Charian

Charian Banner

Short Story Introduction

“But I don’t want it, it’ll hurt!”

“Nonsense!” the Charian in the long lab coat replied, offering the child a small red tablet.

“We have developed a neurological blocker which, when ingested, is capable of converting pain signals into taste. Therefore, when we prescribe this to you, you will instead taste Xirconberries. The Pandeus modulator procedure will be entirely painless. Do you like Xirconberries?”

“See, it is perfectly harmless. Your father and I have both undergone this procedure and it was absolutely fine,” the boy’s mother interjected seeing the uncertain frown on her daughter.

Charian male by James Goudie

“Whoa, who’s that?” the girl suddenly exclaimed jumping down from the bed and pointing out of the hospital wing’s window at the block opposite. There, with his back to the hospital, was a bronzed man with no shirt on. His skin looked alien and unfamiliar compared to the usual Charian hues. Down his spine ran black spots, which came to a point just above his trousers.

“I must admit that I am unsure of his designation,” the surgeon began, stepping over to join her by the window.

“I do believe that his species are commonly known as Gervians,” the father added, squinting.

Before anyone could answer, the man they were watching raised his arms and displayed a series of intricate and complex tattoos which stretched from his shoulder to wrist. As they watched, the tattoos glowed from black to a deep red, the colour sweeping down towards his hands.

“What is...” someone said, but the question hung. The glow faded from the man’s arms and he brought them up towards his face, palms up to be inspected but hidden from the viewers. He began to shake his head and turned to the Charian standing beside him who tapped on the datapad he held.

A few moments later, the Gervian raised his arms once again and the deep red colour once more rushed along his tattoos from his shoulders towards his wrists. This time the movement was slower, more measured. Before it could reach the hand, the Charian turned suddenly towards the window and noticed his gawping audience, causing the girl to gasp. His eye was an electronic terror, a camera lens which spun and focused on the watchers. He stabbed wildly at his datapad and the blinds covering the window snapped shut hiding the inhabitants.

A second later there was a flash of light which could be seen even through the covering.

“I want a robot eye!” the girl shouted, bounding back towards the bed and joyfully leaping in it.

Racial Overview

The Charians are a race of fallen gods. Although the loss of their power happened centuries ago and many generations have since passed, they still collectively remember what they once were and each is fascinated with seizing such potential again. They are not an innately evil race, but such obsession drives them down various paths to restore their lost power, and some venture down darker paths than others. Conversely they are also capable of great benevolence. Even those who are considered to have truly fallen can redeem themselves through unexpected kindness and generosity.

As a people, they are very tall with a lanky, bony physiology. They tend to have a medium or light complexion with their skin taking on an unhealthy pallor. Their faces tend to be quite long square structure, while their cheek bones are high and well defined. Their eyes slant upward and their noses do not protrude with their nostrils being virtually arched under the eye.

Mentally the Charians are gifted with a towering intellect which is well able to internally process vast amounts of data. Their memory tends towards the eidetic or photographic. These traits grant them with a great understanding and interest in any academic pursuit, but this most often manifests as a love of science.

The vast majority of Charians have a cybernetic implant of some kind, either to further improve their already tremendous mental agility or to empower themselves in a more physical way. This is achieved by an automatic injection of hormones or other chemicals, replacing limbs with more efficient prosthetics or even granting themselves regenerative powers. However, this mechanical advantage does come with a cost, their bodies naturally reject these implants unless suppressed with a highly addictive drug known as Pandeus.

How can they do this to themselves?

- Eloise Quepero D'Pigens

Do not be so quick to judge. I wonder how far you would go if you were to lose your ability to manipulate senses.

– Conleth, Historian to the Concordium.

Racial Characteristics

Statistics

Charian Racial Statistics

Racial Special Abilities

- Brain Processor (Cybernetic)

- Inquisitive (Intelligence)

How can we be sure they all ask for this?

– Conleth, Historian to the Concordium.

That sounds oddly familar...

- Eloise Quepero D'Pigens

Appearance

General Features

Charian female by James Goudie

• Hair
  • Varying levels of baldness are common.
  • Lumenescent colours.
• Physiology
  • Humanoid
    • Tall, lanky and boney.
    • Charians do not have protruding noses and their nostrils appear more like over-developed tear ducts which shape around the eye.
    • Eyes are upturned, giving them a permanent sad-looking face.
    • Prominent necks.
    • Unhealthy palour to the skin.
• Body Art
  • Digital tattoos and technological piercings are common.

Male Features

• Physique
  • Prominent forehead.
  • Blockier face.
  • Broader shoulders.

Female Features

• Physique
  • Longer eyelashes.
  • Narrower face / body.
  • Higher cheekbones.

