- Location
- National Capital Region, USA
[X] Digital painting.
It never goes simple, does it? Instead of a quiet, sleepy garrison at a fuel stop, we've got an alert (if bloodied) garrison already ready to fight. On the plus side, they have no idea we're not here to help them, and if we're lucky we can use the shock and surprise of our reveal as a weapon to force their morale to collapse, maybe even push them to surrender if they can't tell how badly the Midgard Serpent is shot up.
It never goes simple, does it? Instead of a quiet, sleepy garrison at a fuel stop, we've got an alert (if bloodied) garrison already ready to fight. On the plus side, they have no idea we're not here to help them, and if we're lucky we can use the shock and surprise of our reveal as a weapon to force their morale to collapse, maybe even push them to surrender if they can't tell how badly the Midgard Serpent is shot up.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Also, more worryingly, they're spread across an inhabited colony complex instead of conveniently in their barracks for the plasma cannon-ing.
SirLagginton
Shadow Cabal Caerbannog Bun-Bun
- Location
- Arrrghhh
[X] Bad poetry.
Interlude: I Will Break the Galaxy
- Pronouns
- He/Him
The galaxy is broken for a thousand reasons, each of which makes sense in context. Take your situation, and the imminent horrible deaths of your captors. You are mute, quirk of birth and genetic engineering gone wrong, but none of your captors could sign. So they flash-cloned another slave soldier who could, who could translate the results of their torture.
If you're a psychotic fascist monster, this makes sense. The clones are disposable equipment, they will do what you tell them to, you can throw them out if they don't. So make one to do what you can't. If it goes wrong, you'll dispose of it later.
If you're the clone, you were born today, witnessed horrible torture, and were in no way psychologically prepared for this. You can feel that your body is wrong, that you joints ache, your guts burn, your eyes water and the world is terrifying and violent. And the woman you're helping to torture offers you a way out, a body, peace, and a better world.
The result is obvious, catastrophic, and functionally inevitable. If it wasn't you and the Dabiq interpreter, it would be some other clone unready for their world, some other prisoner a step too clever.
Steps echo down the hall. Jesse, the woman tending to your electrical burns, looks up towards you, looking for reassurance. You nod, and she quickly pulls your shirt back together. Jesse is local, a freedom fighter caught up before the Battle at Rubicon Gate. She doesn't understand your signs, but you get along well enough.
So-Yi helps. She was infantry aboard the Kipling, one of those living war-engines so common in the colonies. More importantly, she's been translating for you to the other prisoners. Relaying orders, plans, and the like. Your captors think she was a servant.
As you said, coherent logic, terrible conclusions.
Four people step into view. Tall and gangly, in the vacsuit uniforms of the Shield of Dabiq. Malcolm is your turncoat, casually handsome, with soft eyes, two fingers malformed due to his rushed birth. He's in back, good hand drumming against his pistol. Ahead of him is the torturer, clean, white, and unmarked by the flash-cloning process. He was someone's child, grew up in the world, and tortures despite it.
The other two are guards with stunprods in their hands and shotguns slung across their back. You can't tell if they're slave-soldiers or not, at the least, if they were flash-cloned they were done more carefully than Malcolm was, and have acculturated to the horrors of their life. They certainly haven't hesitated to shock you. Or to shotgun helpless prisoners.
You flash Malcolm a quick sign as they approach. "Cameras down?" He nods in response, and you let yourself relax, lay against the wall as the group approaches. Today is the day.
The torturer knocks, and you ignore him. "It'll be easier if you cooperate," he lies, and you ignore him again. He begins to speak to Malcolm, to gesture for him to sign the order, but then loses patience and gestures for the guards to enter with their stun prods.
You look up, meeting the eyes of the woman tasked with dragging you from the cell. She wields her stunprod like a spear, waving it at you and Jesse as she approaches. Her friend has a shotgun out, covering So-Yi. She steps forwards, stabs towards your gut.
And a bullet rips through her shoulder.
