by Max Barry

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Governor: The Republic of New Saharia

WA Delegate (non-executive): The Enclave of Neo Animalia (elected )

Founder: The neo glactic empire

Last WA Update:

Maps Board Activity History Admin Rank

Most Nations: 369th Most World Assembly Endorsements: 965th Most Valuable International Artwork: 1,084th+6
Largest Black Market: 1,114th Largest Information Technology Sector: 1,786th Most Scientifically Advanced: 2,069th Most Cultured: 2,272nd Largest Arms Manufacturing Sector: 2,354th Largest Manufacturing Sector: 2,566th
World Factbook Entry

Welcome to The Galactic Union, traveler!
Disclaimer: We are aware of the typo in the name. Our original Founder did not bother to spellcheck himself and left the typo to haunt us forever.


Humanity's great empire has died, and with it, the Earth and the Sol System is naught but the ashes of a nova. Alien empires and strange eddies scour the void, marking their new domains and feeding upon the corpse of Human achievement. With the last of Earth and the Universal Empire's memory having died, a new age has spawned, one in which all fates and their journeys remain wholly uncertain.

NOTICE: LinkSecret Alliances

Links: LinkDiscord | Getting Started, Rules, and Combat Guidelines | Map



Embassies: The Bar on the corner of every region, United Christian Empires of the West, The Slide Countries, Fredonia, Regionless, Oneid, The Great Universe, Official European Union, The Region Of Gargery, The Embassy, An Island In Space, Bootana Hutta, Free Market Federation, Gypsy Lands, Distant Worlds, Nubyss, and 5 others.The United Federation of Planets, Kommuland, The Federation of Fanciful Philosophies, True Waskaria, and The IMPERIUM.

Tags: Casual, Cyberpunk, FT: FTL, FT: FTLi, FT: STL, Fandom, Fantasy Tech, Future Tech, Independent, Industrial, Isolationist, LGBT, and 16 others.Large, Magical, Map, Mercenary, Multi-Species, Neutral, Offsite Chat, Outer Space, Post Apocalyptic, Regional Government, Role Player, Social, Surreal, Trading Cards, Video Game, and World Assembly.

The Galactics Union contains 73 nations, the 369th most in the world.

Today's World Census Report

The Most Stationary in The Galactics Union

Long-term World Census surveillance revealed which nations have been resident in their current region for the longest time.

As a region, The Galactics Union is ranked 18,642nd in the world for Most Stationary.

NationWA CategoryMotto
1.The Enclave of Neo AnimaliaInoffensive Centrist Democracy Communists“Life finds a way”
2.The Republic of New SahariaInoffensive Centrist Democracy Communists“In the Empire's Shade, We Rise”
3.The Empire of Vorgon SystemFather Knows Best State Suspiciously Liberal Dictatorship“Honor. Loyalty. Unity.”
4.The United Cruolian Systems of Ex-Machina 374Inoffensive Centrist Democracy Communists“We need a new motto, help”
5.The Colonies of UnitessDemocratic Socialists Hell“Vae Victis”
6.The Thestral Union of FreeAmericanStatesInoffensive Centrist Democracy Communists“Liberty Through Order”
7.The Boundary of Sovereignty of JudahiteIron Fist Consumerists Champions of Commerce“Conquer the Stars”
8.The Corporate Board of VIXXEN InternationalCapitalist Paradise Decent Hardworking Self-Starters“Good business is where you find it.”
9.The Pristine Community of A Perfect NeighborhoodPsychotic Dictatorship Communist Dictatorship“It's a beautiful day to be a neighbor!”
10.The Ashkatan League of VulstriaMoralistic Democracy Ordinary Decent Hardworking People“Strength through Unity”
1234. . .78»

Regional Happenings

More...

The Galactics Union Regional Message Board

Political Favoring \\\ FreeAmericanStates \\\ Coalition Remnants

Deep in the halls of the Feisen Exchange, R. Zon the Eighth and M. Ronald the Seventh had just finished a very productive meeting with a new business partner. Standing on the balcony overlooking the main exchange, Michael removed a cigar from his pocket. Trimming the end and lighting it, Raven finally made her way over. Still talking on the phone.

