846-395 0929 Matarishan/Ley
846-395 B9C7258-D 713 IU K5 V
Dasimkii, the nominal mainworld of the 846-395 system, used to be a bit of a boomtown. Despite the insidious atmosphere, which could chew through a hostile environment suit in a matter of hours, there was mining here. Every two days a hardened shuttle flew down from the slender ring orbital to a ceramic landing pad, and swapped a few dozen crates of supplies for crates loaded with semi-refined lanthanum. Then the shuttle scuttled back to the relative safety of hard vacuum and the miners went back to their tunnels.
A few hundred of the miners were Ursa. They were happy in 1.3g, and their metabolisms held out longer whenever a certain narcoleptic compound found its way into the mines from the surface atmosphere and knocked all the humans flat. They called the humans “canaries”.
The large (and anomalous) Lanthanum deposit ran out in the 940s, some twelve years later than the original estimate. Sternmetal declared the sixty-year operation “very satisfactory” and shut down their planet-side facility. They started to pull their people out of system, but not everybody left 846-395. The orbital had come to support various side activities, and two of those – selling support services to asteroid prospectors and skimming fuel for passing ships – were viable on their own. So Sternmetal left a residual operation behind, for a while.
Over 30 years population dwindled to something under a thousand, fluctuated, and settled at about 700. Sternmetal decided it wasn’t worth their while to administer the system – no real money came in, and they’d only get the blame when the orbital decompressed – so they handed it over to a committee of locals after recovering all the good computers. These days it’s run, insofar as it’s run at all, by occasional meetings of representatives from the belters, skimmers, station personnel, and the crazy old Vargr in a cutter that “fell off” a passing freighter in 974 with the only triple missile turret in the system.
Nobody’s really sure how many asteroid prospectors there are, but it might be four or five hundred. Sternmetal had always operated prospecting teams to scour the system’s belt in the hope of finding another anomalous Lanthanum strike. They never did, but when they pulled out there were a few hundred hopeful (or crazy, or desperate) independent belters who were ready to try again. They were often willing to buy support services from the orbital, such as advanced medical treatment or custom parts fabrication, and some of them could afford to. They still come and go in their rickety old ships, usually turning up with a hot tip and leaving two years later with a bit of nickel-iron or tin.
The other sideline was a fuel-skimming operation on an outer system gas giant called Gikadushkhurka. This started out supplying the mining operation, but it expanded to provide ready fuel for ships passing through. 846-395 is a minor choke point for J2 to J4 traffic, so a fair number of ships find it convenient to refuel there. Some of them will pay reasonable rates for refined or unrefined fuel, if they can’t skim fuel themselves or they find the time saved more valuable.
The skimmers are mostly Ursa, descendants of miners who stayed behind rather than splitting the clan. They don’t like the 0.5g spin gravity on Dasimkii orbital and prefer a nice solid 1.3g ship’s deck plate under their paws. They keep a forward orbital “base” at Gikadushkhurka, built from discarded LASH pods rotating on a long tether, and they do regular business with Dasimkii. These days the skimmers meet their customers at a complex pattern of orbital fuel dumps outside Gikadushkhurka’s 100D limit. If an incoming astrogator knows the pattern, which is published, they can pick one and plot their jump to minimise the delta-v needed when they emerge.
Some of the ships that stop by don’t mind doing a bit of trading while they take on fuel. The skimmers’ forward base serves as a trading station, and cargos of ore and other goods occasionally change hands. You can buy some pretty fancy gear at 846-395, especially if you don’t mind waiting a month or so. The crazy old Vargr from the ruling council – who seems to have no actual name as such – has been known to make private rendezvous with small traders.
Dasimkii, the mainworld that appears in the stellar catalogues, is now devoid of life. The Dasimkii orbital which once housed five thousand sophonts and built small spaceships is now home to more like fifty. It’s largely shut down, and a few decades past its design life, but seems to be doing OK. Sometimes the prospectors quietly reactivate bits of the orbital that are disconnected from central control, and use them for undisclosed purposes. Ships have been known to visit “dead” sections for no apparent reason. There are jokes about the Matarishan Freedom Movement. For the moment, things seem set to continue as they are. The Dasimkii orbital, which ties it all together, won’t last forever; but it probably has many decades ahead of it with the right handling. There are always rumours of more lanthanum on the planet’s surface, some strike that Sternmetal found but ignored for inscrutable (i.e. fanciful) reasons, and tales of prospectors who went down to find it. Of course, they’re nonsense.
