Stars of Charon

By Sam Coulson

Scientists thought that nothing could survive the terraforming process. But when the chemical fires of creation swept across the surface of Eridani III, something survived. Elicio, a young man with twisted memories of alien lives long past rises from the ashes of the reforged world. With the fate of a colony in the balance, Eli is thrust into an adventure that takes him across the stars in a race to solve the mystery of his origins.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sam Coulson
• Release date: Sep 2, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370324743

Sam Coulson

Sam is a novelist who spends his weekdays as a professional writer works in the Government and Technology industry. He spends his evenings and weekends imagining other worlds. A native of California, he has traveled widely, and currently lives among the trees in Northern Virginia just outside of Washington D.C.His just recently published Book 2 of the Legacy of the Thar'esh series: Moons of Mitara

Book preview

Chapter 1.

Simple, primal, inexplicable pain. Every organic inch of me was frozen solid, melted into to vapor, and flash-forged into something new a million times a second. The chemical fires roared around me in the dark as the final war raged out under the light of the sun. The air charged with cracks of lightning and the thick scent of sulfur. The winds of the apocalypse blew across the blue-green forests. They devoured the tideless oceans and the freshly plowed fields. Far above me, on the surface of the world, my family, my friends, the trees, and the beasts were ground into dust by the torrent.

And then, as the wind continued to blow, the dust was lifted and remade.

I was left with sensation only. And without thought there was no time. Only agony, and the agony was infinite. It took my body from me. It held my memories up as if written on a glass, and shattered every moment of my life into fragments that rained down around me. It was the end of a world, and I alone lived through the fires of the apocalypse.

And then, after time unknown, the apocalypse ended. But I remained.

There was no light when I awoke.

At first I thought there was nothing but the directionless dark.

Slowly, my mind returned.

I could think.

Feel.

Reason.

I knew which way was up. I knew that I was lying on large, smooth, stone. Cold. Yes. It was cold. I moved my fingers and toes, arms and legs. My body was responsive and lithe. I fit into it perfectly, but there was foreignness to the movements. My legs bent as they should. I stretched and flexed and felt my muscles respond readily and automatically. Like the varied components of a mill, or the perfectly aligned mechanics of a clock. My body did what it should, but I couldn’t understand quite how.

I sat up and pulled my legs under me. I felt the elasticity of soft skin stretch over my knees. It was an odd sensation, one that I knew I had never felt before. But still, I could recall nothing else.

I sat in the dark trying to gather the few slivers of my memories that were still whole enough to grasp. Words were the first thing to come to me. As the sounds formed in my mind I used my tongue to give them shape, but they all sounded wrong. The deep vibration of consonants that echoed in my mind were slurred and ugly as my tongue tripped over the forms.

I do not know how long I sat there in the darkness, making silly noises and marveling at how my muscles moved. I do not believe I slept. Though my body felt new and untried, it knew its business. I could stand, walk, and balance on one foot. My mind recalled the world around me. I knew I was deep in a complex of caverns.

My throat was dry and the soft skin on my lips was cracked and parched. The taste in the back of my mouth was bitter and acidic. I was thirsty. Very thirsty. I heard the trickle of water in the distance, and I crawled slowly in the dark to find the outlet. I tasted the water. Somewhere in my mind, I knew from the taste that it was clean and safe to drink. Time passed, and as it did, I knew that the wrenching pain in my stomach was hunger. I’m not sure if I should call it intuition or instinct, but I knew that if I followed the stream to its source it would take me out of the caves to the surface where I could find something to eat.

So I climbed. Climbing out of the cave was easier than I expected. As I followed the sound of water, a dim and distant light began to illuminate my path. I found my body was agile. My arms were strong. The strength felt like it was part of a dream; an old man’s long forgotten memory. When I encountered a steep slab of stone, I found that the tips of my fingers and toes could easily find a hold. My arms were able to swiftly pull me up. My fingernails and toenails were black with mud. It felt good.

As I leapt from stone to stone, I felt an incredible freedom, as if someone had loosed bindings from my feet and hands. I knew a word for what I was feeling: it was youth. I knew I had felt this way before, but the memory was old, so, so very old.

