Lore Archive

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The following is a Lore Archive containing all of the official works of fiction surrounding PlanetSide 2 and its story. Though most entries do not note a specific author, they are assumed to be written by comic book author Marv Wolfman, who was brought on by Sony Online Entertainment specifically to pen the game's newly revised lore. Each article is republished in its entirety (with the exception of visual media), including all original typographical errors and, where possible, formatting. Entries are currently ordered by the date of their original publication in order to best maintain authorial intent.


[edit] Archive Entries

Author: Marv Wolfman (Presumed) Published: 2011-10-12 Source Document Lore Archive

JAKE DUFFY, Terran Republic Quartermaster, AMP Station Gamma. June 21, 2845.

Duffy’s voice could be heard through the walls of his Plexi-enclosed office. “What the freakin’ hell are you standing there for, Jones? You playing with yourself? I told you to get those !%$#$@ weapons to the loading dock-A…now.”

He glanced at the manifest, then glared at Private Genny Jones, quaking in fear, a tiny, little thing, no more than five feet one, if even that, with shoulder length flaming red hair and a temper to match. She had been assigned to weapons’ supply only two weeks ago when they were still at relative peace with the New Conglomerate and they thought she’d have time to learn her job while the two sides tried to reach some tentative compromise. Nobody expected those idiots to start shooting at each other before dawn the very next morning.

“115 Mini chain guns. We need two crates of bolt drivers. They’re also going to need cyclers and repeater pistols. And don’t forget the dome blasters. You got all that, Jones?”
“Yessir,” she shouted back. “I gathered them soon as I saw the manifest this ayem, sir. And they’re already loaded onto the Galaxys. I was just waiting for coordinates to dispatch them, sir.”

Duffy looked her over. Two weeks on the job and she nailed it. Damn. “Good work, Private. Punching them in now. And one other thing, Jones.”

“I’m the Quartermaster, not an officer. Call me that, or Q, or Duffy. Not sir.”
“Sorry, won’t happen again…Duffy.”
“Make sure it doesn’t private. Now get on board. You’re with Booth and Erickson.”

She was already on the move.

The troops took their places in the Galaxy and braced for lift-off. Two minutes later Duffy’s voice crackled over her head-armor earphones. “The brass just told me to relay your mission. So, listen up, soldiers, I’m not repeating it. Two platoons of T.R. soldiers are trapped on the volcanic island of Searhus, under fire by ^&%# New Conglomerate dirtbags. Appears they took control of Mount Lavastorm on the mistaken belief we’re gonna let ‘em free their captured forces from the Kane Prison Compound. If they succeed, the N.C. armies would be equal to T.R. forces. Our job’s to make certain that will never happen. You got that?”

Genny Jones joined the chorus with a loud, “Understood, Quartermaster Duffy. Understood.”

As the Galaxy sped across Auraxis toward Searhus, Jones mentally catalogued what she had been taught about the enemy. The New Conglomerate were originally from three very different groups who came together for their mutual benefit. First and foremost there were the businessmen. They may not have been the highest of the muckety-mucks, but they ran the most powerful companies back on Earth and the Terran colonies and were sent to establish a foothold on the other side of the universe to exponentially increase company profits. They were the VPs and managers of the original conglomerates and now they were going to control the new businesses. Of course, Jones realized the bosses weren’t expecting to do any of the hard labor by themselves, so they brought along the civilian workforce, men and women paid to join the mission to build the new cities, factories and more. Once done they would return to Earth to collect their creds. Finally, because the businessmen never went anywhere without protection, they brought along the third group that made up the N.C.’s: the highly paid and highly dangerous mercenaries.

Unlike the bulk of Connery’s crew who intended to colonize and live on the new worlds they discovered, these groups were in it for creds only. They planned to return home as soon as they could. They had no loyalty to Connery or the mission. All they cared about was what they could get out of it. The New Conglomerate, as they came to call themselves, were always willing to work with them. But, Genny remembered reading that once they found themselves on the other side of the wormhole with no way to return home, meaning no way to get their creds, they slowly moved apart from the others.

Genny remembered her Sergeant’s words, drilled into her squad of new recruits. “You wanna know the difference between us an’ them,” he shouted. “Once those N.C. bastards landed on Auraxis, they came to the high ‘n’ mighty conclusion that the Terran Republic’s laws, which they had followed ‘til then, were suddenly incompatible with their own selfish needs. They could never accept that the laws were enacted to protect all the people, seein’ we were so many lightyears from home. Like always, those N.C. buttholes only thought about themselves an’ nobody else.”

She took out her tab and flipped through the vids of her family back on Cyssor and hopefully safe. Her mom smiled at her and blew her a kiss. Her Dad looked at her like he always did. To him she was still nine years old and in pigtails. Her sister, Lea, mouthed the words, “Be safe, sis,” which made Genny grin. Sandy, her older brother, just waved solemnly. He was the one who fought the most with her not to join the T.R. army. Sandy, a theoretical physicist, was caught up with the Vanu cultists and was against some of T.R. laws but those Vanu nuts were nothing compared to the N.C.traitors. They argued endlessly over who was right and who was wrong, and she recognized that he made some good points, but ultimately she had to fight for the cause she most believed in. Still, she loved him and knew he loved her, and they both prayed that war would not divide their family as it was doing to Auraxis.

Back in his office, Quartermaster Duffy watched the Galaxys take off for Searhus. Before they took off he had done his traditional one last walk through. He saw the shock of red hair in the back. Genny Jones was talking with Billy Pelz, a recent recruit no older that eighteen unless he had lied about his age. A lot of the kids did these days. They talked excitedly about going off to war. Idiots. They got no idea what war is all about, Duffy thought before giving a silent prayer that they all came home again.

He turned away and scanned the news vids looking for any word whether the group that was now calling themselves the Vanu Sovereignty was remaining neutral, taking sides or launching their own offensive. So far nothing. He prayed they would stay out of it. Life on Auraxis had suddenly gone to hell and Duffy didn’t need another conflict to make it worse.

He shook his head wondering how it had come to this. By the time they found Auraxis and landed, the people had joined together for mutual protection. They tamed the savage planet, terraformed it, grew food enough for everyone, built cities and fortifications, and worked together so they could survive together.

So much changed in 175 years.

He sighed, breathed in a deep breath, then called in Ben Davids, yet another new kid who joined up only this past week. “What the freakin’ hell are you standing there for, Davids?” Duffy shouted. “You playing with yourself? I told you to get those !%$#$@ weapons to the loading dock-B… now.”

Author: Marv Wolfman (Presumed) Published: 2011-10-13 Source Document Lore Archive

SANDY JONES, Vanu Sovereignty, Chief of Research and Development.

Jones looked up from his computers to the bank of monitors lining the wall above where he sat. He had been warned that morning by his sister, Genny, a Private in the Terran Republicmilitary, that something big was going down on the volcanic island of Searhus.

“Why are you doing this, G?” he asked her. “There’s no reason you have to join the military. There’s no reason you have to take sides. They’re both insane, you know, the Terran Republic andNew Conglomerate alike. They’re going to kill each other and take down a lot of innocent bystanders.”

Genny laughed. “Unlike you Vanu lunatics? You believe in the magic powers of some alien God…”

“Not a God. Just an alien. We know they existed. We’ve excavated their cities. We’ve analyzed their artifacts. And ever since what happened to Briggs we’ve gotten sporadic telepathic feedback. Vanu and his people were real.”
“Operative word, Sandy, is ‘were.’” They died off a zillion years ago. And don’t dare correct me. Five hundred years or a zillion don’t make a hell of a difference when they’re dead. Look, I get it, brother. You scientists don’t take sides. You analyze. You poke. You rip the atoms out of whatever the hell you’re researching just to see what happens. Then you do it again and again to see if the results are the same.”
“The scientific method. It’s worked since the dawn of science.”
“I know. And I love you for your dedication. But those of us who don’t hide our emotions behind test tubes and equations get excited about things. We’ve only been on this world two hundred years. That’s not enough time for mankind to want to wipe everyone out again. We need peace. I believe in that so much I want to be part of the process.”

Sandy gave her that look he knew she hated that said, I’m now going to speak sense into you, kid, so you’d better listen. “Which is why I’m telling you that you should stand aside and let both sides blast each other until the idiots are dead and stay dead. Then this planet will belong to the rest of us who believe in peaceful research. Besides, you do know your Terran Republicfriends aren’t all sweet innocence and light. They’re dictators of the worst kind.”

He saw her face flush red with anger. “And the New Conglomerate are any better? They’ve worked against the colonies since day one. They refused to do their jobs unless they were paid and when there was no way they’d go back home and get their creds, they took off. The T.R. wants us to work together…”

Sandy leaned in and interrupted. “Under their rules and draconian laws. And if you disagree, you are either arrested or executed.”

Genny talked over her brother as if he hadn’t said a word. “…while the N.C. went off and built their damn underground cities and let the rest of us rot.”

“Exactly. For them it’s all or nothing, my way or the highway” Sandy said. “Which is why I stay neutral. It’s why I and the rest of us refuse to get involved with that insanity. Sis, all I want is for you to be safe. Look, why don’t you let me take you to our camp. See what I see. Understand what we’re about. When you’re shown the truth of Vanu, I know you’ll want to join us.”
“Sandy, come on, be serious. I love you. Really. And because I do I read about Vanu. I understand him. And that’s why I am not going AWOL to watch your friends talk their mystic gibberish.”
“Gibberish? Genny, you’ve only read T.R. and N.C. propaganda. You have no idea what Vanuis about. Please. Let me show you.”

Genny gave her brother a dismissive kiss on the cheek. “I’m sorry, but no. I can’t and I won’t. Besides, you and I both know it won’t come down to war. They’re talking. They’ll find some compromise. They always do. We’re all stuck on Auraxis so ultimately we’ll have to work together whether we want to or not,” she said as she gave her brother a kiss, and promised she’d be back in time for Wednesday’s family dinner. It was Genny’s birthday and Sandy’s wife, Elayne, was preparing Genny’s favorite, Turkey faux.

She gave one parting grin, flicked her brother’s earlobe as she always did, then left. Tomorrow was going to be one helluva day.

Sandy looked up at the live news feed that scrolled across the monitors. The reporter, Richard Morgannis, named for his great, great, great grandfather, Richmond, and the great grandson of the still beloved Jessicana Morgannis, looked serious as he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Representatives of both the Terran Republic and the New Conglomerate report that all peace treaty meetings have been cancelled.”
“There’s no way we can reason with those traitors,” said George Harris, the T.R. spokesman.

New Conglomerate spokesman Diane Draper responded by saying, “We didn’t walk from the peace table, George. Your side did.”

Harris’ face filled the screen again. “We left because your people ordered your mercenaries to attack T.R. settlements in the Kaorr desert region.”

“No, you marched in and slaughtered dozens of settlers.” Draper responded.
“Settlers? They were building weapons of war out there, Diane, and don’t act like you didn’t know it! You terrorists were intending to use them against innocent citizens of the Terran Republic!” Harris yelled.

Morgannis’s face replaced the two feuding representatives. “T.R. officials say they deny all N.C.claims and that unless the N.C. leadership is willing to…” Morgannis touched his earpod; he was receiving new information.

“We are now getting reports that a large scale battle is taking place on the island of Searhus, in the vicinity of the Kane Prison Compound. Both sides have sworn that the battle will not stop until their opposite numbers are all dead. Our reporters on the scene are replaying information indicating that weapons of mass destruction are being used and that the death toll on both sides is quickly rising. They say… wait… I’m no longer connected with our people on Searhus. All I’m getting is static. It appears communications are...”

