Black Sun Rising

Firefly

It's November, 2518.

The Miranda Wave has just been broadcast.

How will you be changed?

They say Earth-That-Was got all used up a long time ago. Folks were forced to leave or die, so they headed into the Black. Eventually, they found a small star system of planets and moons just ripe for terra forming, and they began to make them their own. It was the United States and the Chinese that led us out there; so the Core planets and the government that was formed to run them bear their mark.  Ya gotta know both languages to get by now.  The Core planets are the center of the Anglo Sino Alliance, but eventually the government and those that wanted no part of it alike moved out into the surrounding systems and colonized more worlds, some lush and green, others nothing more than an empty husk. But, there was some disagreement about who should run ‘em, and how.

A few years back there was a war between the Core planets and the rest of the 'Verse. Seemed a few folks didn’t wanna be ‘unified’ under the government’s clutches.  The Alliance won the war, but their hold over the ‘Verse isn’t quite complete yet.  Both sides thought they were in the right.  Both sides did things no one should have to do, or can be proud of.  And both sides harbor resentment, anger and regrets.  Those who couldn’t stand to live under the new chokehold of the Alliance moved out further away from the Core to eke out a living on some nameless rock, or carve out a living in the Black. 

Things out on the border ain’t so clean or advanced as they are in the Core.  Most of the Rim frontier is a heck of a lot like the old west on Earth That Was.  A mixture of old and new: gunslingers on cattle ranches and the rustlers that want them; horse traders and thieves alike; outlaws and honest folk working and living side by side with new tech and Old World know how.  The Core worlds, well, there ya can find anything and everything, from Chinese temples to high tech towers to opium dens.

What it all boils down to is this: Spaceships, bullets, high tech and low, English and Chinese slang, rustic towns, high tech cities and bogeymen called Reavers. Don't go lookin’ for ‘em, don't mess with ‘em, don't do anything with them or else you end up raped, dead, and eaten with yer skin made into a fancy pair of pants.  And if yer really lucky, it’ll happen in that order.

Got a ship?  Then yer one of the lucky few.   Stay one step ahead of the Alliance, and keep it flying.  If not, do yer best to find a job that suits you, and keep yer gorram head down.