Space Rogues Coast to Coast
Oneiros (Quarantine World)
Less than 1 million planetside, 2.7 million in orbital stations
- Sub Sector
- Visual Description
A breathtakingly beautiful world of soft turquiose skies, purple oceans, sweeping mountains, white beaches, dotted with crystalline flora. The rain falls softly, the wind whispers through the crystal vines, and herds of fauna graze without a care. The world is split into 12 small continents, linked by island archaepelagoes, some bound together by enormous bridges of natural, tough moss. Only a small settlement of Imperial colonists resides on the southern most continent, away from the highest concentrations of crystalline flora. This settlement has managed to survive longer than most, though it still struggles, and only intervention from the Inquisitorial and Mechanicum research teams in orbit have salavaged the settlement, when the “dreaming” occurs.
Oneiros is a sleepy world, and the men who live within its gentle embrace cannot help themselves but to sleep. When they sleep, they dream, and the dreams are more beautiful than anything they could have possibly conceived, before Onerios showed them the Dreaming. The colonists try to follow the orders of the research teams in orbit, they do. They try to bulldoze the crystal fronds, they try to drink only the harsh, imported water and breathe the stale, recycled air funneled from orbit. But in the face of such beauty, what can man do? When even the Commissars sent to watch him pull off their breath masks and drink from the purple ponds, a man finds it easier to stop, and breathe, and regard the beauty of Oneiros with his own eyes, without goggles. Then he just slips away, and the dreaming takes him.
The Inquisitors are angry, but even they have begun to understand. What can man do when the Dreaming calls? Sleep, perchance to dream.
None of the colonists have made it close to their objectives, easily visible from orbit, before falling prey to the Dreaming: clusters of high-towered, slender temples, scattered across the planet, floating across the sky on clouds of floating pink moss. The runes that hold them aloft pulse with eldritch power, but that power just makes you more and more sleepy…
- Major defining feature
In the center of the northernmost continent is the largest temple, an enormous structure composed of the crystal fauna that encircles Oneiros. It takes the shape of a colossal rose, and within its petals lie threads that are surmised to be passageways, or perhaps aqueducts. Shapes can be seen traversing these arteries, but none have been adequately identified from orbit. The crystal rose sways, and when it does, weather patterns across the world alter in response. There may be some kind of link between the movement of the rose and the frequency of “dreamings.”
The rose has never been approached successfully. All explorator teams that come within 600 miles of the structure fall into the dreaming, despite their best efforts. Servitors, robots, human nulls, Astartes, even Xenos have been tried as vanguards of these teams, in the hopes that their unique physiologies will allow them to resist the call of the dreaming, but alas, none have succeeded. A crisis unfolded on the orbiting research station, when magos returning to the station infected their mechanicum allies with a “dreaming” scrapcode, which resulted in the permanent shutdown of thousands of servitors, logi, and magos.
The colonists lead simple, pastoral lives, unmarred by the usual strains placed on Imperial citizens. They farm, worship in small Imperial chapels, build minor infrastructure, and herd native animals, though recently, they’ve become increasingly unwilling to eat animals native to Oneiros.
In orbit lies Thaumaturge Bastion, a research station maintained by a combined force of Ordo Xenos Inquisitorial agents, and Explorator Magos. It’s existence is highly secret, and few ships have slipped past the heavily armed and shielded quarantine beacons that patrol the void above of Oneiros..
Many of the outlying colonies have stopped responding to orbital hails, a sign that they have succumbed to the Dreaming and must be evacuated, before they simply sleep themselves to death. However, recovery teams sent to these provinces have, themselves, succumbed to the dreaming. Inexplicably, life signs from these colonists persist, and readings show that some of them have begun to move. En masse. In a kind of sleepwalking exodus.
bq). * First Landing, on the largest island of the Eastern Archaepelago, abandoned (supposedly)
bq). * Lullia’s Landing, known to the locals as “Lullaby”
bq). * Research Point 88-23, now manned only by sleeping, twitching servitors