A bleak Dark Age hangs over Humankind's civilizations for a thousand years. A haunted era of lurking demons, rotted empires, wars, and pirates. The age of Pandora; and the demons are swarming for the final slaughter. A mad Overlord and a Cyborg Super-spy gather collection of rogues from across the galaxy to face the onslaught alone.
Dragonfly- Aircar Tech Noir: Escape from Deneb IV
You were a champion aircar racer, once, Billions cheered across the galaxy as you took the Chrysalis Isla cup. That was a long time ago. Now you're holed up in a warehouse in the Pink District at Deneb IV, beholden to the Paramon Mob and they just got into something deep. You're not really sure what's going down, but they're busy with damage control and it's the first chance you've had in a couple years to escape the warehouse. Make a run from them. You'll have no one to turn to. Not the authorities, the Transhuman Overlords, they'll be after you too. It's a dark age in the galaxy, and you're deep in its darkest corners. But you can pilot. You flew in the Baal Wars with the Plieadian Royal Aircore. You raced in the most glamorous competitions in the galaxy.
This is your chance, Buck. Your chance to ESCAPE FROM DENEB IV
Winteroud Sole is a creature of the sixth sense; an empath able to read the quantum echoes of a place and relive past events in real time. Of an Aristocratic family from the Pleiades, he tours the galaxy in his Star Yacht the "Lord Kesey", witnessing to us the events of the Age of Pandora; a miniseries of 12 episodes for cable.
An Empath? Its a thing that rolls in ashes.
Dreams in shadow lands.
Drinks toasts with the dead.
Hears their shocked tears with each turning of derelict worlds spinning celestial threads crying "Gone, gone, all... is...gone"
-Winteroud Sole, Caldris
New Galen 4101
Scaling the crest of a ragged, dusty ridge, Winteroud Sole glared at the burnt vestiges of the city.
His awful empathic sense howled unmercifully through his mind. Impressions assailed him; lives of people who'd lived here like echoes on a holoscreen speaking unfinished phrases over and over. He steadied his resolve.
"I am a scientist," he whispered to himself.
He looked to his recording droid, who, though not expensive, was astute enough to perceive Winterouds anxiety at the sight.
"Rather grim, Sir." The chromium skinned android offered coolly.
"What happened here?" Sole said involuntarily.
Even his droid understood the hyperbole. "We shall be the first to chronicle that assessment." it said in dry consolation...