Chapter 2.

The memories come unexpectedly, like the bite of a small piece of glass that gets stuck in the sole of your foot. When I try to ignore them it only delays the inevitable. Their intensity grows like smoke, smothering my mind. Sooner or later I must stop and face the shades.

Sometimes they are images: a blue-tinged sunset in a soft gray sky, or the stars sliding across the night. Other times a tune will fill my head. I try to whistle or hum but my tongue and mouth cannot mimic the sounds. Other times I hear voices that are alien to my ears and mind. I see faces that are, pale, grotesque and frightening. But when I look closer, the faces fade into shapelessness. Like shadows cast across an uneven stone.

Always, the memories are more than just images and sounds. They are full of muddled and chaotic feelings. A joyful song inexplicably brings me to weep. The image of a desolate plain of green-crystal sand leaves me longing for something lost that I can never find or even remember. The dark faces with dim purple eyes, and thick calloused skin make my blood rush and my face flush red with physical desire.

There is an echo of something else deep inside me.

I clearly remember my first step from the cave into the light of dawn. The mountains in the distance were familiar. I knew the jutted points of each of the seven peaks. Their shapes made me feel safe. I saw the sea to the west, calm and still on a moonless world. The lines were familiar and comforting. Still, things were out of place. There was a thick grove of deep green trees where I expected to see light blue grasslands. The vast river delta in the distance leading to the sea was eerily empty and vacant. The birds in the sky make strange calls.

As I blinked, images bled through. For a fleeting moment I saw a village. It had low-profile buildings, half buried in the turf. The walls and roofs were made of beautifully polished greyish-blue wood. Above the buildings were banners in the air, shadows of figures walking, and lumbering creatures in the field. My heart leapt and I started to move toward it, but the ghosts left as quickly as they came. All that was left was an empty field with shallow waves of deep green grasses.

The opening to the cave I had come through was a narrow natural cleft, hidden in the shadows of large stone on the slope. As I stood on the verge of the cleft and looked out, the world around me was a paradox: familiar yet foreign. It was as if I were returning to somewhere I had once lived, but someone else had moved in, gotten a new table, and turned the bed against the other wall. The vague familiarity of the place felt ancient and unsettling.

I did not like the sensation.

I took a few steps into the light and looked down at my reflection in a pool of water. My eyes were almond shaped, and skin was tan with a pinkish hue. My eyes were cloudy green, and a wild growth of short sandy-blonde hair sat untamed upon my head. The face I saw was unfamiliar. Though I couldn’t conjure an image of myself in my mind, I knew that the face looking up at me from the still water was not my own.

My stomach growled, reminding me of my hunger. I shaded my eyes and started to look around. I was standing on a hill. Below me at its base was a dense stand of trees with a broad river running through it. I could see a flock of birds flying from limb to limb. At the edge of the forest there were few bushes with what looked like berries. I set off hungrily toward them.

I was halfway down the slope when I heard something roaring over the western horizon.

Though moments ago I had been driven by clenching hunger, the deep and otherworldly rumble made my hunger seem distant and small. Fear and awe weighed down my feet. The sound came from behind the little hill where I stood, heading toward where the delta met the sea. It started as a low growl in the distance and grew into a roar like thunder. Unlike the stone of the cave, the sound of water, and the shape of the mountains, which had a veiled aura of familiarity, the thunder and fire in the sky was like nothing I had ever seen or heard before.

I stood with my wide eyes transfixed on the shape as the minutes passed. The entire sky grew louder and brighter as the mass of silver and thunder slid across the sky, leaving a wind-swept path of smoke in its wake. As it passed directly overhead it was low enough that I felt the searing flames. My naked body flushed red from the heat as I scurried to the nearest rock to shield myself from the worst of the heat. My nakedness made me feel weak and insignificant.

The birds were nowhere to be seen.