You pounce. You hear So-Yi land heavily upon the other guard, hear the Torturer start screaming at Malcolm. You get on top of your foe, on top of her stunprod, weighing her down as Jesse wrestles her gun away.
Another shot, the Torturer's yells turn to screams of pain. The stunprod activates and you writhe in pain as it burns your gut, feel yourself lose control of your body, your muscles, limbs, flailing despite your will as the person below you bleeds to death. You see Jesse rise, shotgun in hand, and shoot the guard grappling with So-Yi. So-Yi then shoots the torturer and, finally, the guard who shocked you before helping you to your feet.
"Good work," you sign unsteadily. You motion and Jesse grabs a keycard from the torturer's corpse and dashes across the hall, freeing a group of prisoners as you limp out of the room.
"You're hurt, Ambassador," says So-Yi, "Sit down, Jesse can open the cells."
"We don't have time," you sign, ignoring the burning in your legs and belly that very much wants to take So-Yi's advice, "You need to take the warden's office, now. I'll get the cells."
Neither of them seem happy about it, but they comply. Jesse hands you the card before So-Yi leads her and the other prisoners in a charge towards the warden's office. You turn to move down the hall, opening cells, signing for prisoners to join them. Reassuring the injured. Helping the weak. You've finished the hall, and have turned to find more prisoners when you see Malcolm standing transfixed where you left him.
He's staring at the torturer's corpse, utterly paralyzed. His pistol has fallen from his fingertips, and you slowly, gingerly bend down to grab it as he watches.
Malcolm meets your gaze with horrified eyes and hurried breath. His hands, his whole body, quivers with fear as he waits for the gunshot. Waits for the consequences he knows must come
You hand him back his pistol.
"You've saved a lot of lives, and done a great thing," you sign, "And you don't have to kill again if you don't want to. But if you want the life I promised you, we need to get out of here."
"Jesse, you said you recognize the assailants?" you sign. You're in Life Support, which you've turned into an impromptu briefing room. Half a dozen prisoners join you: So-Yi and two other Kipling crew, Jesse, a corporate shuttle pilot named Taufik, and a pirate infosec specialist who insists upon being referred to solely as Dong Zhou.
The revolt has gone rather well. You punched out of the cells, killed the Warden and his goons, overran one of the barracks, life support, the engine, and an armory, but the frontmost third of the ship was locked down by the time you reached it. Blast doors sealed, archways turned into killboxes to keep you away from the hangar and the bridge, and the jump cut early in the desperate hope of rescue.
You'd been working on an alternate form of egress when the new guys arrived. A single, large boarding shuttle escorted by a lithe warmech. They were still approaching, the mech engaging the prison barge's meager defenders while the shuttle beelined for the hangar but you couldn't exactly hail them. So the question became to let them fight on their own and exploit the resulting weakness, or risk it all to assist.
"They're my people," she confirms, and after a moment of blank glances from the Kipling crew, she clarifies, "Nahab. We're freedom fighters."
"They're insurrectionists," mutters Taufik, "Half the reason we're in this mess."
That earns him a glare from Jesse, a laugh from Dong Zhou, and a motion to shut up from you. The last quiets him. "Why do you fight? What do you have?" You sign.
"We protect people," says Jesse, "Cause no-one else does." Another snort from Dong Zhou, but Jesse continues unimpeded. "We don't have much, a couple of bases where they can't be found, some friendly habs that'll shelter us and pass us goods, a few ships. But we fight off pirates, hit Dabiq and corporate ships where we can."
You nod, then motion for Taufik to speak. "They're just pirates," says Taufik, "They disrupt corporate operations, are in open rebellion against the Terran Sphere, and are opposed to the basic tenets of colonial society."
"The basis of colonial-" You glare at Jesse, and she shuts up.
"Don't misunderstand me," continues Taufik, "I appreciate that they found us before a Dabiq patrol did, but tying ourselves to them would be a mistake. If they punch through, great, they can take theirs and leave. But we shouldn't tie our fortunes to them."
