[05] Elite: Reclamation (2 page)

My pitch was that I was a fan myself. I tried to indicate this with my videos and text for the Kickstarter project. I hoped to appeal to the nostalgia, allay fears and show that I merely wanted to fulfil an ambition, but also come across as a serious contender.

I launched my own Kickstarter at 9am on 21 November 2012.

Immediate friends, family and internet buddies pitched in on the first day as you might expect, but overnight on the first day a serious pledge came in, £500 in one fell swoop. One-third of the target had been reached. It was at that point I begin to believe it was actually possible.

Then the press coverage started.

A few internet articles may not sound like a big deal, but when it’s directly about you and what you’re doing it seems like a pretty intense spotlight. The controversy that had appeared in nascent form on the Kickstarter comments page, now raged across major gaming websites. On balance most of the coverage was on the negative side. There was lots of derogatory talk of pyramid and Ponzi scheming, even though I’d been very clear (I thought) as to what I was trying to do. I was after something very concrete – an official license. Many folks seemed to be under the impression that I was just grabbing money. The potential for people to misunderstand intentions, read in their own bias and attack something because it’s already under attack was reaffirmed. Change is difficult and crowds are fickle things.

But some articles were positive. A number of internet stalwarts bravely defended me, a growing list of backers on my own Kickstarter indicated I’d done something right and, I’m told, there’s no such thing as bad publicity. I persevered, trying to answer the detractors with rational explanations, reassuring people as to my intentions. The naysayers grew fewer in number (and some, all credit to them, converted to the cause) as the funding levels grew. Clearly it was working.

We hit the target a mere nine days later. It was 13:39 on 30 November 2012. Ultimately a total of £7,000 was provided mostly by strangers; fans of the game that wanted to see what I could come up with. I could hardly believe what had happened.

I had the privilege of taking the first ‘Writer’s Pack’ and contributing that £4,500 into the Elite: Dangerous Kickstarter. That pledge pushed the Elite: Dangerous Kickstarter past its halfway point. David Braben posted a hearty congratulations. It was a welcome shot in the arm for the game, as it had been languishing a little in the middle of its own Kickstarter process.

Other Kickstarters followed, more books arrived, some funded to even faster and to higher levels than mine. The Elite community solidified behind the idea, more chunky pledges rolled in as a result. The Elite: Dangerous Kickstarter exceeded its own target and went on to provide stretch goals. I’m not saying the writers saved the Elite: Dangerous Kickstarter itself, but we certainly helped turn the tide and raised the profile. Twenty-five thousand fans did the rest.

That’s more than a year ago now. I’ve written the book, conscious throughout of the fan community that gave me this opportunity. I’ll be forever in their debt; those who backed me, those who defended me, those who encouraged me along the way. To them I can only say a heartfelt thank you.

Elite: Reclamation
is my contribution to the canon of this amazing game, this amazing adventure, thirty years in the making. This story has been crafted with much care, energy, enthusiasm and not a little heartache. It had its genesis in controversy and clamour. It’s by a fan, for the fans. I hope you enjoy it.

Right on, Commanders.

Drew Wagar,

January 2014.

AD 3297

Prologue

The light of the Prism sun faded rapidly, a band of darkness sweeping in from the east like a thin ethereal shroud, the sky darkening from a bright azure to an inky blackness. The gas giant Mestra, though only a point of light, outshone every star in the sky and cast a shadow in the gloom.

Daedalion, far closer than that distant world, blazed like an immense ring of blue fire in the sky, its atmosphere illuminated from behind as the Prism sun was swiftly obscured. A multitude of stars sprung into the sky as darkness fell, glittering in Chione’s cooling atmosphere. The wildlife fell silent; the daily eclipse had begun.

Chira was late; she sighed at herself for not setting off home earlier. The alignment of the three other stars in the system wasn’t favourable this season; it was properly dark now. There were few lights ahead of them; the philosophy of the colony had always been to avoid the energy excess that plagued more ‘advanced’ worlds. Chira had often heard tell of worlds lost in a smog of noxious pollution where generations had grown up without ever seeing a star.

‘Stay close my dears. Tread carefully.’