Sandy Jones stared at the monitor screens alive only with static. Genny was somewhere in that warzone. He had to know what was happening.

“Sandy,” a voice coming from behind him called his name. He turned to see Chairman Willis Scott enter the room. “Those fools did it. This planet is now at war.”
“We’re staying neutral, sir. Aren’t we?” Sandy asked.

Scott shook his head. “We’re not siding with either of them, if that’s what you mean. But we also can’t stay on the side any longer. To save the world that Vanu once ruled, in order for humanity to reach its full potential, we must take up arms and destroy them both. We must eradicate all that stands against us. Today we have declared our Sovereignty, a Vanu Sovereignty. Only one force can live on Auraxis, and it must be us.”

Author: Marv Woflman (Presumed) Published: 2011-10-14 Source Document Lore Archive

JOE WALSH, New Conglomerate Master Sergeant, Searhus. June 21, 2845.

Walsh watched helplessly as Privates Ken Edmund, Jr. and Adira Sullivan, both doing their best to hold Lavastorm’s south ridge, fell dead to the ground, Terran Republic bullets penetrating their chest armor then exploding inside them. Although he didn’t know Sullivan, Walsh had been friends with Ben’s father from their Academy days. These kids were good. Walsh would make certain the T.R. murderers paid.

“Miller. Cohen. Move into their positions. You see any T.R. scum, take them out.” The two scrambled over the crusted lava field and filled the empty spaces. “In place, Sarge,” Miller shouted, “and ready.”

The Terran Republic had been the single political force on Earth since the Armistice and the formation of the new Government. They had set up an open and transparent Government that kept the peace for nearly two hundred years. Walsh had no problem with them, but he certainly did with the current crazies who used their name to rule over Auraxis, not as a democracy but as a harsh and cruel dictatorship. Strict curfews, which had been put into place during their travels when discipline needed to be maintained, were not rescinded after they landed on Auraxis. In fact, they were made more harsh.

“Don’t worry,” the T.R. council told the people, “we have a planet to reshape, cities to build, and we don’t know what the hell might be out there. As soon as we can, all restrictions will be lifted, but for the safety of our 60 thousand citizens, we have to keep all rules and laws in place."

But what really clawed Walsh’s ass was that the people voted with the T.R.; they voted down their own freedoms.

In a move directly planned to keep the New Conglomerate from resisting Terran Republiccontrol, all political gatherings were banned. Groups of more than three, unless they were a family, were not permitted the right of assembly. Refusal to follow T.R. laws were punishable by imprisonment, and in some cases death. N.C. officers were rounded up and imprisoned without proof of wrongdoing or even a trial. The N.C. pleaded for the return of all personal freedoms, but the T.R. refused. They were trying to work a compromise when both sides walked from the table and war broke out.

So much for Thomas Connery’s belief that men could work together in peace.

Walsh and his unit grabbed their heavy gauss rifles, tri-barreled “jackhammer” shotguns and carbines and carefully moved down Lavastorm. Walsh knew the T.R.’s tactics. They hid behind realistic 3D holo-boulders, lying in wait until N.C. soldiers passed. Walsh held his jackhammer close and fired it in a wide arc as they passed all possible hiding places. But when he heard gunfire erupt just behind him he knew he screwed up. The T.R. were hiding in a real crevice, large enough for a half dozen men. When Walsh’s unit moved past they leaped from their spots and opened fire. Nine of his boys died. Three were wounded and captured. Return fire only killed four of their ambushers.

Walsh and his men scrambled for safety behind an outgrowth of rock. They had high ground; they’d be safe, if only for a few minutes. He gave the signal and Miller, Cohen and the Dorsey twins revealed the seven Phoenix missile launchers they had hidden along the volcano’s rim.

“Now!” Walsh screamed. Jimmy Dorsey fired launcher one. His brother set off Launcher two. Walsh and the others set off the rest. Rockets careened down alongside Lavastorm’s wall and exploded. Four T.R.s, broken and lifeless, were thrown from cubby holes. Through his binocs Walsh could see two of the T.R. bastards. One, a kid, probably 19. “Screw you, moron for picking the wrong side,” Walsh shouted. The other looked like a girl, a little older, with flaming red hair.
Author: Marv Woflman (Presumed) Published: 2011-10-20 Source Document Lore Archive

From the Holovid Diary of THOMAS CONNERY, Commander, Terran Republic, Discovery-1. January 6th, 2642

Perhaps I should have known it was a pipe-dream. If I had, I wouldn’t have all this blood on my hands. If I had, seventy-five thousand men, women and children would be safe in their bedrooms on Earth, and not wherever here is, on the other side of the universe, lost and with no hope of ever returning home.

There is no way back. Starmaps are useless. Our scanners haven’t detected even a single oxygen based planet anywhere near us. And as awful as our plight is, there are rumors that there’s been talk of armed insurrection. I hope for all our sakes that talk is all it is. I’m afraid if that sort of rebellion begins I won’t be able to hold back the Military who’s been begging me for weeks to let them deal with the “mess” as they call it. As much as it goes against everything I believe I may not have any choice.

Despite it all, and I’m probably an idiot for saying this, I still have confidence. Perhaps not as much as I had on May 13, 2638 when we launched our fleet of 128 ships, but I believed then and I believe now:

We will find a planet.

We will find extraterrestrial life.

And we will do more than survive… We will thrive.

Unfortunately, I worry I may be one of the only few who does believe.

Rich is another who hasn‘t given up on us. Then again, he and I have been friends for so long we think alike. He thinks today’s meeting will reset our course. We’ve had two hundred years of peace and prosperity and he’s certain people won’t want to go back to the old days. I hope he’s right.

Thomas Connery, Holovid diary out.
Author: Marv Woflman (Presumed) Published: 2011-10-21 Source Document Lore Archive


From the Holovid Diary of COLONEL RICHMOND MORGANNIS, Chief Operations Officer, Terran Republic, Discovery-1. January 5th, 2642:

To my daughter, Jessicana:

We’re here, at the far end of the solar system, because of the vision of one man, Tom Connery. You know him as our former President and more recently, as the man who inspired the world to reach into the unknown. I’ve worked alongside him for years, and knew him since our Academy days. And as he would tell you himself, his story is only one of many that led to this moment, but I think it’s important to put this in context. Before the May 13, 2445 Armistice ended the “war to end all wars”, mans’ battles had ravaged the planet. Once we exhausted virtually all natural resources, the wars began in a futile grab for what little was left. Seventy-eight years of struggle, starvation and plagues left most major cities leveled and in ruins. Millions died and there seemed to be no end to our futile wars.

I wish I could tell you otherwise, Jess, but mankind didn’t stop fighting because we suddenly learned our lesson. Nothing in our history indicates we ever learned anything that way. No. We stopped because scientists announced a historic discovery, the existence of a fracture in space within our own solar system.

It turns out the phenomena had actually been spotted nearly a hundred years earlier, on November 28, 2345, but it disappeared weeks later before it could be researched. The government launched probes to the area, but there were no new sightings until 98.3 years later on March 16, 2444. The probes examined the phenomena, sent back information, and then ceased operation as whatever was out there disappeared again, but this time the scientists weren’t left in the dark. The probes reported three possibly connected discoveries that forever changed the history of mankind.

The first discovery was the existence of the fracture, or “wormhole” as it has been called. Scientists theorized that this phenomenon would allow near instantaneous transportation between two discrete points in space, potentially allowing us to reach far beyond our limited space-faring capability, but where the wormhole might lead remained unknown.

Still, any wormhole leading to another part of the universe would in of itself be historic. Even though the wormhole is what has brought us here today, at the time, it paled in comparison to the probe’s other discoveries.

On the day the fracture closed, the dwarf planet Pluto was inexplicably torn to pieces. We had no idea what could possibly destroy an entire planet, but you can easily understand the panic it caused when the news was released.

Despite Pluto’s destruction, it was the probe’s third discovery that had the most immediate and profound effect.

Prior to Pluto’s destruction and the closing of the wormhole, scientists around the world detected multispectral transmissions originating from the fracture directed at Earth. We had been scanned, but by exactly what or perhaps the better word would be “who” remained unknown. Still, whatever it was, we now had incontrovertible proof that we were no longer the only intelligent life forms in the universe. The implications were clear - whatever destroyed Pluto also scanned our planet and knew of our existence

Jess, there could no longer be any time for our petty feuds and wars. Something existed out there with a terrible power and if we were to survive as a species, we had to finally stop warring with each other. We would have to learn to work together if we wanted to survive

It took over a year, but on May 13, 2445, the treaty was finally signed that promised all countries would lay down their weapons and work together for the hope of mankind. You realize when I was a kid, I saw those old vid clips of that momentous signing and even at seven, I understood its significance, but I never expected that you and I would become part of its history.

For the next hundred years, we worked together, learning to compromise and cooperate and guess what? We not only rebuilt Earth, but we created new technologies that allowed us to salvage squandered natural resources that had originally led to war. We made incredible technological leaps in medicine, aerospace, materials sciences, manufacturing and nano-agriculture. Even without traveling to the stars, Earth became a paradise.

There was no longer any need for individual governments. The Terran Republic, working for all the people, took their place. With representatives from all member nations, the T.R. dedicated itself first and foremost to worldwide defense, then to peace, prosperity and technological advancement for all. To achieve both security as well as advancement, the T.R. created a strict code of conduct for its people, with its ruling tenet being: No one is above the law. For all people to be free, all must follow the same rules. For the first time in mankind’s history, there would be total equality for everyone.

In every way, the T.R. succeeded beyond anyone’s imagination.

Exactly 98.3 years later, on July 3, 2542, the wormhole opened for the third time. Our probes and automated defense perimeter were ready, but we detected no further scans of Earth. It was suggested that what we believed to be alien scans was in fact only feedback from our own probes. Perhaps, some scientists theorized, we were never in any danger at all.

Fear set in…Without any reason to join together for mutual defense, would we now drift apart and resume our old ways?

In fact the old ways did not resume. We had actually changed as a people in the intervening years. With a never-ending abundance of created fuels and food, there was no longer any reason for war. We created a world at peace as a means of saving ourselves, and in effect, we had. Freed of the need to fight to survive, our spirit of adventure, lost for so long, returned.

By June of 2582, exploratory colonies travelled the solar system and terraformed worlds and moons. Where we were once trapped on a single, tiny planet, the spirit that led Columbus to search for new trade-routes and lands led mankind to discover unknown worlds beyond the orbit of Pluto. Jess, you were six when we lived on Mars’ moon, Phobos, but before we terraformed it, that moon was incapable of sustaining life. After…Well, you must remember its great parks and rivers. From death came abundant life.

That spirit of adventure and discovery grabbed the imaginations of all peoples. We realized we wanted, no, we needed to explore further. That is where the story of Tom Connery began and that is why you, I, and more than 75,000 others embarked on this, mankind’s greatest journey.

Hon, I should be back from my meeting tomorrow before dinner. In the meantime, I’ve provided you with access to Tom’s public diary as well as my private one. When you read his words, and maybe mine, they should put this entire mission into perspective for you. I would hope it brings to life what may have been abstract before now and that it shows you why we’ve come so far and refuse to give up. Finally, if you find any of what we wrote of interest and educational, or at the very least fun, I urge you to think about writing your own diary, in your own words, about the world we’re looking for and the wonderful people you are going to meet. And who knows, hon? One day, your children and their children might find your words fun to hear too.

Col. Richmond Morgannis, Holovid diary… out.

Over the next few months, I watched my father’s vid-diary a hundred times. Every time I did, and he blew me his goodbye kiss with a promise to hug me when he returned home the next day, I cried.