"Yes, yes. At least that much. If you need additional liquidity, draw it from the reparations account. Failing that, dip into my own savings."

"Yes, thank you. I appreciate your work. I'll be sure to write you a bonus at the end of the term. Yes yes. Buh-bye!"

Hanging it up and sticking it into her pocket, the click of the young womans heels stopped as she got to the balcony. Grabbing the cigar from Michael's fingers, she dropped it to the floor and stomped it out.

"We aren't VIXXEN. Smoke in the designated chambers."

A bit offended at her actions, Michael stood up straight and sized the woman up.

"Sure we aren't VIXXEN, but not even up here? Cmon."

"No, Ronald. You can't smoke up here. This is a clean establishment."

"Fine. What's the news?"

"Jessica is gonna work on a meeting. She's reaching out to the ISF proper to secure us a diplomatic line. We're gonna have to haggle, though."

"I know we are. Unless we want to go beg Eithan for a discount, they're gonna need to make us right. How much of it do we have laying around here?"

"We still don't have many clients. But they agreed to take it as a number in an account, at least. We don't need to worry much about those stupid gold coins. Except for how we are gonna use them here."

Raven finished off, looking down at the ashes. Walking back inside the halls, she returned with a dustpan and brush. Squatting down she cleaned up the cigar, before Michael spoke.

"We can negotiate if they have holdings in anything else. Or just melt the gold down and use it for wiring."

"Then we would need someone who would want to buy a bunch of ballistic heavy ships everyone thinks are obsolete."

"Can we just convince them they aren't obsolete?"

"Doubt it."

Picking up the dustpan, Raven dumped it into a nearby trash can, clipping the dustpan and brush together and setting it on one of the lounge tables, before she leaned over the railing.

"At least this gets us in the door with the union. Who knows, they might have something we can bring to market here."

~~~

A few hours later, one of the Thestral diplomats was slipped an envelope. The contents of it contained an offer, a Feisen company will pay back all of their debt to DOLOS AEC, in exchange for the Thestrals now being indebted to them instead, with an option for a discount.

The letter was signed with two names, the first one in cursive was 'Raven M. Zon 8' and the second was completely normal, written just 'Michael Ronald.' RonZon was probably not a name that the Thestrals heard often, other than they were the biggest company currently working in the Orellian-Feisen Economic zone.

RonZon is going to pay back all of the Thestral debts to DOLOS AEC if accepted
DOLOS AEC is going to be receiving an account with the debt amount at the Exchange, allowing them to choose any currency, split or singular, to accept their debt repayment.
RZ is further going to try and haggle the Thestrals to get them to pay back a significant portion of their current outstanding balance.

We're not VIXXEN \\\ VIXXEN International

"Earlier, you said something. We're not VIXXEN."

Mike said, lifting a fresh cigar to his lips and taking a puff.

Blowing it out, he turned to look at his computer screen.

"I get you hate my sense of humor. What if we took those OLM's and sold them to VIXXEN?"

Mike said, taking another taste of the cigar smoke.

"It sounds really messed up. Would DOLOS even approve of that?"

She responded, with heavy breaths. Rapid footfalls as she turned the treadmill up faster.

"Yeah, they would. I asked one of them beforehand. VIXXEN, maybe a few others. But I know that those inferior foxes are looking. And there is no time like the present."

"I know. The Will of Fena, or whatever those weirdos say."

"It isn't a weird thing. We have express permission to help Orellia. We can use it to our advantage and game the markets. We start with VIXXEN, our main competitor, who is already on the backfoot."

"More like flat on their rear."

"True. They are doing terrible. We can make their situation better and worse, why not?"

"I see what you mean. How do we get it done, though? If they open the crates and see Orellia plastered all over, we are in deep."

"We change packaging, we scrape off any labels and apply our own. Its all licensed from the Millworks. I'll call Lamira, get physical copies of any license they have, and get us the same. We have the industrial base, so it won't take much for us to retool and mix our own production in."

"Alright. If you can handle that side, I can try and negotiate."

"I want to be there too, Rav."

