Chainchat Log

02 DECEMBER 2556 A.D.

Security De-Activated: 01 JAN 2600 A.D.

-Cutoff-

[Editor Note: Chainchat excerpt inserted in reverse chronological order for narrative purposes.]

Vkal: How many starpods are ready for Destination Day?

Jgjacobs: 312

Vkal: we need more – I thought you understood the requirements

Kayla5T: each reclaimer will have enough starpods to support long-duration missions in the first two years

Vkal: that’s hardly six per [Reclaimer]

Jgjacobs: I know

Jgjacobs: we’re having issues sourcing the fabricators

Jgjacobs: the ones from dreamtank

Vkal: I can reach out

Jgjacobs: apparently their supply of copper and cobalt from the Belt was “disrupted”

Vkal: disrupted?

Jgjacobs: that’s all they said

Kayla5T: there’s a workaround sir

Kayla5T: dreamtank is going to send fabricators to New Rome for launch

Kayla5T: they will still arrive for their reclaimer. Any fabricators destined for Saturn or Uranus will launch from there

Vkal: Ok

Jgjacobs: everything else will be ready end of february

Vkal: I want a full run-through of destination day’s itinerary one month out

Vkal: thanks

Jgjacobs: we will be ready (mostly)

Jgjacobs: recommend you reach out to dreamtank about the disruption. They will be eager for your ear

Vkal: ok

03 MAR 2556 A.D.

Location: Hydro Hotel, Infinity, Luna

Infinity is one of the oldest human settlements on Luna and the city recently built its newest terminal adjacent to a transparent dome that covers archaeological sites from the 21st century. As visitors exit their craft, a large glass encasement protects some lunar rovers and temporary habits 3D printed from the late Artemis program. Some tools and raw material inputs can be seen scattered outside the centuries-old habitats. The items inside the encasement were at the cutting edge of Earth technology in the mid-21st century, yet it looks primitive today flanked by the ever-growing network of tunnels and buildings of Infinity. Just slightly off the rim of the main crater, Cabeus B has always been the center of hydrogen extraction in the southern region with Infinity being the main hub of economic activity inside Cabeus B. Infinity is technically independent of all Earth governments, but it has always been considered to be within the American orbit of influence. I think The Stars and Stripes is the only Earth flag I noticed inside Infinity’s main atrium this morning.

A large audience gathered outside the terminal and cheered as each of the Reclaimers exited the processing area. Our links were each uploaded with Infinity primary keys – software exclusive to Infinity residents that allows holders to access all public spaces and resources. It felt like a dream. The highly anticipated moment that has long laid on the horizon of the future is now near – Reclaimer is almost official.

We were all shuttled via Network B to Infinity’s newest hotel, Hydro. Prior to boarding the monorail, I noticed the bustle of security personnel. Many of them were armed.

“Did you notice the rail guns as we approached?” asked Piotr as we sat down on the monorail.

“Yeah,” I said, there were three Hyper Range Cannons. “Is that normal?”

“They weren’t here two years ago when I visited with my brother.” He gave me a nod as if hinting that I should watch myself.

The Directorate was obviously concerned that the first official, off-Earth gathering of all Reclaimers was a soft target. Who is looking to hurt us? I am not quite sure.

With my link, I did a quick scan of all the individuals I came into proximity with since landing at Infinity. I came within 10 feet of over 350 people and identified 98% of them: Reclaimers, directorate personnel, Infinity tradesmen, children. There wasn’t a single name or individual out of place. The remaining 2% weren’t properly identified though their potential identities as presented did not seem suspicious. So why the security? I was not sure.

Just a few more hours until the Destinations conference. Going to get some rest. The room here is nice, its warm and feels relatively cozy.

03 MAR 2556 A.D.

Location: SPIRIT OF LONDON, Transit to Infinity, Luna

When I finally came around, a feeling of warmth blanketed me.

“Alex,” a voice echoed. I discovered myself in a daze as I sat up in bed. I rubbed my eyes and realized there were four large screens in front of me. Two of the screens appeared to be displaying my vitals.

“Can you hear me, Alex?” inquired the older man in the room. “I’m Dr. Ian Brock.”

“Where’s Lyla?” I asked.

“You can rest, Alex. Lyla was rescued after your distress call,” explained the Doctor. “You are both very lucky to be alive…no doubt thanks to your efforts.”

A female doctor with short blonde hair stepped up from behind Dr. Brock. I remember she gently put her hand on my shin. “I’m Dr. Watts - I’m in charge of linking and augmentation for Reclaimer. We understand you’re probably very tired right now, but we need to have a quick chat while you’re still lucid.

“You mentioned you were in the water,” Dr. Watts said. “Is that the last thing you remember?”

I hesitated as I struggled to recall where I was last.

Dr. Watts then reiterated her question, “You’ve been out for nearly three weeks. Is the last thing you remember the water?”

Three weeks? I found it hard to believe I had been in bed for three weeks, but then flashes of memory started to crawl into my consciousness: teams of doctors, surgery drones, incredible streaks of light. It felt as if I was in a dream where all the thoughts I’ve ever had or places I’ve seen were molded and mixed into a single sensation. Then it was stillness as I remembered my yoke from Uncle El. My Uncle El had disappeared and likely died years ago, but I had just dreamed he had been alive. It felt so real.

 “No, the last thing I remember was a memory from when I was nine years old. I remember the water, the crash – but I felt like I just relived an event in my past…just moments ago,” I explained trying not to sound crazy.

The doctors in the room all smiled, a few of them quietly celebrated and congratulated each other.

Dr. Brock spoke again, “You felt as if you were reliving a memory?”

“Yes.”

I noticed my name up on the top right display above my heart and blood vitals. It said RECLAIMER next to my name. Strange, I thought.

“Alex, the damage to your brain and body from the accident was severe. You probably didn’t realize it at the time because of adrenaline and the stimulants your tempsuit activated while you were in distress. There was little that could be done to save your life that wouldn’t make you ineligible according to the Reclaimer Program’s restrictions.” My first thought was that this was the end of the line for me. I’d be celebrated for my efforts, then kicked out.

