Reposting finished sheet so it doesn't get lost in old pages.
The Conflux is ostensibly a liberal and prosperous, if somewhat bellicose and reclusive union of culturally young species growing and developing under the benevolent oversight of the powerful skirol. What the galaxy knows about it and its true nature are, however, entirely different things. Behind its bright and vibrant facade of disinformation, the Conflux is a predatory hegemony where the skirol rule over hordes of mutated grunts and prisoners of monstrous abattoir worlds, and barter with the flesh of sapients degraded to cattle.
The history of the Conflux is, belying the truth about its structure, mostly that of the skirol. Once one of many parasitic species plaguing the megafauna of their homeworld, they outcompeted their evolutionary rivals not through symbiosis with their hosts, as many others had tried, but by growing increasingly malignant, large and ferocious. By the time they crawled their way to sentience, they had become the apex of the food chain; and, by the time their disparate civilisations had mastered space travel, the once fertile planet had been mostly scoured of life, not so much by rampant exploitation as by the unfortunately specialised alimentary needs of its inhabitants. Curiously, the skirol never formed a unified planetary government. A generally accepted explanation is that the need for one was obviated by the rarity of armed conflicts and international regulations being disfavoured relatively to case-by-case diplomatic agreements, though many historians believe this to be an oversimplification.
The foundations of the Conflux proper were only laid when the skirol discovered that they were not alone in the galaxy. A prospecting interstellar expedition by the Accord of Theniax, then a relatively minor nation, encountered a pre-spacefaring species in a newly discovered system. The skirol had a difficult time coming to grips with the idea that anything else could be intelligent in the same way as them, something many are still not fully convinced of to this day. It did not help matters that most of the Accord subscribed to the aggressive faith of the Wurm Raslir, whose cosmology left little room for friendly contact. Though inferior in numbers to an entire planet’s people, Theniax had vastly superior technology and the advantage of orbital control. The newly met species, its original name stricken and forgotten, was pillaged, enslaved and processed to be fit for consumption by the skirol. Willing collaborators were “rewarded” by being subjected to experimental augmentation procedures and, if they survived, accepted by a society that thought little of their betrayal. Almost overnight, the Accord became a major player on the market and political scene, which contributed to the spread of the religion of the Wurm until it surpassed many of the previously dominant confessions.
The Reaping of Irret-Thenn, as it became known, gave an explosive new motivation for interstellar colonisation and set a precedent for future contact. The skirol had discovered a taste for intelligent meat, and wherever they happened over the miracle of life, which they were lucky enough to do a few times more in the following centuries, their sleek, spiny ships descended like a hungry swarm, subjugating, harvesting, and uplifting defectors to bolster their forces.
Although their intentions never changed, and indeed have not to this day, the skirol’s first clashes with other spacefaring powers made them rethink their strategy. Faced with prey they could not overwhelm through brute force and fearing that they would face war on all fronts if their practices came to light, their governments, in an unprecedented display of joint effort, assembled to build an enormous masquerade that spanned the entirety of skirol-held space. The Harmonious Conflux of the Hundred Suns, as it was known at the time, was formed as an international organ with sweeping authority to curtail and oversee external communication, projecting an aseptically neutral and rather enigmatic public image. The burgeoning population descended from the various uplifted inductees, now largely mutated and modified beyond recognition, was rebranded as a number of minor protectorates, and the existence of the conquered harvest worlds became a dark secret hidden in the depths of Conflux space.
Nevertheless, the skirol’s hunger for new tastes only grew, and with subterfuge instead of force they had only traded one weapon for another. Where mere expansionism was judged unacceptable, finding more civil pretexts to skirmish with their neighbours, and not only, became a favourite sport. From border disputes over some drifting asteroid to false flags set up by uplift mercenaries, Conflux forces made a habit of sweeping into their targets’ backwater colonial holdings on the flimsiest casus belli, abducting the population and concealing the strange disappearances with massive collateral damage. The conflict was then smothered in protracted negotiations, and usually ended with the offer of token reparations, though this was of little comfort to the captives, en route to becoming the latest flavour on the market. Of course, when the skirol were confident enough of their superiority, formalities were forgone altogether, and small colonies just inexplicably vanished before anyone could tell what hit them. An entire industry sprang up around this sort of raiding, from specialist harvester companies to teams of treaty loophole-seekers, and in time it grew to become one of the main pillars supporting the economy of the Conflux, by then already comprising Innumerate Suns and having spread into a catch-all term for skirol holdings and activities.
