Intergalactic peacekeepers INTRO

Born for service, trained for war — today, you become a peacekeeper of the Empire.

Intergalactic U.P.F Peacekeepers

14 August 2389

The year is 2389. Humanity has made countless technological and social progresses, including free clean renewable energy, world peace, eradicating world hunger, and has scaled to a tier 2 civilization on the Kardashev scale. Humanity is well on its way to becoming a tier 3 civilization and has claimed many more scientific and societal advancements. But the most important one of all — faster-than-light travel — has not only been achieved but surpassed, with spaceships that can instantly teleport anywhere in our entire local star sector spanning 1.5 light years in diameter, thanks to a complicated network of ever-expanding planetary-wide installations called arrays.

Earth has advanced beyond its limited reach into the cosmos and put behind its tens of thousands of years of history, uniting as one to face the vast and terrifying unknown void. What were once warring countries are now at peace; former foes are now friends. No man is of a particular planet, country, race, family, or religion — all are united under one banner: the human planetary empire.

The empire spreads to a gargantuan size, from Mercury to our nearest neighbor star, Proxima Centauri. It has grown to be one of the biggest empires in the whole trans-galactic community. Cities are now the size of former countries. Trillions of humans are part of the empire, and countless alien races have made contact with humanity. Many of them are now allied with humans, and the empire has entered a peaceful era.

It is your job as a United Planetary Front peacekeeper to maintain that peace. Indeed, peace comes at a price. Not every sentient species is peaceful. Many are power-hungry barbarian hordes of horrendous killing machines, relentlessly attempting to destroy anything in their path. And it is you that stands before them to protect those who cannot defend themselves — to protect the fatherland, its borders, its ideals, its people, your people, your home, your empire.

You were born as a cadet into the U.P.F training facility itself, chosen while still in your mother's belly. She was overcome with joy to have the privilege to give up a son for the glory of the human empire. From as far back as you can remember, you’ve been programmed to know every exercise, every rule, every protocol. All of this has been hardwired into you since birth.

You have been trained for 20 years in almost machine-like constant protocols and rules. It will finally be put to use as you are deployed along with your fellow peacekeepers aboard a brand-new line of Protector-class U.P.F ships. There you will scour the vast empire looking for any threats — enemy ships, raiders, pirates, dangerous xenos, and other menaces to the empire.

Earth U.P.F Training Base, Potsdam, Former Germany — 14 August 2389, 05:00 AM

As you wake up from cryo-sleep, void of any dreams beyond simulated training scenarios, you stand before your sleep pod awaiting your commanding officer to perform the morning headcount before moving to the canteen to receive your daily ration of nutrients. You’re looking forward to Admiral Gideon Drox’s speech, finally inducting you as an official peacekeeper of the intergalactic United Planetary Front.

You’ve never seen the admiral yourself, but the lucky few who have say he is a man of commanding stature with a piercing gaze. You can’t help but wonder if this is true. Your incredibly rare daydreaming is interrupted by your commanding officer entering the room as the automatic doors swoosh open. The moment he enters, you and all your fellow cadets snap to attention, boots collectively slapping the concrete floor as the whole squad salutes him.

Your C.O orders a quick headcount, not bothering to salute back. One by one, you shout your assigned ID number, then he quickly walks out and moves on to the next room. You’re left standing at attention, waiting for the C.O to finish going room to room to complete the headcount. You can hear the other cadets in the neighboring dormitories repeat the same ritual. You’re so used to waiting each morning that you know exactly when he will be done and have memorized all the ID numbers of each of your comrades in this wing of the dormitories.

You have done this whole ordeal more times than you can remember; it’s now second nature. Sometimes, you even do the whole thing half-asleep. Then, exactly 6 minutes and 30 seconds later, the sound of a bell is heard through the dormitories. Instantly, you and your whole squad of 10 cadets line up in a neat column in front of the now-opened automatic door. Then another bell rings, and you find yourself standing in a 60-foot-long hallway alongside a wall. Before you are four more columns of 10 men, and behind are five more on each side of the hallway. Then yet another bell rings, and you all begin marching in unison towards the canteen.

