Gunslingers of the Solarsphere

When I was in graduate school, I met the first man from Little Arcadia. I will never forget those obsidian eyes and the deep terror that awoke within me. Little did I know at the time that this interaction would become one of the most defining moments of my young life, one that would sculpt my future. In those days Little Arcadia was not filled with Lightkeepers like it is today. It was a rough, isolated manufacturing hub in the outer layers of the void city, very different from how it looks now. The man I met, Theseus, was the first of his people to habituate what is now unequivocally a Lightkeeper neighbourhood and stronghold. When they were brought in from Arcadia system, the Lightkeepers, or Arcadians as they would refer to themselves as, were kept in a long quarantine in close orbit with Terra Duomo ; monitored for unknown pathogens they could have carried with them, and to confirm their immune systems would be able to handle the much wider bubble of humanity waiting to meet th

  H istory  October 27 3030    Hello I am Kate Dellars and I live on the planet Nectorania. I am a Nectorite. Nectorites have to drink and/or eat at least one nectarine a day so that my brain gets juice to work. Before I get into detail about myself let me tell you about my planet. On August 24 2020 Hugh Aculees (the founder of our planet) was awarded the best brain transplanter in the world. So Nasa asked him to go on the next mission with Clob and Roug. The next mission was on the 25 of August 2020. Little did Hugh know, the ship would crash. When he woke up from the crash he realized that he was on a planet that was earth like. It had no creatures on it. So he made a brain from the supplies he had and tried to form a body with it. It did not work out well. But a few days later he realized something strange about the creature he made. It looked like she was eating nectarines. One every day. Then they ran out of them. She almost died. He started to grow nectarine trees. She ate the ne

Audio Clip #7 “Last week our golden gods left us. No more ceremonies, no more dancing, no more singing. Morale has wavered but not broken. For most of us at least. Actually, it feels like a haze has been lifted… as if the weeks of chanting with and praising those fluorescent beings were a dream. Gamma Draconis looms larger and larger on our horizon, metaphorically speaking. We are all focused on the advent of starting a new life there. Of honouring our past lives as well. Of honouring Dave. How could I have forgotten him so easily before…” * Captain Sheffield does not speak for a few seconds and audibly wrings her hands. “A haze… a dream.” *here there is a knock on the cabin door, and Captain Sheffield speaks briefly with a crewmate. Audio is muffled and inaudible. Captain Sheffield returns to the recording after 1 minute and 15 seconds. “That was Jorge. He’s worried about Liz. She has not been doing so well since our golden gods left us. Where the others have begun focusing