~~~

The offer was extended not long after. VIXXEN wanted military supplies, they were gonna get them. The Fox Millworks quality, best in the galaxy, for substantially under market value, and without all the red tape and morality attached. It was available now, they just needed to let the RZ delegates come negotiate and work out all the paperwork.

buy my guns foxman

A Perfect Neighborhood wrote:snip

Staring the delegate simply nodded, eyes unblinking. "Yes, indeed..." he seemed to have ignored a few many things, but looked to have the gist of it. "We have enough force to spare, Quilla will see what she can spare for your forces."

"The Karehame and Black Swimmers, specifically, will be able to help in these efforts, along with those who you stand with now, the Carnivorette and her crew. Forces from Quilla herself will mostly be Raelings, you'll see them in the coming days." The delegate went on to explain further, before finishing, screen slowly fading out.

"There you go, expect not a massive amount of forces though, the Black Swimmers are currently refitting most of their warships and creating new Val-Naukkas, but you'll see them soon, surely. The Karehame will have access to the newer vessels though." The flat-black Usanine diplomat in the room told them. "Now... I could see about asking the Morphexians, but there's rumors that they have gone rogue, so I'll petition the Poko Araka. You may not these groups, but they're powerful, and Saharia faced them once, and their allies paid the price heavily against the vassal states."

The Usanine pondered, and seemed to be finished explaining the finer details to the Neighborhood's delegates. "If you have anything else you would like to let us know, tell us, but I assume you will be leaving now?" His translator device hummed quietly, a few reverberating electronic blips sounding as he talked.

INTERMISSION: BEATING HEART OF THE MACHINE

~

Ka-thump. Ka-thump. Ka-thump.

The Aurelian Empire had never been known for being "peaceful."

In fact, within the reaches of the Pelion Cage - it was known for being an expansionist, warlike nation - a tidal wave of conquest, a military power so strong even self-made deities crumbled before it. That was a hundred years ago; when the last Age of Expansion ended, a vast majority of the Empire's factories simply... shut down. Waiting for the moment when Aurelia would call upon them again to make weapons of war.

See, the Empire didn't really have any sort of "civilian" industry, to put it lightly. Of course, the real truth of the matter was far from that. It didn't quite matter in the heat of the moment, because all factories contained the same universal blueprints required to synthesize just about anything from essence.

During times of relative peace, that was what they would do. Make civilian goods. This was a rather inefficient way of producing them - as providing the raw resources and using thaumaturgy to fuse them together was far less essence intensive. Over the past few centuries though, Aurelia had built up a massive stockpile of thaumaturgic storage. They had the essence to spare.

For a while, all was good within the Empire. All was well. The population gradually got more and more antsy - some calling for a new wave of expansion and warfare, something that would give them a reason to fight...

But those voices were quiet. A minority.

Ka-thump. Ka-thump. Ka-thump.

When the Pelion Cage fell, and Garellia was laid bare for the Aurelians to explore - those voices cried out again, demanding blood.

Why shouldn't we take our rightful place as rulers of this galaxy? Why do you hold us back so, from teaching true perfection? Why should we not grow, expand, conquer, and test our mettle against new foes?

To put it simply, the Aurelian Empire wasn't prepared. Technology was a completely alien concept; the notion that things like space travel could be conducted without the use of thaumaturgy was absurd. And yet, here they were. Some time was needed to analyze and prepare for these new foes. Hundreds of thousands of researchers - nay, millions - put their minds together, devising ever more destructive weapons to take down a foe which had never seen them before.

Rend Engines. Project ThauMEGA. Controlled essence-ether fission bombs.

