- Dolphin Mechas/biomechanical Suits

- dolphin mechas/biomechanical suits

- telepathy/thought-controlled patterns and technologies mixing water and psychically responsive devices

- “spaceships on earth”, astronaut suits; massive complexes with water, flowing tunnels, exposed pools and canals

- nomads

- mutants

- contemporary yurts with salvaged or desert-constructed vehicles crossing all-terrain, superhighways, stack barrens, etc

- zoological uplifts, emerging society splintered by factions, trying to decide its own fate and direction

- scavenged tech

- stolen machinery

- overgrown structures with open space, caverns and warrens, glinting solar panels, windmills

- ritual colors, brilliant paints, patched patterns

- huge biosphere domes/geodesic hexagonal structures covered in hanging moss, vegetation

- glowing, illuminated internal silos

- primordial sprawling jungle, desolate prehistoric volcanic/gaseous wastelands, misty redwood forests

- huge mushrooms spires, moss, tangled vines and roots, black stone monolithic structures that hum, seamless

- giant bones, fossils

- dinosaurs, pterosaurs, sea reptiles, saurian kaiju

- dinosauroids mixing technological megaliths, hardlight, mechanical ‘scales’, and hardening chitinous material; touch based

-

The Great King was on his march

Legions across the land walked, and shook the Earth in endless droves

Men in paint, decorated by golden rings and chains, tattooed by endless story of honor and the hunt

Women cloaked head to toe, velvet and obsidian, guided not by eyes nor ear, sensing silent spirit rivers

Bronze machines clattering as steam howls from their gear-ladder throats, angry arrows of howling lightning at the ready

War-beasts high as mountains and leviathans who swallow islands, draconian flies turning the skies asunder

The Great King was on his march

And the land shook beneath their passage.

Reptilians/Saurians - Ancient earthly civilization of intelligent dinosaurs. Master manipulators of biology and genetics, dwell mostly underground or in jungle/desert environments. Utilize biotechnological advances made from living organisms, strictly hierarchal and warlike, but honorable, and intelligent.

Architects/Ancients - Mysterious constructors of immense megaliths on Earth, across the System, and across the galaxy. Structures seem to activate for various purposes, and are extremely advanced, almost magical. No one has ever observed an actual Architect..

Elders(?)- Another very old civilization. Considered the progenitors of mankind. Very obviously related to us, and often adopt lofty personas and behaviors to lord over their creations and their worlds. Excessive, gluttonous. Prone to destroying the life they create out of spite when they are surpassed. Essentially vampirish and elvish, but from space.

Formics/Colony/Brood - Galactic locust-horde, wandering across the stars, hungrily consuming all matter to make more of themselves. Live in gigantic swarms of moving converted planets, vessels, asteroids, comets, etc. Despite their seemingly mindless conversion, the Brood demonstrates complex and intelligent behavior that showcases a deep hive-minded structure coupled with intensive, adaptive individual personalities that manifest as exceptional beings within the colonies. These individuals seem separate from the basic drone-worker rank and file with personal behaviors, ornate armor, and more. The amassing of their species on Earth and bizarre defensive structures pointed skyward seem to indicate they’re running from something with a bigger appetite than themselves..

Greys - Small, seemingly cybernetic brings that are known for abductions. Common on Earth, and considered a basic phenomena in the daily lives of people on Earth, even prior to Contact. Small Greys, Tall Greys. While rarer, it is known that an organized, or supposedly militaristic, faction does exist, with uniforms, weapons, and all. Their exact purpose on Earth seems to be hidden from those they take, as it is known and common for Greys to often mislead those they abduct. The immense hatred of Greys by nearly all extraterrestrial factions on Earth seems to speak to some vast, horrid crime or agenda. Huh.

Overlords - Despite the name, Overlords are generally diminutive beings, smaller than the average Homo Sapiens Sapiens. Despite their almost laughable size, Overlords are the ultimate psychic and psionic brings. Their manipulative minds can shatter even the powerful psychological technology of the Greys with utter ease. They are considered nightmarish thought-beings, creatures that harvest the minds and consciousness of intelligent species for nefarious, unthinkable processes that remain unseen in the depths of their labyrinthine configurations. It is known that beyond them is a colossal apparatus at work across the cosmos, hungrily draining the terrors, thoughts, and minds of every thinking world in their path..

Automatons/Machinations/Constructs - The churning clanking and clattering of these living devices is an unsettling roar across the most desolate regions of the Earth. No one actually knows how, or when, or why these mechanisms have manifested on Earth. Their complex, orbiting, flowing metal-light bodies crackle with lightning and plasma. They bear weapons that can effectively, completely erase one from existence, particle by particle. Their structures gnaw at spacetime; clockwork fortresses that summon colossal automaton lords. As of now, everyone leaves these guys alone.

Aurora/Essences - Living energy beings, and worshipped by crystal-clutching clergies and cults. Although they’ve got a quirky following, the Auroras are essentially harmless wanderers, living and thinking particle winds that have seen billions and billions of worlds across immense eons.

Nordics/Arayans - Bone-pale, beautiful, immortal blonde haired people from beyond the stars. And genocidal annihilators who gifted Nazi Germany horrific weaponry against the Allies. When they finally learned of the defeat of their Earthly Champions, the Nordics decided they would finish the job Adolf couldn’t. Their lyrical, lovely voices are simply a poetic distraction from their omnicidal campaign they’ve carried out across the Orion Arm. Currently, they occupy much of Russia, working with the secretive Fourth Reich to eliminate all unclean from the Urals to Siberia. Extremely wanted war criminals by the Federation.