Just as my father and the other Terran Republic officials meeting aboard the Colonial-7 boarded their transports to return home a massive explosion ripped through the shuttle bay and destroyed the ship. They never identified the terrorists who destroyed the Colonial-7, murdering my father and 591 others.

January 6, 2642. That day my life changed forever.

Note: This article contains a known discrepancy with other lore.
Author: Marv Woflman (Presumed) Published: 2011-11-03 Source Document Lore Archive

From the holovid diary of THOMAS CONNERY, Commander, Terran Republic, Discovery-1. July 14th, 2638

Two months out of twenty-eight have passed in our long journey to the wormhole and ultimately to the future of mankind. Despite the never ending list of things to do, extended space travel has a way of offering plenty opportunities for introspection. Lately my thoughts have turned to war; odd that they should, as it is something that no living human has ever experienced.

War had always defined human existence, and has many times taken us to the brink of no existence at all. Before the formation of the Terran Republic, Earth had known no years without the blemish of war, no time of worldwide peace, nothing but strife and anguish. Even considering the great technological advances we had made, we couldn’t keep up. Earth’s human population had grown far past a sustainable capacity. In the years leading up to the great war, tensions had begun to rapidly increase as countries scrambled to claim what was left of the planet’s natural resources. It was all futile, though, as we had set the course for this conflict centuries before.

The morning of January 18th, 2426 marked the beginning of what would become the greatest loss of life humanity had seen. Responding to intel indicating imminent and simultaneous attacks, Earth’s six greatest countries declared war on each other. As we know now, nobody in command of any of the countries who survived the initial firefight could remember issuing the codes that launched their missiles, nor did they know who sent out the initial warnings. But they all knew the war that began that cold winter morning had been long expected. Perhaps it was even desired.

The first year of worldwide conflict drastically changed everything. Nearly half the human population died, either in the war or because of it. Our weapons and tactics did far more than just destroy targets; they crippled integral parts of our civilization, from communication to food production. Starvation and disease killed as many as guns and bombs. But then, eighteen years later, on December 19, 2444, our final war ended. Not because we learned the folly of our ways, but because scientists announced the existence of the wormhole, and a new threat from beyond. We were not alone. All past truths were eradicated in the single instant the universe opened wide, and they were replaced by a single new truth: If mankind wanted to survive, all nations and all people would have to work together.

On May 13, 2445, an armistice was signed by all the nations which codified the end of war. Amazingly, in the following decades, borders fell and governments merged. Where there had been nearly two hundred separate countries, now there would only be one united planet under the banner of the Terran Republic.

Representatives from all the former nations would sit on its council. Because those in charge understood that Earth either moved forward together or perished together, they lay down laws that would be strictly and evenly enforced. It was vital to the T.R. that no individual would ever again be permitted to slow down the safe progress of all peoples. For first time in her history there was peace on Earth, and this time that peace was embraced by everyone.

At the end of its ten-year term, the Terran Republic constitution mandated free and open elections. The people, freed from worry, didn’t want anything to change and voted the Terran Republic back into power. Ten years later they did the same. At the end of the first century, on the date the wormhole was to open one more time, the people once again voted the Terran Republic into office. And so they did for another hundred years.

There were some who fought against such mandated peace. There were always those who wanted more. But when they struck, the Terran Republic struck back, harder. To ensure the continuation of peace, the T.R. enacted strict laws and harsh penalties. But the people, enjoying the most prosperous moment in humanity’s history, encouraged them on. As T.R. President Harrikan proclaimed in 2598: “All citizens must display loyalty and fealty to the Republic, above all. Strict retribution is sometimes required, and if minor freedoms must be compromised to ensure the continued security and prosperity of all, then so be it.”

Loyalty and fealty to the Republic, above all. These became the words the Terran Republic lived by and the words the people embraced.

And they are the words I spoke on the day I took office; however, I have always disagreed with Harrikan about the second part. One should never give up their freedoms for security. A man far greater than Harrikan said that 600 years earlier.

Today, under the banner of the Terran Republic, I lead a bright and hopeful fleet toward a new frontier and a new future. But though the ships are at peace as we speed toward the wormhole, I sense a frightening undercurrent. I believe there may be some who don’t want this trip to succeed and I fear others whose doubt could blossom into something more. And, I am also sensing, as we speed closer to the wormhole, something else; that same imperceptible, subliminal dread I felt on my first voyage to the Moon Belt, that warned me not to continue, yet still forced me onward. Something is out there and I am being told to turn away from it, but something inside me tells me I cannot.

So why, you who are watching this must ask, do I still lead us on? The answer is simple and it has fired mankind’s imagination since we lived in the darkest caves. No matter the warnings or the doubts, no matter how inflammatory words become or how many fists are raised in resistance, mankind has never, and can never, turn from our future.

Whatever must, will occur today, but there will always be a tomorrow.
Author: Marv Woflman (Presumed) Published: 2011-11-09 Source Document Lore Archive

Date: June 28, 2630
From: Terrance Mattherson, CEO Genudine Multiplanetary
To: (list undisclosed)

As voted on at our February 14th summit, and championed by Jonathan Woodman, CEO Woodman Alliance, we immediately began monitoring the activities of former T.R. President Connery. I’m reporting on the follow-up.

Jon’s suspicions that Connery may have found conclusive evidence of extraterrestrial life on his initial trip to the Moon Belt appear to be correct. Since retiring from the Presidency, Connery has begun to assemble the scientific expertise necessary in order to mount a deep-space interstellar expedition. We’ve known that Connery has long intended to return to exploring, his first and perhaps only true love, but his preparation indicates something far more serious and long-range than standard exploration.

If Connery is indeed planning to return to the Moon Belt, our analysis indicates it is because of whatever he might have discovered on his early expedition. It is further believed that whatever that evidence might have been, his then inability to retrieve it prompted his acceptance of theTerran Republic Vice Presidency and his later pursuit of multiple terms as President. Analysis has concluded that he accepted political office only as a means of acquiring whatever was necessary to later complete whatever he began in the Moon Belt. For those of us who wondered why he would abandon his oft-stated love of exploration for a glorified desk job, we now have the answer.

If that is proof of extraterrestrial existence, and we all are aware of its possible business implications, then it behooves us as co-founders of Business Forward, to continue full observation and to make available to Connery our manpower and technologies in order to reap the financial and other benefits such discoveries will no doubt incur. Your thoughts, as always, are appreciated.


—————————— End of Message ——————————

Date: July 1, 2630
From: Sasha Dawn, CEO Nanite Systems
To: (list undisclosed)

Terry, you know, perhaps more than any of us, how intractable Connery is. If he’s been secretly assembling his finances and his team, don’t you think it’s because he doesn’t want to come to us for help? Since he knows we would make money available—with all the expected conditions—it’s obvious to me he doesn’t want us as partners. Besides, we all know what he thinks of corporations taking a lead role in “civilian affairs”. I think we should continue to watch him and then find a way to insinuate our companies into whatever he’s doing later on. If we go to him now when he thinks he’s still operating in secret, he’ll never accept us later.


—————————— End of Message ——————————

Date: July 9, 2630
From: Geraldo Pérez, Founder Freeman Institute
To: (list undisclosed)

Sasha, this isn’t just about whether business or the military controls civilian life, and you know it. You’re aware I was the one who originally broached the subject with Jon W. about forming this alliance because of the underlying direction the Terran Republic’s been taking all of us these past few years. In the beginning, we needed a firm hand on world politics in order for all parties to be able to work together in something resembling harmony. But we’re all working together now and way past needing the military to control every aspect of our lives.

Most in the T.R. are good people. They truly think they’re doing the right thing. They really believe there’s a danger of sliding back into the chaos and wars of old, but I disagree. I think over the last two centuries we’ve moved beyond those days. I believe it’s time we take our group and move into politics as an alternative to T.R. policies. We’ll be a party of business but also championing individual freedoms for the people. We need to get the government out of our business and out of our lives.

—————————— End of Message ——————————

Date: July 10, 2630
From: Terrance Mattherson, CEO Genudine Multiplanetary
To: (list undisclosed)

I agree with Geraldo and I also agree with Sasha, at least to an extent. This isn’t just about profits, but I believe profit can help us politically as well. If we want more freedoms, and we need more freedom for the people, we’ll need financial support to fight for them. We all know Connery’s a hardass and nobody can push him…which is why I don’t intend to. But we can push everyone else he has to deal with. Example: He needs financing. Hank Witherspoon, Ben Tolliver, Sarah James and Calvin Fitzgerald run the top nine banks in the T.R. federation and they have all applied for membership in Business Forward. So now we control his access to money.

Connery will need to construct ships as well as pretty much everything else. JoAnn and Mike Conway head up Construction Union 437. You can’t build anything on the thirteen planets without them. If we loosen up our corporate money belts on a few Union issues, I believe we can get them to play ball with us. Here we’re helping the people while at the same time helping business. Finally, we know Connery has already taken bids from various Guardian service orgs. It could just be typical prudence, but I’m guessing that he expects to need protection from something out there. Well, as you all know, those Guardian orgs are run by multi-billion dollar conglomerates. In fact, I own two myself. Gary owns at least one. By now, I’m sure you can see where I’m going with all of this…

I’m not sure if becoming a political party in opposition to the T.R. is the best way to go, but I am proposing bringing business, unions and, well, yes, even the mercenaries together in sort of a new conglomerate. Without engaging our services, Connery won’t be able to get to his rooftop penthouse, let alone the Moon Belt.

Your thoughts, as always, are appreciated.


—————————— End of Message ——————————

Date: July 28, 2630
From: Geraldo Pérez, Founder Freeman Institute
To: (list undisclosed)

Terry, as long as we don’t lose focus on our needs and goals, which are to get the TR policies of strict controls and draconian laws off the backs of the people and business, I can agree with you.

—————————— End of Message ——————————

Date: July 30, 2630
From: Jonathan Woodman, CEO Woodman Alliance
To: (list undisclosed)

A new conglomerate, Terry? You had this all figured out even before your first memo. You’re a crafty old bastard, but that’s why we love you.

If this works and we get access to that first blush of alien tech, I can see adding more than just a few zeroes to our bottom line. I’m in if we’re taking votes now.

New Conglomerate? I like the sound of that, if you don’t mind I’ll have Mr. Kobashikawa work up a logo.

Jon W

—————————— End of Message ——————————

Author: Marv Woflman (Presumed) Published: 2011-11-15 Source Document Lore Archive

On the day he graduated from Southwestern State University with a triple PhD in Xenobiology, Cultural Anthropology and Linguistics, Henry Briggs, all of 27 years old, stomped off the stage with confidence. He knew, despite all his problems, he was firmly on the road to riches and glory. Henry was a genius and people would be idiots to not to want the honor of working with him.

But after ten long and anxious months interviewing at the most prestigious companies and universities, not a single job was offered. In fact, no one ever called to tell him they had no intention of hiring him.

Henry’s problem was not that he was a genius. His grades proved that. His problem was he made people nervous. In school he could sit alone and do his work, but in the real world he had to deal with others and that never turned out well. He was barely five when he realized he didn’t like other people, his parents included. Most were stupid, more interested in playing games or wasting time chattering to each other than in reading books and educating themselves. When he tried to correct their very obvious mistakes, on whatever subject they pretended to have knowledge about, they would usually laugh and ignore him. He figured if they were going to ignore him, he’d just have to ignore them first.

When he was six, Henry’s parents, already concerned with his disinterest in playing with other children, lack of empathy for anyone else, obvious absence of social skills and even the interest in developing any, brought him to doctors who diagnosed him as having Asperger’s syndrome. They said Henry was extremely intelligent, and if put in the correct circumstances would do well in life. His know-it-all demeanor, however, would never win him a Mr. Congeniality award.