846-395 B9C7258-D 713 IU K5 V
Dasimkii, the nominal mainworld of the 846-395 system, used to be a bit of a boomtown. Despite the insidious atmosphere, which could chew through a hostile environment suit in a matter of hours, there was mining here. Every two days a hardened shuttle flew down from the slender ring orbital to a ceramic landing pad, and swapped a few dozen crates of supplies for crates loaded with semi-refined lanthanum. Then the shuttle scuttled back to the relative safety of hard vacuum and the miners went back to their tunnels.
A few hundred of the miners were Ursa. They were happy in 1.3g, and their metabolisms held out longer whenever a certain narcoleptic compound found its way into the mines from the surface atmosphere and knocked all the humans flat. They called the humans “canaries”.
The large (and anomalous) Lanthanum deposit ran out in the 940s, some twelve years later than the original estimate. Sternmetal declared the sixty-year operation “very satisfactory” and shut down their planet-side facility. They started to pull their people out of system, but not everybody left 846-395. The orbital had come to support various side activities, and two of those – selling support services to asteroid prospectors and skimming fuel for passing ships – were viable on their own. So Sternmetal left a residual operation behind, for a while.
Over 30 years population dwindled to something under a thousand, fluctuated, and settled at about 700. Sternmetal decided it wasn’t worth their while to administer the system – no real money came in, and they’d only get the blame when the orbital decompressed – so they handed it over to a committee of locals after recovering all the good computers. These days it’s run, insofar as it’s run at all, by occasional meetings of representatives from the belters, skimmers, station personnel, and the crazy old Vargr in a cutter that “fell off” a passing freighter in 974 with the only triple missile turret in the system.
Nobody’s really sure how many asteroid prospectors there are, but it might be four or five hundred. Sternmetal had always operated prospecting teams to scour the system’s belt in the hope of finding another anomalous Lanthanum strike. They never did, but when they pulled out there were a few hundred hopeful (or crazy, or desperate) independent belters who were ready to try again. They were often willing to buy support services from the orbital, such as advanced medical treatment or custom parts fabrication, and some of them could afford to. They still come and go in their rickety old ships, usually turning up with a hot tip and leaving two years later with a bit of nickel-iron or tin.
The other sideline was a fuel-skimming operation on an outer system gas giant called Gikadushkhurka. This started out supplying the mining operation, but it expanded to provide ready fuel for ships passing through. 846-395 is a minor choke point for J2 to J4 traffic, so a fair number of ships find it convenient to refuel there. Some of them will pay reasonable rates for refined or unrefined fuel, if they can’t skim fuel themselves or they find the time saved more valuable.
The skimmers are mostly Ursa, descendants of miners who stayed behind rather than splitting the clan. They don’t like the 0.5g spin gravity on Dasimkii orbital and prefer a nice solid 1.3g ship’s deck plate under their paws. They keep a forward orbital “base” at Gikadushkhurka, built from discarded LASH pods rotating on a long tether, and they do regular business with Dasimkii. These days the skimmers meet their customers at a complex pattern of orbital fuel dumps outside Gikadushkhurka’s 100D limit. If an incoming astrogator knows the pattern, which is published, they can pick one and plot their jump to minimise the delta-v needed when they emerge.
Some of the ships that stop by don’t mind doing a bit of trading while they take on fuel. The skimmers’ forward base serves as a trading station, and cargos of ore and other goods occasionally change hands. You can buy some pretty fancy gear at 846-395, especially if you don’t mind waiting a month or so. The crazy old Vargr from the ruling council – who seems to have no actual name as such – has been known to make private rendezvous with small traders.
Dasimkii, the mainworld that appears in the stellar catalogues, is now devoid of life. The Dasimkii orbital which once housed five thousand sophonts and built small spaceships is now home to more like fifty. It’s largely shut down, and a few decades past its design life, but seems to be doing OK. Sometimes the prospectors quietly reactivate bits of the orbital that are disconnected from central control, and use them for undisclosed purposes. Ships have been known to visit “dead” sections for no apparent reason. There are jokes about the Matarishan Freedom Movement. For the moment, things seem set to continue as they are. The Dasimkii orbital, which ties it all together, won’t last forever; but it probably has many decades ahead of it with the right handling. There are always rumours of more lanthanum on the planet’s surface, some strike that Sternmetal found but ignored for inscrutable (i.e. fanciful) reasons, and tales of prospectors who went down to find it. Of course, they’re nonsense.