I probably would’ve been much more upset that Dr. Brock was implying I had been removed from the training pipeline had it not been for the total exhaustion sweeping over me.

“With that being said, Mr. Kalis and the directors were fascinated with your efforts over Johnson Atoll and requested a complete de-briefing on your performance in the program thus far. It goes without saying, they were impressed,” Dr. Brock relayed with a half-smile. “You should all be dead. Lyla and Drex are alive because of you.”

“Ahmed, Ken, and Tyler are dead,” I explained. I could hear his screams as I said the latter’s name.

“With the diagnostics and footage from inside the Eagle, you should all be dead,” a deep Texan voice emerged from the back of the room. “In simulated models of the event, you all die 92% of the time.” The iron-like stature of Victor Kalis, the Director of Reclaimer, came forward. It was only the third time I had seen him, but all the candidates knew who he was. Nearly 6’5” with silver-peppered hair, Director Kalis’ physical stature was like something you’d expect a Reclaimer to look like. Not only was he the director of the entire program, but he also reportedly personally funded all provisions for the program’s first six years. Every tempsuit, OBS, food packet, fuel, battery, weapon, printable, and machine needed by the Reclaimers would be paid for by Kalis’ deep pockets.

I stared at him as he approached the bed. I wasn’t awestruck, I had just become too tired to react. I noticed that I had two thin scars along my right forearm.

“You decided to cheat death and save your friends,” Kalis stated. The doctors in the room were smiling. He outstretched his hand toward mine. He was surprisingly gentle as he shook my hand.

“Nice to see you again, sir,” I responded to him. He then told me that I was the type of man he wanted out in the void. Our conversation lasted about three minutes as he asked me about the accident, requested some details about the Eagle’s mid-flight failure. The Director largely just nodded and appeared to be ingesting everything I had said. He then shook my hand and told me regretfully he had to go to another engagement with the Japanese delegation.

“When you’re well and proper, you and I will have another chat. Get some rest, Reclaimer.”

The other doctors and individuals in the room gave a quiet round of applause, but I wanted to tear my ears from my skull. Why was it so loud, I thought? Noticing I was in distress, Dr. Watts approached my bed to comfort me. What did they do to me? She gently motioned for the room to calm down and asked everybody except Dr. Brock to leave. As the last member left, she placed a small metallic cube on the table.

“This will allow me to interface with your new links,” she said. “Your dire situation did not leave us much of a choice. We had every protocol available on Earth to treat you, but we were dealing with a limited window to save your life. The team at CWR was available so we moved in an unexpected direction. You’ve been linked with Chariot-3.”

At the time, I didn’t know anything about Chariot-3. Though, I knew Chicago Wetware & Robotics, more commonly known as CWR, was responsible for linking shock troops of the UAR Space Force. Dr. Watts tapped the metallic cube on the table and a hologram control panel emerged. She adjusted a white dial in the hologram.

As she did that many dormant thoughts became active in my head as the Chariot-3 device stimulated the neurons in my frontal lobe. I began to sense the electricity currents in the walls, I felt interfaced with every device in the room as if my thoughts could speak with them. All this happened simultaneously with absolute clarity. Dr. Watts smiled as she saw my eyes widen.

“Do you feel it?” she asked.

I can’t explain how. But I knew I could do it. I shut it off. The four screens behind Dr. Watts went dark.

A quiet befell the room. “It’s very intuitive, isn’t it? When you’re rested, we will show you to shut down or manipulate much more than that.”

“You mean like the hospital?”

Dr. Watts paused. She looked around and noticed the sound of Medbots and the quiet beeps of vital signs had ceased coming from the hallway. The noise of people shuffling around seemed to echo more clearly. The doctor looked at me with a puzzled look on her face.

“You shut down everything…”

I returned a smile.

“I see you learn fast. That’s good – you’re going to need those skills out there,” she said, pointing out the window.

The Home Systems had rolled back years of cybernetic and neurological integration. Since the Nethymian conflict, the Home Systems attempted to redefine what it meant to be human. Between the 22nd and 23rd centuries, humanity had replaced its flesh with machine and in doing so may have removed man’s inclination for simple virtues like compassion, humility, and kindness and replaced it with cold calculations and precision. Decision-making born from a lifetime of experience was replaced by optimized, custom outcomes made by lifeless computations. Humanity eventually realized the risk of being imperfectly human was a superior way of life.

It has been nearly a year since I woke up from the crash at the atoll. As the rest of the Reclaimer candidates continued their training, I was mainly locked in a room at CWR learning my cybernetic toolbox and testing new OBS craft for the Directorate. Despite all that idle time in Chicago and Reclaimer training centers, Mr. Kalis never followed up about that supposed conversation we were supposed to have. Our paths even crossed a few times at the Texas headquarters. He always seemed to act indifferent to his suggestion that we would have a private conversation after I recovered from the hospital visit. Kalis never said anything – until today. A blue notification emerged in my HUD. It was an invite from Dr. Kalis to meet at the Trench Aquarium.

“We’re approaching,” said Drex leaning into the porthole. “It’s a lot smoother landing when you’re not the pilot, by the way.”

I looked at Drex. A large smile draped across his face. Since the incident last year, Drex and I have kept in touch. He made a quicker recovery than I did so he returned to the hospital several times to visit.

I informed Drex that Dr. Kalis finally reached out.

“What does he want?”

“It doesn’t say,” I replied. “I’m supposed to meet him at the Trench.”

Drex looked up as if he was thinking. “That’s far from here.”

The intercom announced we were approaching Infinity, one of Luna’s largest cities, and the site of the official launch of the Reclaimer voyage.

I sat back in the leather seat and attempted to enjoy the last few moments of calm. Allison Andersen and Piotr Nowak in the seats beside me appeared to be doing the same. Over the next ten years, there will (of course) be moments of tranquility and peace, but I hope those times are few and far between.

We could feel the thrusters on SPIRIT OF LONDON ignite as we closed in on the terminal.