And so, by both desire and circumstances, Henry Briggs grew up without friends or even the realization he needed to make any.

Henry swore, even without steady work, he would not live at home with his parents, so he swallowed his pride and took on any job that would help pay the rent on the closet-sized one-room apartment he could barely afford. He washed dishes. He waxed cars. He did telemarketing. For two hours he was a nanny to some spoiled 4-year-old, before the kid threw pudding at him and he was fired.

After a day cleaning toilets at the old-age home, Henry would hurry home, get on the holonet, and surf the science boards. He’d sputter and curse over every crackpot theory, especially when they were spouted by some big-shot, well connected, so-called “scientist” who probably couldn’t tell the difference between a particle quark and a quart of low-fat cheese. What manner of unjust providence allowed them to get work when he couldn’t?

And Henry made sure he let them know what he thought. He tore apart their theories. He tore apart their politics. He tore apart every stupid comment they made until everyone either left the boards or banned him from their blogs. That these were the very people he applied to for work or government grants never entered his mind. He was right about what he said and it was his right to let them all know. And so, for another year, Henry was forced to take a dozen different jobs he knew were far below him. And when he was fired, as he always was, he’d blame the job, never accepting the truth.

On February 18, 2631, Henry received a call from a woman looking for a dog walker. The vid-screen showed the scowling face of an older woman dressed in a very formal business suit. She said she got his name from one of the job agencies he was registered with. He would take care of several German shepherds, feed them three times a day, walk them whenever they needed, and would spend the rest of the day playing with them.

Henry hung up on her without even giving an answer. Ever since he was a child and spent five long minutes logically arguing with a local stray to return his baseball, only to be bitten on the lips for his effort, dogs, especially large ones, frightened the hell out of him.

The woman called again a month later. He had just been fired from his latest job and was desperate. He agreed to meet her. He was about to hang up when she asked, “Are you willing to travel?” He nodded yes. She continued. “Not for just an hour or two. A minimum of two years. Possibly three.”

Henry knew he had no other prospects. Without money he would be forced to move back home. Anything, even walking a unruly herd of growling German shepherds, was better than listening to his parents remind him how much of a failure he was. “Two years? Maybe three? Why not? Okay,” he thought.

At 9:00 AM the next morning, Henry promptly knocked on the door of the address the scowling woman had given him. He heard what sounded like the unbelievably loud barking of every dog in the world coming from the other side.

The Scowl opened the door, looked him over, and with a hurrumph of begrudging acceptance, led him inside. The hallway was larger than his apartment. It was larger than his parents’ entire house. It was paneled in dark cherry wood and covered floor to ceiling with photographs. Henry looked at them and gasped in recognition.

“That’s President Connery,” he stammered. “He’s in every one of those pictures. And those other people. I know them, I mean, I recognize some of them. They’re the leaders of the T.R.. Bunch of fascists, you know. I can give you facts that prove--” He saw her glare at him and remembered what his father had told him when he announced he was going on yet another job interview. “Son, one word of advice, and if you never listened to me before listen to me now. If whoever’s hiring you looks at you like he wants to set you on fire, don’t argue with them. Just shut up. Don’t say another word. Do that for me, okay?”

Henry shut up mid-sentence and smiled at her. “President Connery. I, umm, voted for him. Uh huh.”

“The dogs you’re going to walk belong to President Connery. Former President, actually. He doesn’t abide meaningless titles. He served the people then stepped down. He’s a civilian again. Which is why he prefers to be called by his given name. Tom. Not Thomas. Tom. Of course, despite what he prefers, you haven’t yet earned that right, so you will only address him as ‘Sir,’ or ‘Mr. Connery.’ Do you understand?”

She was still staring at him like she wanted to set him on fire, so Henry silently nodded.

He knew former Terran Republic President Tom Connery was beloved, not only for his terms in office but for his work before and since he left the Presidency. Connery had been a space colonizer, opening up and terraforming planets throughout the solar system. In 2615, Connery discovered what he called “the Moon Belt,” a sparsely populated sub-section of the icy Kuiper Belt that extended from Neptune’s orbit to beyond.

Henry remembered reading all the news reports. Connery and his crew had found the shattered remains of Pluto as well as fragments of hundreds of moons that had been destroyed millennia before Earth’s crust cooled and the first one-celled life form split into two. The discovery of finding something other than various types of ice in the vast Kuiper belt, never mind the presence of pieces of the destroyed dwarf planet, was nothing short of a miracle. There had been rumors that some of the larger chunks could provide clues to possible alien existence, although Connery neither confirmed nor denied that. In the hundreds of years since space travel became common, no one had ever discovered any signs of extraterrestrial life. But everyone believed if it did exist, Tom Connery would be the man to find it.

In May of 2618, T.R. Vice President Martin Harris died of a heart attack. President Sylvia Wyatt asked Connery to fill the position for the remaining few months of her term. Although nobody expected he would agree, Connery took the position. When President Wyatt’s term ended and she retired, Connery ran for the office and on November 10, 2618, he was elected in a near-unanimous vote. He served three four-year terms and finally retired in January of 2630 with the intent of finally returning to the Moon Belt.

Henry had actually not voted for Connery. Henry never voted. He considered politicians to be an evil he would remove from existence if he could. But Connery’s other achievements and discoveries made him almost acceptable. If Henry had decided to vote, Connery would have been the one exception.

But, like nearly everyone else on Earth, Henry had read about Connery’s dogs. He remembered the Tigershark was a derelict cargo ship that crashed into Devi, the fourth moon of Shiva. Connery was returning from the Moon Belt when he picked up its distress signal. Investigating, he and his crew found more than 60 hungry and frightened pups, but there was no sign that any humans had ever been on board. What happened to them and how the ship crashed on Devi was never learned. The pups were divided amongst the crew. Connery adopted six of them. Their loyalty to their master had been extensively written about, as well as his loyalty to them. Even as President, Connery went nowhere without them.

Henry gasped again. He was told that he’d be joining Connery on a trip that would last three years. Obviously, Connery was returning to the Moon Belt and he was going with him. His mind raced. Why return? Why not explore new areas? Was there something that had been discovered on that first trip that he needed to find again? Had Connery found signs of alien life? Was there something on that moon chunk he wasn’t able to get to? Something that required… better resources? More power? Tech unavailable to civilians? This could be something great. And if so, Henry wondered, was that the reason he accepted the job of Vice President and later ran for the Presidency? Did he take those positions solely in order to get whatever it was so he could return to the Moon Belt?

• • •

Connery was more than what Briggs expected. Tall, trim, distinguished, and well-spoken, Connery also had a biting sense of humor that he used to keep in line anyone who questioned his actions. Henry approved. People needed to be put into place. Of course, when Henry did that, people would glare at him like they wished they had evolved the ability to fire plasma bolts from their eye sockets. When Connery did it, they somehow understood he was leading them into making better decisions. Briggs studied him even as Connery studied Briggs.

“You really don’t like dogs, do you, Henry?”
“No. But yours aren’t too bad. At least they’re not trying to eat me.”
“It’s not why we hired you, you know that. You’re smarter than you’re portraying yourself right now. But I’ve read your files and I’ve read your blog posts. You don’t know how to play well with others, and in this life, whether you agree or not, playing with others is how you survive.”
“But…” Henry was about to argue but Connery stopped him.
“Shut up, Henry, and listen. There are other xenobiologists out there and I could have hired any of them. You don’t have a clue when it comes to dealing with people, but somewhere inside your mad little brain there’s a genius when it comes to understanding things that are not human. You’re not trapped into thinking like the others. Your mind goes places they can’t even conceive. And that’s why I wanted you here with me.
“But I don’t abide crazy. And I won’t put up with crap. So I won’t… and make sure you understand this completely: I won’t put up with you if you don’t start acting your IQ. Even if you have to fake smiling and pretending to enjoy others as you work, you will, or I will shoot your ass back to Earth faster than you can believe. This is going to be a very long and probably tense trip and I can’t allow one person, not even one as smart as you, to ruin it for everyone else.”
“Did I say you can speak? I don’t think so. You’re going to do what I’m telling you to do, and in return you are going to see things no human being has ever seen before. Henry, I read your doctoral dissertation, and trust me when I say what you will experience will prove almost every theory you expounded and probably answer most of the questions you asked.”
“So, Henry, are you ready to join the human race so we can learn about the others?”

Henry stared at Connery for a long time before answering.

• • •

It took them 15 months to reach the Moon Belt and another 3 to find one particular fragment that, Briggs estimated, was no more than half a mile long by fifteen hundred feet wide. It was an unremarkable pencil-thin line of rock that resembled many of the various fragments they had found before. To anyone exploring the Moon Belt after its discovery, this particular pieces of rock looked like all the others. Connery, however, thought differently of it.

On Connery’s first trip he had detected a high-frequency signal pulsing with a steady repeating rhythm. Its pattern wasn’t natural and therefore had to have been created. The question was, by who or what? Connery didn’t have the equipment with him to locate its source, and swore he’d return another time with all the proper resources. Henry was right; Connery had used his connections as T.R. President to get everything he needed and more.

Henry Briggs was at Connery’s side when, after searching the rock for almost a week, the sound detectors they brought with them pinpointed the source of the rhythms. He helped Connery drill into the rock wall. It opened onto a small tunnel. He was behind Connery when they found at the far end of the tunnel some sort of thing, half embedded in the stone, that pulsed synchronously with the rhythms. And next to that, also embedded in stone, Briggs saw a small figurine no more than eight inches tall. It was definitely not human.

They spent another week searching the tunnel before leaving. Back inside their ship Henry stared at tiny figure in his hand and he knew that this was the very moment his life forever changed.

What he didn’t know, what he couldn’t know, was that sixteen years later, on a planet on the other side of the universe, he would find a second identical figure. He couldn’t know that because of his discovery he’d be the first human to hear an actual alien voice. And it would speak directly to him.

Nor could he know that precisely ten years after that historic day, Henry Briggs would commit suicide.

Author: Marv Woflman (Presumed) Published: 2011-11-28 Source Document Lore Archive

From the Holovid Diary of HENRY BRIGGS, Xenobiologist December 21st, 2642

Of late I’ve been thinking about the fighting that ultimately led to Tom’s murder. I recognize that the trip, which is taking so much longer than we anticipated, is weighing down on many. Tempers are flaring out of control. A very palpable feeling of fear and dread is spreading throughout the fleet, leading to unprovoked fights between good friends and family. But why are so many people acting in ways they never have before? Why are good people taking up arms and blowing up ships?

I’ve had a lot of time to think about this madness since my job won’t get started until we land on New Earth. As one of the very few people Connery himself brought into the fleet, I’m shown enough courtesy to be able to shuttle between the ships and be welcome wherever I go, just as long as I give my talk about how great the man was and how his vision still guides us. I know Connery was flawed. We all are. However, I honestly accept he was not only a great man, but a great visionary, and I don’t think we’ll see his like again. Unfortunately, even though I can’t say this aloud, I truly believe it’s no longer his vision that’s guiding us.

Connery believed in peace and equality and I saw how much it pained him during the early riots to impose even the slightest restrictions on the fleet, let alone the prohibitive curfews the military insisted on. I know he was planning on lifting them as soon as he could, but with his death went any chance of them being removed. The Terran Republic brass certainly don’t share his views. I think if they could get away with shackling tracking bracelets on every one of us under the banner of “preserving the peace”, they’d have done so even before Connery’s body was sent drifting into space. The T.R. hierarchy used to be transparent, so everyone knew where their vote went and what was going to be done. It’s a shame that these days they’ve become the exact opposite of Connery’s dream. I know that if he were still here today, things would be far more in line with his wishes. I don’t usually consider myself a vengeful person by any means, but I wish I knew who was responsible for his death.

