Dedalus Fall Setting (DF)

Timeline of the Dedalus Fall Setting

2071 — First successful Near-Earth Asteroid (NEA) mining missions. Initial operations target water and carbonaceous materials.

2080 — Carbon-rich NEAs remain vital for off-Earth industry. The Moon dominates the cislunar economy, but reliance on NEAs continues.

2102 — Establishment of a mature cislunar economy. Lunar industry expands significantly.

2130 — First operational space elevator completed on Waigeo in Indonesia, spearheaded by international cooperation led by Japan. Enables vastly cheaper and more efficient access to cislunar space but soon proves too small and too remote.

2138 — Invention of the first practical long-duration ion drive. Drastically increases potential for slow but efficient interplanetary travel.

2145 — USA completes its own space elevator on Jarvis Island, focusing on military and commercial cargo transport to orbit.

2155 — China and ESA finish space elevators on Hainan and São Tomé and Príncipe respectively, expanding global access to orbit and solidifying their roles in the emerging cislunar economy.

2170 — Chaotic wave of exploration and early colonization across the solar system. Many ventures fail or are absorbed by larger players.

2195 — Second-generation colonies begin. These are launched from space habitats and successful early colonies rather than Earth.

2210 — Launch of the Mars Terraforming Initiative. Massive investment from Earth. Symbolic as much as scientific.

2225 — Mercury Industrial Boom begins. Night-side and twilight-zone settlements extract rare metals. Heavy investment from solar power harvesting firms.

2245 — Solar Alchemy Project officially launched. Ambitious Earth-based attempt to manipulate solar fusion processes and harvest exotic particles and elements from the solar corona using mega-mirrors and orbital infrastructure.

2265 — First large-scale practical fusion reactors come online. These installations require exotic materials, including those produced by the Solar Alchemy Project. Initially limited to major orbital platforms and high-priority installations.

2270 — Climate stabilization efforts on Earth begin to succeed. Massive orbital mirrors and solar shades contribute, in coordination with asteroid carbon capture systems.

2285 — Solar Alchemy Project achieves breakthrough in exotic matter synthesis. These are strategic materials for fusion power and other specialized uses.

2290 — Compact fusion reactors become viable for shipboard use but remain resource-intensive. Rare materials keep production limited to powerful states and megacorps.

2310 — Daedalus Fall: Catastrophic failure of the Solar Alchemy Project. Solar instability increases dramatically. Solar storms wreak havoc from Mercury to the Asteroid Belt. Massive losses in solar orbit infrastructure including the loss of all except the small Japanese space elevator. Earth prestige plummets.

2312–2350 — Widespread fragmentation of political and economic control. Colonies become de facto independent. Earth remains population center but loses coercive power. Apocalyptic cults and radical ideologies emerge.

2315–2330 — Rise of the Earth First movement. Following the Daedalus Fall, anti-space sentiment surges on Earth. The new Earth government calls for a rollback of space colonization and demands that colonies devolve and re-integrate. Most colonies ignore these edicts, accelerating Earth's loss of influence.

2335 — Formation of Earthforce, a militarized enforcement arm of the Earth government, intended to police and control off-world colonies. Cislunar stations and parts of the Moon are occupied. Colonies rapidly militarize in response using local 3D-printed weapons. Skirmishes erupt.

2340 — Fusion reactor designs no longer require rare materials. Decentralized manufacturing using advanced 3D-printing enables proliferation of cottage-industry fusion tech. Fusion-powered ships and habitats become common across the lawless outer system.

"Now" (Setting Present Day, \~2450) — Earth is still the most populated region but now heavily reliant on trade with self-sufficient colonies. Exploration and recovery efforts continue in Mercury ruins and abandoned solar orbit structures. High radiation limits drone use, pushing humans into dangerous salvage and diplomacy roles.

Adventure Seeds

• Abandoned mining base at an NEA. Small, rapidly rotating cylinder with high gravity gradient. Survivors abandoned in evacuation, xenophobic and radiation-scarred.

