A rich lore has been developed in TextSpaced that filters through every aspect of the game. In conjunction with a main story that takes place over a few millennium there is a lot more to experience. Firstly, each character has their own back story which you can progress through the game as it naturally unfolds. The stories range from a young women bent on revenge against the government to a android that was deemed not worthy of repair. Each story is unique and is a compelling way to understand your characters motives and reasoning.
Additional special stories can be undertaken in special quests or by visiting unique places in the game, such as trying to find out what really happened to Old Earth thousands of years ago or uncovering what happened to the last children of the Descendants.
As well as story, lore and mechanics can be learnt through charting planets and cataloging wildlife, wonders and points of interest. Books also containing extended lore as well as unique items that can be discovered all help bring life to a universe filled with players and non players alike.
The story in TextSpaced unfolds organically as you progress with your career, allowing you to experience story chapters when they are relevant. Completing story chapters expands the places you can visit, the tools you can use and provides a deeper understanding of the lore of TextSpaced.
When you start the game you will automatically be assigned one of six unique characters all with their own strengths and weaknesses, abilities and traits. A recap of their prologues is detailed below.
As you stare out of the ship looking at the stars fly past you glimpse your own reflection on the ship controls and focus on your face. Etched, it reminds you of how your late wife used to hold it in her hands, each night before she went to bed. You were always too busy to follow her, and now 20 years later you still regret all of those chances.
"Hey old timer, the new cap' wants us to look 'more like a crew'" - the young mechanic laughs at the notion.
"...Anyway, what name do you want on it?"
"Okay, Bob is as good a name as any I guess, so you..." before the mechanic can finish his sentence the ship jolts wildly and turns on its axis sending both yourself and every piece of junk from your quarters hurtling down the corridors, you strike a bulkhead support and manage to cling on to it - the artificial gravity must have failed.
As your grip starts to loosen you can hear metallic groans and shearing sounds all around you, the ship seems to be coming apart at the seams. You can feel the air leaving the ship, and holes are appearing on the outer walls stars twinkling in disregard.
That was 2 years ago. On that day a civilian was able to rescue you - well most of you. Your right leg, arm and part of your face were lost to space and robotic limbs and synthetic skin put in its place. It was a malfunctioning Transitional Government defence system that caused the accident that day but still, in a strange way you're happy it forced you to take action with your life - this all being said, however, every time you see your reflection in your humble shuttles window you wonder if your wife would now still hold your face in her hands.
When you were about ten years old you remember seeing a flower for the first time, holding it in your hand, wondering how nature could make something so complicated. Two years later you killed a man for the first time, a man trying to take you from your home, from your parents. Now, two decades later you have come to learn the man was, in fact, working for the Transitional Government and that he was trying to take you away from a life of Piracy; apparently stealing from others is not as normal as you were led to believe while growing up.
Once a year you take the long trip to the old asteroid you grew up on you return to the grave of the man, picking the petals from a flower; you discard them on his grave, a symbol of how he dismantled something you held dear, how something complicated can become simple by destroying it.
When he died that day more TransGov arbitrators came, you were taken away from your family and your parents locked away. They died some years later trying to escape. Had the TransGov not intervened you are sure your parents would still be alive.
"So what's the name for the book sweet cheeks?" The large, short and sweaty man dressed only in distressed jeans and a grimy white T-shirt shouted.
"Hey! the last person that called me sweet cheeks got a hole between their eyes, so watch it. Just call me..." Maybe you shouldn't give your real name in case you're still on a watch list, this guy isn't exactly legit but you can't take any chances. Instead, you tell the guy the name of...
"Bob, put the ship as belonging to Bob."
"Okays, you the boss."
Finally, your own ship, the freedom you've been waiting for so long. It's a piece of junk, but its a start.
A bump startles you and as you open your eyes your vision is obscured by what seems to be a bed sheet. You're very disorientated and feel nauseated to your core. Still, you can feel cold air approaching and the sound of shuttle engines spooling up - but wait how did you know that, in fact, what do you know? As you begin to think for a moment you realise you don't know who you are, where you are - you have no memories prior to now, but before you can contemplate this further a nearby shout breaks your chain of thought.
"Once we steal this one we'll come back for the woman, should be done in a few more minutes." a female voice shouts, struggling to be heard over the engines. None of those words seem appealing to you and almost with total muscle memory, you bound out of the bed. You departed that place in the noisy shuttle leaving a corridor of violence, blood and despair. Now 2 years later you're looking a Transitional Government Arbitrator in the eyes.