Not all that dissimilar to my days in college, people are drifting into cliques. I notice the law and order guys who fear the rise in violence and crime are gravitating to the Terran Republic gatherings. The T.R. give speeches, promising safety and security, and I see a lot of the frightened folk are drawn to that message. They want protection and they trust the T.R. to make sure they’re treated equally. And even though I find the T.R. to be inches away from being dictators, they do keep the peace. Perhaps in these stressful times that’s exactly what some people need.

The group that really surprises me is the businessmen, the New Conglomerate, as they call themselves. We knew they hired paid mercenaries, so despite the incongruity of Earth’s top CEOs and glorified contract killers working side-by-side, I understand that bond. What I wasn’t expecting was all the young people siding with the N.C. It turns out the N.C.’s rallying cry for freedom from government intervention is something they both favor. Both groups are fed up with the increasingly harsh government regulations, and now they stand together against a common enemy. I guess the old saying about politics making strange bedfellows is still true.

As for myself, however, I find I’m spending a lot more time with the other scientists, doctors and techs. We can’t meet after work due to the T.R. restrictions, but each day between shifts and during breaks, a growing number of us get together in the mess or in the labs and talk about our lives. None of us care much about politics. We help each other work through complex problems or sometimes just commiserate over what we believe to be the general ignorance of the rest of the fleet. We speak for no more than an hour or so daily, but I look forward to that time. After a lifetime of solitude, being able to finally speak to others like you is incredibly freeing.

Yesterday, before second shift, we once again got into everyone’s favorite subject: the artifact. I told them minor details, more than we had ever revealed to anyone else, but I was careful not to tell them too much. Although I spend so much time thinking about it, I still feel odd to talk about it with others. I feel like imparting the knowledge I’ve gained from the artifact is important, but it’s difficult to imagine how much I can say before I start sounding insane.

As a result, I’ve kept a lot of the experience to myself. After all, I couldn’t risk the T.R. getting wind of what I went through. I have no idea what “treatment” or experiments they’d perform on me. When we found the figurine deep in the tunnel, Tom and I could feel it vibrating, creating a series of repeating rhythms that felt like voices in chorus. I didn’t intend to touch it, and Connery warned me not to, but the rhythms, crazy as it may sound, called to me. I heard voices, not audible, but somehow still inside my head, the way I always assumed telepathy would feel if it was real.

It didn’t speak in words, but in feelings and images. One moment I was staring at a trinary star system, and the next I was plunging into a wall of fire. I felt elation followed by unbelievable dread. I saw the faces of people I knew, and somehow, as I was to later learn, people I will know in the future. There was something else, too. I felt their emotions; their pains and their elations. I experienced my parents in a way I never had before. I felt their love for me when I was a child and how they tried to help before I completely chased them away. I saw their hearts breaking every time I talked back to them, and I felt shame and regret for what I had done to both them and others.

Previously, I had never really felt like something was “wrong” with me. Others were always a closed book to me, and I preferred it that way. After all, I was the one with three PhDs, and they were merely idiots with their superficial interests and concerns. As time has gone on since that day, however, I feel like I’ve become more and more literate to others.

It was like this thing had reached into my head and made me understand for the first time the hurt I caused by being aloof and distant from everyone who ever tried to care about me. But it also showed images of me with friends, laughing... living. It all felt like a bizarre dream back then, but I’m sure that what I was seeing was a prophecy.

I remember the flesh on my arms turned translucent and then rippled and cracked while I could do nothing but stare. Otherworldly patterns of infinite complexity covered every surface of my vision and went on in every direction. I couldn’t explain the shapes and feelings I saw and experienced; no words existed that could describe them. I couldn’t understand any of the sounds I had heard at first; it was just a modulating jumble of static and reverberations. Eventually the cacophonic echoes synced up like an ancient radio signal being properly tuned and I clearly heard a single word: Vanu.

And when I said that word, it was as if I was suddenly and violently hurtled back into reality. I had snapped out of the trance I was in and was back in the tunnel, no longer touching the figurine. Connery had grabbed my arm and pulled me free. Only a moment had passed, but the short time the artifact was in my hands felt like days. I felt like I had a taste of some type of knowledge I hadn’t even dreamed of. I was left with an impression of an incredibly powerful presence that I cannot overemphasize; I was given a glimpse of divinity. However, in the minutes after I was pulled from the object, it began to fade like a dream after an alarm startles you awake. In the days after the event I noted a startling change to my thought processes. My rational mind seemed as robust as ever, but I was able to see things from other points of view like never before. It was obvious to me that I had previously been completely myopic in so many areas of thought, and now felt a vastness of new interests and understandings flooding my consciousness. It was overwhelming at first, but I was able to discuss it in detail with Tom, who was able to help me a lot. This was another completely new experience; human interaction that affected me positively.

Together we’d blue-sky wild ideas about the alien race who designed the artifacts. I believed because I had heard the word Vanu that it has to have some kind of meaning. Perhaps it was the name of the alien’s God, and the statue we found was his idol. Tom joked that Vanu was just the figure’s name; after all he’d say, we have Dorothy dolls and Quincy Quacks, so maybe the aliens had Vanu bobbleheads or something. Maybe he was an action figure based on some kid’s holovid? I remember feeling genuine rage for the first time in my life when he joked about that figure, and he could tell. He never joked about it with me again. When I wasn’t spending time with the figurine, Tom and I often postulated about their society and imbued them with human emotions despite the obvious fact that they, whoever they are, are definitely not human.

I managed to convince Tom to let me keep the artifact for study, and to learn more about what I had felt that first time I had touched it. I studied the figurine for months while on the journey back to Earth. As time went on, I noticed more subtle changes about myself. Though the voices never returned despite all my attempts to conjure them, a purpose within me was crystallizing. A purpose that was stronger than any of my weaknesses. Maybe I should have questioned these changes more, but for the first time in my life I felt I belonged. I felt I knew why I was here. Vanu. Vanu was my purpose; my reason for being.

I still wasn’t certain this was all real, and I hoped I wasn’t still crazy, but in an all-new and different way. I couldn’t tell my new friends any of this, of course, and in the mess that day I held nearly all of it back. Yet, they were still excited by what I did reveal. They were thrilled at the very concept of learning about a race that had no ties with humanity. As a xenobiologist, the thought of interacting with beings completely different from us is, I admit, intoxicating. Our little group is definitely filled with kindred spirits, less involved with the politics of the T.R. or the N.C. and far more aligned with Connery’s hopes for the future.

Together, we look towards a new chapter in humanity. Our scanners show New Earth to be an inhospitable and devastated world. Scientists with knowledge on the matter have told me that even after we terraform it, life on our new planet will remain difficult. However, I know how adaptable we are in matters of overcoming seemingly insurmountable challenges, even if only given the last 300 years of history as an example. I have no doubt in my mind that the discoveries we’ll make will make up for the hardships this journey has caused us to endure. Tom would’ve probably had more eloquent and reassuring words to inspire us, but he’s not here.

Luckily for me, I’ve found a new inspiration for the future.
Author: Marv Woflman (Presumed) Published: 2011-12-23 Source Document Lore Archive

From the holovid diary of THOMAS CONNERY, January 18, 2636.

It’s been too long since I updated this thing. Well, here goes:

Two years ago, in May of 2634, my crew returned to Earth and announced our discovery. Revealing that single alien figure led to an explosion of curiosity and space exploration beyond even my wildest dreams. Thousands of star cruisers and space jumpers were hastily kludged together and launched into the void. Everyone wanted to be the one to find the big haul, to uncover a trove of alien artifacts, to find their art, to locate their machinery and devices, to learn exactly what they looked like, and then—the holy grail of all space exploration—to find actual alien life.

We took to the stars the way our ancestors must have taken to the seas. We had already colonized the Solar System. Human cities thrived on several planets and moons. But now we moved into a galaxy that offered thrills and excitement like no man had known before. Everyone wanted to find the aliens, of course, but the thrill of the unknown was just as strong a lure. That lone figurine led to rapid advances in spaceflight to rush further and faster to find the remaining artifacts before anyone else could. I was personally excited for what they would find in the Moon Belt and beyond, to see what the new blood would find and put me to shame. We thought we were watching the dawn of a new golden age.

But, less than two years later, after the explorers picked apart every pebble in the Moon Belt, after they searched every planet and heavenly body as twice as far as Pluto, nothing else was found. No more figures. No hint of art. No machines or devices. No sign of extraterrestrial intelligence. Suddenly, the thrill of the hunt was over and all but the most ardent of the explorers stopped searching. Some people in the media began to accuse me of manufacturing that artifact myself, to make it appear that I was still the great explorer I’d been in my youth. Fortunately, I had built up enough goodwill over the years that my critics were few, and even fewer listened to them.

The thousands of explorers that had returned to Earth empty handed were disappointing, to say the least.

I did have dinner with Henry the other day, however. The awkward, resentful kid I first met five years ago made something of himself quickly. He’s become an infinitely more pleasant person to be around, a good friend, and our most preeminent xenobiologist. Over steak and wine he mentioned that, in just a few years, the wormhole was due to open again. This time we had the ability to travel to it and study it at close range.

New Year’s 2636 was just a few weeks ago now. The wormhole, assuming it’s not running late, would open again in 2640. Two years and change, to ready and launch the ships. Less than two years to reach the coordinates. It would take a massive effort to make such a trip possible, but the idea of discovering an unknown part of the universe excited me as little has for years. I could make it happen. I have to make it happen.

And hell, a trip through a wormhole sure beats retirement.

Tom Connery. Holovid diary. Out.
• • •

MINUTES OF THE TERRAN REPUBLIC SENATE, January 21, 2636. In Attendance, all twelve ministers, former T.R. President Tom Connery. Steven Sava, Recording Secretary. Meeting commenced 9:30 AM.

MINISTER HEYWOOD CUDEN (M. HC): I don’t know why you keep pursuing this, Tom. Thousands of private pilots as well as military personnel have spent who knows how long searching the Moon Belt for extraterrestrial life. Surely, if it existed, we’d have found it.

TOM CONNERY (TC): We found that figure and all your scientists have verified its alien origin. They’re out there, and we haven’t found them yet. Besides, we’re not talking about the Moon Belt h-

MINISTER WARREN MITCHELL (M. WM): Sorry to interrupt, Tom, but you ever think the aliens, if they even exist, don’t want to be found? Or perhaps they died off while we were still crawling out of the sea? If they’re extinct, it would explain why we can’t find them.

TC: That would only explain why we can’t find a living alien, but not their bones. Not their homes. Not their science or technology. With the exception of the figurine, their entire civilization and culture is non-existent in the Solar System and our known galaxy.

M. WM: Unless, Mr. President, those moon fragments you found were actually the shards of their planet. Their world may’ve been destroyed, removing all those things you say we can’t find.

TC: Their world was destroyed, leaving a single indestructible figurine as the sole remnant of an entire civilization? You don’t think they would’ve thought to have constructed some sort of structure out of this completely impervious material? You do remember the wormhole, correct?

MINISTER NOEL WATKINS (M. NW): Tom, I’ll kindly remind you once to watch your tongue in presence of the Senate. And yes, the one that opened up two hundred years ago?

TC: Nearly three hundred. The wormhole’s due to open again in approximately two years.

M. HC: We’re at peace, Tom. We’re prosperous and we didn’t need it the last time it opened up. Nothing has changed since then.