For once, all restrictions were lifted. Even those relating to the manipulation of the Aion - or Elderspace, as some liked to call it - were no longer off limits. That was how the Thaumic Faulmette was synthesized, in all its terrible wonder. A lot of these were still in progress, of course. In the span of ten years, however, great leaps had been made.

Even Rend Engines were no longer a concept; more were being mounted on almost all of the Empire's greatest and strongest ships. Ancient technology lost to time - was now revitalised for a new Age of Expansion.

Ka-thump. Ka-thump. Ka-thump.

The Orellians were only the catalyst of a change that was a long time coming. When one Province goes to war...

The entire Empire follows.

Being in a perpetual war economy had its benefits, you see. The order was given out to revitalise all inert factories; the Aurelian military complex was being reinforced, one underground facility at a time. Machines roared to life - automated souls feeding essence into machines, printing out plates of Imperial Bronze and components in droves. The Exploratores were buying up these products in bulk, too - all to summon new naval vessels into existence.

Production of one Zarski-class Star Obliterator was put into motion, and the Exploratores were given as much essence as was needed to complete it. Niribala-class death ships were also being reactivated; any one of these vessels would bankrupt multiple star systems to run, let alone build.

Lucky for the Empire, they had the industrial capacity.

The time is now.

Now is the time for action.

Don't look back...

Because it's showtime.

~

Ka-thump. Ka-thump.

...Ka-thump.

Outta the Box \\\ The Aurelian Empire

As one of the G2's swung the door wide, she collided with another one.

"Hey! Watch it!"

"Sorry, sorry."

Slinking right on past, 'she' wiped her mouth. A quick look at their reflection. Sneaking through the groups of security, the figure made their way into the storage room. Pressing 'her' hand against the lock, the appendage shifted and melted into a black goop. With a soft click, the door opened. A bag reeking of that foul magic from the lab inside. Quickly grabbing it and throwing it over a shoulder, they closed the door and made way for the airlock. And as the maintenance cycle began, they stepped inside. Complete depressurization didn't seem to bother the figure, despite a lack of a pressure suit. And as the other side opened, they pushed off.