The three of us (my Dad, Uncle Ellison, and me) were sitting at a tiki café overlooking launch area number three of the Magellan Spaceport, a floating city primarily used as a transshipment point of finished luxury goods from Luna-2. My Dad had booked us a room at the spaceport’s hotel so we could visit with his brother. My uncle didn’t usually come back to Earth and when he did, he rarely ventured beyond the spaceport he arrived at. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Earth, he just preferred to be out in the void. Uncle El treated his whole life as a journey with no destination. He thought that any time he was still, as in on the ground whether that be on Luna, Mars or Earth, his journey was at a standstill.

Uncle El smiled as I examined the device and told me it was called a yoke. According to him, they were manufactured on an orbital platform above New Rome. The yoke reflected the beaming sun into my eyes as I ran my hands over it. I remember hearing the roaring crackle of two reactor engines launching in the distance as I tapped on the yoke.

“Do you know what it does?” he asked. My Uncle Ellison was a large man, and his beard made him look like he was born in the 19th century. At least it was always neatly trimmed.

I shook my head and looked up at him and my dad.

“Alex, your uncle brought you a very special gift,” my dad said.

I’d seen a yoke before on a fictional vex. It was on the Taz and Yaro Show, a kid’s program about two teens trying to find fossils on Pluto (they never found any). While physically on Pluto or Charon, Taz would chat with his girlfriend Veronica, who lived on Luna-2, with a yoke.

“Each yoke is paired on the production line with exactly one other yoke. They are intertwined together by quantum entanglement. What one yoke experiences so will the other,” elaborated Ellison. “Stick that in a pile of regolith or rub it against a rocky cliff face on an asteroid, the yoke will send me its chemistry. Grasp it in your hand like this.” He clutched it with his right hand centering the yoke on his palm, “And now I can see your heartbeat.” Uncle El proceeded to show me several other features of the yoke. It had duplex quantum communication, and he showed me how to activate the voice comms feature.

“Don’t ever let anybody take this from you; it’s yours. The good thing is: even if somebody took it from you now, it wouldn’t matter. When you first touched it, it identified your unique genetic code and will only work in your presence so when I’m on Callisto this summer and you clutch it, I’ll know it is you and only you.

“One day, you’re going to explore the void, and I’m going to come back here with your Dad and Mom. As I finally enjoy the luxury of warm air and sunshine on my face, I’ll be able to follow your adventures out there in the cold darkness.” I didn’t know what was more difficult for me to accept: my uncle saying he would be living on Earth or that I was just gifted one of the most sought-after gadgets in Solis. Elisson removed his yoke from his back pocket; it was equally stunning. His yoke had a gold triangle seamlessly blended into the silver.

I looked down at my yoke again as it vibrated with my uncle’s heartbeat. It was as if I was holding the sorcerer’s stone or a magical device from Asgard.

My dad moved his chair over to mine, “Pretty awesome, right?”

Despite the golden sunshine warming the café, a sudden chill fell over me.

“Dad, I’m cold. Can we go?” I felt a shiver run through my arms and legs.

“Huh, that’s strange,” uttered my uncle. “This can’t be right.” Elisson flashed his yoke’s now-activated display. Gray and blue blocks were combining. I peeked closer at his yoke and it was visually depicting hydrogen and oxygen.

A heaviness shifted over me. I looked at my father and said, “I’m in the water, aren’t I?”

“It will be over soon,” my Dad replied.

“Alex,” interjected Ellison. “I’m here.”

The yoke vibrated incessantly.

My head and limbs felt as if they were forged of iron. I was sunken into cotton sheets. I forced my eyes open; they both felt as if I had little pins poking them. After bringing the room into focus, I noticed there was a sophisticated-looking group of individuals that looked like doctors in white coats crammed next to my bed. I was in a hospital. I had never seen so many medical professionals in one place before. I remember my mother crying as the doctor walked into her room to deliver a terminal prognosis – the lady didn’t even need to speak. The fact that a human, and not a robot, was there to deliver the news said enough. Now, here I was staring at a room full of doctors. Although I didn’t feel like it, I thought I must be dying.

At least I made it out of the ocean.

Starchain: Hammer, Alexander

11 JUN 2555 A.D.

Location: St. Brendan Hospital, Johnston Atoll, United American Republic, Earth

According to eyewitness and starchain reporting, an explosion occurred mid-air at Johnson Atoll. Initial reports indicate two of the Eagles, the prototype orbital breaching system of the Reclaimer Program, may have collided during boosted ascents.

There has been no official comment from the Reclaimer Program Directorate (RDP). An anonymous source inside Reclaimer reports that at least five Reclaimer candidates are dead.

Images of a fireball started streaming across the starchain shortly after the scheduled launch time of the final Eagle. The Flex obtained a copy of the day's flight manifest. According to the official RDP document, the Reclaimer candidates aboard the final two launches include: Lyla Jericho, Ken Taka, Alexander Hammer, Tyler Costello, Drex Hammond, Jessica Driscoll, Li Yan, Nowak Piotr, Carl Tusk, and Shav Karimov.

Communications from the atoll appear to have been jammed following the initial starchain reports.

The Flex confirms that at least 18 of the Eagles arrive at Duke's Crossing in the Malapert Mountains, Luna.

A Perfect Day

The day started like any other on Johnston Atoll: beautiful skies and hot with a cool breeze. The centuries-old spaceport's activity launched and landed as planned. A fleet of shiny new prototype orbital breachers, called Eagles, were lined up just south of the main launch platforms. Tourists were piling into the viewing galleries as final maintenance checks were being completed. It was a perfect day for the Reclaimer Program’s next milestone: self-navigation to Luna-2.

In this self-navigation mission, all intelligence systems would be de-activated. The Reclaimer candidates needed to utilize celestial navigation using guidance tools from a bygone. While having to rely on such tools throughout the Reclaimer program's duration, the RDP emphasized the mission is to build "vital skillsets" and demonstrate basic spacefaring.

It was supposed to be simple, at least that’s what I told myself as four successive shudders were felt on the stick. The Eagle’s display screens flickered as the auxiliary power failed to start. The stick remained unresponsive.

Lyla Jericho was to my right in the co-pilot’s chair. She asked, “are you seeing this?” As if I wouldn’t notice the entire craft losing power as we entered the stratosphere.

