04-02-2014, 05:48 PM
STARDATE: 04/02/2014
I wish that I could take credit for the naming of this star-faring vessel, but I can't. Credit goes to the imagination shipbuilders of Rogue Space RPG. It is from hence that the name was derived.
What better name for a ship could there be? The game of Phoenix:BSE awaited, and destiny called. Or was it one of that game's various player-led affiliations that lured me into this game's setting?
Being a fan of considerable years of the Planet of the Apes franchise, the name, Simian Star, fit to a tee.
Naming the ship, however, would soon prove to be the easy part.
They say that, in space, no one can hear you scream. It's a good thing for that, too, as I have barely done anything, thus far, and I have already wanted to scream many times.
Had I bothered to create this log over on the Phoenix:BSE forum, any S.O.S. that I sent out as a player would undoubtedly be picked up on - and responded to - by any number of fellow space-faring creatures.
However, since some stasis field (Nexus settings) keep that forum sealed away from all but the registered users that frequent there, the plight of this vessel may well have never reached the PBM universe that lay beyond. Apparently, the best way for the game to advertise itself is by ensuring that anyone who does not register for the Phoenix:BSE Nexus will not have access to read the forum there.
But, such great mysteries of the galaxy that I find myself in, aside, more pressing matters demand my immediate attention.
Having made our way to the planet, Mithras, we have landed our ship on the planet's surface. We have come to terms with the inhabitants, there, on capturing some icy chunks of comet debris, and releasing them in low orbit over the planet, in order to generate rain.
It may have been our extraordinary inexperience in such matters that made us proper candidates to carry out this mission, or perhaps it was simply our superior simian intellect that persuaded these planetary natives that we could be entrusted to not guide a comet into a collision course with their planet, thereby all but guaranteeing an extinction level event.
Unlike the human species and countless other alien races Hell-bent on galactic conquest, we simians embrace space exploration at a far more casual pace. The mere fact that we don't seem to know what in the Hell that we are doing does not even factor into the equation.
It is not my place, as captain of this vessel, to take issue with all those hordes of players who have come before me, and who no doubt obtained familiarity with Phoenix:BSE through the process of osmosis. That said, long have we gaped bewildered, as we strived to decipher the controls that lay before us.
More than once, we broke off the learning process in favor of other pursuits. Eventually, we made our way back there, again, cursing the unknown architects of the galaxy that failed to ingrain knowledge of this system into our species' genetic code.
After consulting with the ship's engineers and science personnel, I have made the decision to lift off this planet, and rendezvous with an incoming comet. Charges will have to be set, once there.
Captain's Personal Log: Thus far, the journey to learn how to play this game has proven to be a tedious and tiring affair. Intuitive is not the word that I would use to describe the Nexus. I am certain that it was designed by an ancient alien race. Their technology strikes me as indecipherable. I find myself favoring early retirement.
I wish that I could take credit for the naming of this star-faring vessel, but I can't. Credit goes to the imagination shipbuilders of Rogue Space RPG. It is from hence that the name was derived.
What better name for a ship could there be? The game of Phoenix:BSE awaited, and destiny called. Or was it one of that game's various player-led affiliations that lured me into this game's setting?
Being a fan of considerable years of the Planet of the Apes franchise, the name, Simian Star, fit to a tee.
Naming the ship, however, would soon prove to be the easy part.
They say that, in space, no one can hear you scream. It's a good thing for that, too, as I have barely done anything, thus far, and I have already wanted to scream many times.
Had I bothered to create this log over on the Phoenix:BSE forum, any S.O.S. that I sent out as a player would undoubtedly be picked up on - and responded to - by any number of fellow space-faring creatures.
However, since some stasis field (Nexus settings) keep that forum sealed away from all but the registered users that frequent there, the plight of this vessel may well have never reached the PBM universe that lay beyond. Apparently, the best way for the game to advertise itself is by ensuring that anyone who does not register for the Phoenix:BSE Nexus will not have access to read the forum there.
But, such great mysteries of the galaxy that I find myself in, aside, more pressing matters demand my immediate attention.
Having made our way to the planet, Mithras, we have landed our ship on the planet's surface. We have come to terms with the inhabitants, there, on capturing some icy chunks of comet debris, and releasing them in low orbit over the planet, in order to generate rain.
It may have been our extraordinary inexperience in such matters that made us proper candidates to carry out this mission, or perhaps it was simply our superior simian intellect that persuaded these planetary natives that we could be entrusted to not guide a comet into a collision course with their planet, thereby all but guaranteeing an extinction level event.
Unlike the human species and countless other alien races Hell-bent on galactic conquest, we simians embrace space exploration at a far more casual pace. The mere fact that we don't seem to know what in the Hell that we are doing does not even factor into the equation.
It is not my place, as captain of this vessel, to take issue with all those hordes of players who have come before me, and who no doubt obtained familiarity with Phoenix:BSE through the process of osmosis. That said, long have we gaped bewildered, as we strived to decipher the controls that lay before us.
More than once, we broke off the learning process in favor of other pursuits. Eventually, we made our way back there, again, cursing the unknown architects of the galaxy that failed to ingrain knowledge of this system into our species' genetic code.
After consulting with the ship's engineers and science personnel, I have made the decision to lift off this planet, and rendezvous with an incoming comet. Charges will have to be set, once there.
Captain's Personal Log: Thus far, the journey to learn how to play this game has proven to be a tedious and tiring affair. Intuitive is not the word that I would use to describe the Nexus. I am certain that it was designed by an ancient alien race. Their technology strikes me as indecipherable. I find myself favoring early retirement.