Regulorum Bast's page

About Regulorum Bast

Regulorum Bast started life under the name of Gregor. He was the third son of his father to bear this name as the former two had not lived past the age of 7. His mother was the fourth mate of his father as the others including her had all died within a few years. His father, his older sister and the rest of the families that made up their small clan lived a very desperate life eking out a pitiful existence on a planet in a system that had long ago been devastated by some disaster on a global scale. Whether it had been a xenos invasion or planetary act of God or global warfare, the planet designated Starkovian XII had been left a death world where remnants of a once advanced and prosperous human civilization barely survived the scouring heat thunder and large pockets of viral gas in addition to all of the mutated fauna which has flourished in the new ecosystem. Left over technology is the only thing that keeps the small human population alive, and the scavenging of machines and equipment is essential.

After an earthquake (which are quite common), Gregor's clan had discovered what was once a fairly intact outpost of some kind. Shifting earth had uncovered a small entry into a solid wall, they had always assumed to be a natural stone formation and had set a camp next to it. The interior had turned out to be ancient, and even seemed to be older than the legendary civilization the Starkovian XII had boasted once upon a time. It was a small structure which, gleaning from the bits of equipment inside, had evidently been used as an outpost, possibly for a survey team or settlers. Some of the old tech inside seemed to still have power even if it was completely foreign to what the small clan of people were accustomed. A strange device began speaking in an unknown language to them in fits and starts and much of its messages were garbled and incomprehensible.

Gregor had always had an affinity for the machines and tech they had scavenged; his young mind able to see a pattern to these things and allow him to make repairs and even make use of something that had been broken but still had usable parts. Gregor didn't know then that he was tampering with the true functions of these Machine-Spirits and improvising their use against their will. Gregor took on the challenge of attempting to make this strange device work, and soon it was producing strange diagrams and what appeared to be schematics for new technology. Most of these designs must have been flawed because nothing seemed to actually function when using the diagrams, but despite this, Gregor could see potential form things and modified the items produced to serve some function even if they did not do what the schematic seemed to indicate.

For a long while, the clan actually found security here in the bunker half buried in the mountain. Easily defensible and nigh impenetrable, the strange machine continued to suggest plans that never worked properly; but with Gregor's intuition, were turned into something that could extend their lives a little longer. Then came the day when the machine men came. Terrified the small clan had retreated to the bunker only to discover the machine men could open the door with but a few words of reverence and the application of pungent oils. Any who opposed them were killed outright including Gregor's father. They were quite agitated over the strange talking device and were quick to notice that many of the designs that had been produced in the last couple of years were currently existing inside and outside of the bunker. However, they were quite wroth that the designs had been tampered with and the machines and items produced were not as they should be.

(to be continued)