You nod, and look to Dong Zhou. He shrugs. "They're principled people in a Terran galaxy," he says simply, "No organization, little leadership, lotta hope. They'll be fucked in a year or two. Another group of pirates in three." There's something in his tone you like, a wistfulness, a poor memory dredged up. Experience, perhaps.
It only takes you a moment to make your decision. You can organize a rabble, serve as leadership, but you've spent your entire career, your entire life, waiting for this opportunity. If they turn out to be unworthy, well, you'll make them worthy. "They're good enough," you sign calmly, "Let's lend them a hand."
The battle had been brutal but, once you arrived, short. The Shield had been sandwiched between the boarding party and your escapees, chokepoints and defensive preparations counting for little once they'd been outmaneuvered. It's the closest you've ever been to a proper battle, the most real the immediate impact of the carnage has ever gotten. The stench of corpses, the distant din of weapons fire as your people take the bridge, sensors, the remaining corridors of the ship, the cries of the wounded and the dying.
You are used to a more detached scene. Interviewing survivors days, months later. Watching mechs duel in the far distance, or your shuttle pilot tell you the situation as you weave through some spaceborne skirmish.
You step gingerly over a corpse, towards the Nahab shuttle. It's a low, squat thing with a boarding ramp reminiscent of a frog's mouth. A pair of massive autocannons perch flank the ramp, both destroyed by weapon's fire. The Nahabi themselves are disorganized, tending to their wounded and trying to figure out their next steps, connect with Jesse and their contacts among the prisoners, even as yours sweep the ship.
You see Jesse and Malcolm speaking to a tall man with fiery hair and a young woman with one arm and scavenged armor. Malcolm carries a rifle, stained with someone else's blood, Jesse stands at ease, smiling for the first time since you've met her. You knock gently against a railing to get their attention, and Malcolm steps to your side to translate.
"Ambassador Ayubi, I'm told I must thank you for the assistance," starts the man. His voice is light and pleasant, but professional, and your heart clenches as you realize that it reminds you of Shahid. He reminds you of a professor rather than a bandit, but that isn't all that uncommon when sectors go downhill. "We can take any who want shelter, or to join us, and should be able to take off shortly."
"There's no need," you sign, "Tell your mech to land. We'll be delivering you the prison ship, if you can give us coordinates. Those uninterested will leave before we arrive."
All of the Nahab who heard you pause, turn, staring at you. "We wouldn't presume-" he starts, but you are in no mood to debate, so you interrupt him.
"Consider it a gift, sir," you sign, "A sign of goodwill, in the name of great things to come."
You've debated your plan for the refinery and, eventually, came up with a new plan. What is it?
Previous vote remains open
[ ] Hit and Run (.6x)
Lieutenant Singh politely revealed the only refinery they have under control. Dart in, rip open the defenders, take the goods, and leave. You can debate a more permanent solution once you have more crew.
Pros: Easy, short, fuel's no longer an issue, locals aren't associated with you
Cons: Local situation isn't resolved, reveals your identity, you won't be able to get all the other goodies available.
Supported by Oliveira
[ ] This Is a Sneaking Mission
You send in a shuttle with Li, Shorn, and a few marines to buy time. You hang on the outside of the shuttle and launch yourself into the civilian hab while you approach. Alex provides codes and live information. Li and Shorn recon and begin negotiations while stalling. You free the civilians and deal with the skeleton garrisons on the outer habitats. Once the civilians are out of harm's way, you attack and force the Shield to retreat.
Pros: Safest for local populace
Cons: Risky, getting to your mech will be difficult, escaping hostiles are inevitable, you have to trust Alex
Supported by Alex, who does not get a vote, and Doc Voeman.
[ ] We're the Goddamn Cavalry
Contact the civilian protestors. Introduce yourself, and coordinate. You assault the Shield's position, destroying their ships and Mechs. The locals muster their fighter craft and militia, pressuring the Shield and forcing a surrender on the main hab. The garrisons on the auxilliary habs will be offered a chance to surrender once the main force is felled.
