Human

Determined. Divided. Dominant.

Two centuries have passed since the First Expansionary Fleet entered the Tartarus Cluster, and humans have quickly taken to their new home. While some long-lived natives like the Sillibar and the Yarasi still consider humans invaders, the Seraphim Dominion now controls hundreds of colonies scattered across dozens of sectors, making it the largest power in the region.

Like many sapient races in the known galaxy, humanity did not reach the stars on its own. Humans were forcibly dragged from their homeworld of Keledon by the Tarreen, a brutal race whose empire once controlled most of known space. For hundreds of years, humans were one of the major slave races of the empire, even serving as a genetic template for other Tarreen servitor species. But thanks to the Seraph’s legacy, humanity—and most of the known galaxy—is finally free of the Tarreen.

Most humans serving in the Dominion Fleet can trace their ancestry back to one of the core human worlds of Keledon, Eladrell, Praxius, or Regdar. While this is also true of colony-born humans, years of advanced genetic engineering and selective breeding practices have widened the gap to the point that some extremist groups believe that humanity is no longer one race.

Nearly all humans live under the banner of the Dominion, but that doesn’t mean that humanity is unified. There are deep and festering divisions, particularly between the military and colonial forces. Humans born on the Pride of Keledon, the massive mothership at the heart of the Dominion Fleet, are given every conceivable advantage, from psio-genetic engineering to the best telepathic flash learning techniques in the Cluster. Disparagingly called “jennies” by native Colonials, these men and women are the de facto social, political, and military elite. Those with psionic abilities are called Seraphim.

Meanwhile, natural-born humans from the Colonies—so-called “natties”—often live desperate lives on backwater planets ruled by heartless corporations, ruthless criminal syndicates, or even brutish alien warlords. For many natties, the only hope of advancement is to enlist in the military—not as a fleet officer, but as a ground pounder. These ’pounders serve on the front lines of planetary conflicts, often performing thankless duties while struggling to earn enough recognition to become enlisted officers.  

Art Credit: Ullr2020