User:NikoTheGuyDude/Cin

Discovery

In 2582, a corporate survey fleet, headed by the Dromedary-class survey ship "Illilyalis", explored the already promising "Jordus" nebula, arriving in the "Cin" system as their first stop post-bluespace jump. The Cin system was already known to have 4 planets in orbit of the primary K-class star, and one in the goldilocks zone, however the common theory at the time of the survey was that the nebula's extreme heat would have made habitation within the system grueling at best, and impossible at worst. However, modern heat-shielding on spaceships rated for atmospheric flight rendered them nearly immune to the heat, allowing for travel within the system. Immediately apon exiting the bluespace tunnel, however, this theory changed; the nebula within the system was actually a bearable temperature. At the time, the scientists crewing the fleet did not recognize what this meant, but they had just found a system with a potentially inhabited planet. Sadly (or thankfully depending on who you ask), they did not investigate the planet within the goldilocks zone. Instead, they continued with their normal survey.

The preliminary survey of the local nebulaic volume around Cin returned with reports of high concentration of valuable Hydrogen and Helium isotopes, useful for corporations with the resources to extract and process such gases, likely securing it's position as an important system for decades to come. Further surveying and scanning revealed an extensive blanket of stellar dust coating much of the system, with an abundance of metal-rich asteroid fields scattered about to boot.

Aside from these very promising finds, however, nothing of major interest was revealed. The star was typical, although it was noted that it has a significantly higher rate of solar storms/solar flares/CMEs. There were no extra-planetary bodies. No anomalies or hidden bases were detected. Each planet was entirely unremarkable (A barren world devoid of resources in the outskirts of the system, a gas giant with tame weather, a barren world orbiting said giant) except for one. This single world was written off in the haste to not be late for the fleet's scheduled return, but before any possible sensor readings were smothered by the bluespace feedback generated by the FTL drives of the ships, a small sensor ship fired a concentrated sensor burst directly at it. The sensor officer, and bridge crew, were shocked by what they saw; it appeared as if this cloudy planet was completely enveloped by a radioactive storm, churning and broiling. They were so puzzled, they sent the report to the captain of the Illilyalis, who was equally as shocked. To put into perspective what they saw, the highest natural-occurring level of radiation that had ever been recorded on a significant celestial body was 500 Roentgen/hour, on a gas giant, fueled by a perpetual tritium fire in the lower atmosphere. And this one unassuming planet was giving off readings that would suggest the planet is constantly experiencing a barrage of 470 roentgen/hour, and it's atmospheric density barely touches the previous record's.

Despite the extremely intriguing sensor data they had just received, there was nothing they could do. They were scheduled to return to station in one day, and if they were late, the command crew could face fines, arrest, or even imprisonment for breach of contract. Sighing, the captain begrudgingly gave the order to initiate jump, and the planet left alone, once again, it's mystery unresolved. And with the extremely exploration-oriented doctrine employed by nearly all governments and corporations at the time, it was always unlikely that this planet would ever receive an official survey again.

As was expected, despite the captain's protests, the corporation they belonged too showed no interest in investigating the anomaly. Instead, they sought out to exploit the resources discovered by the survey. Construction ships were dispatched to create nav buoys, patrol HQs, sensor arrays, mining and siphon stations, everything typical for such an exploitation effort. All that was done about the odd planet was the deployment of an array of radiation alert beacons in high orbit. However, Cin's status as the closest system to the nearest inhabited sector quickly made it into a valuable waystation for the upcoming exploitation efforts, quickly boosting it's status and popularity among all individuals. These individuals included prospectors, survey fleets, construction fleets... and the more criminal type. Given how many waystations and small orbital stations that would be present in such an important system, along with the mass amount of valuable isotopes and minerals being transported both in and out of system, the system was already ripe for underground activity, if it wasn't for the security detail. The dense cloud of dust and asteroid fields, while mitigating a security response, did not outright guarantee safety; until the criminals started welding lead plates onto their ships, and descending below the Cindar radiation belt, where sensors could not hope to penetrate the ionic storm. It was here that criminals hid after a heist, or when on the run, or to trade, or for many, many other illicit reasons. This did not go unnoticed by in-system security patrols, however they simply did not have the resources nor the time to focus on it, so they simply focused on intercepting ships on a course to Cindar. Unbeknownst to the criminals using Cindar as a sensor shield, however, there were some people who did /not/ need sensors to track them; the Cindarians. They watched the strange space ships descend from the irradiated storm perpetually churning above them with deep apprehension and anxiety, all from the safety of their bunkers. Some Cidarians, however, viewed these people with not purely fear, but with also a drop of hope; they had lived in these bunkers for hundreds, maybe thousands of years, and these strange people seemed to be unloading what appeared to be water, metals, lead, machinery... all things the Cindarians needed dearly.