own amusement. Other life is out there. Some might still laugh but i'm no fool. The Pathfinders have been going near two decades now and some of the reports. By the bloody Ice Mountain, it chills my blood. We have to be ready for anything. Friend or Foe.

    Oh be damned, I know what they say behind my back. He's power-mad. Ego driven. Rusty wants a fleet and a palace-city to lord it over us all. Maybe I did damnit, but they're necessary. A hegemon can't bloody well govern a whole systems worth of trade whilst he's shuttling between seven damned cities worried every minute some jackbooted Sino-Slav is about to blow him out the sky with a gunboat parked in orbit. Prosperity is more than a symbol, its a bureaucratic necessity. It is though. A symbol, you know? Built with hands and metals from every city - well near enough - but the sole home of non of them. It's all of ours, like the void. I'm going to miss this office.... the views of the Étendue Blanche are like nothing else. The way the suns' light refracts off the snow, reminds me of.... Oh who the hell cares. This is Hegemon Rustleford Danforth Shackleford's last official log. Best of luck to you Sima you old bastard. You'll need it, heh... Geraud alert the ground-crew. It's time we were leaving. **audio lowers** Like Solon I must save my state, only to slip away on the tide never to enjoy the fruits of its freedom for myself. Heh, It is what it is. \\ audio-log ends // returning to root directory//


    //Accessing Data Nodes//Access Granted/Enter Pass//****//Data Node Central Orosian Archival Records//Root//File Accessed Hegemony Personal Records//III Hegemon // Peng Sima /
    // Personal Logs // 19/11 2223 :audio>text format

    We recieved the tight-beam today. The researchers are on the surface of Ripley's World...sorry Estland now. They drove a hard contract I'll grant them that. Proprietry rights to the entire planet. Name and all. Well congratulations. Despite mine and the prior Hegemon's official and numerous warnings. Settling an alien biome alive and rife with an organism we do not understand is reckless. They can call it a Research Lab, but it is a colony. Those are our people down there right now, setting up their homes. Risking all for the promise of a new begining. Something Better. Well... No matter, no matter. The Swizlandet Representitive knows the Hegemonic position. Whilst my soul may suffer, any blame and any legal costs will rest firmly with the mother-state.

    Trappist, now on that subject I may report happier tidings. The initial colony site has been selected, the lottery done and dusted and the colonists are ready to ship out. Jamur will be its name. I will still think of it as mushrooms, despite Gunung's protestations otherwise. They asssure me the name is entirely more poetic in the native-tongue. It is fitting though. My number crunchers inform me the planet could be providing food for the entire expansion project as early as next decade. We are on course. Finding the system was a huge win for our administration. Immagine the luck. All those years ago on Old Earth our ancestors thought this was to be their destination. Now finally it is. A grand day to be sure.


    \\ audio-log ends // spooling next entry: // Security Council Transcripts // 1/05 2233 :video-audio format

    The blazing majesty of Gamma Velorum's sun swept across the wood paneled council chamber of the Hegemonic Palace, situated at the exact geometric center of Prosperity City. Within the chamber a veritable crowd of officials and official hangers-on crowded the imposing oak-analogue desk of the Hegemon. Wearily, the Hegemon himself, Peng Sima, sat ill, like a man under siege. Hands resting up graying hair as his thumbs kneaded into his temples, as if the pain could remove both the problem and the headache in one stroke.

    'We must strike the Yaanari now, before their fleets can match ours in strength!', cried one thunderous voice, 'Are you mad? Patience is the key, patience and overtures of diplomacy. They were amenable to us once, they understand the value of commerce and compassion.' This time from the Swizlandet ambassador, his delivery spoiled by the nervous manner in which he stroked at his immaculately waxed moustache. Clear speech descended once more into a cacophony of indignation and fear.

    With an inward sigh, Sima rubbed at his wide jaw, a gift of his mixed Slavic heritage, much as his pallor - despite the generations of frigid sunlight - betrayed his Chinese descent. Nodding toward the view-screen that dominated the eastern wall of the chamber, an aid triggered the screen, throwing up a detailed stellar-map of known space. Quieting down the assembled dignitaries and H.N.C officers stared expectantly at the sudden, bright intrusion. 'This gentlemen...' the Hegemon intoned, nodding again as he leaned forward with folded hands. The grand spread of stars collapsed in upon itself on the viewscreen until it settled down upon the eastern expanse of the Vela cluster. Demarcated clearly in red and blue were the known borders of both the Orosian Trade League and the recently contacted Yaanari Free Traders. Arranged thus, the diminutive lizards' territory seemed to sweep from the galatic east of the Orosian frontier to surround them to the galatic south. The aid, with the practiced air of someone that knows how to disappear into the scenery, keyed another button on his hand-pad. Triggering a new set of graphics superimposed upon the star-map.