She squinted into the dark and pulled her two charges close in beside her, grasping their hands firmly as she led them on. They were hurrying up a path that led from the coast back to the city; a steep climb away from the sea and then a walk along the cliffs before striking inland for the last few kilometres. She cursed under her breath, lamenting her advancing years. Had she been younger the walk up from the sea would not have taken so long. Both children were tired, having been fishing most of the day. Ahead, the dark bulk of the nearest series of dwellings could just be seen in the gloom, beyond a low rise. The pinnacle that marked the centre of the city was the only building that was conspicuously illuminated, glowing like a splinter of crystal thrust up from the ground. It wasn’t far now, but somehow it looked further in the dark.

‘What’s that?’

Chira felt a yank on her arm as the small boy she was leading on her left stopped.

‘Not now Tomsh. We need to …’

‘But, it’s red. Pretty red. Why’s it red?’

‘Never you mind,’ Chira admonished, pulling on the young boy’s arm. He looked up at her with a frown. Just like the one his father used to wear at this age. Chira smiled at him fondly.

‘Come now, or your father will want to know why.’

Tomsh and his sister Tarna were the children of a wealthy council member in Leeson City. Chira could see him in her mind’s eye, impatiently awaiting their arrival on the steps of the administrative centre. They should have been back already.

Chira was a nanny; a task she found increasingly tiring each year. This was the third generation of children she’d brought up, and she very much thought it would be her last. A small but cosy cottage in the foothills beyond the city awaited her in a few short months where she could live out the rest of her days in peace and quiet.

‘He’s right, look!’ the girl on her right added, turning around and letting go of Chira’s hand in the process.

‘Tarna, you should know better than to encourage him, it’s time to …’

Tarna was the eldest of the pair and, if it were possible, even more inquisitive. She was nine to her brother's five years of age; a tall lanky girl, taking after her father’s beanpole frame. She had bushy blonde hair that defied Chira’s attempts to comb it under control.

A faint rumble interrupted her admonishment, a double roll of distant thunder. Chira straightened and turned, her back complaining with the effort. She squinted into the pale sky, annoyed at the intrusion.

She gasped in dismay.

Above there were streams of glowing smoke, radiating outwards as if from Daedalion itself, spreading like an ever widening fan. Each trail was headed by a flaming sphere of bright red fire, rolling and boiling across the sky. Shadows flickered uncertainly across the ground as if unsure which way to cast themselves.

Chira saw Tarna and Tomsh’s faces eerily lit by the glow as the streams passed overhead. The streams were descending, slowing, yet the reverberation of their passing grew stronger all the time. Crackles of thunder from high up in the sky echoed dully around them as they stared upwards in trepidation.

‘What are they?’ Tarna gasped, shouting to be heard above the rising din.

Chira firmly grabbed their hands. ‘Nothing good, that’s for sure. Come, quickly now.’

As they turned and began to run towards the city a stiff breeze arose, knocking them backwards, gasping for breath. The grass around them bent in the wind, trees creaked and birds rose squawking into the air.

Ahead, over the city, a dazzling but silent light broke out, white and pure. The children stumbled ahead of her, hands going up to shield their eyes from the intense glare. For a moment Chira saw the whole landscape in front of her lit up as if by the midday sun. She blinked, afterglow colours flashing in her eyes, half blinded by the brightness.

She heard Tarna scream and lost hold of Tomsh’s hand.

‘Tomsh!’

 Then, without respite, came the blast.

Such a noise had never been heard on Chione in living memory. Wildlife around them scattered in panic, the ground trembled and shook. Tarna continued to scream, but her thin voice was swept away by the cataclysmic detonation. Chira was cast backwards to lie on her back prone on the ground, her mind shattered into panic by the reverberating clamour. The noise faded abruptly into silence punctuated only by a steady ringing in her ears. Her eyes caught sight of Tarna, looking down at her, eyes wide with horror, hands pressed against ears that were thick with dark red blood. Above her terrified face the sky was now bright with many streams of fire, red, orange and white, cascading downwards.

Fire arose. Chira saw Tarna’s blonde hair consumed in a moment of agonising ignition. The sky blackened with soot. Pain and despair mixed in a final moment of lucidity. Tarna’s immolated body was swept away in a shower of sparks.