• Old base on Mercury’s dark side. Searching for data on surviving parts of Solar Alchemy project. Hazards: static electric charges in metals, seismic fissures, over-pressured living quarters holding plasma from Daedalus Fall.

• Using telemetry from previous mission to chase down a part of Solar Alchemy harvesting array and its exotic matter.

• Various space habitats governed by exotic dogma.

Mercury

Former mining colony destroyed by Dedalus Fall.

Mercury hosts an industrial boom starting around 2225, focusing on night-side and twilight-zone settlements mining rare metals.

Ruins of old Solar Alchemy Project infrastructure and plasma containment from Daedalus Fall remain as dangerous salvage sites. Heavy investment from solar power firms taps Mercury’s position near the Sun.

Sunward zone on Mercury? Surface temps reach 700K+ (about 430°C). Twilight zone is cooler, 250–350K (–20 to 80°C), still harsh but more manageable.

Sunward side features: molten metal flows (rivers or lakes of liquid iron or alloys), constant solar wind bombardment, extreme radiation, no atmosphere. Could have ruins of industrial sites designed to harvest solar energy directly from molten metal pools or process exotic materials.

Twilight zone is the prime candidate for settlements: milder temps, potential for trapped volatiles (like water ice near shadows), geothermal activity, but seismic quakes and fissures make stability an issue. Likely destroyed in Dedalus Fall.

Both zones would have extreme engineering challenges—structures must withstand thermal stress, radiation, and seismic instability. The sunward side’s molten metals could be used for exotic industry or as natural hazards in adventure sites.

Nearby asteroids and debris orbiting close to Mercury include volatile fragments from the Solar Alchemy disaster, valuable but hazardous for explorers.

• Vulcanoids: Hypothetical small asteroids inside Mercury’s orbit. If your setting includes them, they could be elusive, volatile sources of rare materials, hiding dangerous solar radiation or exotic phenomena linked to the Solar Alchemy Project.
• Near-Mercury NEAs: Some asteroids cross or get close to Mercury’s orbit. These would be hot, irradiated, and possibly full of exotic minerals altered by intense solar wind—prime salvage or mining targets, but extremely hazardous.
• Debris from Solar Alchemy fallout: Wreckage from the Daedalus Fall might have settled into unusual orbits near Mercury, including fragments of solar mirrors or exotic matter caches. Salvaging or investigating these could be a strong adventure hook.

Venus

Venus is a world of extremes, locked in a slow, strange dance with the Sun. Its day lasts longer than its year, creating long periods of relentless sunlight followed by equally long darkness. The atmosphere grows denser and hotter closer to the surface, crushing and toxic, dominated by thick clouds of sulfuric acid. This hostile environment shapes every aspect of life and technology, forcing colonies to cling to the high-altitude cloud layer where pressure and temperature become marginally more forgiving, and where survival depends on constant adaptation to a volatile, alien sky.

Venus colonization pre-Daedalus Fall consisted mainly of floating cities high in the atmosphere (50–60 km), where pressure and temperature are Earth-like. These cities hosted advanced biotech research and limited bio-industry, exploiting Venus’ extreme environment as a natural lab.

The dense atmosphere below provides strong shielding from radiation, allowing radio and other electromagnetic signals to travel downwards from cloud cities to the surface and lower layers. This makes Venus one of the few places in the inner system where exploration drones can work. However, ships orbiting above the atmosphere can not reliably use electronic sensors looking down, nor can the cities effectively scan upward into space. This creates a natural electromagnetic “blind spot” between space and the cloud layer.

After Daedalus Fall, many surface and lower atmosphere installations were lost or abandoned. When Earth ordered colonies to devolve after Daedalus Fall, Venus was one of the few places that did move back to Earth as available transport permitted, but some were left behind as there was a lack of ships. Some cloud cities survived, continuing limited research and habitation amid harsh conditions and fragmented infrastructure.

