Children of the White Star

Prologue ExodusWe are the lucky ones. We survived the exodus to reach the new world, unlike many of our people. We are here because fate allowed us to survive the odds while the rest did not. It is chilling to think the Weavers can be so random when choosing who lives or dies. From our ship's logs, the journey of House Brysdyn to our new home took place without incident. Thirty ships left our star system, carrying no fewer than five hundred thousand passengers in stasis. However, when the computers installed in our Worldships woke us on our approach to this world, we learned only two ships remained. Any chance of rebuilding the empire died with the others. The loss of so many affected us as profoundly as facing the reality of our white star's impending supernova. It is a sobering thing for any race to accept it would outlive the planet of its origin. The White Star civilisation, representing everything we knew, was coming to an end. For years, many tried to deny the truth, dismiss it as doomsday hysteria, but the science of the cosmos proved without doubt the dwarf star in the centre of our solar system was dying. Our existence came about through an evolutionary fluke. Life should never have formed here, but through a one-in-a-billion chance it did, and our civilisation came into being. In the end, it mattered little, because our sun was still decaying. After the initial shock and dismay wore off and we accepted the situation, speedy action was needed to deal with the threat. It may seem a long time, but fifty years to move an entire civilisation to another system capable of supporting life was not enough time to get the deed done. The Worldships were commissioned by the Grand Council and construction began soon after. For the next five decades, the business of the empire became shipbuilding. Many deluded themselves until the bitter end. When they time came, they refused to go, unable to face the idea of starting again without the comforts that had always been so much a part of their lives. We tried not to think of those who remained behind, tried not think about their senseless death in the face of their stubborn ignorance when the sun burned its last. Their deaths added to the tally of the lost since leaving the white star. The computers recorded as much as possible in their memory banks, storing the information for when we woke up. Thanks to them, we possessed some knowledge of what happened to the rest of the fleet. Most vessels suffered mechanical malfunction, due to our prolonged journey. With no real grasp of how long we would be travelling, we prepared for every contingency, but still too many things remained out of our hands. The ship arrived on the new world almost ready to fall apart. Considering the effects of the extended voyage on our worldship by the time we set down, it is not difficult to imagine other ships buckling even earlier in the journey. We survived because of good engineering or luck. Not all victims fell to mechanical failure. Numerous perils exist when travelling through uncharted space: black holes, cosmic strings, meteor showers and supernova. Any of these phenomena were capable of tearing our worldships apart like paper. The absence of the others proved that no amount of preparation was adequate. Fortunately, not all ships were destroyed. One vessel discovered an ideal world much earlier than we did. House Jyne chose a world for themselves on the far side of the quadrant. During the ten further years it took us to reach our paradise, they began colonisation of their new home. News of their survival gave us hope. Perhaps scattering our people among the stars would not mean an automatic doom. Even in their damaged state, they reached worlds they could call home. In some distant future, time might reunite the children of the white star. We might even see each other as friends.