Then, mercifully, consciousness was extinguished too.

***

The main planet of the Mithra system was, in Tenim Neseva’s not so humble opinion, one of the best resort planets for those who valued doing as little as possible on vacation. Orbiting close to a red dwarf the planet was tidally locked, the large warm sun stayed permanently in place above the sunbather, preventing any need for them to tediously rearrange their recliner to ensure uninterrupted enjoyment throughout the day. The climate was constant all year round and here, in the temperate zone, cloud cover was negligible. Being a red dwarf there was no trouble with the inconvenient ultra-violet radiation that plagued the pleasure of hotter stars. One could find one’s spot and, with the provision of food and beverages, enjoy it pretty much forever. That was certainly Tenim’s plan.

A commissioner with responsibility for a small local group of star systems, his job had become routine, quiet and trouble free. The worlds were stable nowadays, unlike earlier times he recalled, with a shiver, when some tedious rebellion or uprising seemed to be happening almost every week. Back then he’d had to be in the office almost every day. He wondered how he’d tolerated it. At least now he could enjoy the fruits of his labours.

He sucked down another mouthful of his Zaqueesoan Evil Juice, a curious purple-coloured beverage. It was allegedly brewed from beetles, so the story went, somewhere down in the old worlds region. Tenim had meant to visit those systems once, all so rich in ancient history; Lave, Diso, Leesti and the rest, perhaps a spin across to the Tionisla Orbital Graveyard. Maybe next year, it was an awfully long way. Space travel remained something of an acquired taste.

A faint musical melody gently started playing, and the words ‘Incoming call – Urgent’ softly faded into his line of sight. He blinked in surprise and annoyance. The office calling him, and at drink time too?

The accompanying video was of an attractive middle-aged brunette with bright green eyes and a mischievous looking smile. He relaxed a little. Jenu was his secretary. She organised his life for him and undertook a number of other pleasurable, but surreptitious, duties too. Perhaps she’d organised one of their accidental, yet curiously fortuitous, meetings.

 ‘Jenu,’ Tenim said, with his best air of nonchalance, ‘unless you are offering to come down here and rub Tionislan grub oil into my back for the next hour I can’t see any possible reason why you’d feel justified in interrupting me.’

Jenu’s next sentence, bereft of their usual banter, was short and to the point.

‘There’s been an attack, casualties …’

Tenim leapt to his feet, his glass of Evil Juice dropping from his fingers, smashing on the ground and splattering his feet with shards of glass and thick purple liquid. Tenim spluttered in response.

‘Are you sure?’

‘We’ve got footage bounced from a comms satellite. See for yourself.’

Jenu’s image shifted right and a glowing rectangle appeared in the vacated space. It quickly resolved into a second video feed. It was decidedly poor quality with a low frame rate, but Tenim could easily make out the dark surface of a world, with faint lights from a small city on the surface. A tactical overlay identified a number of swiftly moving objects descending towards it.

‘Where’s this?’

‘Chione.’

‘Which is?’ Tenim demanded, unable to recall the name.

‘Moon of Daedalion.’ Jenu waited for acknowledgement and when it didn’t come she added. ‘Second planet in the Prism system? It’s on the edge of our jurisdiction.’

‘Oh yes. I remember. Prism system, of course.’

‘Of course.’ Jenu’s voice sounded appropriately demure.

A flash of white light sparked on the video, whiting out the camera for a moment as it struggled to adjust its exposure. Once it had cleared, the area could be seen to be aflame; the city obscured by smoke, the countryside around it burning fiercely.

‘Simple airburst by the look of it,’ Jenu said dispassionately. ‘Enough to kill most, but leave a lot of the infrastructure intact.’

‘Randomius! Who the …?’

‘Hyperspace diagnostics record multiple targets arriving. I’ve already worked the tracks back to the Haoria system, there’s no doubt about it.’ Jenu was nothing if not efficient.

Tenim straightened, ‘I thought those Imperial ‘stards had been unusually quiet of late. Survivors?’

‘Unknown. Won’t be many by the looks of it.’