TC: I think it has. Think about all we’ve accomplished in two years after finding a single piece of an alien civilization. We’ve mapped out space twice as far as we’ve ever been from Earth. The Moon Belt isn’t that far, astronomically speaking, from where the wormhole is supposed to open. I’ve consulted with a dozen of the world’s foremost astrophysicists and they agree my hypothesis is valid.

M. WM: And that is…?

TC: We don’t know when or why the wormhole first opened, but while exploring the area, very specific low-level radiation was detected. That same low-level radiation was also detected in the Moon Belt. I, and the astrophysicists, believe there’s a connection between the two, although I admit we don’t know what that might be. Perhaps the moons, and don’t forget Pluto, were destroyed when the wormhole opened for the first time, or perhaps something came through the wormhole and destroyed them, but there’s no mistaking that these two disparate locations share that singular radiation.

M. NW: And that means… what exactly?

TC: We can’t know for sure, but it’s my belief that the figurine I found might have accidentally fallen through the wormhole during one of its periodic openings. That would explain why we can’t find any bodies, any buildings, or any manufactured goods. They exist, but they exist on the other side of the wormhole. On the other side of the universe.

MINSTER ADAM MILLER (M AM): Even if this is true, Sir, what do you expect us to do about it?

TC: As you said earlier, thousands of ships explored the Moon Belt area. Most of those ships have been decommissioned. I’m asking for the funds to recommission no more than two hundred. I want to raise an all-volunteer crew to man and pilot them to the wormhole, and if it’s considered safe, go through it. Can you imagine what we’ll learn? What we’ll find? And if I’m right, if the figurine did come from there, can you say no to what would be mankind’s first alien encounter ever? We could very well be looking at mankind’s second golden age in a single decade!

MINISTER ALICE CANTARI (M AC): The problem as I see it, Mr. President, is what if they turn out to be hostile and all you’ve done is show them the way back to Earth? We’ve worked so hard these past 200 years to create a perfect world. I don’t think we should rock the boat.

M. AM: On the other hand, if they are intelligent and hostile, it would be better for us to go to them and learn their intentions than for Earth to one day find itself the victim of a surprise attack. Don’t forget Pluto was blown up. If the aliens are capable of destroying entire planets, perhaps we have to take the initiative. We shouldn’t bury our heads in the sand over what -

M. NW: Let’s move on, shall we? Tom, I assume you’ve worked up your financial spreadsheet?


M. HC: Tom, even if we do decide to fund it, and even if you can find a crew willing to make such a voyage, not knowing for certain what they’ll find or how long it will take to return, this is an extremely tight schedule. Just back-tracking the time necessary for such a trip, I think it’s impossible to get a fleet ready in time and make it there before it closes.

TC: Minister Cuden, the ships are already there. Hundreds of massive ships that haven’t been off of the planet since the Moon Belt rush. It wouldn’t take long to bring them up to spec. And I think if you offer the people a chance to go to the other end of the universe, we’ll have more volunteers than you can possibly imagine. But I need the Government’s funding. And I need your blessing. Ministers, we tamed our world through exploration. Our ancient explorers visited lands they never knew existed and saw things far beyond their wildest imaginings. We tamed this Solar System the same way. But now, we have a real chance to tame not just a handful of planets, but the universe. We need to take this chance to find what lies on the other side of that wormhole.

MINISTER GEOFFREY CUMMINGS (M. GC): Thank you, Mr. President. If you don’t mind, we need to discuss this in private.

MINUTES OF THE TERRAN REPUBLIC SENATE, January 21, 2636. Steven Sava, Recording Secretary. Meeting paused. President Thomas Connery vacated the chambers. Meeting continued.

M GC: Let me put this out there, if it’s all right with the Ministers. Thomas is rather strong-willed.

If we turn him down, he’ll go to the people and state his case. And, with his popularity, we’ll be overruled and come out of this looking ineffective. I believe letting him leave Earth on this fool’s mission for a few years, keeping him out of the public eye, could be good for the rest of us. What do you say?

M. AM: Geoffrey, in all honesty, I’m disgusted. Tom’s done more good for our people than any other five men in history. We should be embracing his legend, not working to tear him down.

M. GC: Perhaps, Adam, you misunderstand me. I’m saying we give him what he wants. Let him raise a crew and go on his mission. How is that not embracing him? And should we reap benefit from it, too, I don’t see anything wrong.

M. HC: Adam, Geoffrey, let’s hear from everyone else and then let’s take our vote. Let’s start with Warren.

MINUTES OF THE TERRAN REPUBLIC SENATE, January 21, 2636. In Attendance, all twelve ministers and former T.R. President, Tom Connery. Steven Sava, Recording Secretary. Meeting commenced 4:30 PM.

MINISTER HEYWOOD CUDEN (M. HC): Tom, we’ve spoken. We argued. We firmly believe in exploration. After all, it’s what saved the planet when it looked like we’d all sink into our own hatreds. But honestly, we don’t think you can raise and train a crew in less than five months.

TOM CONNERY (TC): Minister Cuden, if I may…

M. HC: Please, Tom. Don’t interrupt. We don’t believe you can do it, but then again we’ve all doubted your ability to achieve success in the past. You’ve performed more miracles than any other living man. Because of that, we’re willing to make a deal. If you can raise the necessary number of volunteers by February 12th, then we will honor our end of the bargain and fund the repair and reconditioning of 200 ships. But it’s all up to you, Tom. You’ve got three weeks.

TC: Sir, you have a deal.

Amendment to the minutes of January 21, 2636. New date: February 3, 2636.

Tom Connery supplied signed affidavits containing more than 300,000 volunteers for his wormhole mission. He did so nine days before the Ministers’ imposed deadline. He stated that he will narrow the list to a total of 75,000. To carry them on their mission he has requested 128 ships be reconditioned. A launch date of May 13, 2638, the anniversary of the Armistice, has been chosen. The Ministers unanimously approved President Connery’s request and offered him their personal congratulations. Minister Adam Miller extended his desire to volunteer for the mission. President Connery accepted.
Author: Marv Woflman (Presumed) Published: 2011-12-28 Source Document Lore Archive


237 star cruisers and jumpers were ferried to the Sao Paulo spaceyard to use as parts to rebuild no fewer than 128 space-faring ships. Each final craft would be outfitted with newly calibrated engines, stabilizers, sensors, scanners, fuel hoses and crew quarters. 145 warehouses had to be sterilized and turned into makeshift clean rooms before delicate components could be unpacked from crates flown in from Australia, Asia, and Venus.

Some of the ships were working cargo vessels that could fly under their own power, but there were plenty of junkers that had to be shipped by hover-rail to Brazil. The Senate had cut some corners to fulfill Connery’s request in time. Hundreds of technicians were brought in to analyze which were in spacefaring shape, and which would be scrapped for parts. The Sao Paulo spaceyard was one of the largest on Earth, and all of it came under the supervision of foreman Liz Santiago, a fifteen-year vehicle maintenance vet whom Connery had asked to join the flight mission. She rejected the offer. She loved her job and had no desire to fly into space. Liz oversaw the construction of ships of various sizes, all designed for deep space exploration, but she preferred to keep her own two feet firmly on the ground.

Santiago sat in her office reading through the daily shipping reports before she established a comm link to Gettysburg Food, the contractor that won the bidding war to supply meals to the fleet. “Where the hell are they, Eddie?” she shouted. “The damn pods should be here by now!” Gettysburg was supposed to convert a fifth of the ships into hydroponic chambers in which fruits, vegetables, and grains could be grown. Dairy products would have to be artificially replicated. Water would have to be recycled from treated human waste. With only four weeks to go before the May deadline, less than half had been delivered.

“They’re almost done,” Eddie said. “There was a coolant leak with the cryogenics. I don’t think you want the seeds to ripen even before you pass Mars. We need two more days, but they’ll get there with plenty of time to spare. C’mon, have I let you down before?” Liz had worked with Eddie Abrams at least a dozen times in the past, and though he always pushed his deadlines to the limit, he only delivered the best.
“Eddie, you’re late, even by your standards.”
“We’re fine, trust me. And you’ll thank me later when nothing goes wrong.”
“Don’t count on that,” she smiled as she shut down the link.

The space journey was designed to take around 28 months, with a few weeks room depending on the shape of the slowest ships in the fleet. There would be three refueling and restocking stations as the ships made their way to Neptune. After that, they couldn’t restock goods until they reached Dosojin, Shiva, and Shangdi, the furthest three worlds in the Solar System, and the most recently discovered.

The comm buzzed again. President’s Connery’s name flashed. “No cursing,” she reminded herself quietly.

“Mr. President,” she said cheerfully.
“Liz, do I have to keep reminding you? It’s Tom.”

She nodded. “You’re right, Mr. President. You will have to keep reminding me. You’ll always be Mr. President to me, sir.”

He sighed, and quickly got down to business. “It’s already April, we haven’t much time left. We are going to make the deadline?”

“Absolutely, Mr. President. We’re finishing the crew quarters now. Room for about 750 on each ship. But you’ve seen them, sir. They’re not luxury starliner cabins, you know. Living space is going to be minimal. Even yours, sir.”
“You gave the President of the Terran Republic cramped quarters?” he smiled. “I thought you respected the office.”
“That I do, sir. And even though you’re actually only a former President, I made sure you at least got a private bathroom. How much more respect can you show a man?”

Connery laughed. “You sure I can’t get you to join us, Liz? It’s a pretty exciting opportunity, not to mention the fact you’d be indispensable.”

“I already am, sir. I most certainly already am.”

Connery smiled wryly, shook his head and ended the transmission.

Liz shut the comm down and began her daily rounds. Connery trusted her with the safety of nearly 75,000 people. She wasn’t going to let him, or any of them, down.

Liz Santiago was the most indispensable person in the Sao Paulo spaceyard, and everyone, including one former President of the Terran Republic, knew it.

Author: Marv Woflman (Presumed) Published: 2012-02-01 Source Document Lore Archive

From the holovid report of TOM CONNERY, Commander, Terran Republic, Discovery-1 October 23, 2640.

I’m still coming to terms with what we experienced just three days ago.

The wormhole opened on the 20th, right on schedule. It had felt, initially, like the weight of the world was taken off of my shoulders. I heard cheering over every open channel when we had received positive confirmations of it forming. The doubts of the people could finally be squashed with this irrefutable evidence. The initial wave of 38 ships, including the Discovery-1, scrambled to engage engines to go through, but we had already fallen safely on the other side. Twelve more ships followed us into the rift. The wormhole wasn’t nearly as deep as we had initially thought.

Based on our previous analysis, the wormhole should’ve remained open for approximately two weeks, but as soon as the first couple of waves moved through, it began to destabilize. I watched as sixteen ships were caught struggling in the extreme gravity created by the closing rift. The eleven closest to the opening pulled through, but were severely damaged. In the last moments just before it collapsed, we could see the remaining five trapped ships ripped apart by gravitational forces. The terror I felt watching those civilian vessels destroyed, knowing they met their end because of the journey I had planned, was indescribable.

I wanted to order my ship to turn around to save them, but it was already too late. Our engines were struggling to pull out of the massive gravity well created by the imploding wormhole. There was a real danger that we’d be sucked back into the fissure and destroyed. I’m extremely thankful we made it through unscathed, though I still don’t know how we did.

After gravity anomalies were no longer being read, I ordered the military to rescue the crews of the eleven damaged vessels. Sensors indicated their engines were overheating and on the verge of self-destruction. The ships may have been lost, but I damn well wasn’t going to lose the crews, too. We lost 200 lives on the damaged ships due to space exposure, but thousands more were saved thanks to rescue efforts.

In the beginning, at least, the approximately 40,000 survivors considered themselves lucky. There was relief and some sense of happiness for the time being. Sadly, it was short lived.