Free of the nullification field, his disguise melted away. And with a quick portal hop to Saharia, the blue eyed, vest clad man walked up to a certain fox, throwing the bag at her, and leaving.

~~~

Several light years from the Aurelian border, they could detect the force of another being approaching. Something powerful, sat inside of a star fighter.

Within a few hundred AU it turned on its IFF. Seventails, of the Feisen Republic. Exiting jump at the edge of the system, the fighter hailed.

"Hello, Aurelian Empire. I am Sur Junko of the Feisen Republic. I spoke with one of your agents over a public comm line. He is facilitating a trade with me. I have brought a few bits of tech from another nation, as well as something else. An Ether-Artifact from the original United Coalition. They said they were a Kamiera. I just want to trade some of the stuff I don't care about, for some stuff I potentially would care about."

She clarified, fighter come to a complete stop. There were several more hovering around it, but there was no indication they were piloted. Like a slaved piece of technology.

FreeAmericanStates wrote:Several letters were sent back to President Dolf of the Solarian Union and marked by various Thestral Government Agencies. Some are postal related, such as a letter from the Equissian Delivery Service, a seemingly oddly named postal service covering the Thestral Union with its letter stating items like those sent by President Dolf chocolates should be placed within heart-shaped packages only; however, the other sweets are correctly packaged. Still, they are willing to waive the fee; they would do such a service themselves to avoid causing issues with President Night Watch's Love Life. Still, they never expected her to apparently be dating a stallion, let alone a human one, even if said human was the head of state in another country. Other letters from another government organization calling itself the United Regency of Equissian States, President of the Thestral Union is also apparently the leader of the United Regency of Equissian States. According to the info, she will become a prime minister upon forming a unified Equissian state as a monarchy. This agency's concern is on the aspect as such gifts used in such quantities could be seen as a way of calling her as either a very romantic gesture or effectively calling her a whore. These warnings from government agencies were the beginning of what he would receive related to the gifts sent out to President Night Watch.

These letters would not reach the President, but rather his support Staff. they would respond by resending the gift, but with a notice from Solarian Postal that it was not intended as the above and was a gift of friendship. This would surely remove any danger whatsoever.

Judahite wrote:|| Scarlet Handshake | On the precipice of bronze

| Songroot met them face to face, extending a welcoming limb out as it sung forth its greetings: "Sunlight rises above the horizon".

0.33 SCARLET HANDSHAKE

What a curious little ship, no?

There were not many others like it. Whilst Aurelian ships were malleable, yes, the Boundary's vessels were something else entirely. Plants... in space. Honestly, the Empire wouldn't have thought that it was even possible - if the Maigsters Guild and the Exploratores hadn't confirmed otherwise.

Therefore, it was with placid observations that they saw the ship dock with the torus-shaped station. A clamour of hands and legs, a menagerie of bodies and souls; all coming to meet with the Avasars that were soon to arrive. As the Imperial Bronze-Mythril hybrid compound continued to attach the daisy-shaped vessel to the station, the doors opened. It was just large enough to accommodate the Boundary's people.

Standing at the door, smiles on their faces, were Aurelians. The Elteni.

For those who had never met them before, they seemed like stock humans. Average as could be. And yet - every one of them seemed to carry a certain weight on them, something unmistakeable. Each had their presence; their mark on the world. Displayed or otherwise.

Most wore cloaks and hoods, grey and brown material looking rather pristine and new - threads still for there was no wind. All was calm as they waited for Songroot to glide down, eyes tracking his every moment whilst he did. Not with mistrust, or apprehension, but with a hint of wonder that something not magick could be so beautiful.

"Sunlight rises above the horizon," must be one of their greetings, Jonah thought.

The lead diplomat responsible for this first contact spoke back, using Intent-speak and crossing the language barrier. The voice was rough, a juxtaposition to Songroot's melody.

"And may the Emperor's blessing be with you."

With a smile, he continued.

"Now. You are here for a reason... to negotiate the construction of ships and the like, yes? Hybrids, of steel and verdant greens?"

Fox Millworks wrote:WHERE IS EVERYONE HIDING

0.34 OUTTA THE BOX

"Aye aye. Sur Junko speaks the truth. Just received a missive from the Consultants Guild to direct em' to the closest Aion-bound hub for secure artefact transit."

A crackle came over the thaumaturgic comms system, its intent being transmitted nigh instantly across light-years of space. The Grey Island had personally confirmed that yes, this was authorized - for the second time in Aurelia's recorded history - a non-Elteni was to be allowed directly into the Innerlands.

[--You are authorized for entry, Seventails of Feisen. Wait, and an escort will arrive shortly to bring you to our point of exchange.--]

Two minutes after that declaration, an Norinco-class Black Ops battleship jumped into the system, the bronze-black gilded vessel gilding amongst stellar currents.

[--Opening Cynosural Field in two minutes. Get your drones to the designated area, or there's no deal at all.--]

Though it didn't quite transmit, that sentence was slathered with derision.

