Prime World Building Project

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The Prime World Building Project (FWBP) was created by R THNDR and TALucas as a world building proof of concept. Fargoth, its predecessor, was initially built for email communication and later expanded to internet forum, but largely used for gaming purposes. The PWBP was created to collaborate a fictional sci-fi universe. It was a framework where stories could take place, games could be played, and individuals could just stop by and explore. The idea was to pull writers who loved science fiction from all around the globe to work together to achieve something larger than themselves--and it did just that. Contributors from multiple states in the US, UK, and Canada all threw ideas into the pot, and brought a unique world to life.

Prime was centered around the Local Bubble and then expanded to the Bubble Group, two celestial regions that exist in the real universe today. There were multiple species, solar systems, planets, animals, flaura, and stories build around them. The project existed for about six years.


Mars reformed

A Couple Stories from the Prime World Building Project

297, AJJAJON, ODER, 2—SOLNET BROADCAST—MARS LOCAL NEWS CHANNEL 3912
Mike Smith was temporarily suspended from the University of Neopolis pending the investigation of missing nanites from the school’s science lab. What turned out to be a harmless prank could have been much, much worse. Now here’s Jackson with the story:
”The first of his roommates to awaken was Sam. It started with a light scratching under his covers, and then more determined movements until he finally sat up in bed. “What is that”, his voice echoed through the room. He reached for the lamp, but Jose had already beaten him to it.
The light came on.
“Ahhhhhh!”, both men screamed. A solid grey mass that had covered Sam’s body from the waist down was working its way up his body. He jumped to his feet, kicking and screaming and brushing his legs, but nothing could slow their march up the body.
By this time everyone in the room was awake. Sam and Jose were dancing about the room, arms flailing and grasping for an unseen foe, and Erok was writhing under his sheets. Mike’s heart pounded within his chest—partly out of fear for his friends, and partly out of the excitement of seeing them get what they deserved. He didn’t want to seem unaffected by this mysterious invader, so he let out a few screams of his own, and flailed his arms and legs beneath his blankets.
A few moments later all was silent. Sam sat in the far corner of the room, his shorts twisted and his hair a mess. Erok lay on the floor beside his bed still scratching at his legs; Jose stood in the center of the room staring at the large wet spot that had formed on the front of his pajama pants. For the longest time, nobody said anything and eventually all the guys made it back to their beds.
“University officials say they won’t expel Mike, but they don’t want the incident to go undisciplined, and he will receive a time off.
The weather is up next. Low solar activity is expected for the Sol System this next kilocycle, and Sun spots are the lowest in gigacycles—stay tuned for your local forecast.”

