Anthari

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This page details the history and biology of the extraterrestrial Anthari race. (Please note that this is a work in progress)


Dieing Breed

Typical Anthari adult female in fleet-issue jumpsuit


The Anthari were a single-planet galactic civilization, who less than a few decades ago were on an upswing. A blue-skinned humanoid race, they inhabited a fecund, temperate world in a comparitively quiet corner of the galaxy. Four separate world wars had finally united disparate nation-states and achieved planetary unity approximately 400 earth-years ago, united by a long and bloody war against foreign colonizers. In the centuries that followed the Anthari advanced rapidly. At their apogee they possessed such technologies as micro-fusion power, plasma containment, holographic interface and were just beginning to crack the lightspeed barrier. Though not even a middling power by Galactic standards, the Anthari were doing well for themselves. Extra-solar colonies were springing up, peaceful and democratic government was the order of the day, and standards of living were higher than they'd ever been.

Everything changed with the coming of Valak.

Valak the World-Smasher was an extragalactic tyrant of terrifying personal power. He showed up in the Anthari galactic neighborhood approximately 19 years ago, declaring himself overlord of the entire sector. A coalition of races banded together to oppose him, including the Anthari. They failed catastrophically.

Valak wasted little time knocking out the weakest link in the Alliance chain. A powerful alien weapon was used to detonate the system's star, consuming the Anthari homeworld and its entire system defense fleet in minutes. The only survivors of the Three-Hour War, as it came to be called, was a disparate fleet of outlying system patrol ships, a mobile asteroid mining colony, and its associated tender and support vessels.

Reduced to less than 20,000 living members, the Anthari abandoned their scoured system and made for the void. They have been wandering ever since, subsisting on scavenging and trade while searching for a new world to call their own.

Anthari Biology

The Anthari, by virtue of convergent evolution, resemble humans and other bipedal sentients in may respects - two eyes, four limbs, upright posture, opposable thumbs. Their skin tone ranges from a light blue to blueish-grey. Hair tends toward white or grey, though very light blonds are not unheard of. They never have facial hair, and in fact do not grow hair anywhere else on their bodies. Though they have five fingers and opposable thumbs like other galactic species, they have only two long, flexible grasping toes on their feet.

Anthari internal biology works similar to that of humans, though the layout of crucial organs varies slightly. One major difference is that Anthari have two stomachs, to more efficiently process any given food's full caloric content. The structure of their throats is also somewhat different, with rapid contractions allowing them to emit deep warning rumbles from their throat. Anthari eyes tend to have black sclera as opposed to white, with brightly colored irises and nearly invisible pupils. They appear to see in color, but it's been theorized that they see and interpret color somewhat differently than many other species. Almost all Anthari for some bizarre reason are highly allergic to citrus.

Despite their similar appearance to humans, one critical point of divergence between the two is Anthari muscle density, which far exceeds that of humans. Their circulatory systems also appear to be much more efficient. Thus the average Anthari specimen is a great deal 'hardier' than the average human, able to sustain substantially more physical trauma before their bodies give out completely. It is a notable capability, but below what humans might think of as 'superhuman' standards - Anthari are not natural born 'bricks' and can be hurt by the same things any human might, they can just sustain noticeably more of that hurt.

Anthari can live up to 160 years under ideal conditions. Generally speaking they're considered adults for legal and social purposes around 20; unlike humans they don't necessarily have a hard number for this.


Society and Culture

The Anthari are a fleet-born people and most of their present culture is defined by this, their limited resources, and dwindling numbers.

Pre-collapse, the Anthari numberd 8 billion, with %98 living on their habitable, temperate homeworld and the remainder scattered between a number of in-system research and mining colonies. Today they are less than 20,000.

The Anthari fleet consists of a four small military vessels, several larger transports and ore haulers, dozens of tug, tender and repair vessels, and a kilometer-long asteroid cracker known as Arc Hammer that serves as the fleet's flagship. The population of most of the fleet comes from Anthari in the outlying colonies at the time of Valak's assault.

The fleet is ruled by a democratically elected Fleet Council that sends representatives from their respective vessels based on proportional representation. The council passes laws, distributes critical resources equitably, and decides the fleet's overall course. Actual fleet maneuvers in sublight, or combat operations, are by default the responsbility of the current captain of the Arc Hammer.

