Maybe the rabble, surely incited by foreign influence, finally got fed up with your ♥♥♥♥. Ditching the presidential palace to evade the inevitable, bloody coup that would've ousted (and executed) your divine bloodline. Or, perhaps the investment into a nuclear "defense program" wasn't a very suitable deterrent for the treacherous dogs that sought to glass that beautiful slice of totalitarianism. Pressing the big red button while having already left the atmosphere on your private shuttle... Whatever it was, the ship only had enough room for immediate heirs, a few loyal generals and whatever indoctrinated stowaways hid themselves on your vessel.
Your faction will be a New Arrivals.
Start with 6 people.
Arrive in drop pods.
Player starting characters have a 100% chance to start with cryptosleep sickness.
Start with:
-Tiger x1
-Silver x2000
-Service rifle x2
-Steel hatchet
-Patchleather royal armchair
-Cigarettes x3
-Lavish meal x10
-Ambrandy (good)
