Penkwhar
In the enigmatic expanse of Charted Space lies Penkwhar, a world swathed in mystery and bureaucratic ambiguity. A large, wet planet cloaked in a tainted atmosphere, Penkwhar's surface is a hazy, steamy expanse that tests the limits of human endurance. Officially, the Imperial enclave on this inhospitable world hosts a mere three thousand souls, clustered in a single, isolated enclave. These denizens, Imperial citizens all, live a life defined by the uncertainty that surrounds their very existence.
Penkwhar's accessibility is a matter of contention, with conflicting reports adding to the confusion. Some claim it is a Red Zone, completely interdicted and off-limits, while others assert an Amber Zone designation, allowing for restricted access. The result is a paradox where one might apply for a visa and face refusal, yet still journey to Penkwhar without penalty. The matter languishes in the labyrinthine corridors of the Imperial Bureaucracy, with a resolution promised "in due course." Meanwhile, the starport's classification oscillates between Class X for those adhering to the Red Zone doctrine and Class D for the dissenters.
The paucity of reliable data on Penkwhar exacerbates its enigmatic nature. The mean surface temperature hovers at the upper threshold of human tolerance, creating a stifling, oppressive environment. Whispers of indigenous inhabitants circulate, suggesting a species potentially hostile to outsiders. These beings are subjects of cautious study, with cultural contamination a constant concern, further complicating any interactions.
Within the enclave, a mosaic of Scout Service personnel, scientists, and support workers carve out their existence. This community, though small, includes a burgeoning populace of individuals drawn by support roles or familial ties to those stationed on Penkwhar. The enclave itself lacks industrial capacity, barely sustaining a technology level of TL5, reliant on imported equipment to maintain its fragile equilibrium.
Visitors to Penkwhar are met with a blend of humor and caution. The rhetorical query, "Don't you know we are a Red Zone?" or the wry, "Where's your permit?" typifies the welcome, underscored by a genuine acceptance provided the newcomers do not venture beyond the enclave and risk unsettling the indigenous populace. Yet, the specter of arrest looms, a consequence of ill-timed naval patrols and the perennial uncertainty over zone classification. Those apprehended find themselves at the mercy of a capricious system, their fate swinging between swift negotiation and prolonged detention, dependent on the whims of distant authorities and the erratic nature of interstellar law.
Thus, Penkwhar stands as a testament to the Empire's reach and the complexities of its governance. It is a world where the line between law and chaos blurs, where human resilience meets the inscrutable face of the unknown. In this dance of survival and diplomacy, the inhabitants of Penkwhar navigate their precarious existence, embodying the unyielding spirit of those who dwell on the fringes of the Empire's vast dominion.
Penkwhar's accessibility is a matter of contention, with conflicting reports adding to the confusion. Some claim it is a Red Zone, completely interdicted and off-limits, while others assert an Amber Zone designation, allowing for restricted access. The result is a paradox where one might apply for a visa and face refusal, yet still journey to Penkwhar without penalty. The matter languishes in the labyrinthine corridors of the Imperial Bureaucracy, with a resolution promised "in due course." Meanwhile, the starport's classification oscillates between Class X for those adhering to the Red Zone doctrine and Class D for the dissenters.
The paucity of reliable data on Penkwhar exacerbates its enigmatic nature. The mean surface temperature hovers at the upper threshold of human tolerance, creating a stifling, oppressive environment. Whispers of indigenous inhabitants circulate, suggesting a species potentially hostile to outsiders. These beings are subjects of cautious study, with cultural contamination a constant concern, further complicating any interactions.
Within the enclave, a mosaic of Scout Service personnel, scientists, and support workers carve out their existence. This community, though small, includes a burgeoning populace of individuals drawn by support roles or familial ties to those stationed on Penkwhar. The enclave itself lacks industrial capacity, barely sustaining a technology level of TL5, reliant on imported equipment to maintain its fragile equilibrium.
Visitors to Penkwhar are met with a blend of humor and caution. The rhetorical query, "Don't you know we are a Red Zone?" or the wry, "Where's your permit?" typifies the welcome, underscored by a genuine acceptance provided the newcomers do not venture beyond the enclave and risk unsettling the indigenous populace. Yet, the specter of arrest looms, a consequence of ill-timed naval patrols and the perennial uncertainty over zone classification. Those apprehended find themselves at the mercy of a capricious system, their fate swinging between swift negotiation and prolonged detention, dependent on the whims of distant authorities and the erratic nature of interstellar law.
Thus, Penkwhar stands as a testament to the Empire's reach and the complexities of its governance. It is a world where the line between law and chaos blurs, where human resilience meets the inscrutable face of the unknown. In this dance of survival and diplomacy, the inhabitants of Penkwhar navigate their precarious existence, embodying the unyielding spirit of those who dwell on the fringes of the Empire's vast dominion.
Monostellar System
| Star Name | Hierarchy | Category | Mass (Sol) | Temp (K) | Luminosity (Sol) |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Penkwhar primary | Primary | Main Sequence | 0.57 | 3770 - 3850 | 0.13982 |
| Unit | Diameter | Min Distance | Hab Zone | Jump Shadow | M-Drive Limit |
| AU | 0.0027 | 0.031 | 0.39 - 0.74 | 0.27 | 2.7 |
| Orbit # | * | 0 | 2 | 0 | 5 |
Spinward Marches 2128
D978310-5
Starport - D (Poor)
- Only unrefined fuel available.
- No repair facilities present.
- 3,200 km.
- Low Gravity (0.10g - 0.17g)
- Standard
- Tainted
- Requires filter mask
- 80% water
- 1,000
- Company/Corporation.
- Government by a company managerial elite, citizens are company employees
- No prohibitions.
- Average Industrial (Mass Production)
- Lo
- Lt
- Ni
Gas Giants - None
Type
Planet
Location under
Comments