As the thing passed I could see that at its head was a shining cylinder sliding on its side with a tail of fire and a path of smoke. It slowed. Smoke was everywhere, and fire spewed from it like geysers in all directions as it slowly descended on a flat stretch of grassland at the heart of the lowland delta, the fires grew as the thing lowered. The grasses beneath it were incinerated and the soil turned to ash. Finally, after a slow, smoking, lumbering decent, it came to rest in the middle of the lowland field.

The fires went out and the smoke cleared. It had landed some distance from me, further down the grade. It was huge and angular. I could see that it wasn’t all silver. There were paintings and symbols along the sides, and a series of onyx-black panels around the sharp point that seemed to be the front of it. It was not a meteor or stone. The shapes, the lines, were too clean and purposeful to be natural. Something in my memory named it. A ship. I recalled a small sailing vessel floating on an ocean, driving forward under the power of the wind and sun. But this was a ship of the sky, not of the sea.

The grasses were still smoldering when the ship’s smooth silver sides began to split apart and open. Great lumbering machines, black and silver, groaned and began to spill out of the fire-ship in every direction like insects from a nest. Among the huge metallic shapes, I saw people. Most wore dark blue, and I could see the color of their faces and their hands: shades of tan and olive. I looked down at my own hands and legs. Whoever they were, they were something like me. But I wondered: if they are like me then why did they look so strange and so unlike the faces and images in my mind?

Forgetting my hunger, I hid and watched. The morning hours passed, and the fire-ship continued to empty. Eventually, the largest of the machines began to return, leaving huge crates and people behind. The people drew back beyond the ring of blackened grasses.

It was midday when the fires began again. The fire-ship disappeared behind smoke and flame until it began to rise swiftly into the air. After a few deafening moments, it was gone, leaving a streak of smoke drifting off into the sky. The smoke faded, and a tribe of people and piles of equipment was left behind. I crouched lower in my hiding place, afraid, and watched them late into the night.

I awoke the next morning to the sound of voices. One was high pitched, the other low. I tried to listen to the words, but the sounds rose and fell without meaning. Their voices were soft and nasal like my own.

I lay without moving under the bush where I had fallen asleep the night before. They were somewhere behind me. Maybe I was lucky and hadn’t been discovered. I cautiously opened my eyes to see if I was in danger, and if escape was possible.

I slowly turned my head to see the two shapes speaking with animated gestures and angry intensity. The one with the low voice had slick black hair, and was the taller of the two by a hand span. His face was red, and he held some sort of weapon in his left hand. The other had a slight build and long brown hair, and small, quick, shifting feet. Though her hands were empty, the larger of the two seemed to back away from her as they argued.

The exchange was intense, and they didn’t seem to notice me. I quietly began to move backwards, as silently as I could, not taking my eyes off of them. Crawling face-up on all-fours on my heels and hands, I moved slowly toward the deeper forest.

I’d made it about seven meters when my hand landed on something cold and metallic. I turned to see the shining tip of a steel-toed boot.

Eh-hem, a voice above me was dry and rumbling.

I looked up to see another person. A man. Tall. Greying. Muscular. He had an air of authority.

The two who had been arguing were immediately silenced as they looked over and saw me, huddled at the other’s feet, naked. The newcomer spoke toward me, his tone was questioning, his stance aggressive. Further off, the slight one laughed. The sound was harsh and mocking.

Again, the voice of authority spoke. After three short words, the other two fell silent. I looked back up at him as he reached down to his belt, drew out a smooth object, and pointed it at me. I saw a flash of light followed by darkness.

I awoke in a firm bed with stiff, starched sheets, surrounded by motion and voices. Soothing, quiet voices. I tried to sit up but the movement was cut short with a static crackle as I struck something I could not see. I opened my eyes but saw nothing but open air in front of me but a stark white ceiling. Again, I tried to lift my arm slowly, ten centimeters, twelve, fourteen, sixteen-the air crackled again and an unseen force pushed my hand back down.

Now, now, the voice was reassuring. I looked to see another face wreathed with long brown hair and soft, caring eyes. Her smile put me at ease.