Venus today features only a few surviving high-altitude cloud cities, isolated and fragile amid ongoing solar storms and atmospheric turbulence. Surface and lower atmosphere bases largely failed or were abandoned, with colonists forced back to Earth due to unsustainable conditions.

Adventure locations include drifting, possibly derelict cloud bases—some frozen in place by persistent storm eyes—offering exploration into lost biotech research and remnants of the Solar Alchemy exotic material efforts.

A unique bioengineered membrane layer may exist below the cloud cities, stabilized by a sharp thermal inversion and specialized plants or biotech. This layer could be dense, hot, acidic, and toxic beneath but have an Earth-like atmosphere on top, forming a semi-solid floating platform strong enough to walk on or build upon. It’s an exotic ecosystem and an intriguing frontier for research, survival, and conflict.

Space Habitats

From cislunar space outward, space habitats are the dominant human living spaces. These are rotating cylindrical stations in stable orbits—usually at Lagrange points or in heliocentric drift. Artificial gravity comes from spin: the farther from the central axis, the stronger the gravity. People live on the interior of the rotating tube, often in stacked levels. Spacecraft dock at the zero-G ends.

Habitats are built from the center outward. "Down" means toward the hull. A glowing central light tube provides illumination, supports plant growth, and doubles as a transit tunnel for rapid movement along the station’s length. The outermost interior layer holds parks, farms, and elite estates. Below that are habitation levels, then industry, then the bottom layers: warehouses, water tanks, and radiation shielding. In poor habitats, slums cling to the shell—where gravity is highest, shielding thinnest, and life harshest.

Larger habitats can afford to spin slowly, making Earthlike gravity stable and comfortable. Smaller ones must spin faster, causing steep gravity gradients and disorienting motion—dropped objects curve unpredictably as the habitat rotates beneath them. In large, safe habitats, gliding from the zero-G center is a popular sport.

Here are examples of typical habitats and their living conditions. Small ones are harsh. Large ones support leisure and autonomy. There are exceptions—but this is the usual pattern.

200-meter diameter, 1,200 meters long

3.0 RPM, 2.0 G at hull

750,000 m² living space

Population: ~25,000

Vertigo is constant. Gravity gradients are extreme. Most people are crammed into one level. Lower levels are barely usable. Survival depends on repression or fanaticism. A hellhole.

400-meter diameter, 1,400 meters long

2.2 RPM, 1.5 G at hull

1.8 million m² living space

Population: ~60,000

Still unpleasant. Gravity is tolerable, but vertigo remains common. The smallest model that can sustain a society. Slums likely. Low quality of life.

600-meter diameter, 1,600 meters long

1.8 RPM, 1.3 G at hull

3 million m² living space

Population: ~100,000

Livable. Most residents have a decent life. Gravity is only mildly uncomfortable. Slums exist, but there’s room for stability and choice.

1,000-meter diameter, 2,000 meters long

1.3 RPM, 1.2 G at hull

6 million m² living space

Population: ~200,000

Comfortable and affluent. If slums exist, they are maintained by policy, not necessity. Life is good unless the regime is harsh.

1,600-meter diameter, 2,600 meters long

1.0 RPM, 1.12 G at hull

13 million m² living space

Population: ~400,000

Spacious and stable. Gravity differences are gentle. Inequality is political, not structural. Open cultures thrive here.

2,000-meter diameter, 3,000 meters long

0.85 RPM, 1.1 G at hull

20 million m² living space

Population: ~600,000

Opulent. Large, slow-spinning, and easy to manage. Most inhabitants live in comfort.

Smaller habitats focus on resource extraction. Mid-sized ones support industry. Large ones host researchers, merchants, and middle-class life. All habitats have managers who rule and control resources.

There’s no hard line between a habitat and a giant ship. Most are stationary, but some mount ion drives for slow migration or repositioning.

