Post by Insano-Man on Sept 24, 2018 9:56:39 GMT -5
Such is Life
The beginnings of Melgenyavik are to be found at least thirty years ago, when the Timosi Republic colonized the world in 2168 A.F. In contrast to its modern state, Melgenyavik would prove to be a famous success for the ever-growing Anchorage nation, rising in favor as its extensive and thorough terraforming program made the planet's inhospitable, dust-swept wastelands into a world capable of not merely sustaining life, but allowing it to flourish.
This success, however, would unfortunately not last. While the terraforming work had succeeded in making the world livable, there would be little its Timosi caretakers could do as Melgenyavik entered the second half of its orbital path, placing it further from its parent star and chilling the planet to the breaking point. Transplanted flora suffered greatly as the cold season set in and forced much of the civilian population to evacuate. Many claim this to be an outrageous oversight by those tasked with supervising the planet's colonization, but few understand that the shift in temperature had been the greatest the planet had seen since it had first been selected as a candidate for the work expended into it.
This would not be the last blow Melgenyavik suffered, either. The disaster would dawn just months before the outbreak of the Timosi War 2185 A.F., as the token garrison of 2,500 soldiers would find itself starved, reinforced, and starved again as the Garrant Commonwealth's navy harassed the planet. Filed down to 2,300 from scattered orbital strikes and attrition to the worsening cold weather, the garrison would be evacuated just a year into the war in February of 2186 A.F. following the fall of Tivovnik and the increasingly desperate situation of the Independent Strategic Alliance. The few left behind on the planet were transients and those civilians that had stayed of their own free will.
Even in 2200 A.F., when the planet finally returned to its warm season as it rounded its parent star of Golvani, there would be little interest in settling Melgenyavik a second time. With the Timosi Republic still struggling through its reparations after losing the war and their former allies in the Verinen lashing out in sporadic raids at their border worlds, it is not difficult to see why.
However, even as the war raged and the planet became a cold, desert wasteland as it had been before, its allure to pirates and deserters alike would prove to be strong. As time passed, the appeal only grew stronger, becoming a hub for those outside or outcast from society.
Melgenyavik would prove to be more than just a hub for nomads and black market traders as 2200 became 2201. Seeking testbeds for their ever-expanding weapons research programs, the Verinen Regentic saw fit to use the planet almost literally as a bullseye for orbital bombardment artillery and more exotic, yet unseen ordinance. The result is a world pounded into unrecognizability, almost alien features dotting its once earthly appearance.
While few of the sizable population of drifters and so-called wastelanders can truly describe the effects of this experimentation, the fact remains that these hardy individuals have not only learned to survive under the constant threat of orbital bombardment, but thrive, even as the environmental hazards left by weapons tests slowly creep across the landscape. Almost in defiance of the harshness of their existence, many of those that live on Melgenyavik swear false allegiance to the Verinen. While it would seem dark sarcasm, it is in fact an extensive ruse made into a cultural phenomenon. Even the same thugs and pirates that prey on scavengers and merchants will often recite the same oath to the Permanos Regentic, originally conceived in an attempt to ward off a possible future Timosi reclamation effort. The meaning today has been partly lost as those perpetrating the ruse have forgotten or misremembered it, yet its effect on the culture of the Melgenyavik is pervasive, powerful, and, in some cases, unifying.
The beginnings of Melgenyavik are to be found at least thirty years ago, when the Timosi Republic colonized the world in 2168 A.F. In contrast to its modern state, Melgenyavik would prove to be a famous success for the ever-growing Anchorage nation, rising in favor as its extensive and thorough terraforming program made the planet's inhospitable, dust-swept wastelands into a world capable of not merely sustaining life, but allowing it to flourish.
This success, however, would unfortunately not last. While the terraforming work had succeeded in making the world livable, there would be little its Timosi caretakers could do as Melgenyavik entered the second half of its orbital path, placing it further from its parent star and chilling the planet to the breaking point. Transplanted flora suffered greatly as the cold season set in and forced much of the civilian population to evacuate. Many claim this to be an outrageous oversight by those tasked with supervising the planet's colonization, but few understand that the shift in temperature had been the greatest the planet had seen since it had first been selected as a candidate for the work expended into it.
This would not be the last blow Melgenyavik suffered, either. The disaster would dawn just months before the outbreak of the Timosi War 2185 A.F., as the token garrison of 2,500 soldiers would find itself starved, reinforced, and starved again as the Garrant Commonwealth's navy harassed the planet. Filed down to 2,300 from scattered orbital strikes and attrition to the worsening cold weather, the garrison would be evacuated just a year into the war in February of 2186 A.F. following the fall of Tivovnik and the increasingly desperate situation of the Independent Strategic Alliance. The few left behind on the planet were transients and those civilians that had stayed of their own free will.
Even in 2200 A.F., when the planet finally returned to its warm season as it rounded its parent star of Golvani, there would be little interest in settling Melgenyavik a second time. With the Timosi Republic still struggling through its reparations after losing the war and their former allies in the Verinen lashing out in sporadic raids at their border worlds, it is not difficult to see why.
However, even as the war raged and the planet became a cold, desert wasteland as it had been before, its allure to pirates and deserters alike would prove to be strong. As time passed, the appeal only grew stronger, becoming a hub for those outside or outcast from society.
Melgenyavik would prove to be more than just a hub for nomads and black market traders as 2200 became 2201. Seeking testbeds for their ever-expanding weapons research programs, the Verinen Regentic saw fit to use the planet almost literally as a bullseye for orbital bombardment artillery and more exotic, yet unseen ordinance. The result is a world pounded into unrecognizability, almost alien features dotting its once earthly appearance.
While few of the sizable population of drifters and so-called wastelanders can truly describe the effects of this experimentation, the fact remains that these hardy individuals have not only learned to survive under the constant threat of orbital bombardment, but thrive, even as the environmental hazards left by weapons tests slowly creep across the landscape. Almost in defiance of the harshness of their existence, many of those that live on Melgenyavik swear false allegiance to the Verinen. While it would seem dark sarcasm, it is in fact an extensive ruse made into a cultural phenomenon. Even the same thugs and pirates that prey on scavengers and merchants will often recite the same oath to the Permanos Regentic, originally conceived in an attempt to ward off a possible future Timosi reclamation effort. The meaning today has been partly lost as those perpetrating the ruse have forgotten or misremembered it, yet its effect on the culture of the Melgenyavik is pervasive, powerful, and, in some cases, unifying.