Accoutrements

• Clothes
  • Cybernetics are highly prized.
    • Also used for aesthetic purposes and to show wealth or status.
    • Physical feature enhancements.
    • Mental ability enhancements.
  • Sterile or clinical clothing.
• Weapons and Armour
  • No real use for either, although some implants may be weaponised.

Religion

Divinity is the boon and curse of the Charians. They once knew its intoxicating touch and they crave it still. Now they find themselves trying to re-create that sanctity through cybernetics. Unfortunately their bodies reject the implants so they have begun to take Pandeus, an addictive substance which neutralises the rejection but leaves them sickly. They are essentially killing themselves while trying to recover their innate power.

Primary : Deism : 60% : Although their power is gone, most Charians seek to restore their lost divinity by any means necessary.

Secondary : Rationalism : 25% : It is not mysticism which caused this sense of powerlessness. In fact, they do not feel powerless at all. Science has led the race to great advances and who knows what the future holds?

Secondary : Atheism : 15% : Divinity is a cruel mistress and any chance of restoring it is hopeless. They are as pessimistic as they come and even though their search for divinity has ended, the addiction keeps them hooked on cybernetics.

Secondary : Living Gods : Minor : Divinity was never lost, rather the truth has been lost in time. Only some Charians were graced with the innate divinity, and none have ascended for centuries. The potential to do so however, remains. These believers tend to have few or no implants and are “pure”. As such, they are despised by the rest of Charian society as freaks and unnatural.

Starting Ships-- Scout and Light Carrier

(Designs by James Goudie)

Racial History

To be added.

Faster, higher, stronger. The story of Pandeus.

Pandeus,

bringing divinity to the people,

so that all may be gods again.

My name is Chesham and I’m an addict.

Admitting that revelation to those not of my usual group of close associates, that is to say, to strangers, never gets any easier. Now, what if I told you that this state of affairs is not unique to my own circumstances, but rather that my entire genus is thus blemished?

No doubt you would proclaim us to be vagrants, mendicants or vagabonds, the very detritus of society. We are often condemned as a people, cast aside by the rest of the Concordium and forced to rot in abject poverty and disgrace.

Most would simply condemn us to that fate, but a rare group would rather ask themselves just what has befallen this people? What collective catastrophe could possibly have occurred to doom an entire race to an existence of dependency upon a toxic substance?

Once, we were gods. No, don’t roll your eyes in disbelief, this is a simple truth. We live in a universe where the Gervian people are able to conjure fire and the Saraven read minds. Who is to say that there is not a spark of the divine in us all? Even now we are blessed with an intelligence quotient double that of our confederates. The Tuleonetians can connect their psyche to others of their race. We, on the other hand, are able to innately calculate and understand.

The sheer processing power of our mind is incredible. We teach quantum theory to our young in primary school, while the adults of our intellectual rivals struggle with its concepts in their highest institutes of education.

Now imagine if that intelligence was simply an aspect of our biological makeup. Faster, higher, stronger – these were facts of life for us. Those simple sounding traits to which all aspire were once innate abilities of my people. We were not just top of the food chain, we were an entire order of magnitude beyond it.

Imagine retired athletes running a race and losing. They know that once, in their youth, they would have won the contest simply and efficiently with the barest hint of exertion. They can keenly remember the sensation of victory, the heady power of superiority. Challenge was simply an obstacle to be stepped over.

Think of that athlete now, watching as others basked in the glory they know was once their own. A past they yearn for, but can never regain. Their own body which once bested all competition has become the vehicle of their downfall.

The Charian race is a species in retirement, our intellect may remain a thing of wonder, but our corporeal existence is an exemplification of weakness and frailty. Consider the frustration, the resentment and the anger we felt before you judge our present state.

In our torment, we turned to science. For a while, it looked like our minds had unlocked the answers to the problems we faced. It started with treatment for injuries, prosthetic limbs for amputees. Over time we began computerising these artificial crutches, instilling in them the ability to overcome the loss of what was natural. Eventually, we harnessed this technology to not just replace, but to enhance.

Healthy subjects would mutilate their own arms and legs in order to receive the cybernetic implants. Soon entirely untrained runners were winning the races and new records were set daily for speed, height and strength. The power of our intellect was such that this process took years rather than decades. Within such a short time, we were unable to properly understand what we had unleashed. Once again we went faster, higher, stronger and the population rushed to embrace these new developments with euphoric impatience.

The plague was inevitable. The introduction of foreign entities to our bodies was a recipe for disaster and soon the natural began to reject the mechanical. The death toll from these implants rose into the billions, but still we continued to inflict these devices on ourselves. We were content that a year or two of regained greatness was worth the cost of an early grave.