Eventually, habitats become city-states. Their isolation and self-sufficiency make them perfect for cults—religious, political, or corporate. Whoever controls the air, water, and access to zero-G controls everything. Other habitats embrace openness. Some cluster in chains, sharing transit and infrastructure. These tend to be prosperous, diverse, and resilient.

Building Space Habitats

Building a space habitat is relatively easy—just gather materials and 3D-print the simple structure. In the inner system, the hardest resource to source is carbon, needed for the biotope on the top level. In the outer system, carbon is more common but still the priciest component.

Without enough carbon, soil is shallow or absent, stunting plant growth and removing the environment's natural stress relief. Many spacers would kill for carbon if their habitat is running low.

Space Habitat Terrain

Habitats present terrain unlike either gravity or microgravity. As long as you're standing on the inner surface or floating near the center, things behave predictably. But with spin-induced gravity and confusing flight dynamics, two terrain types are unique to rotating space habitats:

The first is the central zero-gravity region. From here, you can jump to nearly any point on the inner surface—if your aim and braking are good. Get it wrong, and you’ll either drift helplessly or slam into the wrong spot.

The second is the outer hull. Gravity here seems to pull away from the hull, but if you let go, you’re flung along a tangent—not straight out. As you approach the hull, it slides sideways beneath you, making it hard to grab hold. Staying close requires constant acceleration toward the surface.

That's why most Jovian vehicles are humanoid in form, equipped with magnetic or grappling feet to stay anchored.

Terra

In modern usage, Terra refers to the region of space near Earth’s orbit, while Earth refers specifically to the planet.

Cislunar Space

Cislunar space is a cluttered, hazardous frontier shaped by decades of expansion, conflict, and the aftermath of Dedalus Fall. The orbital environment around Earth and the Moon is choked with debris and derelict satellites, creating a dangerous “Kepler syndrome” that complicates navigation and transit. Most tiny objects have burned up by now, making previously inaccessible areas merely dangerous—still far from safe. Cylinder habitats and stations cluster around Earth, the Moon, and their Lagrange points, but many have fallen into disrepair or abandonment following the solar catastrophe.

The congested debris fields and damaged infrastructure of cislunar space create unique adventure zones. Smugglers and runners use risky passages through the junk fields to bypass patrols and cut time, but insurance companies aggressively deny claims tied to these routes. Salvage hunting remains profitable but lethal; most easy targets were stripped clean decades ago, leaving only hazardous, heavily contested wrecks. Intelligence on salvageable sites and hidden hazards is highly valuable—espionage, sabotage, and information warfare are staples of cislunar intrigue.

Luna

The Moon is politically and culturally fractured. Control is split between Earth-based powers, independent settlements, and external factions from the Belt and Jovian space. Moon gravity remains a constant problem: some cities rely on rotating structures to simulate Earth-like conditions; others use genetic engineering to adapt the human body. These differing approaches have hardened into cultural divisions between habitats.

Luna’s main exports are metals, silicates (for electronics), oxygen (for air and propellant), and hydrogen—including the fusion fuels deuterium and tritium. What the Moon lacks is carbon. Biochemicals must be imported and meticulously recycled. It's considered rude to eat and not use the restroom.

Early colonies began in lava tubes and expanded into deep excavations. Excavation mining expands the underground cities and is controlled by large entities with heavy machinery and security.

Regolith mining is something else: dangerous, dirty, and mostly handled by small independent crews—tough, low-gravity–adapted, and defiant. Derisively called “farmers,” they resist corporate and Earth control, making them central to black markets, sabotage ops, and pro-Luna movements. They despise fixed-price contracts and prefer to deal with outsiders and smugglers.

The most heavily guarded sites on the surface are the mass drivers that launch cargo offworld. These are run by external interests with a "shoot first, no questions" policy.

Various groups compete to monopolize supplies, but the "farmers" will usually sell you what you need—unless it's carbon-based. That’s always in short supply on the Moon.

