The Rains Over Vesta

The Rains Over Vesta In 2580, humanity shares the Milky Way with numerous alien civilizations while two great powers tear each other apart. On Fortuna, the authoritarian Sol Federation and breakaway Sovereign Systems Republic have fought for five years over the shattered capital of Vesta. Beneath endless rain, occupation, resistance, crime, and corruption consume what remains as soldiers, civilians, mercenaries, and opportunists struggle to survive a war with no heroes.

Welcome to The Rains Over Vesta. This campaign is the first chapter of a larger planned series exploring the wider galaxy, its conflicts, characters, and different theaters of the war. Vesta is only one part of that story, and more campaigns are planned for the future. This is an early release. The campaign is playable, but additional updates, balancing, lore revisions, characters, locations, quests, and general improvements will continue as development progresses. Feedback and patience are greatly appreciated while everything gets beaten into shape. Themes Disclaimer: The Rains Over Vesta is a dark, adult science-fiction war drama. It contains mature themes including graphic violence, warfare, death, discrimination, authoritarianism, occupation, crime, substance abuse, trauma, corruption, civilian suffering, and morally difficult situations. This is not intended to be a story where every decision has a clean or heroic outcome. The factions and characters depicted throughout the campaign may express extremist, discriminatory, violent, authoritarian, or otherwise objectionable beliefs. Their actions, beliefs, political views, and morality are fictional and do not represent the personal views of the author or Friends & Fables. Most importantly, this campaign is meant to tell your story within Vesta. Your choices determine who you trust, who you fight for, what you discover, and what kind of person walks away from the war, assuming anyone does. Thank you for playing The Rains Over Vesta "What passing-bells for these who die as cattle? — Only the monstrous anger of the guns. Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle Can patter out their hasty orisons. No mockeries now for them; no prayers nor bells; Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs,— The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells; And bugles calling for them from sad shires. What candles may be held to speed them all? Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes Shall shine the holy glimmers of goodbyes. The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall; Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds, And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds." -Wilfred Owen