Needless to say, the advent of the Ashtar hit it badly. While at first they flatly disregarded the imposition of peace and gleefully carried on with their hit-and-runs, they quickly found that not even their raiding fleets, whose speed and stealth were the pride of skirol engineering, could outrun retribution. Growing furious and desperate as this once hugely profitable niche was choked, threatening their entire market, they struck at the Ashtar directly, sending droves of warships against their response parties, but only succeeded in wearing themselves down.
The worst, however, was yet to come. With as little warning as they did anything, the Ashtar struck at the Conflux’s harvest worlds, bypassing their outermost defensive perimeters altogether. The skirol guards were scattered, their stranglehold over the planets shattered, and centuries of conditioning and forced obedience were undone in a matter of hours, former captives shaking off the constraints of a lifetime. It was a miracle that the skirol's cover held at all, mostly owing to everyone else having better things to keep them busy and what information got out being later dismissed as provocations spread by rebellious subjects. Cornered and heavily wounded where it had never expected a blow, the Conflux gathered the largest warfleet in its history and prepared to attack the Ashtar head-on, regardless of the disparity of forces. Or, at least, it tried. Individual battlegroups were intercepted, gathering points were blockaded, and the final assembled force, mere scraps of its projected magnitude, was faced with the imposing mass of Prevailing Tranquility. Threatened with complete annihilation, the skirol had no choice but to resign themselves to a heavily downsized diet and market, though their resentment grew and festered.
By the time the Ashtar disappeared, the Conflux was starved for fresh meat and on the brink of economic collapse, having been deprived both of its old conquests and the lucrative raids. It is thus little wonder that it was at the forefront when the Great War erupted, looking to make up for lost time by gobbling up as many people as it could, appearances be damned. However, it soon became clear that all its rage had little of a punch behind it; built for rapid and precise tactical operations, its military had never been prepared for sustained conflict. Attrition took its toll, even as its forces were spread thin by the simultaneous effort of retaking the liberated harvest worlds, and when the Madrigasa talks came about the Conflux dragged itself to the table beaten and broken, with few real gains to show for it.
Yet those few scrapings proved vital, giving a brief reprieve for the Innumerate Suns to sustain themselves as they turned their attention inward to sharply reorganise their workings. The Detente saw heavy work on the harvest worlds, which were rebuilt and reshaped into streamlined breeding grounds. In a bold move that many feared would threaten the Conflux’s facade, but was ultimately recognised as necessary, the market was opened to external trade, (supposed) slaves in particular becoming a valued commodity both as imports and exports. Along with offering a much-needed influx of foreign wealth, many saw this as an opportunity to smooth over the skirol’s reputation in at least some corners of the international stage after a litigious and belligerent past.
This period of revolutions had, however, some adverse effects as well. The seeds of radical ideological movements had been sown during the hardships of the past recession, and a changing society brought them to the fore. Rogue underground factions gained alarming power, and their sometimes unsubtle machinations more than once strained both Detente and masquerade to their limits.
Incidentally, those same rogue factions gave the Conflux a convenient excuse when the Message pointed the way to Agdemnar, and officially the skirol force that has dug in on the planet is controlled by any number of extremist groups. Still, the roots of conspiracy have had decades to sink deep into its reconstructed society, and sometimes the brains at high command themselves wonder just how much of that is merely a cover story.