    With the stylistic overlay of the hyperlane network the map told a different tale. All possible passage to and from the known territories of the Yaanari funneled through one single star-system at the most distant southern edge of human claimed space. 'This gentlemen is Yuan Xing, our gateway and our watchtower. You may have noticed... and I know you have, judging from the official-complaints piling upon my desk... that my office has been appropriating a frankly rather crippling quota on production and sales of military-grade alloys this past two years. This star-system is the reason why.'

    Once more the scene changed, the star-system itself blown up to a staggering scale, the red dwarf's artificial light competing almost with the bright glow of Gamma Velorum. Hanging in a fixed orbit at a mind-numbing distance from the sun itself sat a station of massive proportions. A cylindrical slab of a drum, all welded steel and titanium housing the core of the station whilst control towers and hab-units thrust out like cathedral spires from all possible angles. Peng Sima stood, his practiced businessman air compensating for his advancing age. Imposing still even surrounded by military-men and the scions of great families. 'Chengbao station gentleman. If the Yaanari wish to throw friendship to the wind and succumb to the chittering poison of their...priestly classes... then we shall close our borders to them. This station will see that such an act is no hollow promise. An embargo. An embargo backed by the might of the Hegemonic Navy and Chengbao's weapon platforms. Yes it will be costly. To project our military power so far from Oros when we are in the midst of the great project. But we are the men of Oros. And I say we can do this. The fleet is already enroute to Chengbao and the station itself I am informed is mere weeks from full operational status. The Yaanari are creatures of commerce before they are creatures of spirituality. Mark my words, they will feel the pain of this and in doing so know the folly of their own actions. Oros will prevail gentlemen. We cannot fail.'

    \\ video-audio-log ends // returning to root directory//


    //Access Granted/Enter Pass//****//Data Node Central Orosian Archival Records//Root//File Accessed Hegemony Personal Records//Hegemon V Guiseppe Galvani
    // Reclaimed Personal Logs // 2287 :audio>text format

    Where to begin... **audio distorts with an audible sigh and the sinking of the speaker into a chair** so much has changed these past few decades. The Oros I remember as a child is nomore. Our understanding of the galaxy itself is much changed. Non, irevocabbly altered. War, a concept we all long thought dead and buried, the Crisis not withstanding, now rages across the heavens. The stars we thought lay free, ours for the taking we know now are not, were not, ever ours. Our eyes are open. Notre destin est révélé. Alien life flourishes all around us and much of it, to my great dismay, is hostile. Now even our own people begin to succumb to such poisenous ideologies. It has been eighteen years since Lucrezia Bello founded the Human Future Front. Eighteen years to bring us to this.... **audio distorts with another deep sigh** Our latest tightbeam update puts the Fierte Oros in the Yultup system, deep within Yaanari space. Months from any aide. All in a desperate gambit to reach Zithras and relieve our only true friends in this dark cosmos. It may still be too late. The pride and joy of the H.N.C may be destroyed, the Zithorians enslaved.... And it will be my doing. Cazzo! Governor Bello agitates for a state of total-war. Deploy the whole Hegemonic Fleet. Her and her ilk would see us cast aside our heritage and conquor the stars with fire and sword.

    I will not have it... Yet the stakes are so high. Too much to think on, too much to ponder. Then there is the other matter. An even more profound issue, merde, to think such an issue could be eclipsed. A Gunnungsman trader has reportedly made wide-beam contact with humans. Humans not originating from Oros. To think? To finally have discovered Old Earth. The dream of so many Orosians huddled around their chem-fires in the dead of winter's night. It will have to be confirmed, of course...of course. We cannot hastily announce this to the wider populace. Certaintly not if his second claim is to be belived and I dearly hope it is not to be. The free-trader claims that these humans he contacted assert that Old Earth has fallen under the dominion of aliens. A vast predatory stellar-kingdom ruled over by ruthless arthropodic creatures. Bugs, vermin... Lording it over old earth. Is this to be my legacy to Oros? To humanity? To preceede over the ruin of humanity twice over. I just do not.... Wait, console delete last entry \\ file corrupt // data reclaimation terminated // returning to root directory

Tags for this Thread

Posting Permissions

  • You may not post new threads
  • You may not post replies
  • You may not post attachments
  • You may not edit your posts