She continued to talk. Her speech was slow and kind. As she gestured toward things, I was able to discern the meanings of some of her words: bed, hospital, blankets, drinks, and force field. Her name was Kella.

She reached through a segment of the force field and pushed a small device against my arm. There was a small click and I felt a pinch of pressure on my arm.

Sleep, she said.

And I slept.

Chapter 3.

I was a child, small, hobbling, fresh on my feet. The shadows that watched me were protective. Most of the interesting objects in the room were frustratingly high and out of my reach. I smelled something sweet wafting on the air, and instinctively followed the scent. There was a fire going in the far end of the room with a large pot slung over it. Steam was rising from the pot.

My mind was filled with singular intent as I began to walk toward it. My childish steps were small and clumsy as I toddled. Closer. Closer. My mouth was watering as I got near the source of the sweet scent. I was mere paces away when I was swiftly lifted into the air by a firm and protective arm. I made a sound in frustration as I was hauled back to the far side of the room. The faceless shadow that had grabbed me set me back down, handed me a wood-carved bird, and patted me gently on the head before turning away.

I woke up confused. I strained to sort out my dreams from my memories. I was still lying in the bed. I recalled my hunger on the day I left the cave, and remembered watching the ship come, leave the people and machines behind, and go. I’d been hiding in the forest and had found some berries on a bush, and hungrily eating them by the handful, and then, later that night, the horrible pain, like a stone in my stomach, leaving me in agony throughout the night until, eventually I slept. I remembered the voices. The three people in the forest, and then Kella’s face. Whoever they were, the people from the sky were taking care of me.

Though my body was strong and young, I felt weak. I listened as other patients and doctors spoke. The doctors wore white coats, and the patients, like me, wore thin blue gowns. Often they would come and stand over me as I hovered between waking and sleeping. I listened, and as I listened, the words connected to meanings in my mind, and I began to see the patterns in the language.

They said that my stomach wasn’t functioning. Though my organs were in order, my liver was fine, my pancreas was healthy. Scans showed my gallbladder was normal. Whatever a gallbladder was. The problem was that my organs were just sitting there. They weren’t storing, creating, and transporting the insulin and bile that my body needed to break down foods and function. The doctors kept me alive with injections. Whether the medication kept me drowsy, or if my condition denied me energy I wasn’t sure. But I could do little but lie there and exist in the moments between waking and sleeping. I watched. I listened. And I thought.

As they tried treatment after treatment, I found that I wasn’t a prisoner, not quite. After a time, they extended the force field around my bed so that I could prop myself up and sit. Though the doctors were kind, but I could sense they were all being cautious around me. I never spoke, and was so weak I could barely move. I don’t know if I could have spoken even if I was brave enough to try. I wasn’t being guarded. But I was closely observed. I gathered that I wasn’t a prisoner. I was a mystery.

One morning I awoke to see a sea of faces surrounding my bed.

Approximately 16 years old, human male, one of the doctors announced with a brisk staccato tone. He was a small man with a bald head that the others called Chen. Genetic tests say he’s 100 percent Earthborn genome. So he’s no hybrid. Generally healthy, strong muscle tone, heartbeat and blood pressure. The primary issue is that the patient’s bile-producing organs, stomach, and digestive system are non-functioning.

Did you say ‘non-functioning’? It was the gravel-voiced older man who had found me on the edge of the forest.

Um, well, yes sir, Chen responded, flustered. You may recall that when you found him he’d been eating raspberries. At first we thought it was food poisoning or an allergy, maybe something wrong with the terraforming. But the berries are fine. We tested them. I even ate a few myself. I conducted a full allergy panel, but it came back negative. The issue is that when he ate and swallowed them they just sat there in his stomach. It was a bit of a mess. The berries began to rot, and there was an infection. We had to pump his stomach to clean it out then flush him with antibiotics. But we still haven’t managed to address the root cause. We are trying a variety of treatments to stimulate proper organ activity and jump-start his system. Until then, we’re injecting nutrients directly in his bloodstream to sustain him.

Do we know why? the other man asked.