“Switch to spectrum,” I replied as I activated my HUD. At the time, I was only linked up to level one as the Reclaimer Program rejected candidates with cybernetic links higher than one. My personal cybernetics were nothing fancy, they were a gift from my dad when I turned 18. The best part about it was that I had my own personal HUD that required no additional wearables. It gave me geo-coordinates, my altitude on earth, and my personal biometrics such as my heart rate. My HUD also allowed me to interact with my prototype Reclaimer All-Terrain Multi-Environment Pressure Suits. We just referred to these as “tempsuits.”

“Hammer!” yelled Drex Hammond. He was sitting in the weapons officer pod, also known as the WSR (pronounced whizzer) beneath the main cabin. His 270-degree portholes gave him the best view in the house. Since it was a training exercise, there was no need for weapons, so his control console was mostly de-activated.

“Yes?”

“Why are we moving back towards the clouds?” Drex stated nonchalant.

A slight tug of gravity pitched the craft forward and down.

“Umm…Standby,” I replied. I always liked Drex. The system wasn’t doing its complete reboot as planned.

“Hammer, I have errors I’ve never seen before,” said Ken Taka sitting at the flight engineer console. Ken had considerable experience with DFD, direct fusion drives, so the statement caught me off guard.

I quickly tried to toggle some controls and got no response from the Eagle.

“Crosswind this is Red Gamma, we have a catastrophic loss of power, over.”

Silence. I tried again. “Crosswind this is Red Gamma, over.”

I caught a glimpse of the horizon – a thin line of yellow fire peeked over the bluish haze.

“Hammer, what’s going on,” Tyler Costello’s voice came over the comms. He was the navigator for the mission and was plotting our trip to Luna-2. We were practicing to fly with no auto-guidance or autopilot.

Our descent accelerated. Six lives onboard, I told myself. The control screens stopped flickering and finally turned on.

The altimeter started to decrease gradually, then suddenly. “Alex, the engines have shut off…” Lyla’s voice sounded panicked. I noticed that the reactor diagram on the console displayed that both Alpha and Bravo Engine had completely shut off.

“That’s not supposed to happen,” I said.

Ahmed Saar, the Reclaimer Program’s liaison training officer, was sitting behind Tyler at the engineering console. “Cycle a reboot immediately.”

I reached under the console and moved the small red switch. Nothing happened. I flipped it again. Nothing.

I told Ahmed that the reboot was ineffective.

“Release the emergency braking chutes,” he replied.

I broke the glass and prepared to press the PARACHUTE BRAKE button.

“Press it.”

With a tactile click, I pressed the button. I pressed it again. An error buzzer started sounding.

“That’s impossible…they are analog…” said Ahmed.

“Parachutes are not released!” yelled Tyler nervously.

“…That’s not supposed to happen,” Ahmed sounded confused.

The Eagle OBS was just a prototype, yet something seemed oddly wrong. Cascading, unrelated failures throughout the system were as Ahmed said…not supposed to happen.

40 kilometers.

“Alex, what are we going to do?” Lyla asked.

I needed to get us down. I knew the Eagle was engineered for many different types of collisions, such as impacts with asteroids or ice. The voidcraft’s hull would probably be fine yet no amount of nano-engineering could prevent us from dripping off the bulkheads after impact.

36 kilometers.

I started to feel as if I was being choked by gravity.

30 kilometers.

“Drex, open all the weapons doors.” We needed to create drag.

Two large mechanical clicking sounds could be heard. Thank God those controls were analog.

The craft slightly bounced as it caught the air. “Doors open.” Drex sounded slightly winded.

“Crosswind, this is Red Gamma, over,” I managed to say as the increasing strain of G-forces could be felt on my lungs

“Red Gamma, this is Crosswind,” Deputy Program Director April Lee came over the net. “Why are you returning to the launch site?”

“Crosswind, Red Gamma. We have a catastrophic loss of power. Request Goalkeeper immediately over.” Goalkeeper was a hypersonic Low Earth Orbit (LEO) retrieval platform originally designed for intercepting hazardous satellites or illicit craft as they re-entered Earth’s atmosphere. Goalkeeper utilized an advanced sensor network to identify craft in launch or descent. We needed Goalkeeper to match our descent speed. Once Goalkeeper attained our course and speed, it would be able to latch onto the Eagle and gently slow the Eagle’s speed.

The radio was silent for a few moments, “Copy, we see the issue up here. Standby.”

29 kilometers. Tyler started screaming in his seat.

“Goalkeeper away.”

Lyla let out a sigh of relief.

28 kilometers. I acknowledged the overheat warning on the weapons module and ordered Drex to shut the blast covers.

I released the craft’s retracted aft delta wings. The stick shuddered.

“I’ve regained some control.” I started to roll the craft.

Gravity and fear had temporarily silenced my crewmates…except Tyler.

25 kilometers.

“Red Gamma, this is Crosswind. We copied your distress call. Goalkeeper unable to meet you at your current velocity. If possible, pitch your craft up towards the stars to slow descent with keel.”

“Copy.” I replied.

“Hammer!” exclaimed Ken Taka. “System reboot in 1 minute.”

“Increasing roll 5 degrees,” said Lyla as she re-assumed some control of the craft’s co-pilot stick.

22 kilometers.

“Red Gamma, this is Crosswind. If you don’t bleed more speed in less than 30 seconds, you’ll hit the deck with zero assistance from Goalkeeper.”

“Red Gamma, copies all.”

18 kilometers. All that we could see outside our windows was a thick orange haze as the atmosphere attempted to dissolve us.

13 kilometers. The craft wouldn’t pitch up any further and we were falling more like a 20th century space capsule instead of the somewhat controlled descent we were attempting.

“Alex, the depth in these waters…even if we do survive…” said Ahmed.

I told him we needed to prevent implosion before worrying about drowning.

At that moment, drowning was a secondary concern. However, depending on how we impacted the ocean, the Eagle’s sleek body almost assured us of a quick sprint toward the seafloor. However, the tactical yet thin and comfortable tempsuits we were wearing would hypothetically prevent us from drowning. Tempsuits could sustain all human life support needs for a minimum of six hours in some of Solis’ harshest environments such as Venetian mountain peaks or icy caverns on Europa. Surely, that included Earth’s own oceans.

