Editing Marooned's Journal (section)

=Backstory=
The netsphere is silent. Stars shine brightly. The dead-art of stellar drift crushes doubt, and leaves space for darker thoughts: this is Autochthonia no longer. In reckless haste, and against agents of tyranny, the liberation of alchemical exaltations was a mission of paramount importance. But something went wrong. Technology from the time before punched through reality itself, and has left a lone traveller so very far from home.

A ‘rogue’ alchemical, if such a thing can exist. One more concerned with the plight of the people; with the planets underfoot that crumble to ruin – emaciated shells, long since starved for scraps, that devour themselves in desperation. Autochton’s plan is a failure. There never were the resources. He did not bring enough. Or if there ever was, it was squandered by mortal folly. So, it seems, that even Gods can err. And when they sleep away the aeons, they remain oblivious to their failure. Thus, the need – the pressing need! – for action. For heroes to stand against the status quo who use calcified tradition as a substitute for wisdom, and erstwhile reverence as a fig leaf for sin.

But where now, rebel? The cause is a galaxy away, and all maps are dust. The people of Autochthonia still suffer, and still decline – inching ever closer to devastation. But here the people suffer too – from the ravages of war and time, from ignorance, and cruelty. With their help, perhaps, a homeward path might be found. But first they will need help. They will need this lost hero with her space-mirrored hull and engines of inscrutable fire. With her technology and her resolve. And perhaps, when all have been helped, and help is received in turn she will cease to be…