Faction The Free Worlds Unity Summit (OPEN TO ALL)

[Voice for Choice]

CONFEDERACY OF FREE WORLDS

THE FREE WORLDS UNITY SUMMIT

​

Raxus Secundus

The galaxy had spent centuries being shaped by the ambitions of the powerful.

Empires had risen. Republics had fractured. Warlords, corporations, alliances, and ideologues had all promised order, prosperity, or security. Some had delivered. Many had not. Yet through every age of upheaval, one truth endured: the fate of a world was best decided by those who called it home.

That belief had drawn delegates, dignitaries, merchants, military observers, activists, explorers, and curious citizens from across known space to Raxus Secundus.
The invitation had been simple.

Come as free worlds. Leave as something greater.

Hosted by President Corvin Veylan, the Free Worlds Unity Summit represented the first major gathering held under the banner of the Confederacy of Free Worlds. Though the organization itself remained young—and its mysterious founder remained conspicuously absent—the movement had already begun attracting attention throughout the galaxy.

Some came seeking allies.
Some came seeking opportunity.
Some came seeking answers.

Others came simply to see whether this new Confederacy was destined to become a lasting force or merely another idealistic dream.

Across the capital, banners of participating worlds hung beside those of Raxus. Conference halls buzzed with diplomatic activity. Security forces maintained a visible but measured presence. News organizations broadcast around the clock. Trade representatives exchanged business cards faster than some senators exchanged speeches.

For several days, Raxus would become the center of galactic attention.

What happened here might shape the future of dozens of worlds.

Or it might simply be remembered as the place where conversations began.

Either way, history was watching.

OBJECTIVE I
THE UNITY SUMMIT

[[OPEN TO ANY SYSTEM REPRESENTATIVES SEEKING INFORMATION ABOUT MEMBERSHIP]]

Within the grand halls of the Raxus Assembly Complex, delegates from governments, planetary coalitions, independent systems, frontier settlements, and established powers gather to discuss the future of interstellar cooperation.

The Confederacy of Free Worlds seeks dialogue with potential member systems and partner organizations. Panels, debates, private negotiations, trade discussions, security forums, and constitutional workshops are taking place throughout the summit.

Will your representatives advocate for membership?
Will they oppose the Confederacy’s vision?
Will rival powers attempt to influence proceedings behind closed doors?

Or will entirely new alliances emerge from conversations held in the corridors between sessions?

The future of the Confederacy is being written one discussion at a time.

OBJECTIVE II
THE REBUILD TION GALA

[[OPEN TO ALL]]

As evening falls, the summit’s most prestigious social event begins.

Hosted in support of the Rebuild Tion Coalition, the gala serves as both a fundraiser and a symbol of recovery for worlds still rebuilding from conflict, instability, and economic hardship.

Nobles mingle with industrialists.

Celebrities share tables with military veterans.

Corporate sponsors compete for attention while charitable organizations seek support for reconstruction efforts across the Tion Cluster.

Auctions, performances, speeches, and private donations fill the evening’s agenda.

For some attendees, the gala represents an opportunity to help those in need.

For others, it is the perfect venue to secure business arrangements, political connections, or influence among the galaxy’s movers and shakers.

Not every deal is made in a conference chamber.

Some are made over fine wine beneath crystal chandeliers.

BRING YOUR OWN OBJECTIVE

The summit has attracted thousands of visitors from every corner of known space.

Perhaps your character has arrived to negotiate a private agreement.

Perhaps they are pursuing an old rival through crowded convention halls.

Perhaps they are showcasing a new product, recruiting personnel, investigating rumors, gathering intelligence, covering the event as a journalist, performing security duties, or simply enjoying the festivities.

The summit grounds, surrounding city districts, hotels, markets, entertainment venues, and orbital facilities are all open for exploration.

The Free Worlds Unity Summit is more than a conference.

It is a crossroads.

And at a crossroads, anything can happen.

 

[Orla Soren]

FRONTIER VOICES​

A FRONTIER INSTITUTE BROADCAST • INDEPENDENCE • INTEGRITY • DISCOVERY​

THE UNITY SUMMIT

• Location: Raxus Secundus
• Attire: This
• Tags: OPEN

The security checkpoint was not quite what Orla Soren had expected. Not because it was excessive. If anything, it was exactly what one would expect when heads of state, corporate leaders, military representatives, and political hopefuls from across the Outer Rim all gathered in one place. Security personnel moved with practiced efficiency, scanners hummed quietly, and attendees flowed through in an orderly procession.

Still, she approached the desk with confidence, producing her press credentials. The officer glanced down at them before offering an apologetic smile.

"Sorry, ma'am. Press isn't being admitted to the Summit."

Orla blinked. "That's odd," she replied. "I was asked to attend."

The officer looked up. "Name?"

"Orla Soren."