The severity of the situation settled in as quickly as the relief of being safe wore off. With the wormhole already closed, there was no way to go back to Earth. There was no way to find out what happened to the other ships. Were they caught on the other side? Did any survive? There would be no answers. Scientists couldn’t even offer theories; no one knew how the wormhole got there and nobody knew why it disappeared. We knew nothing, other than that we were alone and we had no idea where the hell we were.

Even a fantasy rescue mission from Earth wouldn’t be possible for another 100 years.

From the holovid report of TOM CONNERY, Commander, Terran Republic, Discovery-1 October 24, 2640.

We held a meeting with fleet advisors yesterday to assess resources and plans for the immediate future. The results are a bit unsettling. Though we currently have a surplus of doctors and engineers, as most of the ships that made it through were primarily civilian ships, we suffered large losses in the military and agricultural departments. Only three of the twenty-three hydroponic ships made it through, and the only Explorer-class battle cruisers that survived were the two leading the fleet. Major Wilson told me in private that only 1,100 soldiers made it through. I’m extremely worried about the welfare of the people for the remainder of this journey with such little food. It’s going to be arduous at best. I just hope the will of the people can weather the rest of the journey.
Author: Marv Woflman (Presumed) Published: 2012-02-02 Source Document Lore Archive

From the holovid report of TOM CONNERY, Commander, Terran Republic, Discovery-1 March 2nd, 2641

We aren’t any closer to finding a planet suitable for terraforming than we were five months ago. We saw readings of gas giants a few months ago, as well as a rocky planet with far too much nitrogen, but nothing promising. To make matters worse, tensions between the T.R. and the insurgents have increased recently, and Colonel Morgannis is increasingly worried about an insurrection. As innocent people are getting hurt during these increasingly turbulent times, I had no choice but to go against my most basic principles. To protect our people and to enforce the peace, I had to call in the military. It pains me to see armed soldiers patrolling the halls in increasing numbers, because I know that with more soldiers comes greater resistance. But without them, I can see no other way to maintain some degree of safety.

From the holovid report of TOM CONNERY, Commander, Terran Republic, Discovery-1 December 22nd, 2641

It’s been well over a year since we made it through the wormhole and we’re still lost. Obviously, turning back isn’t an option, so we have no choice but to continue on. The fleet has been referring to the journey as a death march for coming on a year now.

To protect the people, I ordered strict curfews. Despite this, fighting still breaks out regularly throughout the fleet. Initially, the soldiers were instructed to shoot only to stun. But when the insurgents started to kill innocent people, I escalated that order to shoot to kill.

I don’t understand the insurgent’s motives for their actions. I understand the journey hasn’t gone as planned, and that we’re desperate for a full meal, but our best hope this past year has been to work with one another. Yet every few weeks, someone ends up dead after a fight.

From the holovid report of TOM CONNERY, Commander, Terran Republic, Discovery-1 January 3rd, 2642

I had such great expectations. I wanted to believe that as a race we had progressed beyond our base fears. I didn’t want to believe that technology was the only thing that separated us from our caveman ancestors. I fear I was wrong; there are some terrible people on board this fleet.

Yesterday, fifty-three insurgents broke into the military weapons supply aboard the Terran Republic military ship, Explorer-5. They killed six soldiers and stole nearly 300 Cyclers. With their stolen arms, they forced their way onto the ship’s bridge and demanded the Captain to step down and give them the ship. It became clear almost immediately that reasoning with them was out of the question. They wouldn’t budge on disclosing where they planned on taking the ship, what they were going to feed their crew with, or how exactly a few dozen armed civilians planned on operating an entire battle cruiser. I ordered troops to respond.

In the ensuing firefight, over seventy people died, including nearly two dozen T.R. soldiers. The insurgents were nearly wiped out, with only a few critically wounded. Our greatest losses came with the death of Captain Rebecca Grey and a few other key military leaders. Both Col. Morgannis and I have agreed it was a suicide mission intended to weaken our military, as they could’ve hijacked any of the civilian ships successfully once they retrieved the weapons. Instead, they decided to attack one of our two military vessels full of armed troops instead. They didn’t stand a chance.

The civilian ministers, urged on by their constituents, declared martial law for the fleet. Military presence was increased dramatically. The curfew I instigated was strengthened. Everyone was to remain in their cabins after the 6PM dinner. Except for immediate family members, no groups larger than three could be together either in public or private. I did everything I could to fight these draconian measures, but a vote was taken. The people, desperate for peace and security, voted to extend military presence. For security against a minority, they voted away their own freedom. Though with increased armed presence there have been no new outbursts of violence, the people have been imprisoned within the confines of these ships for over two and a half years now. This oppressive decree we’ve shackled onto the people will only serve to make them struggle more.

I decided to call for a secret meeting between the civilian ministers and the military to discuss easing the restrictions. Morgannis and I are coming up with a plan we hope will persuade the people to put down their weapons and work with us. I believe if we fail convincing them, this fleet will become nothing but a collection of derelict ships within a year. The colonel and I have only three days to write up a strategy before our meeting on board the Discovery-7.

For the sake of the fleet, I hope we get it right.
Author: Marv Woflman (Presumed) Published: 2012-02-03 Source Document Lore Archive

Terran Republic Breaking News, 6.1.2642

At 9:00AM today, fleet vessels were rocked by massive explosions on civilian starship Discovery-7 in what has been called “a savage act of treason by unknown agents.” The tragic destruction of Discovery-7 occurred during a previously undisclosed meeting between Mission Commander Thomas Connery, T.R. military representatives and several civilian insurgent leaders. The attacks resulted in the loss of Commander Connery as well as the lives of all other 591 on board.

The purpose of the secret meeting was explained to us by former Minister and current Terran Republic Councilman Adam Miller. “The meeting was formed hastily to broker a new peace agreement with the insurgents in response to the armed uprising that took place three days ago,” he explained. “It was intended to prevent any further catastrophes.”

The newly instated provisional commander, Brent Waterson, responded to the hostilities quickly by enforcing an immediate but temporary fleet-wide curfew. Waterson has released an official statement regarding the immediate future of the fleet stating that “…citizens who cannot show legitimate cause as to why they are outside their quarters past curfew will be immediately detained. As always, based on rules set by the late Commander Connery himself, all laws enacted have to go through a full and transparent voting process. The proposed law is solely based on our concerns with the safety of the fleet.”

When asked for further information regarding the Provisional Commander’s statement, Miller provided some details about the actions being taken. “We’re looking to take swift action and have proposed two possible levels of security in order to bring those responsible to justice efficiently,” said Miller. “Our ‘Level 1’ plan will have individual ships appoint their own police to deal with the investigation of this terrible tragedy. Additionally, the current curfew would be suspended for the time being.”

“Our ‘Level 2’ plan, however, guarantees a far greater amount of security and safety for the fleet,” explained Miller. “‘Level 2’ will give the T.R. military control over all fleet ships, as well as cause for random searches with the intent to find weaponry possible for the attack on Discovery-7. Those found possessing such weapons will be executed without trial. Furthermore, identification must be carried at all times, and curfew hours will remain in place.”

Councilman Miller reassured our reporter that “all such laws will be rescinded once those responsible have been brought to justice. At that point, all control will return to civilian authorities. Once again, I’d like make it evident that your safety is our primary concern.”

Terran Republic Breaking News, 7.1.2642

Though still reeling from the tragic loss of life on Discovery-7 early yesterday morning, voters began sending their ballots in the mandatory security measure polls today at 3PM. With the final tally finishing an hour later, Level 2 security measures won by a narrow 2% margin.

Provisional Commander Waterson confirmed that Security Level 2 would be put into operation no later than noon tomorrow. Waterson insisted that both he and other T.R. officials understand the extreme controversy of this action, but promise to wield their new authority with all possible discretion on a case-by-case basis.

Waterson put forth the following in an official statement to the fleet: “We realize Level 2 security was voted in only by the slimmest of margins, but it remains the majority’s choice. These measures exist solely to protect all citizens from the acts of those who brutally murdered our beloved Commander and the nearly 600 others on the Discovery-7. We will find those responsible for the mass slaughter of our peers and they will pay for their crimes. Only then can the fleet return to normal operations.”

Author: Marv Woflman (Presumed) Published: 2012-05-10 Source Document Lore Archive


Joseph MacGuire kicked his feet onto the desk he and Jack Sloan shared and cleaned the dirt from his fingernails with a Mag-Cutter.

“Not sure why you’re so creeped out by this place, Jackie. It ain’t that much different from our 90th floor office at Genudine, the only difference is that the rats here ain’t wearing suits. ”

Joseph and Jack had worked as a team for Genudine’s corporate security department for years. Joseph’s charisma and ruthless nature helped him excel at his executive level position, while Jack’s technical knowledge and paranoia worked just as well for him.

“Don’t forget we weren’t crammed behind pallets of building supplies in a storage ship warehouse back home either,” Jack smirked, struggling to push rounds into his Repeater’s magazine. “You’d think they’d make these damn things easier to load after all the revisions they’ve done on them.”
“Still don’t know why you need three rounds a pull to shoot vermin. Afraid he’s gonna dodge?” Joseph teased.
“Where’s this informant of yours at, anyway?” Jack said, ignoring his coworker’s quip.
“Should be here soon. She kept repeating how valuable this data of hers was supposed to be for the N.C. Said it would absolve us of any blame,” Joseph said. He wiped his Mag-Cutter clean and stuck it in the table. “All she asked for in exchange was food and protection.”
“Absolve us of what? The T.R. military has swept every civilian ship half a dozen times in the past four days,” Jack said, pulling the slide on his Repeater. “Whatever evidence they’re looking for blew up on Discovery-7.”

Joseph saw a blonde, fair-skinned woman looking around nervously in one of the glowing monitors propped up on his desk. “Looks like that’s her,” he stated, turning to Jack. “Put that thing away, Jackie. Last thing a girl needs to see in a dark warehouse is your scrawny ass drawing a bead on rodents.”

Jack watched Joseph get up and open the door on the other side of the pallets, greeting the woman and leading her in to their makeshift office.

“Have a seat, Krysia,” he smiled.
“Mr. MacGuire, no?” she asked.
“Please, call me Joey,” he grinned at the beautiful woman. “So, what did you bring me today?” Joseph inquired, kicking his feet back onto the desk. Jack rolled his eyes while staring at his monitors, knowing that this would be another agonizing hour of listening to Joseph’s flirty act.
“Mr. MacGuire,” she said, ignoring his charm. “There’s something rotten at the core of this mission. I’ve got a disc showing the beginnings of a major scandal involving the Lieutenant Commander,” she declared.
“Waterson?” Joseph laughed. “What’s a pretty thing like you be doing with that dejected sad sack?”

Krysia fumbled through her bag and pulled a holodisc out. “He was my boss. I’ve been recording him on and off for months to try and get proof of some of his advances, but this I ended up with this about a week ago. I took a few things from his office’s gun safe for protection and I’ve been in hiding since. They’re looking for me, Mr. MacGuire,” she said, handing the thin blue disc to Joseph.

Joseph fumbled under the desk to search for his holoplayer amongst the various wires and electronics. As he popped in the disc, the form of Lt. Commander Waterson sitting at a dimly lit desk slowly flickered to life.

• • •


Lieutenant Commander Brent Waterson clicked on his comm, silencing the intermittent beeping that had interrupted his train of thought. A long day spent in a series of heated impromptu meetings with three other senior officers of the fleet left him with little focus and even less energy.

“Mr. Waterson?” the voice sheepishly questioned.
“Yes, Krysia?” he asked.
“Councilman Miller is here to see you.”
“Great, show him in,” he responded.