Atlanteans/Lemurians - Magical, prehistoric precursor humanity who dwells on sunken continents in the Indian and Atlantic oceans. Their technology manipulates the fundamental physical structure of water and ice, remaining unseen (and undisturbed) for millennia on the Earth.

Imperials/Royals - A collection of alien races from around the Milky Way currently in a severe civil war after the split between their Empire (the Void Emperor) and a ruthless royal family (The Line of Cygnus). Most species are non-human, and non-humanoid as well, via their origination outside of the Creator Sphere. The Royal Occupation of Earth has actively manipulated numerous earthly nations to support their battle against the Empire, promising technological magic and “enlightenment” for genetic material, resources, et all. Meanwhile, the Empire occupies a portion of at least every major body in the Solar System, almost laughably massive, but hasn’t attacked yet. Bureaucratic talks with the Federation continue.

Federation - Another collection of interstellar aliens. A well-to-do and extremely altruistic, but commanding, organization that does its best to manage galactic affairs. While their actions may be slow via lengthy paperwork and diplomatic organizing, the Federation is no laughing matter when it comes to business. Many galactic forces of serious ability defer to the Federation, and countless alien factions on Earth have come to at least attempt to respect the might of the Federation. Humanity generally likes these guys.

Holy Terror - A fanatical religious nightmare that slips through the Galaxy aboard gigantic, gothic Cathedral-Ships. Damp, gnarled interiors illuminated by black fire burning candles. Hallowed tremors echo, the music of terrible choirs. The religion of these horrid beings is poorly understand, but one thing is known: they will convert your civilization, or erase it. Conversion is a horrific process of mutilation, parasitic infestation, and outright consumption by undying powers housed deep in the bowels of those grotesque vessels. Erasure is equally brutal, with terrifying abominations unleashed to completely eradicate all life. The Fleet at Earth is said to be commanded by their God itself, and by the foul, obsidian flames that orbit that behemoth ship: it seems the stories are true..

Blue Sphere Alliance - “Spiritual” aliens who care about consciousness and freedom of their fellow Blue Sphere inhabitants. Funny enough, the Blue Sphere is a reference to a singular location in the Milky Way Galaxy almost entirely inhabited by multiple, intelligent, humanoid aliens. We, and almost all alien factions on Earth, represent natives to the Sphere. The Alliance desperately wishes to rejoin the Creator, the fabled maker of intelligent and humanoid beings in the Galaxy. On Earth, the Alliance is well-liked because of its physical efforts to ensure order and freedom continue to exist. Thanks to their intervention, things like cancer and malaria are memories of the past. Sadly though, war remains. Still working on that one.

Daemons/Demons/Archons - The Nine Archons. The ultimate evil currently present on the planet. Vast, unified hatred that commands a limitless army of demonic horrors who hunger for every soul and mind on Earth. The Dragon Army. Shivering, painful creatures who serve a terrible immensity older than time itself. Their ziggurats loom up out of the Mesopotamian desert, black as night, with gigantic triangular warships. Countess worshippers praise on those endless steps. Human and Alien alike fear what dwells in those leviathan tombs..

Strike the Cannon, man the Missile, sharpen the knives, hail the arrow

Stricken down into Hell, bodies pile and spill, blood deluges to be spilt, women to whore, boys to take from fathers, daughters stolen from crying mothers

Thy come thy fire, fire burn’ in me

Claws and teeth barred, Death blesses me, skin bone pale and hair night black in the night

Whisper to me, guide my blades, bullets, and bombs

Come I do, the Devil himself

Come I do, a Nightmare unending

The ship is a seed. It pushes itself out into the dark on a needlepoint of light, a shaft of lightning between so many stars. So many stars, and many, many more worlds. Dead worlds. The seed cannot grow in their rotten soils, cannot nourish its precious cargo under toxic skies. Making a world livable takes far too long and leaves the caretakers vulnerable, easily picked off from predator or circumstance.

So the seed rushes on through the night.

A long time ago, it’s destination was chosen. A blue and white world hugging a warm, yellow star. Vibrant. Beautiful. It is alien, no doubt— the gravity is heavy, the air a bit thin. A singular, lonesome, lifeless moon dutifully orbits this faraway place. But: it is alive. And that’s all that matters. Changes can be made to something already growing, already in bloom.

So the seed continues. It’s crew hibernates in cavernous interior, a sea of bodies and armor and purpose, sleeping dreamless sleep in an ocean of iron, glass. A crew of warriors and builders, planners and tacticians. Soldiers sprinkled with farmers, engineers. Deeper in the belly of the ship lie faint, pearlescent potentialities that will foster politicians and artists, zealots and masters. When all is ready, when everything is secure, they will emerge under bright, new yellow sunlight.

The machines are awake. From sprawling giants to minuscule scuttlers, they maintain the mission. Moving. Thinking. Changing. This seed has been rebuilt nearly a dozen times in its travel, streamlined and perfected, remodeled to better suit one parameter or another across impossible distance. A journey of many centuries requires such deftness, and so in their cold, beautiful way, the machines do what they must. Even now, as they draw near to a lonesome star, they prepare. Behemoth foundries sift out potential-nothings from the void, weaved and embroidered down to the atoms, into weapons and vehicles. Fortifications kilometers in size are built and grown, assembled in prefabricated pieces for ease of deployment. Silent, shining armies of star-iron await in cavernously dark hangars; ready to set foot on a new world.

The ship is a seed. A gamble. They will never see their homeworld again, never hear of its people. When the soldiers within awake and disembark, they will be alone with only themselves and their task for comfort, for direction. The mission must succeed. It must. The ship is a seed, and it sails through the dark.

Each day, among a backdrop of endless darkness and shimmering cold starlight drops, a point of light grows brighter and brighter..

Map of Mezos Prime.