CENTAURIA

The history of Centauria has only just begun and yet it is already filled with violence and bloodshed. In the year 2218, the pioneering colonial research vessel Elysium left its orbital docking station and headed towards the future of the human race: an outer-system settlement near the Star of Alpha Centauri. The stories will tell of a journey that was an undeniable success; a new planet discovered, a new way of life, the rise of a new human empire. Our species is no longer bound to a single planet - balancing on the knife edge of extinction - or even to a single system. We have flourished and entered a new realm of existence, a whole new solar system - one where we are not alone. The settlement of Hope Cove was indeed a near perfect success. The Elysium had deployed its precious cargo with precision and the new colonists had wasted no time in making this new world their own. Over time, there was both heartache and joy. Yet Centauria held an unwanted secret, a secret that once opened - could never be forgotten. Hidden within the Great Desert lay the ruins of a crashed starship, and inside that ship lay an even greater surprise. An ill-fated alien race called the Asilians - they taught us, warned us and ultimately led us through a gateway to another universe. A universe filled with hatred, conflict and an unrelenting evil that spreads through the vacuum of space like fire raging on a sea of oil. The first battle with the Skaalii, upon the icy plains of the asilian homeworld, ended in tragedy. The first casualties of this unwanted conflict had already been taken, and in a war that spans two dimensions, many more will follow. For those who came on that first colony ship, life would never be the same. For most, it was the beginnings of a clearer, better, way of being; a chance to start again and help build a new settlement. For others, it was the beginning of a nightmare that would shroud a civilisation and plunge them all into an inevitable darkness. * * * CHAPTER ONE: “Six Years On” - How conflicting it can be to stare at the raindrops tapping into a puddle of water. It reminds me that the weather outside is dull and grey, but also there is a tantalising beauty in watching the ripples glide effortlessly over the surface. My father told me that a man can spend countless minutes staring into such a thing whilst his mind races over its many thoughts. It was a moment like that when he spoke his last words to me before he left. “A war is coming,” he said. “A war is coming to us all, and I cannot just stand by and wait for it.” - An extract from the diary of Elysium - Age 6 The heavy grey clouds rolled slowly over Hope Cove; a passing storm left a cold light rain as its parting gift. Each droplet that fell onto the concrete landing pad gifted tiny sparkles of motion in the thin film of water that had gathered upon it. Dusk had once again fallen over Centauria's inhabitants. Dean Archer stood perfectly still, gazing out over the ocean, his eyes fixed on the tormented waves crashing time and time again into the three rocky towers that littered Hope Cove's coastline. His mind was elsewhere, his vision mesmerised by the dark blues that burst into the pure white of an exploding wave. Somewhere above him a humming noise became audible, closer still was a voice that carried no demand to be heard. It tried and tried again and on its fourth attempt Dean began to pay attention. “You say something?” he said, slowly pulling his stare away from the towers to where the voice was emanating from. The dark figure of a man took a small step forward and emerged from the shelter of a makeshift cargo umbrella. “I said, it sounds like the bird is coming back.” Dean looked into the sky, realising now that the humming noise was becoming increasingly louder, but could still only see the passing clouds. The figure spoke again. “I'd take a step back if I were you.” Dean obeyed as the cargo ship finally came into view. The odd, square shaped, looking vessel quickly released its landing gear as the reverse thrusters gently brought the ship to a halt. A violent yet short-lived hiss followed a mechanical whirl as the cargo ship's bay ramp opened up. When the great metallic slab had finally come to rest on the ground, Dean wasted no time in crossing the landing pad and heading inside for the nearest wooden box. The dark figure stepped out from the umbrella's shadow, shaking his head as he walked through the rain. “This guy is definitely all work and no play,” he whispered to himself. Inside the cargo bay the boxes were stacked from floor to ceiling, three rows across, and spanned the entire length of the ship. “You always this much fun?” said the now drenched man as he removed his black baseball cap, shook the water from it, and placed it backwards on his head. Dean ignored the question, lifted another box, and briefly glared at his colleague as he passed by. The man picked the smallest package he could find and followed Dean down the ramp. “Look pal, I'm just trying to find out who I'm working with here. I have been here for three days now and I haven't had barely a word from you!” “You know all you need to know,” said Dean with a tone that attempted to end the conversation. It didn't work. “Yeah, I know your name is Dean, you work on the lower end of colony logistics, you're not the greatest conversationalist in the world and the boss told me to leave you be.” Dean offered his colleague a questioning frown. “What part of that didn't you understand then?”