The operator on the other side let out a grunt as the all-clear was sent to the Norinco-class, a series of blue-purple swirls echoing around it. A line of pulsing runes glowed an eerie red; the language of Everything spoke in odd tones, and only to those who knew how to listen.

It was with no fanfare that the entire entourage vanished into the abyss... reappearing in deep space, in the thick of the Aion. A cloying sort of sweetness and dizziness came over the crew of the B-ops battleship as the influence of gods long dead washed over the vessel; only for more wards to flash, these ones white and written entirely differently. A sigh of relief was heard from all over as the voices ceased their incessant whispers.

[=Welcome to Station Eye of Bermuda. Dock at your nearest convenience - our own objects for trade and the like have already been assembled. All we're waiting for is you, to hold up the end of this bargain.=]

The large torus-shaped station rotated on an axle of bronze as a clear mythril opening presented itself to her. The air inside was breathable, if only but.

Inside, a man awaited. Only one.

He wore a large white coat that extended from his shins up to his neck. Dull grey pants, flat black shoes and gold trimming accompanied him - but perhaps the most striking thing was the white, triangular wide-brim hat and the grey mask with blue goggled eyeholes that peered out at Sur. On his hand, he wore a single glove.

The other hand was tanned and laid bare, an eye made of six lines constantly shifting around.

His voice silky smooth, the Watchman talked.

"You have come here to trade. So have I. Let me see... what exactly you've come to give."

The Algeron Treaty Organization wrote:As the other teams made their ways throughout the locale, Data wasted no time in greeting KC. "My name is Data, I am an android. Your form appears related to the other androids here. Are you related?" he asked, though emotionally muted his speech shone a child like wonder he had not remembered since he was found on Omicron Theta.

When he heard his answer, he asked more questions, taking in each answer that KC-105 gave him to compare against his own experiences. "Is this an entire society of Synths? How many more kinds are there? And how do you create more? What are your origins as a species?"

Perhaps some of these questions weren't very socially appropriate... But Data was eager to ask anyway. His breadth of experience in Starfleet and the Federation could not have prepared him for a world like this. Prior to the Galactic Outreach Initiative there was scholarly doubt there was or could be more like his kind in the galaxy. At least, within reach of a few hundred years. He had lived his life up to this point without siblings, knowledge of his creator, or any hope of meeting or making more of his kind: his own technology escaped his ability to understand.

KC-105 projected a few more reptilians, though they stayed stationary as she explained.

"Synths were created by a species called Saurians, the original inhabitants of this world. Approximately three hundred and seventy one years ago, Saurians became extinct following a decades long battle against a viral plague. Synths as a species were created thirty years before Saurian Extinction, originally for the purpose of space exploration, but later on we were needed in order to replace large losses in organic population."

KC's voice waivered when she spoke about the plague and the extinction of the Saurians, reciting the extinction of her creators seeming to discomfort her as the Saurian holograms were dispersed, and a diagram of a large building took their place.

"Following Saurian extinction, Synths formed a democratic council and laid plans for maintaining as much infrastructure as possible, and constructing additional facilities to enable the proliferation of a mechanical species. In the centuries afterwards, we were able to achieve a stable population at approximately fifteen percent the size of the pre-plague Saurian population, give or take one percent due to margin of error."

The Breen wrote:

The strange entity tilted its head as if confused by the captain's response. Clicks and whirs could be heard behind its visage, as if a mechanical engine was driving the alien's movements.

{{"Improper Classification" Possible translation error. Query; Does your state-polity lack a designation?}}

The pillar asked again, as if genuinely curious.

{{My designation is BLOA-0992, caretaker and subroutine manager of the ship ⌿⍀⍜⎐⟟⎅⏃⋏☊⟒. Though you are mistaken, I am not a lifeform}}

Despite the machine's assertion, the oily appearance of its 'skin' and bulging along what could only be described as a torso betrayed something more organic than machine beneath what the researcher could see. A small appendage at its side hung limply, like a vestigial limb, though its true purpose was unknown.

The Captain considered the information, deciding to respond to the...being's first query. "Though it may seem odd, no, we do have a name, and that name is Improper Classifications." He chuckled. "I don't understand it either, but according to our Constitution, it's based on some old text."

The Captain then got an idea. "But this is all beside the point. I'd like to make a deal with you folks." He gestured to a small data-storing device he was holding, and then at the wider ship ⌿⍀⍜⎐⟟⎅⏃⋏☊⟒. "It looks to me as if you aren't exactly in tip-top shape. I think we could help with that. You've got a busted power transfer system and widespread communications failure, and we happen to carry plenty of extras of components for those systems. In return" - he gestured to the data device again - "when y'all are on your way, mayhaps you can tell the rest of this cloudforsaken galaxy who we are. There's plenty of information on this drive to give 'em."

He looked upwards at the pillar. "How's about it?"

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