Why his system isn’t functioning? Chen shifted, avoiding eye contact. No sir. Our guess is that he was in a ship that crash landed before we arrived. Most of us believe that he may have been in some kind of stasis pod, and that the revival protocols weren’t followed properly. That would possibly explain why his organs are healthy, but dormant.

Scans haven’t found any signs of a wreck, or stasis pods, the older man said bluntly.

As I said, it’s our hypothesis, Chen replied. Medically, stasis is the only thing that seems to make sense. They could have crashed into the ocean, or the river, or somewhere deeper in the mountains.

The older man paused, considering.

He looked down at me intently. You, where did you come from? he asked.

Oh, sir, Chen broke in. He doesn’t speak. Though our scans show that he has high level of brain activity, we don’t think he is cognizant or cogent enough to understand what is going on around him. Whatever happened to him, it left him in a severe state of shock.

Not cognizant or cogent? the old man chuckled. Look at his eyes Chen. He may not be responding, but he’s far from catatonic. No, he’s choosing not to respond. I’ve seen men in shock. Their eyes have a glazed unfocused intensity, but not his. Oh he’s cogent alright. If I were him and had been lost, naked and confused, and found by some strangers on a newly minted Eden, I’d be playing dumb too.

He disengaged the force field and leaned over me, his chin was covered by a layer of grey stubble.

So, enough of your silence boy. Speak. How did you get here? He questioned me with the quiet and self-assured intensity of a man who was not used to being disobeyed.

So I spoke.

I, I don’t know how I came to be here, I’d been working on shaping the sounds of the language quietly at night, I may have muddled the words, but the man seemed to understand.

See there? The old man grinned with self-satisfaction as he stood back up. Alright lad, well we’ll sort you out in time. For now, you need a name. The entire settlement is calling you ‘Twig and Berries,’ and I thought you would want something a bit more dignified.

Name. I hadn’t asked myself the question of what my name was. I searched my mind, and tried to sort through the shadows and fragments of my memories. One idea came, so I made it into a sound.

Elicio, I spoke the name like a question.

Elicio? The man considered a moment and shrugged. That’s a new one, but it’s as good as any. I’m Lee McCullough.

You’re the chief? I responded.

You could call it that, Lee answered. Though officially I am the Governor of this colony, I prefer just Lee.

I nodded my head up and down, a gesture I had seen the nurses use. He nodded and patted my shoulder, the warmth of his touch lingered.

Elicio, hmm, that’s much better than Twig and Berries. When we found you, you were confused, frightened, starving and alone on a freshly terraformed rock a few dozen light years from the closest civilized starsystem. The MineWorks Corporation just cleared this place for habitation, so you couldn’t have been here long. He paused watching me intently as he spoke, searching for signs of recognition. I contacted the MineWorks orbital monitoring crew just before they left, they were adamant that there hadn’t been any anomalies, and that no other ship, aside from our own and the three other colony dropships, had been seen in system. Yet, here you are. And here I am, charged with helping the 1,934 colonists in this town to secure, build, and survive.

My mind was absorbing his words: terraforming, corporationcolonists. All of them were unfamiliar to me.

So, you see I have a bit of a conundrum, Lee continued. When I was in the Protectorate Fleet, I had one rule: simple is safe. If you avoid complications, anomalies, and mysteries, you avoid problems. You, you’re a mysterious complex anomaly. The trifecta of bad luck. So I’m going to ask you this question once and only once: where did you come from?

I...I.

There was something dangerous in his placid calm. Lee was not a man to trifle with, but somehow, I felt there was also something in him I could trust. He exuded self-control. As my mind reeled in fear and uncertainty, his confidence drew me in like a moth to the flame. I couldn’t help but trust him.

The first thing I remember is pain, horrible pain, and then I woke up and walked out of the cave. I don’t know how long I wandered, hours. Maybe more. But then I saw the fire from your ship, your colony ship. I saw it come down and land. I started to go toward it, but I was afraid and tired and hungry. So I hid watching you. Then I fell asleep and woke up to those others arguing, then you found me.

And that’s all? Nothing before? Your home world, your family? Nothing?

