Burton-Halley Project

The Burton-Halley Project is the brainchild of two businessmen, James Burton and Arthur Halley. Founded in 1891 in an effort to cut in on the growth in war-based opportunities, the gentlemen began to compete with rivals, most notably AeroKnights Inc., for business in the mercenary sector. Though most records indicate AeroKnights weapon development plans were in effect before their percentage of the mercenary market began to drop, the Project's instant impact has led some to give them credit for AK's partial departure from that sector.

Burton and Halley still run the Project, twenty-three years later, and that is as much as they want anyone to know.

Both men came from wealthy stock, which led to few questions regarding their ability to fashion such a formidable array of mercenary troops so quickly after beginning their venture. Almost no one realized the company was founded on the remnants of a dying cult, suffering its final indignities a century and a half after its formation.

In the mid-1700s, a strange malady sprung up amongst the newly-founded Antonian States. Great ritual behavior was reported by those who ventured close enough to land to observe, but did not make the mistake of landing their crafts on shore. A small, private group of interested parties met to fund study of the phenomenon; this led to the discovery that a small idol had passed through the nation around the time of the behavior shift, though it was lost well before the ritualists hit their stride. With no leads but enormous wealth amongst its members, the group sought the idol worldwide, under every rock and across every border.

The search required the hiring of historians, investigators, guides, and people from all manner of relevant professions. Stories of the idol spread, leading to interest in the group from individuals across the wealth and status spectrum. Initially the group rebuffed requests to join from all but the wealthiest few, those who could match the resources of the original members, but as the search lingered the wisest of them realized no payment could match the vigor of those devoted to the cause. They extended membership to those a step below in the income scale, then another step some time later, stretching out the time frame before general membership was allowed in order to maintain the sense of superiority amongst those in the club.

However, the growth in total associates created an unintended side effect. Since most had only heard of the idol in bits and pieces, and were only aware of its most superficial effect ("making people crazy") through rumors, it became the subject of stories that spun into legends, and eventually myths. Once the original members of the group began to die off and only a few of their children chose to continue the work, those children centralized power amongst themselves. Lena Yubkina, heiress to the owner of a lumberyard empire, tagged the group with its first name: The Black Temple. She named herself High Lady, and her lieutenants Patriarchs and Matriarchs; these too were the first titles ever granted to members of the group.

This turn towards cultism drove out most of the followers. They maintained a certain level of interest in the matter of the idol, but nothing akin to religious devotion. A substantial minority, however- by some estimates up to fifteen percent, or approximately five thousand people- increased their devotion, offering up tithes ("Donations In Search Of Our Passion") or moving to the group's newly-built compound in Yubkina's home nation of Novostya order to directly assist with Temple activities.

The cult maintained a low profile through the remainder of the 18th century. Despite significant interest worldwide, especially in a time before radio communication, it had never been any kind of official organization and thus nothing resembling a potential threat for local or national governments to confront. Now it was both smaller and more likely to draw the eye of secular leaders. Even Yubkina's influence would not hold back authorities if the Temple appeared to be a problem. Missionaries were sent to far-flung nations, especially poor ones with low levels technological development and desperate citizens. Cultures with high degrees of freedom and a strongly self-reliant streak were also occasionally targeted for those disaffected few who would be open to a life of structure. Children of acolytes (as they came to be known) were indoctrinated from birth. Anyone who lived in the compound was allowed to leave if they wished, but once they stepped out of the gates, they were on their own on a permafrost horizon. Very few made the attempt. In these ways the membership grew.

Yubkina's death is placed somewhere in the first decade of the 1800s. The extent of the struggle for leadership is not entirely known, but it resulted in the death of at least one Matriarch and the ascension of Patriarch Maksim Dolzhikov to High Lord. Around this time the Novostyan government had begun initial queries into the activities of the Temple; this actually helped silence questions about the rise of another Novostyan to power when Dolzhikov proved immediately able to keep investigators silent about the group. Dolzhikov's rise also led to the militarization of the cult.