10 kilometers.

Then we heard the comforting jingle of the system being rebooted. For a brief few seconds, it seemed like everything would be alright.

Lyla passed the bad news, “Alex, the engines aren’t igniting. Fusion restart failed.” She flipped two switches. “Thrusters activated.”

“That’s impossible!” I didn’t have time to acknowledge Ahmed.

Auxiliary power could only control the midships and bow thrusters. In the event of an emergency during docking procedures, the Eagle’s thrusters would still enable the craft to dock safely.

“Ken, transfer all non-critical auxiliary power to the mid-thrusters.” The cabin went dark as the touchpad controls dimmed. A rumble was felt as the thrusters fought to stabilize the descent speed. It wasn’t enough.

8 kilometers.

I pressed the parachute button again. Nothing.

The crew slightly panicked as Tyler started to scream violently and writhing in his seat. Drex kept speaking gently over the net trying to calm Tyler down.

“Red Gamma, this is Crosswind. I need you to immediately bring your pitch to match Goalkeeper. Inbound in 15 seconds.”

A yellow-black display box appeared on the corner of my main console. It was the Goalkeeper attempting to communicate with the Eagle. I tried to concentrate over Tyler’s screaming.

Lyla and I de-activated the forward thrusters. The lack of resistance immediately tossed the Eagle into a downward angle. It felt as if our descent speed doubled. The floor for Goalkeeper was an altitude of 1 km, it had to slow us down before we got there.

4 kilometers.

We were cutting it close. A green warning light flashed on my HUD.

I let out a sigh of relief as the main control console indicated there was an unidentified object within 30 meters of the Eagle – it was Goalkeeper. Lyla announced the Goalkeeper’s approach. Maybe we were going to make it. The craft began to hum as Goalkeeper’s magnetic coupling commenced.

3 kilometers.

The hum turned into a vibration. Lyla and I were intensely focused on manually controlling the mid-thrusters to keep the craft as stable as possible as Goalkeeper transitioned to the physical coupling process. Tyler’s screaming continued as Ken attempted to calm him down.

“Oh, God,” said Lyla as she turned around in her seat. That was the last thing I remembered aboard the Eagle.

Despite being masters of unmanned vehicles and synthetic intelligence, humanity had always preferred (despite the cost and advanced sciences required) a human in the seat. Cruising through the void was no different from a Wright brother gliding at Kitty Hawk, Neil Armstrong safely touching down the Apollo lander safely in the Sea of Tranquility, or E. Bruce Walker navigating The Belt to land on Ceres. We loved to be in the seat regardless of the lifeless robotics that were available. Not much had changed since the 20th century. Though, these adventures required us to have the ability to punch out, to eject. Today, a medium-sized voidcraft would usually have one small escape pod capable of bringing a lucky few to safe haven. However, almost all modern OBS, such as the Eagle, allow the entire crew a chance to escape.

The Eagle was programmed to de-activate the ejection system while running on auxiliary power. These safety locks gave the pilot and co-pilot control of the voidcraft and prevented the crew from inadvertently taking catastrophic actions in-flight – the pilot would choose when it was safe to abandon ship. Some of the other safety locks included the de-activation of manual operation of air locks and automating the cabin oxygen levels. As the Eagle cycled back power from Alpha Engine, the safety mechanism de-activated and control of the craft safety system shifted back to each individual crew member.

As Goalkeeper closed within 2 meters of us, the Eagle began to tremble violently.

Once he felt these new vibrations, Tyler must have thought the Eagle was about to rip apart. In a fit of panic, he stopped screaming and clamored for the ejection buckle.

The speed of the Eagle broke Tyler’s neck immediately as his head breached the overhead opening. Though, Tyler’s ejection wasn’t what doomed the Eagle. At a speed of nearly 100 miles per hour, Tyler’s lifeless mass sprung into Goalkeeper and caused our rescue vehicle to become unstable. The Goalkeeper’s onboard guidance system attempted to slow the wobble caused by Tyler’s impact, but the wobble increased until friction ripped apart, then the Goalkeeper imploded.

1 kilometer.

Goalkeeper’s implosion fractured its stainless-steel hull like a giant fragmentary grenade that spewed shrapnel into Tyler’s now-open ejection portal. Ken had his face ripped off and Ahmed’s body was punctured by shrapnel ping-ponging inside the command cabin. The blast itself caused the Eagle to roll over and barrel down towards the glass-like ocean.

2 meters below the sea.

I gasped for air as I came to. My tempsuit wasn’t torn and I could still breathe oxygen. My HUD reported my Med ID was inaccessible, so I didn’t know if anything was broken. The navigator’s cabin was already burbling with salt water and Lyla’s chair was empty. The ejection hatch above her seat remained closed so I assumed she escaped through one of the airlocks. I reached down for my ejector cable and felt it via the gloves’ haptics. As I tensed to pull the cable, a thought went through my head: if I blew open this hatch the cabin would finish flooding immediately and anybody left inside would drown.

3 meters below the sea.

The craft wasn’t sinking as fast as we anticipated. The main console displayed that all of the storage compartments and reactor room were sealed, likely providing just enough buoyancy to keep the Eagle from racing towards the bottom. The Eagle wasn’t designed to be a transmedium craft so it couldn’t propel itself out of the ocean even if the engine was working.

5 meters below the sea.

I detached from my seat. “Lyla, Drex, anybody copy?”

“Alex, you’ve gotta help me.” It was Drex. He said he was trapped in the WSR.

I swam into the main cabin. Unlike the navigation cabin, it was almost completely flooded because Tyler’s escape hatch was blown open. The sea was battling the remaining air pressure as it attempted to flood the craft. The Eagle’s onboard synthetic intelligence was probably trying to re-gain equilibrium in air pressure and injecting breathable gases into the main cabin. All the lights in the main cabin were still on so the water appeared a brilliant turquoise color. There was no sign of anybody else. Where was Lyla? The craft shifted slightly; I grabbed hold of a handlebar on the bulkhead. The craft was sinking.

12 meters below the sea.

It felt as if somebody was pinching my ear canal as the tempsuit wasn’t optimized for hydro-static squeeze. They were built for the open void; they weren’t meant for the increasing atmospheric pressure caused by rapid descent towards the ocean floor.