Miller was lead into the Lieutenant Commander’s office, a converted no-frills bedroom on Discovery-2. A disheveled Waterson greeted the councilman with a yawn and a handshake.

“What’s going on, Brent? It’s getting a little late for meetings,” Miller yawned.
“Sit down, Adam. We need to talk about this increasingly dire situation,” Waterson said. He filled a mug with from the carafe on his desk and sipped it.
“This couldn’t wait until tomorrow? You’ve made your concerns about food production and housing space perfectly clear.”
“This isn’t about food or housing, Adam. It’s about Connery.”
“Connery? What happened?”

The Lieutenant Commander paused and leaned forward onto his desk. “Nothing happened to him, Adam. I’m concerned with the way things are going with the fleet. We’ll all be dead in two years time, and it’s going to be because of Tom.”

“Two years? What the hell are you on about, Brent? He’s the only thing holding the morale of this fleet together.”
“Morale? There’s a crime epidemic that’s been spreading over the fleet for months. Nobody has any confidence in this mission anymore. We left our desire to finish this journey together on the other side of that wormhole.”
“You’ve seen the statistics, Lieutenant. Unrest throughout the fleet is high, but it’s only a small fraction of the population responsible for the problems we’ve experienced over the past few months. It’s hardly a damn epidemic.”
“The majority of that ‘small fraction’ we’ve been throwing into Explorer-5’s jail have connections to that New Conglomerate group. Connery’s letting Mattherson’s mercenaries run amok on the fleet, and all he needs to do is tighten the Republic’s grip on the people. Instead, he’s giving them the velvet glove treatment. There were half a dozen casualties in that housing ship just last week. What happens when your daughter ends up in the wrong place at the wrong time? The N.C. is going to tear this fleet apart.”
“What exactly are you proposing Connery needs to do, Brent?”

Waterson perked up and smiled. “Pull his head out of his ass, for starters,” he barked. “Hell, this conversation wouldn’t be taking place had he enacted martial law back in October as soon as we left the Solar system. We need a fleet-wide curfew; we need to prevent them from assembling. Instead, Connery considers the freedoms of the people are worth more than their lives. Civilians are still in possession of whatever firearms they decided to bring along with them two years ago,” Waterson ranted. “We should’ve disarmed them before this mission even started.”

The Lieutenant Commander paused and stared into the mug as he swirled the coffee around. “Ideally, what Connery needs to do,” he continued, “is step down as the commander of this mission. Let someone with a pair run the show.”

“The man ran a government that took care of forty-three billion people; he can handle the forty thousand in the fleet. You’re insane to think he’s going to step down,” Miller said. “Even more so if you think the people would even consider voting the man out to allow some hard-ass to enact your neurotic, heavy handed restrictions.”
“These restrictions are the only things that are going to keep this fleet alive long enough to find a planet we can live on, Miller.”
“Lieutenant, I’m not certain what you’re expecting to accomplish by bringing this up to me alone. Hell, you could’ve saved your breath for next week’s council meeting when they shoot down your oppressive measures like any sane person would do. I’m done with this ridiculous meeting, Waterson,” Miller said. He shook his head and turned around, walking towards the closed door.
“I wouldn’t walk through that door if you value your family’s lives, Adam. You should sit down,” Waterson threatened.

The councilman froze mid-step. “Excuse me?”

“It’d be an awful shame your Jenny is at the wrong place at the wrong time. I can’t exactly promise that the local authorities could continue to keep your family safe, what with being spread so thin lately. I’ve spoken to far more than just you about this matter, Adam, and the final step before I can begin to put this plan into action is your cooperation. Everything else is already in place, and all we need now is another beloved figurehead. When the time comes, of course.”

Miller stood facing the door and turned around to the grinning Lieutenant Commander, knowing his hands were tied. “Another? You’re sickening, Brent. How do you call yourself T.R.?”

“Because no one will ever find out, Adam. Who would question us if we pinned it on some of Mattherson’s starving N.C. cronies? We’re calling the shots here, remember? I trust that you’ll comply, given the terms of our agreement, correct?” Waterson said, grinning at his victory.
• • •


Jack paused the holovid and looked at the frozen image of Waterson grinning in shock. “You think it’s real?”

“I’d say so, Jackie. This needs to get to command before someone offs Old Man Connery. I just can’t tell if Waterson truly believes it or just thinks Connery is hogging the limelight,” Joseph said. He began to stand up.
“It’s good then, no? I’ll be compensated and protected for this? Secure room, food?”

Joseph paused, sat back down and smiled at her. “We haven’t ironed anything out yet, Krysia. I can assure you that you’ll be compensated well when this is all finished.”

“Waterson is hunting me down, Mr. MacGuire. I can’t just go back home and wait for you to talk to Connery.”
“Unfortunately, we’re completely removed from anything related to your compensation as part of N.C. policy to prevent misuse of our already stretched supplies. We’ll have one of the lawyers on Discovery-9 write up a contract in a few days after we can verify the authenticity of this holovid.“

Krysia stood up and leaned over their desk as any trace of patience disappeared from her demeanor. “You assured me I would be taken care of, Mr. MacGuire. I can’t just sit around at home anymore waiting for your lawyers to cut through red tape.”

“I’m sure we can expedite the process, Krysia. We can have this taken care of tomorrow morning, easily,” Joseph assured her.

Krysia pulled the Mag-Cutter out of his desk and leaned in further, pointing it at his throat. “I’ll be as good as dead the second I step onto Discovery-2. I’m not going back.” Joseph slowly pushed his chair backwards. “Hey, hey, let’s take a step back here, ma’am. We can-“

He flinched as his words were cut short by three rapid deafening bangs. When he opened his eyes, he only caught a brief glimpse of blonde hair sliding along the table before disappearing. He turned to see Jack, shaking violently and holding a Repeater.

“The hell is wrong with you, Jackie? I had it under control!” Joseph shouted.
“She had a Mag to your throat, Joey. You wanted me to wait for her to turn the thing on?”

Joseph slid over the desk to find the woman on her side. “Ma’am? Can you hear me?” he asked, leaning in closer. He shook her shoulder briskly to no response. He stood up and turned to his panicked friend. “She’s bleeding out.”

“What the hell do we do with her?”
“We? You’re going to figure out the closest airlock and get rid of her. This ain’t on my hands.”

Their argument was interrupted by rustling behind them. Joseph turned around to see Krysia’s bloodied grin as a grenade rolled into his boot.

Note: This article contains a known discrepancy with other lore.
Author: Marv Woflman (Presumed) Published: 2012-07-03 Source Document Lore Archive

March 15th, 2642

To say that food has been scarce since we made it through the wormhole would be an understatement. If we didn’t have so many provisions already stored outside of the hydroponic ships, the fleet would have run out of food months ago. With only three of the original twenty-three hydroponics making it through in one piece, everyone has had to go hungry. It’s been well over a year since I’ve had a full meal.

The military has been put on an even higher alert after the vote went through a couple months back. I didn’t know a higher level of security was possible until I saw them start locking people up for being outside of their rooms passed eight.

Everyone is still in shock over the destruction of the Discovery-7 and Tom Connery’s death. I can see Councilman Miller doing his best to keep positive, to give people hope and inspiration, but given the provisions we have left, I honestly have no idea how we’re going to make it. It’s getting harder and harder to shake the feeling that we’re all going to starve to death long before we can find a new home.

April 10th, 2642

The excitement throughout the fleet is palpable – we’ve picked up signs of a world that could support human life on the other side of this system! From this distance we’ve got no idea what sort of shape the atmosphere is in, but our terraforming equipment should be able to handle whatever the planet throws at us, so long as there’s oxygen and a nearby star.

The journey will be long, and we still have challenges to overcome, but the fleet has real hope again! We’re slated to arrive on “New Earth” by January of next year.

Councilman Miller requested that the military suspend, or at least extend, tonight’s curfew. After all these months, he felt the people needed to be able to enjoy this moment with their friends and families. To his credit, Commander Waterson has agreed to extend the curfew to midnight for tonight.

It’s been a good day.

I must admit these last few months have troubled me deeply. I know how much Connery hated the idea of military control over the fleet, but had Waterson been given the authority he has now earlier, Tom and the rest of Discovery-7 would still be here today.

Since the military clamped down after the attack, there have been no additional outbreaks of violence. If only we had done more, sooner… I can only hope their continued diligence deters any more fighting in the future.

Speaking of the future - now that we seem to have one, I’ve followed up with Adam about what Waterson intends to do about the government when we arrive on New Earth. The councilman has assured me that the military intends to return control to civilian authorities as soon as we’ve landed. He says he’s already reviewed the paperwork himself, but still, I’m grateful that the Terran Republic has laws that prevent any of their worlds from falling under military rule.

I, like many, may question the actions of the military, but those laws allow us to never have to question their motives. Peace and the rule of law, but never at the expense of their citizens. The democracy we’ve created on Earth is to extend to all of our colonies.

Now I’m off to celebrate! If I can dig anything up tonight, I think I’ll have a drink for Mr. Connery. He should have been here for this.

[edit] Known Discrepancies

Despite PlanetSide 2 having—unlike its predecessor—an official and cohesive set of fiction surrounding it, the timeline as it has been so far established is not without its inconsistencies. Discrepancies in the lore surrounding a work of fiction are common in every genre, and usually consist of incorrect names, dates, or events that are either referred to erroneously or “retconned”—the process of rewriting or otherwise changing a fictional past in order to explain new plot advances.

The following is a list of known discrepancies, singled out here based on being direct logical contradictions to the majority of other sources available.

[edit] Discovery-7 vs. Colonial-7

According to the majority of sources available, the name of the ship on which Tom Connery and Richmond Morgannis were killed is the Discovery-7. However, in the short story “JANUARY 5TH, 2642 - THE HOLOVID DIARY OF COLONEL RICHMOND MORGANNIS”, Jessicana Morgannis refers to the ship as the Colonial-7. All other details, including the total number of people killed aboard the ship and the events prior to and following its destruction, remain the same.

The name Colonial-7 was likely part of an early draft that went uncorrected in the final piece.

[edit] MacGuire’s Misstep

According to the majority of sources available, Tom Connery was killed on January 6, 2642. However, in the short story “CONSPIRACY”, which takes place four days after the destruction of the Discovery-7, Joseph MacGuire refers to Connery as though he was still alive. After seeing a video in which Brent Waterson is implicated in a plot against Connery’s life, MacGuire says the the video “needs to get to command before someone offs Old Man Connery”, despite the fact that the entire fleet was made aware of Connery’s death on the day it occurred 4 days earlier. Still more confusing is that, earlier in the piece, MacGuire’s companion Jack Sloan refers to the destruction of the Discovery-7 as though it had already happened, suggesting—somewhat impossibly—that they knew of the disaster but not that Connery himself had been involved.

It is likely that the piece was originally written to occur prior to the destruction of Discovery-7 and was later edited to occur afterwards, with MacGuire’s conflicting line overlooked in the edited version. It is also possible that the author became confused due to the inconsistent use of date stamps: Many of the short stories use mm.dd.yyyy while others use dd.mm.yyyy. “CONSPIRACY” itself is broken into three sections date-stamped 1.11.2642, 1.2.2642, and 1.11.2642 respectively. While the first and third sections’ stamps could be interpreted as either four days after the explosion (January 11) or two months prior (November 1), the second section’s stamp can only be interpreted as January 2—not February 1—as it details events that had to occur not only before the explosion aboard Discovery-7 on January 6 but also before the events in the first and third sections of the story. Assuming the three dates within the story aren’t inconsistent with each other, the sections can therefore only be interpreted as all having occurred in January of 2642.

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