At the time of Dolzhikov's rise, the compound's membership had quadrupled to around two thousand people. Yubkina had begun construction on a neighboring compound; this is what had initially attracted the notice of authorities. Dolzhikov never pretended the Novostyan government stopped watching them from afar; his most famous phrase became, "If the dogs want to look us over, let us give them something to see." Where new technologies in general had been studied by certain expert travelers and brought back to the compound for Temple use, Dolzhikov demanded military knowledge above all else and crafted a network of spies to retrieve it. By the advent of the steamplane, the Temple's craftsmen had become experienced enough to reverse engineer designs with half or less of the blueprints for many devices.

Eventually Dolzhikov's influence was not enough to hold back the Novostyan investigators, but it did not matter. At that point, the Temple's military hardware was enough. The government could press a far greater population into service, but any indication they might do so was met with riots at the idea of a civil war against fellow citizens. (The concept that anyone born in Novostya was a full member of their society began to spread around that time through pamphlets and propaganda posters.) The Temple's air force would decimate the army from an untouchable distance, and Novostya could not afford more than a couple of planes for training purposes. No mercenary force existed that could defeat the Temple.

Many Novostyans, seeing the cult's power, wound up joining out of disgust with the government or fear they would be run down if the Temple staged a coup. Membership exploded; four more compounds were built within five years. How so many new acolytes were officially indoctrinated in that time period remains an open question. That they were fully devoted to the cause was, of course, the official view of the Temple; historians generally believe that most of these "immigrants" simply spoke the necessary platitudes and otherwise stayed quiet and safe.

Around the mid 19th century, the Black Temple had become a worldwide phenomenon once again, though for very different reasons than the initial group. A curiosity about some strange artifact was now a Search For Truth, and more so, Over Any Obstacles. When those obstacles sometimes included police and military forces in foreign countries, attention became thoroughly focused on the cult. Foreign policies were enacted to deal with them; most officially condemned all practices, but a few weaker nations sought alliances and deals for some of the group's military hardware. Some countries signed extradition treaties with Novostya, not realizing the government had no functional ability to seize anyone associated with the Temple save exposed spies in the cities. But with the Temple never having gone through with the long-feared coup, no other nation would attack them and disregard Novostya's sovereignty. The question of what to do about the cult lingered.

As it turned out, war was not necessary to destroy the Temple; it only took the thing the group had sought for so many years.

The founding of New Atlantis had been met with a relative sense of apathy by Temple leaders, to the point where they did not attempt to hide knowledge of the country from the acolytes. Eventually, however, stories of the melting northern glacier crept in, and the mystery of the event led some to wonder if their long-lost idol might be involved. New Atlantian envoys began traveling the world, hailing the Seabringer; though vague in description, the general membership grew more excited by the day about their faith finally being rewarded.

Temple leadership attempted to censor any such news from there forward, but this only served to heighten curiosity. Those who suggested an alliance with the new nation questioned the goals of the High Lord (at that time Dolzhikov's son, Oleg). Their faith in the idol restored, but without hope for their leaders, several assassination attempts were planned in quick succession. Eventually one succeeded, in 1880; a huge portion of the compound's residents took most of the modes of transportation and immediately deserted the cult. A few attempted to rejoin civilian life, but most looked to join the new colony and serve that which they had worshiped for so long.

Some few, however, stayed. They waited to see what was left after the exodus, and discovered a relatively peaceful life available to them. None of the old guard remained, so the Temple kept up its main compound as a sort of commune. A pair of greenhouses fed them, the two engineers kept up what technology had been left, and the people maintained their daily lives- including training with the leftover planes.

When Burton and Halley caught wind of the Temple's remnants still living in northern Novostya, they trekked to the snowy plain and found precisely what they had heard about: A small community with a cache of functional warplanes far exceeding what it could use. Most of the pilots had a decade or more of training; even without actual combat experience, exceeding familiarity with the planes was always useful. AeroKnights Inc.'s business was picking up steam, and would monopolize the market if no one made a dent soon.

So Burton and Halley made a deal: lifetime contracts for all the pilots, and a new compound built to the comfort of the old Temple residents in a secret, much sunnier clime. Some balked intially; once they saw the size of their new paychecks, the Black Temple was dead, and the Burton-Halley Project was born. Overpaying for talent ballooned their roster quickly, both in pilots and technical experts. The Project's aim is to win control of the mercenary market, and whatever other markets they can corner, by whatever means required.

But the old acolytes never forgot about the Seabringer, and it remains possible stories about the old idol have filtered across the younger generations and up the chain of command.