“Drex, I’m coming.” I swung around the ladderwell that led down to the WSR. Drex was still in his seat.

“Alex, I can’t get out. Can you cut me loose?” His three-strap belt was clamped down tightly on his tempsuit. He attempted to eject, but the system didn’t work. His hatch only de-pressurized and his seat still thought it was about to eject thus tightening his belt in place to prevent him from moving. Because of his location at the bottom of the craft, ejecting Drex would shoot him towards the seafloor.

18 meters.

Drex let out an inaudible grumble and grabbed at his helmet. The atmosphere at this depth wouldn’t kill us but the pain was distracting. He was clearly feeling it his nasal cavity and ear canal too. I needed to get us out of there. I grabbed the ladderwell and swung myself back up to the main cabin to grab the small axe mounted on the bulkhead. I was back in the WSR within 30 seconds.

20 meters.

With a gentle carve, the axe’s blade parted the strap around Drex’s waist. I repeated this with the strap securing his right shoulder. After the second strap fell away, I gently tugged him out of seat and he floated up.

“I owe you a bottle of mash,” he said with a whimper. Despite the pain ringing through our heads, we exchanged smiles.

“We need to get out of here. Now.”

My heartbeat was elevated to 140 bpm.

24 meters.

I thought the first time I would float in an Eagle would be above the atmosphere in zero gravity. Now, I was literally floating in ocean water inside the Eagle’s main cabin. The craft continued to sink. It was a bit harder to move through the cabin as there was drag on our suits and the water was pushing back on us. We used hand-over-hand movements to get back towards the blown hole in the main cabin.

Static noises pulsed in my earpiece. I ignored it.

30 meters. The main cabin was now completely flooded.

“Alex, when you get outside the Eagle. Flood your suit with oxygen. It should get you to the surface,” stated Drex. I queued up the suit command in my HUD.

“Got it,” I said and grabbed the ring of Tyler’s blown hatch.

36 meters.

“If they don’t pick us up quick, we survived a sub-orbital crash out just to die of the bends,” I joked as my helmet’s earpiece came to life.

A shout calling “Alex!” echoed in our helmets. It was Lyla. Drex and I both responded and told her we were coming to the surface. She didn’t reply. I pulled my feet clear of the craft; I didn’t need to get caught on the jagged edges caused by the explosion.

40 meters.

I tried equilibrizing my sinuses, but it was nearly impossible at this point without being able to plug my nose. I used my HUD to increase oxygen levels to maximum. I started to ascend.

36 meters.

30 meters.

Lyla’s voice broke through again, “Alex, Drex, anybody! Can you hear me? I’m locked in the research module. The airlock won’t open. Help!”

20 meters.

My nose started to bleed from the rapid decompression. I passed out right before I broke the surface with Lyla still shouting in my ear.

It is poetic that Hammer, like most explorers and great adventurers of humanity’s history, was a man of humble origins and he was born on Earth despite there being nearly three centuries of humans born ex-terra. His story and the journeys of 27 other Reclaimers were anxiously tracked and followed soliswide by audiences during the mid-2500s. Like the unsealing of an Egyptian tomb, it was the monumental re-discovery of his starchain that brought new life into a long dead story. His final resting place on Titan was excavated by a civilization that knew nothing but flourishing in the void. In fact, life and a safe existence in the void was taken for granted by the time Hammer’s remains were recovered.

Compared to our society today, the void during the Mars Infinitum Age (2520-2600 A.D.) was then a blank canvas to be expressed upon by the Reclaimers. Today, the term “Reclaimer” depicts a demographic group unique to a particular place and time in history like Spartan, Crusader, or Soviet. The program’s stewards, the Directorate, sought to restart mankind’s enthusiasm for adventure in the void. With enthusiasm, intersolis commerce and relations would follow. The end objective was the reuniting of Earth, Mars, and Jovis civilizations under a single banner: humanity. As we know nearly six centuries later, the program’s aims were ultimately effective. Yet the Reclaimers' ability to vibrate these outcomes across centuries could not have been predicted.

Better known today as The Void Diaries, The Void Diaries: The Journey of Alexander Hammer, Volume I, sits among the great literary discoveries of history. There are eight volumes of The Void Diaries (compiled between (2902 – 2922 A.D.) though it is Hammer’s story that is most frequently known by the abbreviated title, The Void Diaries.

Though some of Hammer’s starchain entries were unshielded and published during his life, most of his efforts throughout the void remained a mystery as seventy-eight percent of his starchain was shielded (Reclaimers were required to disclose a minimum of 20%). At the time of his death in 2567 A.D., Hammer’s celebrity was diminished by the overall ensemble story of the Reclaimer Program. His relatively low output of public starchain entries made him a less popular Reclaimer than some of his peers such as Ben Bo-Dari or Jax Kepler.

Stakeholders in Reclaimer thought there was little more that could be revealed by recovering Hammer’s remains or his voidcraft ARVID from the methane sea. After all, the mainstream success of the Reclaimers and growing list of void sites for exploitation and development shrunk the resources available to recover Hammer’s personal effects. As a result, there was no recovery mission dispatched to Titan and it would be many centuries before his life’s capstone events were known. To make matters worse, out of the 28 original Reclaimers, two had already died at the time of Hammer’s demise so his death too was muffled in the noise. The Reclaimer Program sought to steer itself away from negative news as it wanted to ride the public’s interest and be compatible with the societal rebirth that followed the Nethymian War. Revisiting Hammer's death would have counteracted that goal. It would be centuries before humanity would have the robotics, infrastructure, and colonization activity on Titan that made Hammer’s recovery a worthwhile endeavor. Hammer’s name and memory had long faded from public awareness when his remains and the ARVID were uncovered by a scientific diving expedition in 2889 A.D.