Nothing that makes sense, I responded slowly. I have memories, but they are strange and broken into bits and pieces. A valley with blue-green grass, a village on a river, and grey sunsets. But not much else.

Blue-green grasses, grey sunsets. Could be one of a dozen worlds across either the Earthborn Protectorate or the Domari Collective. He considered me for a long moment. I held his gaze. I wondered if he knew I was holding back. I dared not mention that the village in my memory was on the very spot where we now sat, and that the edge of the forest where they had found me had been a field of blue-green grasses.

Could the Draugari have had him? The voice belonged to Kella, the nurse who had sedated me when I first arrived.

The Draugari? Lee repeated with a scoff. We are a long way from Draugari raiding territory. What makes you ask that, any signs?

No, she responded. Nothing physical if that’s what you mean. No scars or cuts. I’ve just heard stories.

The Draugari may be half-human savages, Lee responded. But they fight with honor of a kind. Abduction isn’t their way.

Yes, well, Chen interrupted, gesturing Kella to the side, moving in front of her so that he stood between her and Lee. It was a theory. For now though, I can say that the boy seems normal by all measures. Aside from the non-functioning organs, that is.

Very well, Lee straightened up and prepared to leave. We can make it 1,935. Chen, do what you need to do to jumpstart his system. I know our supplies are limited, but if you need to use some of the synthetics to replace his organs, do it. He may not be telling us everything he knows, but I don’t see any harm in young Elicio here. He has a strong back and a quick enough mind, both of which are things we need. Give him a Slate and access to the archives, maybe it will help jog his memories.

He turned back to me, When the docs have you up and ready, we’ll put you to work. You can stay, but you will have to carry your share.

And he was gone.

Chapter 4.

"Beyond the stars?" It was my own voice speaking through the shroud of a memory.

"No, not beyond them. To them. The stars do not just hang above us as if on a sheet. Look at them. Some are brighter, some are darker, some rise, some fall. No, they do not hang above us like a tent, or dome us like a roof, they are out there, each independent, flaming as distant from each other as they are from us."

I stopped and pondered the thought while my teacher poured another steaming cup for us to share.

"No, there is more out there beyond our own sky. There are worlds and people. Some may be sitting as we are now, looking from the other side of those stars. Who knows, Elicio, there may be creatures out there who have learned to leap beyond the mountains, bounding from star to star, and world to world. Some may be good and kind, others may be driven by a ravenous need to devour and destroy. But they are out there."

"You really believe that?"

"Yes, yes I do. Our people have memories, tired and ancient memories, which some teachers are charged to carry and guard. They are the stories of our people, handed down through generations. Some of them are memories of flying through the stars."

"Will you tell me?"

My teacher smiled and patted my hand gently, perhaps someday Eli, those will be your stories to know, but not today. It’s not a story to be told with words. It’s a part of the Charon. The Charon is a memory legacy, which is fully formed and whole, and passed on only in death. A Charon is a story that is told all in one gulp rather than tiny sips. Perhaps someday you will be the one to take my place as teacher and carry mine on. But, that day is not today. Now we must continue your lessons—

The Slate was a fine thing. Kella brought it to me after Lee left and explained how I should use it. It had thin transparent screen, like glass, and fit easily into my hands. The Slate responded to the slightest touch of my finger and the sound of my voice. I could ask it anything and it would show me the answer. Learning the letters of the language came to me easily. I began to study the words and names that I’d heard since coming here.

I said Lee’s name and it showed me his picture. The photo was some time ago, Lee was a young man, uniformed and unsmiling. Enlisted in the Earthborn Protectorate in 2409. Assigned to Alpha Centauri regional garrison in 2414, decorated for bravery at the battle of Alpha Centauri in 2419, demoted to Lieutenant Commander 2426. Retired 2427. 2432, contracted to be Governor of MineWorks Corporation’s Eridani III colony.

Eridani III colony, I said quietly.