Pros: You'll be able to coordinate with the locals more easily, easy to minimize escaping hostiles
Cons: Open battle in an inhabited colony complex, Locals are very openly tied to your cause.
Supported by Shorn
If you're a psychotic fascist monster, this makes sense. The clones are disposable equipment, they will do what you tell them to, you can throw them out if they don't. So make one to do what you can't. If it goes wrong, you'll dispose of it later.
If you're the clone, you were born today, witnessed horrible torture, and were in no way psychologically prepared for this. You can feel that your body is wrong, that you joints ache, your guts burn, your eyes water and the world is terrifying and violent. And the woman you're helping to torture offers you a way out, a body, peace, and a better world.
The result is obvious, catastrophic, and functionally inevitable. If it wasn't you and the Dabiq interpreter, it would be some other clone unready for their world, some other prisoner a step too clever.
Steps echo down the hall. Jesse, the woman tending to your electrical burns, looks up towards you, looking for reassurance. You nod, and she quickly pulls your shirt back together. Jesse is local, a freedom fighter caught up before the Battle at Rubicon Gate. She doesn't understand your signs, but you get along well enough.
So-Yi helps. She was infantry aboard the Kipling, one of those living war-engines so common in the colonies. More importantly, she's been translating for you to the other prisoners. Relaying orders, plans, and the like. Your captors think she was a servant.
As you said, coherent logic, terrible conclusions.
Four people step into view. Tall and gangly, in the vacsuit uniforms of the Shield of Dabiq. Malcolm is your turncoat, casually handsome, with soft eyes, two fingers malformed due to his rushed birth. He's in back, good hand drumming against his pistol. Ahead of him is the torturer, clean, white, and unmarked by the flash-cloning process. He was someone's child, grew up in the world, and tortures despite it.
The other two are guards with stunprods in their hands and shotguns slung across their back. You can't tell if they're slave-soldiers or not, at the least, if they were flash-cloned they were done more carefully than Malcolm was, and have acculturated to the horrors of their life. They certainly haven't hesitated to shock you. Or to shotgun helpless prisoners.
You flash Malcolm a quick sign as they approach. "Cameras down?" He nods in response, and you let yourself relax, lay against the wall as the group approaches. Today is the day.
The torturer knocks, and you ignore him. "It'll be easier if you cooperate," he lies, and you ignore him again. He begins to speak to Malcolm, to gesture for him to sign the order, but then loses patience and gestures for the guards to enter with their stun prods.
You look up, meeting the eyes of the woman tasked with dragging you from the cell. She wields her stunprod like a spear, waving it at you and Jesse as she approaches. Her friend has a shotgun out, covering So-Yi. She steps forwards, stabs towards your gut.
And a bullet rips through her shoulder.
You pounce. You hear So-Yi land heavily upon the other guard, hear the Torturer start screaming at Malcolm. You get on top of your foe, on top of her stunprod, weighing her down as Jesse wrestles her gun away.
Another shot, the Torturer's yells turn to screams of pain. The stunprod activates and you writhe in pain as it burns your gut, feel yourself lose control of your body, your muscles, limbs, flailing despite your will as the person below you bleeds to death. You see Jesse rise, shotgun in hand, and shoot the guard grappling with So-Yi. So-Yi then shoots the torturer and, finally, the guard who shocked you before helping you to your feet.
"Good work," you sign unsteadily. You motion and Jesse grabs a keycard from the torturer's corpse and dashes across the hall, freeing a group of prisoners as you limp out of the room.
"You're hurt, Ambassador," says So-Yi, "Sit down, Jesse can open the cells."
"We don't have time," you sign, ignoring the burning in your legs and belly that very much wants to take So-Yi's advice, "You need to take the warden's office, now. I'll get the cells."
Neither of them seem happy about it, but they comply. Jesse hands you the card before So-Yi leads her and the other prisoners in a charge towards the warden's office. You turn to move down the hall, opening cells, signing for prisoners to join them. Reassuring the injured. Helping the weak. You've finished the hall, and have turned to find more prisoners when you see Malcolm standing transfixed where you left him.