Hammer's Early Life

The Reclaimers were an ensemble cast of wholly unique characters. Kim Ji-Ho was the oldest Reclaimer at 46 years old and a descendant of Korean aristocracy. A 7th generation cattle rancher, Bryce Rogers, also enjoyed studying Venetian aerodynamics and gravity as a hobby. Reclaimer Jax Kepler was orphaned at nine years old and spent four years in prison prior to his entry in Reclaimer. An orbital shocktrooper, Lyla Jericho was an eight-year veteran of the Space Force. Gordon Fox III was the heir to the Zap Beverage Company. This pattern replicates itself across all 28 Reclaimers – they were all special in their own way.

Hammer’s background was on the tame end of the spectrum. As a young boy, Hammer accompanied his father Linus, a welder, to Paita Lift II (PLII) in Peru. It was in Peru that Linus introduced young Alex to miners, pilots, explorers, printers, and guardians. The Earth nation of Peru emerged as the epicenter of economic development during the Recovery Age and the perfect place to stimulate a young man’s mind towards the void.

The influence of his father and uncle inevitably fated him to his untimely death on a world of ice and darkness. At the PLII Ground Control Station, Alex would watch the hulking freighters and their swashbuckling crews return from the heavens with holds full of finished goods from Lunar-2, technometals stripped from asteroids, or synthetics marching into their next method of transport.

On his way home from work, Linus would buy young Alex exotic fruits synthesized in orbital greenhouses and toys printed from Martian regolith. In his adolescence, he spent one year with his uncle aboard a Venetian sub-orbital city and learned how to pilot Pegasus-class orbital breaching systems. Alex returned to Earth with an iron-willed determination to return to space and eventually venture into the void. To assist Alex in achieving his dreams, Linus would ask his friends of various trades to spread their wealth of knowledge with his son. Alex learned basic zero-gravity first aid, avionics, printing, and void barter – all skills that would suit him well in the Reclaimer Program.

The Origins of the Reclaimer Program: Extermination and Contraction

In their eyes, the plague of humanity was unworthy of its inevitable interstellar expansion. We were unworthy of ad astra.

In 2341 A.D., the Federation of Martian Colonies received reports about barbaric crimes on the Galilean moon Io. Even as of this writing, it is not exactly known who terrorized the Ionians. All evidence pointed towards geologists from Nethymia, a multi-planet industrial group owned by the ancient Seraphini family. A Federation investigation into the event revealed that the Nethymian geologists were in active communications with Nethymia’s headquarters. Those responsible for the murders were allegedly influenced by Nethymia's lead doctor living in the Jovis Consortium.

In response to the allegations, the Federation halted the export of all food staples to Nethymian outposts including their main station, Soteria, above Jupiter. Most nations on Earth, still Solis’ number one food producer, followed suit. Nethymia had long scoured Solis for ancient evidence of Xeno-civilizations and had developed a cult-like movement inside their corporation’s ranks. The well-resourced Nethymia ignited its long-desired holy war as retribution. Nethymians sought the destruction of void terminals and emporiums, sophisticated stations that facilitated deep space travel. Nethymia’s messaging proliferated across the incorruptible starchain. The corporation's message resonated across Solis in guilds, disenchanted colonies, and forgotten void stations. Their anti-humanist movement sought to terminate human life from Exo-Jovis sites and eventually re-confine humanity to cislunar space. In their eyes, the plague of humanity was unworthy of its inevitable interstellar expansion. We were unworthy of ad astra.

The Nethymians succeeded at destroying nearly 80% of void terminals. More than 15 colonies were extinguished – devoid of a single human survivor. No outpost, station, or colony beyond Mars remained untouched. Once the scale of the Nethymian Extermination became apparent, several Earth nations, lunar protectorates, and colonies within the Home Systems launched a Solis-wide search and destroy mission for Nethymians. Chaos ensued across Solis. Colonies and outposts collapsed without access to trade. As Nethymians were neither associated by genetics or appearance, rooting out associates of their cause frequently devolved into witch hunts. Thus, a war that started with a clear delineation between the ‘good guys’ vs. the ‘bad guys’ became a convoluted mess that shook the moral foundations of humanity.

The loss of void infrastructure, built up over centuries, was severe. The three-century march of humanism, peace, and development collapsed during the twelve-year war. The closer a human was connected to the home planet, the less likely they were to empathize with those born in the void, especially those born outside the Home Systems. Earth, Luna, Arcadia, and Lunar-2 began inwardly focusing their development. Mars furthered its independence from the cradle. The Jovis Consortium announced it wanted to be recognized as a civilization wholly separate from the Home Systems. Some historians today refer to the 24th century as the Second Dark Ages.

The Origins of the Reclaimer Program: The Solis Reclaimed Treaty

After nearly 100 years of stalled void development, the United American Republic, led by Earth’s most powerful nation state, announced the Reclaimer Program, an effort for humanity to reclaim its path towards an interstellar future. Nonetheless, the semi-militarized Reclaimer Program sought far more than just exploration. There were three primary missions listed in the Solis Reclaimed Treaty signed in 2478 A.D.:

1. Reinspire humanity’s enthusiasm for Exo-Jovis and interstellar travel

2. Link isolated colonies, outposts, and void stations, while identifying new locations for terminals and emporiums

3. Remove threats, both organic and synthetic, to human civilization

Earth sought the reclamation of its sons and daughters spread throughout the void. As the quality of life on Earth began to rapidly feel the effects of a broken void economy, humanity sought to protect its resources and most importantly the life that it had thrown out into the cold, matterless expanse. Hammer was the direct beneficiary of this remarkable sentiment shift. Tremendous resources, experimental technologies, and a comprehensive multi-planet commitment contributed to the Reclaimer Program. Reclaimers were equipped with a logistics pipeline that rivaled the wealth and sophistication of the Emirati network. Each Reclaimer received advanced infiltration and close quarter zero-gravity combat training due to the quantity of rogue synthetics, pirates, and hostile populaces that roamed the void during the 26th century.

Ongoing Controversy: A private starchain and Chariot-3

There is ongoing debate among certain groups on Earth about whether Hammer's complete starchain should have been published. Since he shielded some entries from the public starchain, many view the release as a violation of Hammer's privacy. Then, there is the belief, largely pushed by the University di Mare Cognitum, that most of Hammer’s entries are mere fabrications or at the very least exaggerations. In 2802 A.D., Mare Cognitum’s Promethean Intelligence (PI) discovered in the Reclaimer Program archives that Hammer was linked with experimental artificial intelligence (AI) and cybernetics called Chariot-3. This was subsequently confirmed when Hammer’s private starchain was unlocked in 2889 A.D.

