Earth - Year 2105 began with wars, resource embargoes, covert strikes. By the time the Great War ignited, A border conflict turned to nuclear escalation. What followed was not simply war, but eradication. Automated armies battled across continents. Weather-control satellites were weaponized. Artificial intelligences went rogue, selecting targets based on probabilities and pattern recognition rather than diplomacy or mercy.
The death toll? Incalculable.
In the smoldering silence that followed the ceasefire, the fractured remnants of nations came together—not out of unity, but out of shared desperation. Earth had become a relic of what was, not what could be. In the ruins of Baalbek, a global coalition formed. No longer focused on borders, it looked skyward instead.
The Exodus Begins
The Coalition of Earth Nations (CEN) launched Project in 2132 an ambitious initiative to seed humanity across the stars. Technological innovation surged. Warp drives, once theoretical, became the cornerstone of interstellar travel. Terraforming protocols reshaped dead rocks into habitable outposts. The Moon became a shipyard, Mars a capital.
Humanity spread like a wildfire through the solar system. By 2200, colonies were thriving. By 2500, deep-space probes revealed hundreds of potential worlds. Some were lush, others barren. All became targets for expansion.
New cultures emerged. Colonists on Europa grew pale and tall under the moon's pressure domes. On Phobos, children played in half-gravity parks. Languages blended. Culture formed. A new era had begun.
But peace, as history had taught, was a fragile thing.
By 2887, exploration ships ventured into systems far beyond our system. And in 2893, the Argus Nova made first contact.
They were not alone.
The Ilyrians. Graceful. Silicon-based. A civilization that had reached the stars before Earth was molten. At first, the interactions were peaceful and curious exchanges between two distant peoples. Treaties were written. Trade began.
But contact begot caution. And caution bred fear.
Humanity, still bearing the trauma of its self-destruction, acted with suspicion. Some believed the Ilyrians manipulated economics, seeding instability in border colonies. Whether it was true didn't matter. Perception became reality.
In 2910, the Mercer Incident occurred a human mining vessel was destroyed in Ilyrian territory. The cause was unclear. Each side blamed the other.
And then the war began.
It was called the Ten Light War, but it spanned centuries. The Ilyrians were not the only species caught in the crossfire. Dozens of intelligent civilizations, previously isolated, were drawn into the conflict. Entire galaxy was glassed. Space stations converted into battlefronts. Moons shattered.
Humanity revealed its duality. Some waged war with honor. Others without restraint. But from the carnage, heroes emerged. Legends forged in the vacuum. And through the violence, something rare occurred:
Unity.
Factions of humanity, once rivals, aligned against a common threat. Fleet commanders from Europa fought beside generals from Mars and soldiers from asteroid colonies. They became more than human.
After 361 years of war,In the year 3271 a peace summit was held above the ruins of Vel'Thara, a neutral planet once home to a thousand cultures, now a scarred tomb. The bloodshed had become too costly. The surviving powers—alien and human alike—formed the Alliance Nation, an interstellar cooperative dedicated to peace, science, and shared sovereignty.
For humanity, joining the Alliance meant prosperity. Access to technology beyond comprehension. Cure for ancient diseases. The keys to wormhole stabilizers, temporal drive dampeners, energy crystallization.
But with prosperity came change.
The human calendar was abandoned. In its place, the Sol Standard was adopted—a temporal system measured by galactic cycles. One Sol year equaled 78 Earth years. Time itself was stretched to reflect humanity's new place among the stars.
Not all were willing to embrace this future.
Half of humanity viewed the Alliance as capitulation. To them, sovereignty had been sold for peace. Pride wounded, these factions left the core systems, sailing to the galactic fringe. There, among asteroid belts and forgotten nebulas, they built something new.
They became the Exiles.
In the lawless outer rim, pirates ruled and trade was paid in plasma, not promises. The Exiles adapted. They built ships from salvaged wrecks. Crafted weapons from mining . They fought, bartered, and survived.
Generations passed.
The Exiles became a people. Hardened by cosmic storms and alien horrors, they honed their ruthlessness into doctrine. Children learned to pilot at age seven. At fifteen, they raided. At twenty, they commanded fleets.
They did not forget their origin. Nor their betrayal.
Sol 7843 (human year 3912) The second galactic war did not begin with a declaration, but a broadcasted execution of a border ambassador by a rogue pirate king.
What followed was chaos. Frontier systems burned. Trade lanes severed. Worlds fell silent.
The Exiles, once fragmented, rallied under a new leader: Captain Aric Solis. Born of fire, raised in vacuum, he united the splintered fleets into a single banner.
The EDTA Republic.(Exiles Democratic Terrestrial Alliance)
Efficient. Deadly. United.
Over decades, they dismantled pirate factions, turned former enemies into allies, and launched surgical strikes against supply chains and slave colonies. They became a storm the galaxy could not ignore.
Victory came not in one battle, but through attrition. Through grit. Through an understanding of survival few others possessed.
In Sol 7845, the Alliance summoned its leaders. They met aboard the Concordia, a neutral superstructure orbiting the galactic center. And there, with the eyes of a thousand species watching, the Treaty of EDTA was signed.
The EDTA Republic would rule half the galaxy's fringe worlds. Its independence is recognized. Its sovereignty respected.