He's staring at the torturer's corpse, utterly paralyzed. His pistol has fallen from his fingertips, and you slowly, gingerly bend down to grab it as he watches.
Malcolm meets your gaze with horrified eyes and hurried breath. His hands, his whole body, quivers with fear as he waits for the gunshot. Waits for the consequences he knows must come
You hand him back his pistol.
"You've saved a lot of lives, and done a great thing," you sign, "And you don't have to kill again if you don't want to. But if you want the life I promised you, we need to get out of here."
*
"Jesse, you said you recognize the assailants?" you sign. You're in Life Support, which you've turned into an impromptu briefing room. Half a dozen prisoners join you: So-Yi and two other Kipling crew, Jesse, a corporate shuttle pilot named Taufik, and a pirate infosec specialist who insists upon being referred to solely as Dong Zhou.
The revolt has gone rather well. You punched out of the cells, killed the Warden and his goons, overran one of the barracks, life support, the engine, and an armory, but the frontmost third of the ship was locked down by the time you reached it. Blast doors sealed, archways turned into killboxes to keep you away from the hangar and the bridge, and the jump cut early in the desperate hope of rescue.
You'd been working on an alternate form of egress when the new guys arrived. A single, large boarding shuttle escorted by a lithe warmech. They were still approaching, the mech engaging the prison barge's meager defenders while the shuttle beelined for the hangar but you couldn't exactly hail them. So the question became to let them fight on their own and exploit the resulting weakness, or risk it all to assist.
"They're my people," she confirms, and after a moment of blank glances from the Kipling crew, she clarifies, "Nahab. We're freedom fighters."
"They're insurrectionists," mutters Taufik, "Half the reason we're in this mess."
That earns him a glare from Jesse, a laugh from Dong Zhou, and a motion to shut up from you. The last quiets him. "Why do you fight? What do you have?" You sign.
"We protect people," says Jesse, "Cause no-one else does." Another snort from Dong Zhou, but Jesse continues unimpeded. "We don't have much, a couple of bases where they can't be found, some friendly habs that'll shelter us and pass us goods, a few ships. But we fight off pirates, hit Dabiq and corporate ships where we can."
You nod, then motion for Taufik to speak. "They're just pirates," says Taufik, "They disrupt corporate operations, are in open rebellion against the Terran Sphere, and are opposed to the basic tenets of colonial society."
"The basis of colonial-" You glare at Jesse, and she shuts up.
"Don't misunderstand me," continues Taufik, "I appreciate that they found us before a Dabiq patrol did, but tying ourselves to them would be a mistake. If they punch through, great, they can take theirs and leave. But we shouldn't tie our fortunes to them."
You nod, and look to Dong Zhou. He shrugs. "They're principled people in a Terran galaxy," he says simply, "No organization, little leadership, lotta hope. They'll be fucked in a year or two. Another group of pirates in three." There's something in his tone you like, a wistfulness, a poor memory dredged up. Experience, perhaps.
It only takes you a moment to make your decision. You can organize a rabble, serve as leadership, but you've spent your entire career, your entire life, waiting for this opportunity. If they turn out to be unworthy, well, you'll make them worthy. "They're good enough," you sign calmly, "Let's lend them a hand."
*
The battle had been brutal but, once you arrived, short. The Shield had been sandwiched between the boarding party and your escapees, chokepoints and defensive preparations counting for little once they'd been outmaneuvered. It's the closest you've ever been to a proper battle, the most real the immediate impact of the carnage has ever gotten. The stench of corpses, the distant din of weapons fire as your people take the bridge, sensors, the remaining corridors of the ship, the cries of the wounded and the dying.
You are used to a more detached scene. Interviewing survivors days, months later. Watching mechs duel in the far distance, or your shuttle pilot tell you the situation as you weave through some spaceborne skirmish.