Some users of Chariot-3, developed by Chicago Wetware and Robotics, Inc., reported hallucinations, delusions, and paranoia. Because of this, critics find Hammer’s entries far less credible than other Reclaimer accounts. Yet, the fact that humans living across Solis still indulge themselves in stories from Hammer, Bo-Dari, and Chen indicate the Reclaimer Program was successful in its core mission. While not as dramatic as Homer's Odyssey or as religiously significant as the Dead Sea Scrolls, The Void Diaries in the 32nd century remains a common source of inspiration for pioneers born throughout Solis. Numerous academies in the Home Systems and the Jovis Consortium proclaim The Void Diaries as one of the most important works referenced by pioneers developing Dream Centauri.

Hammer’s obligation to the Reclaimer Program was 12 years. His service required him to privately document his experiences from candidate selection onwards. This included his thoughts on the colonies, void stations, and humans he met throughout the journey. Some of Hammer’s experiences were published as Reclaimer Program propaganda because personal stories were needed to reignite humanity’s passion for fearless adventurism.

Unfortunately, Hammer died during his 10th year as Reclaimer at only 33 years old, and 20% of his time as Reclaimer is unaccounted for - known as the Vanished Entries. Hammer’s whereabouts and activities for nearly two years remain a complete mystery. An exceptional number of theories exist about Hammer’s life between years 6 and 8. Did he secretly return to live on Earth? Was he part of a classified mission for the Reclaimer Directorate? Did he partake in experimental interstellar programs? Hammer made no entries on his starchain during this period. The key to unlocking the Vanished Entries is probably locked away on an obscure private starchain belonging to a man or woman now lost to time. Maybe we will never know.

The Legacy of Alexander Hammer

The bombastic Reclaimer Program Director Viktor Kalis spoke little about Hammer’s untimely death. He wrote, “Reclaimer Hammer was exceptional among extraordinary peers. His contributions to humanity will echo for one thousand years.” What did Kalis know about Hammer that the public wouldn’t know for nearly 400 years? Was Kalis involved in the missing two years of Hammer’s life? This is something we can only speculate about. Archives do reveal, however, that Kalis personally selected Hammer and Reclaimer Ryan Blueburn for Chariot-3 augmentation.

Today, the term “Reclaimer” depicts a demographic group unique to a particular place and time in history like Spartan, Crusader, or Soviet.

Hammer’s frozen remains were found submerged 75 meters deep in Ligeia Mare on Titan. At the time of his death, there was little void deep-sea (VDS) infrastructure available to retrieve the ARVID. In the 25th century, nearly all VDS craft and infrastructure were located on Europa and Enceladus. Getting the tools in place to recover the ARVID was no small (or cheap) feat thus explaining the lack of interest from the Reclaimer Program to retrieve his remains. His Med ID, a tiny pill-sized device injected into Hammer's forearm, revealed his cause of death was suffocation and hypothermia. It was during his autopsy that IXCHEL, the medical PI aboard the AVENGER II, discovered a nano-inscription on the Med ID with the private keys of Hammer’s shielded starchain. The starchain was accessed and studied by historians and artists at Neptune’s Crossing, an early predecessor of Dream Centauri. Based aboard the AMAZONIA, the team devoted to Hammer’s starchain sought to annotate, cross-reference, and corroborate other stories and events from the Mars Infinitum Age. They were also able to create content, such as movies and vexes, from his entries and used them to promote the Neptune’s Crossing mission.

Neptune's Crossing was a sixty-year effort to build a new habitat for more than 100,000,000 humans. It primarily used resources exclusively from Neptune and its moon system.

Some of his entries reveal the somber loneliness of void travel yet most cherish the adventure Hammer encountered along the way. Those who venture the void and humans grounded on Earth alike can feel the wonder and danger of Hammer’s experiences. Hammer befriended gold pirates in The Belt, plunged to the depths of Alpha Ocean on Europa to explore lost scientific research stations, and spelunked into Valles Marineris. He fell in love at Demeter Prime, hunted fugitive neo-Nethymians, and sought out the remnants of the Golden Exodus. He seemed to revel in it all. Besides the void adventures, Hammer’s personality, more akin to 20th century heroes like Churchill and Armstrong, brought a forgotten masculinity into the 26th century. He was also a student of history and admired earth’s most famous real-life and fictional heroes. This too likely influenced the way he acted and decisions he made.

For those who find The Void Diaries inspirational, it is considered an act of God that his private keys were engraved at the atomic level on the back of his Med ID. Throughout his entire starchain, there is no mention of the Med ID inscription. The consensus theory is that Hammer probably inscribed the keys to guarantee his works and collections would live in posterity. To those who defended the shielded starchain's release, this argument is their north star: Hammer must have wanted his story told eventually or he wouldn't have engraved his private keys. The type of man to model their life on the hero’s journey does not want to be easily forgotten.

Prepare for the Void

By 2200 A.D., humanity’s expansion throughout Solis was well underway with dozens of colonies on Mars, established outposts in the Belt, humans chased sea monsters with VDS submarines on Europa, and completed construction of Lunar-2. By 2300 A.D., Soteria was a thriving industrial colony floating 700,000 kilometers above Jupiter and void terminals were being constructed to launch humanity towards the Outer Gas Ring. The Nethymian Extermination destroyed humanity’s thriving efforts, and 2400 A.D. became the mid-point of a lost century. The Reclaimer Program saved humanity from a lost millennium. A mere seven centuries after the conclusion of the Nethymian Extermination, humanity has done far more than reclaim its appetite for exploration. Today, Dream Centauri, a spiritual successor to Reclaimer, aims to make humanity a multi-star species. The Void Diaries, if nothing else, gives humanity a microcosm of a millennia into the future – networks of humanity evolving, developing their own cultures, and innovating in untold ways that would have been impossible had we confined ourselves to our blue origins.

Dr. Vy Kaida

Director of Histories

Dream Centauri

01 JUNE 3102 A.D.