You march in silence, the only noise being the sound of boots in perfect unison. Exactly 24 steps later, you arrive at your destination, where you find your senior commanding officer — an old man with a short, stocky build and thick grey mustache. He is standing silently in front of you, scrutinizing your every breath. Despite all the years you’ve done this, the tension is still suffocating.

Suddenly, another bell rings, this time in the canteen. The first column springs to action, grabbing a full plate of colorless and tasteless nutrient paste along with a pitcher of water and a glass. They silently sit at a nearby long metal table. The senior commanding officer watches them intently until another bell rings, and the next column moves to collect their trays and sit at their assigned table — and so on, until everyone is seated.

Another bell sounds, and everyone begins eating. Still in absolute silence, speaking or making any sound is not permitted during eating time, and those who break the rule are heavily reprimanded. You once broke that rule by accidentally sneezing during a speech given by the senior C.O. and were sent to a Martian mining operation for five days as punishment. You now remain cautious to not make any sound whatsoever.

Exactly 5 minutes later, another bell rings. The first column to have sat down gets up, silently grabs their plates, forks, and glasses, and deposits them at a nearby cleaning station. Food wastage is not permitted, and recruits must finish their meals when the sound cue is heard, else they will be reprimanded. They then stand in front of the exit.

The operation repeats until everyone is done. Then the S.C.O walks to the front of the file, and as yet another bell rings, you all begin walking toward the hangar. There, you see a giant hangar full of spaceships of various sizes and builds. You see dozens of other files of cadets walking in the hangar, and when the whole regiment of cadets is in the hangar, another, much louder bell rings. The entire 1,200 men freeze in place. You find yourself amidst your comrades.

Despite the large number of people, not a single sound is heard. Absolute silence and discipline are a sacred rule of the base, a way to honor soldiers who have given their lives in the name of the greater good. It is akin to a charterhouse. Silence is perceived as an almost constant moment of reverence for fallen comrades.

You look around, careful to only move your eyes and then only slightly to not stand out. You see all your comrades — people you have lived your whole life with, friends, brothers, and sisters. To finally serve the human empire alongside them fills you with a sense of empowerment, like you could take on entire solar systems and come out victorious.

You can’t help but crack a discreet grin, which your commanding officer notices. Fear visibly flashes over your face, and you quickly erase your grin. Your C.O doesn’t say anything, likely not wanting to make a scene.

After 10 minutes of waiting, you see none other than Lieutenant Admiral Gideon Drox. He confidently strides onto the stage, his presence commanding praise and acclamation from the eager batch of new recruits in an exceptionally rare moment of disorder. With a simple wave of his hand, the roar of the crowd dies down, and the entire regiment seems to freeze in place. He begins his powerful speech, his voice filled with passion and determination.

“Listen up, soldiers!”

His hoarse voice booms across the vast hangar with more strength than you anticipated.

“Today is a day like no other in your life. Today, you stand where countless others have stood. You have proven your worth as a champion of humanity. You have endured for years and have overcome difficulties some would believe impossible.

You have surpassed all of our expectations as a cadet and have shown true resilience as well as passion. That very same fiery passion that has burned in the hearts of hordes of soldiers before you — and that burns in your hearts now — let it be the same one that fuels your love for the United Planetary Front.

The very same burning, incandescent love that pushed you to give your life to the United Planetary Front — a noble sacrifice that shall be honored for generations to come, as you have your whole life.

Now, as I look into this crowd, I no longer see cadets, but fierce and heroic intergalactic peacekeepers. You shall wear that title with the pride and honor it deserves — and shall die before relinquishing what you have fought so incredibly hard for.

You alone stand for the safety and prosperity of our united human empire. You shall stand as a paragon of heroism, as a protector of the weak, a judge to the unjust, an executioner to the murderer, and a gentle consoler to the downtrodden.

BROTHERS, SISTERS, HEROES, CHAMPIONS — I, Lieutenant Admiral Gideon Drox, salute you!”

All at once, and as a roaring wave that makes your spine tingle, the entire facility moves united as one indivisible, unstoppable force to return Lieutenant Admiral Gideon’s salute — in a deafening bang heard from the deepest ends of the universe, serving as a warning to the enemies of mankind.