You step gingerly over a corpse, towards the Nahab shuttle. It's a low, squat thing with a boarding ramp reminiscent of a frog's mouth. A pair of massive autocannons perch flank the ramp, both destroyed by weapon's fire. The Nahabi themselves are disorganized, tending to their wounded and trying to figure out their next steps, connect with Jesse and their contacts among the prisoners, even as yours sweep the ship.
You see Jesse and Malcolm speaking to a tall man with fiery hair and a young woman with one arm and scavenged armor. Malcolm carries a rifle, stained with someone else's blood, Jesse stands at ease, smiling for the first time since you've met her. You knock gently against a railing to get their attention, and Malcolm steps to your side to translate.
"Ambassador Ayubi, I'm told I must thank you for the assistance," starts the man. His voice is light and pleasant, but professional, and your heart clenches as you realize that it reminds you of Shahid. He reminds you of a professor rather than a bandit, but that isn't all that uncommon when sectors go downhill. "We can take any who want shelter, or to join us, and should be able to take off shortly."
"There's no need," you sign, "Tell your mech to land. We'll be delivering you the prison ship, if you can give us coordinates. Those uninterested will leave before we arrive."
All of the Nahab who heard you pause, turn, staring at you. "We wouldn't presume-" he starts, but you are in no mood to debate, so you interrupt him.
"Consider it a gift, sir," you sign, "A sign of goodwill, in the name of great things to come."
You've debated your plan for the refinery and, eventually, came up with a new plan. What is it?
Previous vote remains open
[ ] Hit and Run (.6x)
Lieutenant Singh politely revealed the only refinery they have under control. Dart in, rip open the defenders, take the goods, and leave. You can debate a more permanent solution once you have more crew.
Pros: Easy, short, fuel's no longer an issue, locals aren't associated with you
Cons: Local situation isn't resolved, reveals your identity, you won't be able to get all the other goodies available.
Supported by Oliveira
[ ] This Is a Sneaking Mission
You send in a shuttle with Li, Shorn, and a few marines to buy time. You hang on the outside of the shuttle and launch yourself into the civilian hab while you approach. Alex provides codes and live information. Li and Shorn recon and begin negotiations while stalling. You free the civilians and deal with the skeleton garrisons on the outer habitats. Once the civilians are out of harm's way, you attack and force the Shield to retreat.
Pros: Safest for local populace
Cons: Risky, getting to your mech will be difficult, escaping hostiles are inevitable, you have to trust Alex
Supported by Alex, who does not get a vote, and Doc Voeman.
[ ] We're the Goddamn Cavalry
Contact the civilian protestors. Introduce yourself, and coordinate. You assault the Shield's position, destroying their ships and Mechs. The locals muster their fighter craft and militia, pressuring the Shield and forcing a surrender on the main hab. The garrisons on the auxilliary habs will be offered a chance to surrender once the main force is felled.
Pros: You'll be able to coordinate with the locals more easily, easy to minimize escaping hostiles
Cons: Open battle in an inhabited colony complex, Locals are very openly tied to your cause.
Supported by Shorn
SirLagginton
Shadow Cabal Caerbannog Bun-Bun
- Location
- Arrrghhh
[X] We're the Goddamn Cavalry
Go big or home my dudes.
Go big or home my dudes.
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
I'm leery of potentially tying ourselves to a group like Nahab. More specifically, I worry thst doing so would be less in-character and more meta-gaming to get our character back together with his girlfriend.
That said, the fact Shorn supports it, mokes me wonder if I'm over-compensating.
That said, the fact Shorn supports it, mokes me wonder if I'm over-compensating.
Last edited:
- Location
- National Capital Region, USA
[X] We're the Goddamn Cavalry
Sneaking in is both risky and makes 'escaping hostiles are inevitable'. That means the opposition anywhere else knows we're alive and at large in the Midgard Serpent, which, not to put to fine a point on it, is held together with spit, tape, and prayer. It cannot take a real fight with an enemy actively hunting us. Note, that's all assuming our attack succeeds and we get away, too. Too many risks, and a guaranteed complication later? No sneaking.