--By: TALucas

Thud thud thud …
The familiar rattle of her auto-cannon reverberated throughout the cabin of her P5-Viper. She felt its deep, rhythmic throb, and it comforted her. Thoughts of a small child cringing in the womb ran through her mind, but she shrugged them off. Staring forward again she saw her shots go wild.
“Try and try again, or at least that’s what they kept telling us” is muffled by the facemask. “No, don’t go there Susan, not now”
Thud thud thud.
This time her aim was true. A glimmer of triumph was immediately squashed as the debris from the Fighter clattered about her hull. Turning back to the battle, she took in the sickeningly beautiful scene before her.
Set before a verdant Skye, the Centaurian Underground assault force danced in a deadly game with the remnants of the once mighty White Knights of Skye. Lances of ruby fire crisscrossed the expanse between the Knights and the Underground frigates. And in the middle of it all, seemingly untouched by the halo of death and destruction, stood the towering Spires of Port Arthur. Even from space, they seemed to command events.
“And if we don’t win, they won’t stand for long.” Determination steeled her voice.
As she raced back into the action, sirens chirped for missile locks. Rolling and pivoting, she saw more of the squadron fall to flak batteries. It was hard to place the source of the blood roaring in her ears. Part of her wanted to think that it was the high-G maneuvers, but she couldn’t shake the whispering demands for vengeance. In the split second she sat contemplating the source, she found herself pinned between two Underground Banshees.
Her craft bounded and bounced about the in the lane of space she was being allotted. After nearly a minute of maneuvering, she began to feel the G’s taking a toll. The controls before her started to grow fuzzy and the bittersweet scene before her began to lose focus.
“Fairbanks?” she started at the sonic assault.
“FAIRBANKS!!” She shook herself awake. Matching her course off to her left she saw a dingy white P5.
“I’m here, Knight … I think.” A quick twitch of the controls proved unresponsive. A spot check of her readouts showed no fatal damage. After a moment of interfacing with the on board computer, she managed to regain control. This time, when she commanded, the craft tilted in a tight roll.
“What are you doing up here? You’re supposed to be on leave for a few more months.” Again she was berated by the disembodied voice of her rescuer.
“We can discuss that later. Right now we are under attack and I can’t deal with your distractions.”
“Susan, don’t make me-“ the circuit went dead.
Before she could turn to look at the Knight, his P5 erupted into a flare. With a swift jerk, she rocketed away from the blast as the shockwave that should have been her own funeral pyre jarred her craft. Again, it seemed she would fall prey to carelessness. She found herself much closer to the heart of the battle now and raced into the fray, hoping to lose her aggressors and maybe pick up a spare along the way. All around her, dogfights raged. In the darkest corners of her mind, she was reminded of simulator fights set at Monument. She shuddered as images of that mass graveyard ran through her mind.
Almost on cue, a lone Underground Banshee bolted from far right, setting itself up for a neat takedown. At just the right moment, the comforting shudder of her auto-cannon sent another terrorist to his end place. She pushed deeper into the mire that had once encircled Port Arthur from afar. With glimmers of admiration, she noticed that one of her followers was still hot on her trail. Seeing a Skye Gendarmerie cruiser ahead, she looped over it, hoping to come around behind her tail. Once again, a neat kill was placed before her, and, once again, she felt the pull of the womb as her auto-cannon ended another life.
Seeing the chaos around her, she scanned the comm channels, hoping to hear someone trying to take order. When a voice broke through, she felt chills run down her spine.
“You humans always think so highly of yourselves. You have the common Centaurian drugged by your honeyed tongues. You have relegated us to a backseat role in Bubble history, all without a backwards glance. You think yourselves indomitable, yet today you will sink to your knees. And today will start the fall. “ The deep Centaurian voice resonated throughout the cabin.
Almost as if to punctuate the message, a flak burst erupted not far ahead of her. Before she could avoid the death cloud, klaxons erupted within the cabin. Her A.I.R. system had been compromised. Her lifeline was being siphoned off by the cold grasp of space. Sensors gave her an altitude of 615.2 kilometers.
“Too far.”
Panic sent tendrils of ice throughout her body. And then the moment passed. Once again, the Spires of Port Arthur stood before her, wreathed by the newest graveyard of human history. As if to stamp the Spires from existence, just like so many lives had been, the Underground flagship lumbered across the serene view. This time, she knew the roaring in her ears was one of retribution.
Sitting atop the ancient Underground cruiser, the bridge seemed oddly untouched by the ravages of war. With a determined motion, one that seemed to echo the gravity of the situation, she placed the craft on its final course. Training her sensors on the brain of the Underground fleet, she forced the Viper to its structural limit. Watching the lumbering beast race towards her, she was caught off guard by the sensation from her abdomen. Placing her hand over her stomach, again she felt her child kick.
“I am sorry little one. Perhaps it is best that you never had to experience the horrors of this world.” A single tear slowly drifted down her cheek.

--By: R THNDR

Credits for the PWBP

The credits for the PWBP go to R THNDR and TALucas, and the many other contributors of the project (im_sparticus, Caelum, Frozenwatch, Bobby Williams, Lance90, ArmarkExplorer, ...).