Anthari tend to have a deeply ingrained sense of duty and obligation. Everyone is expected to work hard and play his or her part; in space, even a single man shirking his duty can mean the difference between life and death. Even if an Anthari -could- live comfortably without working, few would choose to do so; fleet-born Anthari would likely find the notion distasteful. Pre-collapse Anthari had a mixed public-private economy, but private economies simply do not exist in the fleet beyond interpersonal barter. All essential goods are strictly rationed. Of course they understand the concept of private commerece, and wheel and deal like everyone else when visiting inhabited planets or space stations.

Daily life aboard the fleet is hectic and stressful. Work-shifts are long, and 'days off' are pretty much unknown.

Anthari justice is harsh and uncompromising. With constant scarcity and a work-force stretched to its limit, the Fleet has no time for law-breakers.. and certainly no room or manpower to spare to imprison them. Corporal punishment, usually public, is typical for minor offenses. Execution is typical for major ones, and stealing essential goods like food and fresh water falls under this category. The absolute worst crimes like murder, sexual assault or violence towards children are dealt with by shooting the offender out of an airlock sans voidsuit. The Anthari are not a harsh people by nature, and their penal code pre-collapse was much more lenient, even moreso than many Earth countries. They regard this as a grim necessity rather than an ideal. As so few Anthari remain they take violence against even one of their number very seriously and in this regard can be quite vengeful.

Anthari religion, such as it was pre-collapse, was mono-theistic. Because they have been aware of the existence of other sentients for a long time, the deity Cai-Ul is not depicted as an Anthari or the god of the Anthari specifically. It isn't even depicted as anthropoid, but rather portrayed and signified by abstract symbols. He is said to be the Prime Mover of the universe, omnipotent and benevolent, but loathe to interfere too gravely in the physical universe's affairs. Those few times it has form the basis of Anthari scripture and mythology. It became almost completely dominant circa 1600AD during planetary unification. Today a majority of Anthari are irreligious.

The Anthari do not have a large standing military with the exception of the fleet's naval vessels - it simply can't afford to feed very large amounts of men and women who do nothing but fight. Instead, most citizens upon reaching adulthood are trained and drilled in basic combat and tactics and how to utilize shipboard tools as improvised weaponry. 'Squads' of this sort gather together for brief drills once every 10 day cycle. Their pre-collapse infantry fighting force was called the Space Marines, a small, elite fighting force utilizing power armor, highly advanced small arms and brutal, intensive training. A small force of Marines escaped with the fleet, numbering no more than 250 individuals. Among those who know much of the Anthari, the Space Marines are feared as fearless and uncompromising opponents, each easily equal to a squad of lesser forces. They are also known to rarely take prisoners.

Notable Anthari

Yar'lis Volg, Master of the Marines: Just before the collapse and destruction of Anthari civilization, the world's scientists were perfecting truly radical forms of nano-assisted genetic modification: a procedure that could massively increase the strength, endurance, and intelligence of any Anthari who underwent it. Called the Geran-Leshkt Process, trials were originally undertaken on select, genetically compatible members of the Space Marines, the procedure rushed into trials as word spread of Valak's impending arrival.

Volg was one of the few marines who had undergone the procedure to have been posted at the colony, and thus one of only 3 G-L treated soldiers to remain alive and with the fleet. Even without his physical enhancements, he was a natural choice for leadership, a decorated combat veteran of the long, bloody Borrellis Intervention and long-standing company commander. He is an imposing prescence, standing well over 7 feet tall, and when unhelmeted his thick skull appears studded with numerous cybernetic grafts, replacements and enhancements. His is grim, joyless and dour, and has lately developed a reputation for mercilessness and cruelty. He and the other two G-L treated marines form a leadership structure that Zelara translates as a 'Triumverate', ruling equally over the small cadre of elite warriors in theory, though in practice his is often the deciding voice.


Tsaliah Herrsk, Captain of the Arc Hammer: Herrsk is a seasoned void-fairer who cut her teeth commanding many large military vessels before coming to command the Hammer, the most critical vessel in Anthari'ia's farthest-flung in system mining colony. Handling such a massive vessel takes no small amount of knowledge, skill and cunning, and Herrsk has appeared perfectly suited to the task, both pre- and post-collapse. It was her who came up with the idea to turn the Arc Hammer's main asteroid-smashing device into a serviceable and frightening (if improvised) weapon.