A Raid is almost the same thing: We leave the enemy intact enough to spread word of our location and status, which leads to us being hunted harder than we already are in a ship that can barely fly. Worse, it cuts us off from easy access to the supplies we vitally need to keep moving and fighting. So no raid.
Going in hard and hot is tough, but we have surprise on our side, and the garrison doesn't know how badly shot-up the MS is. We get a grateful set of locals, supplies for the ship, and no hostiles with info on us escaping. So Cavalry it is
Sneaking in is both risky and makes 'escaping hostiles are inevitable'. That means the opposition anywhere else knows we're alive and at large in the Midgard Serpent, which, not to put to fine a point on it, is held together with spit, tape, and prayer. It cannot take a real fight with an enemy actively hunting us. Note, that's all assuming our attack succeeds and we get away, too. Too many risks, and a guaranteed complication later? No sneaking.
A Raid is almost the same thing: We leave the enemy intact enough to spread word of our location and status, which leads to us being hunted harder than we already are in a ship that can barely fly. Worse, it cuts us off from easy access to the supplies we vitally need to keep moving and fighting. So no raid.
Going in hard and hot is tough, but we have surprise on our side, and the garrison doesn't know how badly shot-up the MS is. We get a grateful set of locals, supplies for the ship, and no hostiles with info on us escaping. So Cavalry it is
Whiskey Golf
Being of Editing & Technical Assistance
- Location
- Chained to my desk
[X] We're the Goddamn Cavalry
Yeah, I think this is the time to go big and go hard.
Yeah, I think this is the time to go big and go hard.
- Location
- Somewhere over the rainbow
Tithed_Verse
Vainglorious
- Location
- Iowa
- Pronouns
- They/Them
[X] We're the Goddamn Cavalry
Tithed_Verse
Vainglorious
- Location
- Iowa
- Pronouns
- They/Them
@Havocfett I had a few questions about your setting, if that's alright.
One question is, when praying to Mecca, do they just face towards earth, or are they more specific? Do they align the ship so that it's always possible to face Mecca at the right time, or are the floors a hodgepodge of different directions of 'down' so you can always find a way to face Mecca? Since there's, uh, three dimensions that Mecca could be aligned by.
Has there been developed a form of Salat that can be performed in zero gravity? The first Muslim astronaut has already entered space.
You imply in the setting that the main character is indebted to his corporate overlords, though I don't see you actually stating that. If that's so, do they engage in Islam profit sharing? Does the main character feel shame about being used to enforce Riga, or do the colonies profit share instead of paying interest?
I'm just curious because I've been living in a majority Muslim neighborhood for the past 2 years, and as an atheist I've been learning a lot.
One question is, when praying to Mecca, do they just face towards earth, or are they more specific? Do they align the ship so that it's always possible to face Mecca at the right time, or are the floors a hodgepodge of different directions of 'down' so you can always find a way to face Mecca? Since there's, uh, three dimensions that Mecca could be aligned by.
Has there been developed a form of Salat that can be performed in zero gravity? The first Muslim astronaut has already entered space.
You imply in the setting that the main character is indebted to his corporate overlords, though I don't see you actually stating that. If that's so, do they engage in Islam profit sharing? Does the main character feel shame about being used to enforce Riga, or do the colonies profit share instead of paying interest?
I'm just curious because I've been living in a majority Muslim neighborhood for the past 2 years, and as an atheist I've been learning a lot.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
'towards earth, when possible'. Depending on how expensive a masjid is the Qiblah ranges from 'as close as you can reasonably get' to 'adjustable gravity' to 'the floor shifts to point the right way'. Currently it's very much 'figure out as close as you can get' simply because the Midgard Serpent is heavily damaged and was relatively low tech anyways.
Yes, but artificial gravity has been a thing for a few hundred years so it doesn't get used much.
The colonies are owned by the corporate overlords rather than indebted to them, it's more east india company than student loans. They monetize raw materials and most/all industrial production out of the homeworlds themselves, including genetic information for all clones. Shahid and Amina both have significant issues, some religious, with the system they've been part of since birth, but Riba isn't really part of what they deal with.