The security officer tapped a few commands into a datapad. A moment later his expression changed. "Ah. There you are. Guest of President Veylan."

Orla raised an eyebrow. "Well, that explains it." The officer slid a visitor credential across the counter.

"Welcome to the Summit."

She accepted the badge with a shrug. Whatever the reason Corvin Veylan had put her on the list, it apparently outranked her press credentials.

Just as she started to move on, another security officer pointed toward the small camera drone hovering dutifully at her shoulder. "That won't be permitted inside."

Orla looked at the droid. The droid looked back. "Sorry," she said with a small smile. "You'll have to sit this one out." The drone emitted an unhappy series of chirps. "I know. Terrible injustice. Wait outside." After a brief moment of protest, the droid reluctantly drifted away toward the designated holding area.

Orla adjusted the visitor badge and continued through the checkpoint. The sight waiting beyond it brought a grin to her face. Representatives from dozens of worlds filled the summit hall. Some were familiar faces she had interviewed before. Others were names she had only ever encountered in reports, briefings, and political rumors. Conversations rose and fell throughout the room as alliances, partnerships, and possibilities were explored.

For years she had written articles arguing that independent systems needed stronger ties with one another. That isolated worlds were vulnerable worlds. That cooperation offered opportunities no single planet could achieve alone. And now someone had actually organized a summit around the very idea.

She couldn't deny that she was excited. What she couldn't quite figure out was why she was here. Orla held no office. No military command. No corporate empire. She wasn't a governor, president, senator, or ambassador.

She was a reporter. A reporter who suddenly found herself standing among people who could shape the future of entire star systems. With a quiet chuckle, she looked around the gathering once more.

"Well," she muttered to herself, "guess I'd better figure out what I'm doing here."

ORLA SOREN • Director, Frontier Institute • Host, Frontier Voices
"Understanding begins where assumptions end."
​

 

[Aurelia Pantilles]

THE REBUILD TION GALA

Aurelia Pantilles had spent enough time around politics to recognize irony when she saw it. Just beyond the walls of the gala, delegates, presidents, ministers, and representatives debated the future of free worlds. New alliances would be forged. New promises would be made. The shape of a growing democratic movement in the Outer Rim would begin to take form. And she was not in the room.

The thought lingered as she stepped from her speeder and into the elegant halls prepared for the Rebuild Tion Coalition's fundraising gala.

Aurelia understood why. New Alderaan had not yet decided what it wanted to become. The election remained unfinished. The future remained uncertain. Until the people spoke, she represented no government but only herself and the ideals she championed.

Still, she would have preferred a seat at the summit table. Instead, she settled for being as close to it as possible. The young noblewoman entered the gala beneath towering banners of green and white, the colors of the fledgling Confederacy standing proudly among displays dedicated to the reconstruction efforts throughout the Tion Cluster. Crystal chandeliers and suspended starlight illuminators cast warm reflections across polished floors while wealthy patrons, diplomats, industrialists, and philanthropists mingled beneath them.

Aurelia looked every bit the part of a galactic aristocrat. Her gown flowed in layered folds of deep navy and black, accented by intricate gold embroidery that caught the light with every movement. The high collar and elegant neckline framed her features while long draping sleeves and a sweeping train gave her an almost regal silhouette. Gold jewelry adorned her wrists and neck with understated refinement rather than excess. Dark hair had been gathered into an elegant updo, save for a few carefully loose tendrils that framed her face.

The dress had been selected to project confidence. It was unfortunate that confidence was considerably cheaper than campaign advertising.

Aurelia suppressed a quiet sigh.

Most of her personal wealth had vanished into the machinery of a democratic movement that many still believed impossible. Organizers needed funding. Outreach required transports. Volunteers required supplies. Every credit spent on New Alderaan was a credit she could not casually donate tonight.

That fact bothered her more than she cared to admit. The reconstruction of Tion was a worthy cause. Entire worlds and communities were still struggling to recover from years of conflict and neglect. She fully intended to contribute what she could. It simply wasn't as much as she wished it could be.

As she accepted a glass from a passing server, Aurelia's gaze drifted toward the direction of the summit chambers. Somewhere beyond those walls, discussions were already underway. Somewhere in those discussions was Orla Soren. A small smile touched her lips.

If anyone could find herself in the middle of important political developments while technically not being part of them, it was Orla. And if information began flowing from the summit floor, Aurelia suspected her friend would hear it before most official channels did.

For now, however, there was little to do but wait. So Aurelia turned her attention back to the gala, offering warm greetings to those she recognized and polite introductions to those she did not. She moved through the crowd with practiced grace, listening more than speaking, collecting impressions, rumors, and opinions from every corner of the room.

The summit might be behind closed doors. But politics rarely stayed there for long.

Aurelia Vaene Pantilles

• Location: Raxus Secundus
• Objective: Mingle, support democracy, hope for news.
• Outfit: Gala Gown
• Company: OPEN