It was not. Our cities emptied and we were on the verge of extinction when the Concordium found us. The Emperor Apovlitos, may his flame burn forever bright, devoted his entire scientific budget to helping us find a cure for this self inflicted ailment. It did not take long. The answer was to be found on our own planet, a fairly common bluish stone we had found no use for, one we called Pandorite.

This, when refined in Concordium labs, became a medicine familiar throughout known space; Pandeus. When taken, it placates our natural response and allows for proper integration of cybernetic technologies into our bodies.

Once Pandeus came into widespread use, the death rate plummeted. While our longevity never recovered to previous levels, we have been able to rediscover some of the lost spark of divinity within us all. We, as a race, continue to aspire to go faster, higher and stronger.

Has this come with its own price? Naturally. Life is too harsh a mistress to allow such power to come freely. There must be a cost, a sacrifice. Our hair begins to fall out, and what is left takes on luminous colours as our bodies seek an outlet for the toxins. Our skin takes on an unhealthy pallor and our eyes sink into our faces.

Of course, the worst effect is the one with which I opened this story with. Pandeus is highly addictive and once a dose is prescribed recipients must plan to take it for the rest of their lives. The base consequence of this is negligible, for without it our bodies would once again reject the implants we put into ourselves and death would soon follow.

Unfortunately Pandeus is of such an addictive nature that one craves more and more of the drug, far more than is required for the maintenance of the cybernetics. Most Charian planets and colonies have procedures in place to cope with the base necessity for survival. It is the craving, however, which causes the true problems. The drug itself is not cheap and it is often difficult to acquire additional doses legally. Black markets spring up to meet the demand and with this comes all the accompanying criminality.

So, before you judge the next Charian you see on the street, remember this story. Remember who the Charians once were and who they dream to be again. Then ask yourself, wouldn’t you do the same?

Pandeus;

Pan-deus [pan dee-uh s]

Noun;

All-gods: Charian drug enabling cybernetic implants.

Abbreviation;

Pan, Dust, D.

Darshana wonders when do they stop being a Charian, and become something else?

- Darshana

Democratic Republic of Valearia

The majority of Charians live under direct Gervian rule, and despite the Ursians best efforts to grant them a greater degree of independence, seem to be quite satisfied with this arrangement. This is a legacy of the union between Gervian and Charian governments when the Concordium was first founded. Since the First War of Oppression and the Ursian intervention, the Charians have once again been urged to develop their own central authority although the actual success of this has been questionable.

Charians are, on the whole extremely individualistic, they prefer, instead, to be left to their own devices and to be allowed to pursue their own schemes without interference. As such, they are quite willing to allow those with a greater interest in politics and governance to take the lead, even if those individuals are not a Charian.

The result is a system of government which is staffed predominantly by Gervian bureaucrats with very limited actual power. Although they do maintain a monopoly on violence (the police and army are state maintained), the rest is privatised. As such, many companies choose to incorporate under Charian law, being well able to thrive in the environment of virtually zero regulation. Some of the largest corporations in Concordium space are those that deal in Cybernetic technologies.

The only place in which Charians themselves are really invested is the very powerful Administration Supervising the Handling of Enhancement Strategy (ASHES). This pseudo-governmental body is responsible, not only for the regulation and development of new cybernetics, but also functions as the sole legitimate supplier and distributor of Pandeus.

To its supporters, the Democratic Republic of Valearia is the very embodiment of laissez faire government, while its detractors argue that it is simply the legitimate front for a Gervian puppet state.

Traveller's Log Entries

Unlikely Partnership

by Gareth Kay

“Why would you help me?” Aelius growled, leaning forward and holding his lighter protectively before him, his thumb twitching on the ignition.

“Gratitude?” the Charian replied with a low chuckle. He remained hidden in the shadows of the room, sitting at a desk the lamp aimed at their visitor. Before him was an empty seat, behind which the Gervian stood guardedly.

“How can I trust that? I don’t even know you!” came the reply, a note of stress in the voice.

“Oh but you do...” the Charian leant forward then, bringing his face into the light.

Read More

Xalen with grandson Doros (Fall From Grace, image by James Goudie)

Fall From Grace

by Bojan Sekulic

Charian Colony Aleena III

"So beautiful, so serene," Xalen muttered as she watched the sun rising over the horizon. From the balcony where she stood everything seemed so simple. So peaceful. So godly. For a few brief moments the old Charian scientist allowed herself to close her eyes and took a deep breath. Slowly her hand went down to the pocket of her clothes. The moment her weary fingers made contact with the small piece inside her pocket an almost childish smile graced her face. She withdrew it, and her smile widened; it meant the world to her. The green glow slowly pulsated, its low hum adding to her sense of serenity. Many cycles had come and gone since she and her team found it, but even now she knew she was holding a piece of eternity in her hands. A piece of history. A piece of greatness.

Read More