As I did, Lee’s picture disintegrated and reformed into the shape of a planet. There were nine large and irregularly shaped green and brown landforms surrounded by a deep blue-green ocean. I slid my finger over the image and the planet spun on its axis. I tapped again and the image came to an abrupt halt, an additional window expanded and hovered above the image:

Eridani III: Class M planet, 23 EH/D, 432 ED/Y, gravity near Earth normal. Initial environmental scans indicated atmosphere breathable, native vegetation minimal and protein structure uncertain. Biological scan and observational protocols bypassed by approval of MineWorks Senior Vice Presidential of Advanced Projects and Analysis group, Mr. Hoonan Growd.

Notes: Upon initial survey, Eridani III met all requirements of a Stage 3 terraformed world, and was determined to be an optimal target for terraforming at minimal cost. Technicians instituted Stage 4 terraforming procedures to ensure maximum success of colonization. Biochemical terraforming operations executed to replace native flora with Earth-standard vegetation, and seed Earth-standard fauna using an accelerated 15-year growth cycle condensed into a two week treatment.

Terraforming completed 4.3.2432 and Authorized for immediate colonization to support refugees from the sixth planet of the Lagrange system, which was deemed unsafe for continued habitation resulting from unintentional industrial pollutants being released into the atmosphere.

Terraformed. I’d heard that word before, something Lee had said. My hands shook as the realization slowly began took hold. I closed my eyes again and saw flashes of blue-green fields, the strange alien faces, the quiet city settled on the delta.

Terraforming, I spoke, this time my voice was barely more than a whisper.

The Slate’s screen changed again, illustrating the scientific process of terraforming:

Earthborn Terraforming is achieve through the execution of four discrete stages (Note: full four-stage terraforming is prohibitively expensive and rarely executed, most terraforming occurs on uninhabited worlds that already meet the base-environmental requirements for later terraforming stages to reduce associated costs and time delays.)

Stage 1 Magnetic Shielding: An expensive and difficult process of charging the planetary core to create a magnetic shield which protects the planet from solar winds and other interstellar phenomena. A variety of methods are used involving large scale orbital operations and intensive sonic manipulation to optimize the planetary core environment. Prohibitively expensive and rarely employed. Process may take up to ten years.

Stage 2 Atmospheric Balancing and Climatization: Terraformers use large-scale deployable and reusable surface factory modules to process existing gasses and generate carbon, nitrogen and oxygen to build an earth-standard breathable atmosphere. During this stage robotic workers may be used to locate and unlock (thaw when frozen, or chemically create when necessary) liquid water for the planet. In some extreme circumstances, asteroids containing vital minerals and/or frozen water are diverted to the planet to provide a rich source for liquid water. Process typically takes between four and twelve years.

Stage 3 Carbon Seeding: An Earth Standard terraformed world requires an abundant source of carbon, often in the form of biomass. When a terraformed world lacks native vegetation and carbon deposits, large amounts of carbon is imported in the form of biological waste, and deposited throughout the planet. Depending on available shipping resources and proximity to nearby carbon sources, this process may take from two years, to several decades.

Stage 4 Environmental Optimization: Environmental Optimization (EO) process is the final stage in the terraforming process, only instituted after the magnetic field is established, an Earth-standard atmosphere is in place, and adequate liquid water and carbon exist on the surface. The EO process uses a series of high-atmosphere explosives to disperse aggressive viral nano-genes throughout the planet. The nano-genes perform restructuring of all carbon-based material, seeding the planet with earth-standard flora and fauna. By drawing upon a full genetic library of balanced earth-born genetic options, this process is able to rapidly disperse and provide an incubated growth period, aging all plant life fifteen years within the short period of the EO. After the process is complete, usually in two to three weeks for standard sized worlds, the planet will be fully vegetated.

After the flora is seeded, the terraforming ship will then seed the world with cryogenically frozen fauna, including insects, birds, fish, and small animals to populate the newly formed world.

My hands began to shake. I flipped back to re-read the article on Eridani III: "Eridani III met all requirements of a Stage 3 terraformed world, and was determined to be an optimal target for terraforming at minimal cost. Technicians instituted Stage 4 Terraforming procedures..."

I was having