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the science fiction genre. They are cosmopolitan city-states independent from the sovereign rule of any state or tyranny. Each is a complex microcosm of politics, science, logistics, and sociology of human interaction. Space is at a premium, resources are limited, tempers are worse, and nothing but ceramsteel separates its inhabitants from a frozen vacuum. Space stations in the Fading Suns universe are more than just paragons of science in space. They are historic shrines of an age of exploration, sources of urban legend, and a matter of controversy.

Historic Space Stations

In the late second millennium, humanity built its first ever space station. It was the first of a series of monolithic stations built on the ground in one piece and launched into space in one piece. Modular stations would replace them in a couple of decades, with several powers of the time engag- ing in a race to establish permanent orbital stations in the early decades of the third millennium. These stations were small research or flag-waving operations intended to be crewed by only a few astronauts. Other larger commercial space stations did not gain much purchase until the early 2100s when the First Republic colonization efforts demanded their patronage by the zaibatsu. Each planet in Holy Terra’s solar system could claim the prestige of having one of these machines, and though most of them have fallen into disre- pair over the millennia, many Terran museums carefully preserve fragments of their hulls.

In the years between colonization and jump capability, extra-solar colonization efforts led to the development of the infamous slow ships. None of these lumbering monstrosi- ties exist today, as they were made obsolete when the first human starship passed through the jumpgate, though they perhaps still wander the sea of stars, lost in the void of night to this day.

Those ancient space stations that are still functional have received many patch jobs, upgrades, and renovations, but are increasingly difficult to maintain as eons of use cause severe wear and tear on fatigued material that can often not be replaced. The few remaining stations (often relegated to observatory posts) are a horrendous chaos of faulty wires, rolling blackouts, primitive artificial gravity, and dangerous malfunctions.

Perhaps the most infamous space station was the one built near Holy Terra’s jumpgate. It was an incredi- bly expensive investment by the zaibatsu and became the major platform of research on the gate. The station, called Colossus, was twice as large as Jupiter’s own station, still making it the largest in recorded history. Its unwieldy bulk was initially designed to form a massive generation ship, but with the discovery of the jumpgate it was obsolete. Rather than to abandon it, it was slowly shipped out to become the

Chapter Six:

Space Stations

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backbone of what would become the immense ‘Star Dock’ orbiting close to the jumpgate. Yet, its infamy comes not from its stature, nor from its landmark usage. Although mankind had mastered travel through the jumpgate, it still held many mysteries and Colossus Station became the premier scientific installation for jumpgate research. In 2446, the scientists aboard the station determined to undertake experiments that could one day lead to humanity not only mastering the existing gate network but actually construct- ing its own gates. No one knows for sure what happened aboard the Colossus, but the station has not been seen or heard from since that day.

Drunken tales of spacers tell many tales about the Colossus; it has become something of a space-faring version of the Marie Celeste. Some claim to have seen it still in orbital track close to the jumpgate, while others claim to have received aid or a warning from the station that has saved them from pirates or navigational hazards. The disap- pearance of the Colossus has been the subject of many magic lantern productions, some based on tales of recorded (or alleged) survivors while others are simply ghost stories.

Records of space stations during the Diaspora are sketchy and incomplete. Due to the revolution of jump engines, the zaibatsu abandoned most of the resources that would go into the construction of stations in favor of colo- nization ships. The design of these modular ships was such that upon reaching a planet, they would convert into the initial infrastructure of the first colonies, along with the very first primitive terraforming devices. But one station

remains particularly notorious from this era. In 2641, Lucifer Li Halan commissioned the construction of a space station. Designed as the pinnacle of everything that the House stood for at the time, its reputation spread across the worlds rather quickly. Stories abound of excesses of carnal indulgence and decadence, with huge sections of the station designed for the slaughter of slaves, orgies with concubines, and other perversions. This was the space station Xerxes, of which people speak only in hushed whispers.

Little known to modern society, this station still exists. Rumored to be operational, as its power generator has idled for centuries, it sits in perfect orbit just beyond the Icon jumpgate. When House Li Halan surrendered its sinful past, Xerxes was abandoned to the dark — some say the Li Halan preferred to forget it ever existed. Anyone who could recover Xerxes could claim the station under Imperial salvage laws. The Scravers Guild, along with the Charioteers Guild, sent a number of recovery missions in the period after the Li Halan conversion, but few returned. Those that did speak of horrors and demonic hauntings. For these reasons it is not recorded in any official treatise on the system and remains unmentioned to discourage any adventurer from exploring it. Li Halan authorities lock away anyone claiming to have been aboard Xerxes as the Church has issued a ban on visit- ing the station.

The last space station of any particular infamy is Triumvirate Station. The Byzantium Secundus system used to contain Cumulus and Triumvirate Stations. The station now known as Diadem is in essence what remains of the

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Triumvirate — a super-station all but destroyed during the Emperor Wars. The Triumvirate was historically the major defensive fortress of Byzantium Secundus, earning a repu- tation as the strongest station in history. There was an unspoken accord as to its sanctity with all factions treat- ing it like neutral territory, and few people talk about the assault on the Triumvirate. House Decados had infiltrated the station, using their politics and tactics to place people in their pay in positions of power. In 4993 when Emperor Alexius was crowned, House Decados took control of the station and used its geo-synchronous orbit over the Imperial Palace to sabotage the defensive shields of the palace to hold the empire at ransom for the crown.

Alexius initiated his contingency plan. Knowing the risk that came with securing the space station, he had secreted a nuclear warhead aboard the station (more powerful fusion or antimatter warheads would have been more easily detected and they would have destroyed the entire station). In deto- nating this warhead, Alexius destroyed half the station, which would only later be resurrected in part as Diadem, the headquarters of the Imperial navy. This blow helped bury the Decados-Hazat alliance, killing the Hazat’s finest military tacticians and several of House Decados’ major intelligence officers.