Captain Herrsk is a tall, slender and lanky woman, rarely found on-deck in anything but her captain's light green stormcoat. Permanent age and frown lines crease her features. Her brain has undergone extensive cybernetic augmentation to allow her to better process the vast amounts of astrogation, internal and combat data needed to effectively command such a ship. Because the Arc Hammer is the fleet's lynchpin, she is in effect largely responsible for formation and tactical deployment of the entire fleet in sublight, although Fleet Council is responsible for overall course and general strategy; though in the latter they frequently defer to her. Rumors dog the captain that she came upon such prominence in fleet affairs through some underhanded means, but few believe it and those who do have not been able to prove it. In person she is unfailingly polite but firm, rarely giving ground in negotiation and parlay unless it seems strategically beneficial - though she frequently takes the 'long view' in deciding what exactly this means.


Zehk Neshalis, the Precog: It is exceptionally rare for Anthari to develop superpowers non-artificially, with a single exception: in the years leading up to Valak's arrival, individuals with varying degrees of psychic potential began to show up in the population. Zehk was one of these individuals. A comparitively young Anthari of 30-odd Terran standard years, Zehk possesses powerful precognitive and telepathic abilities that make him a valuable if largely distrusted member of the crew.

The psychic has gained a reputation as something of a mad prophet, prone to fits and babbling cryptic answers to questions people didn't know they had. In truth the crazy seer 'thing' is mostly an act to get people to leave him alone; having gotten sick of answering inane, silly or unanswerable questions for everyone who could find his cabin door he decided the best defense was just to feign insanity. When this mask is down he's actual fairly normal, in fact gregarious and talkative to the point of being a little annoying himself.

When he's not using his powers to help the fleet avoid navigation hazards or anticipate pirate attacks, he puts his precognitive abilities to work helping a few close confidants cheat at games of chance at various space stations for a cut of the profits. Zehk is usually consulted before significant fleet movements and his predictions have helped the Anthari avoid numerous catastrophes; that said, he's not particularly well like by either the Marines or the Fleet Council, both for his bizarre public behavior and known personal cowardice.

Earth's Resident Anthari

There is precisely one Anthari who currently resides on earth. This, in part, is her story.

Zelara's family, both high-ranking administrators of the colony's mining operations, survived the cataclysm only to be killed by a hull breach during the chaotic evacuation of the Outer System. The orphaned girl was adopted by Fyodr T'shal, an elderly and ailing tug barge pilot who taught her the trade from an early age. Tugs and their Repulsor Cranes were critical to fleet survival, moving needed supplies from ship to ship or dirtside to orbit. It was here that Zelara also developed her knack for technology, specifically in making what little they had do the most it could. With the fleet's limited resources, every shipmaster has to know how to keep their vessel together with prayers and Polyglue.

When Fyodr died, Zelara took over as a full-time pilot and became a respected if minor personality within the fleet, participating meritoriously in several away missions both as pilot, technician and informally as a fighter. Her reputation led to her being tapped for a fateful mission four months ago: Resurrection Flight.

By the standards of other species, Anthari FTL drives were painfully slow. Years could pass without the fleet encountering friendly sentients or inhabited worlds. The search for a new place to settle was crawling, and the fleet's resources were strained. For once though, the Anthari seemed to have encountered some good luck - the fleet stumbled upon a few derelict Mandaarian Skimmer-Ships in an abandoned breaking yard, small scouting vessels with very fast FTL spacefold engines. The Fleet Council decided to retrofit the ships as best they could and send them well ahead of the fleet and cover much more ground than they usually could manage. Even if the skimmers found a world 50 years of fleet travel away, at least it would mean a destination and hope for a people running very short of it.

Those chosen for the mission were under no illusions. They were not the best of the best; they were competent people the Council knew it could afford to lose if worst came to worst. Every Anthari life was precious and valuable, but such was the cold calculous necessary for survival. The skimmers were dispatched with a skeleton crew of three, with Zelara piloting one such vessel towards a distant star.. known to humans today as Alpha Centauri.