Near Earth Asteroids

A near-Earth asteroid is one whose orbit keeps it near Earth’s distance from the Sun for most of its path. They are not “close” in the sense the Moon is—early spacecraft took months to reach them, and even with modern ion drives, travel still takes days. The same applies to other asteroids inside the main belt, though those with more eccentric orbits are harder to reach and harvest.

Resources from near-Earth asteroids were essential to kickstart the cislunar economy, and they remain the inner system’s most important source of carbon. This carbon is found in regolith asteroids—loose collections of space sand and dust. In microgravity, mining regolith directly is inefficient, even dangerous, as most of it drifts off to become dangerous debris. The standard method is to heat the regolith until it gasifies, then collect the released gases for processing.

Many of these asteroids were eventually mined out, leaving only their hollowed husks and abandoned mining equipment—valuable salvage for later ventures. Some installations may even harbor desperate survivors, overlooked or abandoned during evacuations or simply forgotten in the chaos of the Dedalus Fall.

Mars

Mars: An Adventure, Not Just Life.
Advertising slogan for Mars tourism.

Mars is primarily a tourist destination rather than a place to settle permanently. Its surface gravity (~38% Earth’s) is insufficient for long-term health, so most workers live in nearby rotating space habitats providing full artificial gravity.

Terraforming progressed over the 22nd and 23rd centuries with orbital mirrors boosting temperature, but the Dedalus Fall destroyed many of these systems, halting but not reversing gains. Mars lives on borrowed time, trying to capitalize on its partially terraformed environment before it regresses.

Mars offers exclusive tourism, not mass tourism. Interplanetary travel might be cheap, but not that cheap. Sometimes a rich mobile habitat will park in Mars orbit for a season, but otherwise Mars entertains only a few thousand very rich people at any one time. What Mars sells is high-society life with unregulated pleasures—gambling, personal pampering, extreme sports in low gravity—and the thrill of guided exploration of the Martian wilderness. Radiation is a major surface hazard due to Mars’ thin atmosphere, lack of a magnetic field, and increased solar activity after the Fall. For tourists staying days to weeks, proper shielding and shelters keep risks manageable, making the controlled danger itself a selling point—appealing to thrill-seeking billionaires and adventurous travelers. Long-term stays pose serious health risks unless advanced medical technology is used to repair cell damage and eliminate cancer and aging. This captures the allure of exploration, exclusivity, and living on the edge without the burden of long-term colonial life.

The workforce on Mars is a patchwork of three groups: young short-term workers who tolerate low-gravity exposure during limited shifts; a genetically adapted minority using gene therapy to handle Mars’ environment better; and a core of Martian natives who cannot survive in standard gravity and may burn out from extended exposure. This diversity adds social and economic vitality.

Near Mars Space

Mars’ moons have strategic and logistical roles: the small inner moon Phobos hosts a heavily interdicted Earthforce military base constrained by Mars’ gravity well, making launches fuel-intensive or slow with ion drives; the larger Deimos acts as a civilian transit and refueling station, easing travel and supporting tourism.

Mars orbit hosts numerous space habitats, many of them large, slow-rotating cylinders designed for comfort and prestige. Several are dedicated to higher education, university habitats that accept students from across the solar system. These serve as meeting points where youth of different cultures share experiences and viewpoints, creating both friendships and rivalries. A culture of competition and even dueling has emerged, with champion matches staged on the Martian surface as tourist attractions. Jovian exosuits are beginning to appear in these duels, and Earthforce cadets are having their first exposure to them.

Earthforce also maintains a military university in a Mars-orbit habitat, conducting select exchange activities with civilian institutions.

Both civilian and military students provide a workforce for Mars tourism. This has been framed as a coming-of-age achievement, so even students who are economically independent take these jobs. Cadets work in parade uniforms to add glamour to tourist venues, prompting some universities to adopt uniforms for both students and faculty.