"I won't say this again, what is your name!" the Arbitrator yelled in frustration. But you have no name, and if you tell him that he'll know you are a clone and maybe trace your history. What name should you give him?
"Bob, my name is Bob."
"I see..." the Arbitrator responds - a young man dressed in a grey jumpsuit laced with various pieces of tech. But before he can finish his sentence a look of shock fills his face.
"It's your lucky day, you're free to go." the Arbitrator exclaims in a rushed almost panicked tone.
A couple of hours later you're back where you feel at ease, open space.
Every day you wake up you know that you are fake, not the real thing, a copy, a clone. You are reminded of this as every day you see the real you, well your donor. You look the same, act the same but have completely different outlooks on the Galaxy. But you do what you were made to do, read speeches in front of stuffy Ministers. See it's too dangerous for the real her to stand-up in the Houses, so unknowing to everyone you take her place. You also take her place with her Husband, but until recently she didn't know about that. When she found out - arguably the most powerful person in the Galaxy - she ordered you to be recycled.
You fled, fled as far away from the Transitional Government as you could, but still, in the far reaches of the Galaxy people still recognised you as her.
To this day, 2 years on, you continue to wear a combat mask trying to eek out a new life for yourself.
You remember the first time a merchant asked for your name, having given it no thought you blurted out...
It's strange Bob is never a name you would normally have considered giving yourself, but in that instant, it seemed to fit.
The lines down your face, your body, even your eyes - they are all scars. But not physical scars, they are the mark of an Android, where your parts connect. To you they represent emotional scars; a mark for each time a person treated you like nothing more than a toaster, for each person that pushed you to the ground and stamped on your face to see if they could make a dent, for the people that flicked trash in your face and for the people that simply refused to acknowledge you.
"Hey, Mr Android. I got something down here you can lubricate", the man gestured to his crotch. Before you could reply, two men behind you kicked your legs sending you crashing to the floor. You braced yourself from the impact with your hands and rolled over. Amongst all the bright lights of the strip, the running water from the rain flowing down the road soaking your clothes and the noise of gambling, partying and disorder you found peace. Through the rain clouds, you could see a small patch of sky, the stars seemed to twinkle back at you. You should start a new life, a life away from people, a life where everything is your design. As that notion began to settle in your thoughts it seemed to supersede your Asimov principles, you were rewriting your own programming, but before you could begin to analyse this you felt a splash on your face, forced back into reality one of the men had begun urinating on you.
What happened next caused the noise to stop, it even seemed to make the rain stop. You tore the limbs off every one of the men around you, you were the first Android to kill a human, but certainly not the last.
Two years on you're still running, but the advantage of being an Android is that you can hot-swap your face (amongst other things) using Black Market trading you're now made of the most realistic parts, you look Human and thus you'll never be found.
"...Okay, so that's one tea, what's the name?" Good question, you were once given a numeric assignment but never a name, what name should you give?
"I'm Bob" you respond.
Although you don't need to eat or drink, simply doing so stops any remote suspicion, plus you also enjoy the smell, especially tea. After a few minutes, you decide it's time to head out.
Being an Android, you're rarely missed, you're never tired and never think twice - this is why you were attached to the Assault arm of the Transitional Government. Over a thousand successful operations you were awarded more medals than most Battalions. But today your battery core is dying and the TransGov isn't going to replace it, the use of Android's by TransGov has been deemed unlawful. Moreover your once comrades, Humans you've taken bullets to see you as nothing more than another tool, they will not fight to keep you operational.
Two years ago before your body got recycled you transferred yourself into another Android's body, a waiter unit serving on the ship. Since then you have aggressively overwritten many other Androids transferring from body to body to keep yourself alive. Today thanks to Black Market upgrades you look human, and no one knows your secret. When you first got the upgrades you decided to give yourself a Human female name, the name you ended up choosing was...
By simply referring to yourself as Bob you found it offered a new beginning a chance to start over.
A rich and deep lore has been crafted for TextSpaced which informs every aspect of the game, from the weapon and ship designs to characters and plot points. Even the food and drinks within the game have lore attached to them allowing you to immerse yourself in a new universe. Part of what makes TextSpaced unique, however, is that players and their factions can become part of the lore, leaving their mark on the game history through actions, achievements and the decisions they make.