Though it's planets were barren and dead, there was a glimmer of hope: old, distorted broadcasts floating through the vaccuum pointing to a nearby inhabited system. But before they could make their next jump, the crew found out exactly -why- the skimmers were found derelict. An instability in the spacefold drive led to a catastrophic radiation leak, an instability caused by a subtle flaw in the drive's exchange systems even the Fleet's best technicians had failed to detect. Zelara's two crewmembers Manal (a Space Marine) and Tar'yis (an engine tech) donned their suits and scrambled to the engine compartment to repair the damage. Several long, terrifying moments followed as she kept on the helm, silent but for the scream of emergency alarms. Then a voice piped through the system's internal comm:


"Zelara.. You have to jump. The yellow star the transmissions came from, aim for the habitable zone and hope for the best."

"Manal? I- that's insane! You two are still in the core, you'll both be flash fried!"

"Zelly. Listen to him." Tar'yis' deep, scratchy voice flowed through the comm. "This isn't radiation. Not like we're used to. It's something much worse. Manal's armor's maintaining a Repulsor field to keep it out, I'm re-routing things as best I can to keep some power flowing." The ship shook violently and the displays flickered to static and white noise for several seconds. "We have to stay here to keep it out of there long enough for you to fire the drive. Jump, and eject soon as you hit realspace, and pray like hell that planet's got monitoring stations."

"No!" Zelara protested, shock sending her blood coursing through her veins faster than it ever had in her life. Even as she refused, she began running through the systems checks necessary to make the lightspeed transition. "Both of you get up here, the lifepod has room for -five-. The other's will come looking for us when we don't-"

"The other skimmer's aren't coming," Manal again, interjecting sharply, voice breaking with strain. "The exact same thing is happening to the others. Maybe as we speak. The Fleet won't come, and we'd starve to death by the time they arrived anyway. Believe me.. we've talked this through."

"Zelly, one of us gets to get out of this alive. We've bought you five minutes and we just wasted two. Honor us. Honor the Fleet, honor every other poor bastard going out like this. Live."

Zelara paused, tears stringing the edges of her eyes. Reluctantly her fingers began entering the coordinates, hesitating before the large red button that would initiate the transition.

A howl filled the pilot's cabin, a sound made by no Anthari or any other living creature Zelara could fathom. Then they started screaming; she could hear them both through meters of soundproof bulkhead, like their raw terror and dieing agonies of her crewmates were being beamed directly into her mind for her to hear. For her to witness.

She slammed her palm on the ignition button-



-And woke up in an UNTIL holding facility.

Her lifepod had been recovered by the UN group's orbital monitoring station, the unconscious and battered alien stripped of her weapons and brought to earth for study. For days she refused food and any attempt to communicate on the part of the officers. Her conscious mind had suppressed many details of the accident, but what she knew with certainty was that her crew was dead, her mission had failed, and her fate not rested in the hands of heavily armed 'aliens'.

Once she became convinced the UNTIL officers weren't out to harm her or the fleet, she began awkwardly communicating what had happened through pantomime and pictograms. Yes, the Antari were peaceful. No, there weren't any more coming. Yes, she'd crash-landed; no, they weren't scouts for an invasion force. UNTIL decided the details matched her story enough to release her to minimum security accomodations. A liason officer taught her English (which she took to very rapidly), the rudiments of Earth culture and history. She stayed, learned, mourned for her passed friends, and agonized over whether the whole thing had somehow been her fault. In time she came to accept her situation, and the inevitable question came of what happened next.

UNTIL didn't know what to do with the girl. They were prepared to release her with a stipend and a place to live, knowing the trouble an alien could get into if left to wander with no support system. Zelara refused their offer; Antari didn't take charity, those who did not work did not eat, everybody earns their keep one way or another. The officers insisted it would be impossible for her to find regular, gainful employment even in Millenium City, but Zelara had other ideas.

Her equipment released to her, the Antari stray decided to turn her tools of work to tools of war against those who threatened the planet that had adopted her and asked nothing in return. Her void suit would be her armor, her hull cutter, rail drive and Repulsor-tech her weapons. She would earn what she had by fighting for Earth's loosely organized planetary militia - the Champions Response and Protection network.