A matter of History
It was the 23rd Century: mankind’s darkest hour. The war had been raging for almost one hundred years. We had been fighting for so long no one could remember the reason why it all started in the first place. All we knew was that there were two sides, the Coalition and the Alliance. For decades millions died for the same piece of rock again and again. Finally, one side managed to gain he upper hand: the Coalition. In desperation, the Alliance launched five sleeper ships. The hope was for them to begin again far from the war and strife that had befallen Earth, to start free from the prejudices that had divided us for so long. Each sleeper ship was christened after its patron nation: the Bretonia, the Rheinland. the Hispania, the Kusari, the Liberty. Against all odds, the colony ships broke through the Coalition blockade and headed for the Sirius Sector.
The Coalition’s failure at this decisive moment was not complete. For years spies had infiltrated the Alliance’s ranks. Their plans were already known. Soon, a Coalition sleeper ship was completed: the Stalin. It gave chase to the colony ships, beginning its own voyage to Sirius. Meanwhile... the war continued on. One by one, the remaining Alliance bases were overrun until all that remained was Pluto. It was here that the Alliance forces prepared for one gallant, last stand. But then, something happened that no one could have ever imagined. They arrived. It was our first contact with another species and for a moment we forgot our differences. We just stood there - dumbfounded by its size and beauty. It was ironic that in those moments we were finally united as a people, but this revelation could be savored for only a few bitter seconds… for these aliens had not come in peace.
From this massacre emerged few survivors. A new conflict had begun, and it could not be won. Coalition forces were driven back and slaughtered by the alien menace. With all now lost for Earth, the last of the sleeper ships were hastened to completion and prepared for launch. Unwilling to risk jeopardizing the safety of colonists in Sirius by leading the Nomads there, the crews of the Moscow and Minsk instead turned their eyes to the Alliance’s fall-back destination: the Altair Sector. Amidst the chaos of battle, both vessels managed to escape the alien aggressors. For those left behind there was no hope for survival. In the days to come, they would suffer a dark and gruesome fate. That was 800 years ago, when we came here to rebuild our lives. We’ve come a long ways since then. We have grown, we have prospered, we have flourished… but we will never forget.