Vesereth: The homeworld of the skirol, once shared along millennia-old repartitions by their elder nations, has gradually been overtaken by the Conflux’s administration as the organisation’s significance grew, and now serves as the de facto capital of the Innumerate Suns. While most of the old polities maintain a token presence in culturally and historically important places, most of the planet is considered neutral ground. This makes it a favoured meeting ground for settling diplomatic disputes, as well as being the neural center of the Conflux’s activities of communications, transit, market and to an extent military oversight. The planet’s heavily urbanised surface is an amalgamation of architectural styles as diverse as many are ancient, with remains of its peculiar megafauna ecosystem surviving only in sparse reservations.
Giaxil: The Lisrak Covenant has, for most of skirol history, been the largest and most powerful sovereign state to stretch its holdings beyond Vesereth, and in some aspects this still holds true. Though temporary outpaced when Theniax struck it rich with the Reaping, the old money of the Conflux more than recouped its losses with the rise of the raiding industry, and for a long time dominated the niche with its unequaled military might. The post-bellum need for remodernisation only served to cement its position as the strongest pillar of Conflux’s military-industrial complex. The seat of the Lisrak government embodies this role, being a bustling hive of factories, laboratories, military compouds and marketplaces of all calibers. Life on Giaxil is busy to the point of being frantic, but also famously well-paid.
Ur’Theniax: In many ways the polar opposite of Lisrak, the Accord of Theniax never shifted its attention away from its resounding success in the Reaping, instead choosing to capitalise on the practice of world harvesting and its various products. Besides swelling to obscene wealth through careful exploitation of the flesh trade, biotechnological research sponsored by it made leaps and bounds thanks to the abundance of high-quality subjects that were ethically and legally free game, its society was always the most progressive in its acceptance of uplifted Acolytes, and its patronage of the church of the Wurm let it reap the rewards of its cultural primacy. In contrast with Giaxil, its capital of Ur’Theniax is a clean, quiet and photogenic paradise, decorated with ample stretches of unspoiled nature. It is ideal estate for research facilities, elite trading hubs (usually dealing more with stocks than the actual deal), religious centers and luxury estates for wealthy skirol or successful Acolytes.
The Silent Maw: Located at the fringes of Conflux space and the one of the few places in it freely accessible to outsiders, the Silent Maw is one of the most concrete signs of the social restructuring that has pervaded the Innumerate Suns. This vast, well-fortified habitat station, strategically placed at a convergence of several local transit routes, is the greatest slave trading hub in skirol territory, and certainly one of, if not the largest in the galaxy altogether. While maintained by the Conflux itself, the nature of the business that takes place on it such that some concessions need to be made for more legally dubious clientele, and thus, despite standard surveillance and the application of tax rates, transactions can easily be held in complete anonymity.
Kardatt: During the Detente-era industry reforms, the reconquered harvest worlds, the Conflux’s closest-held secret, underwent radical renovations to become the backbone of the now once more insular flesh trade. Kardatt, one of the last inhabited planets to be conquered in the first period of skirol expansion, and thus comparatively less ruinated by rampant exploitation, was the prototype of the chillingly efficient new model, and remains a symbol of the undertaking’s success. Heavily defended and camouflaged, the planet is a hell of assembly lines, breeding pens, cloning chambers and worse, regularly churning out herds of debased beings to sate the skirol’s hunger.
Skirol: A species of malignant parasites who grew to exceed the size, strength and intelligence usually held by such organisms, but never lost their voracity and primitive non-dimorphic, worm-like appearance. Their prehensile branching tongues supply to the needs of fine manipulation, though nowadays most prefer to use mechanical prosthetic aid. In ideal conditions, they can live for a surprisingly long time, exceeding several centuries even unaugmented; however, this is generally only achieved by the wealthiest among them. Strictly carnivorous, skirol, in an atavistic throwback, prefer consuming their prey alive, slowly draining it of fluids and externally digested organs before finishing the desiccated body in a few bites of their bone-breakingly powerful jaws. Psintegrat aptitude among them is unusually rare, though those that do show potential can develop tremendous powers.
Acolytes: A blanket term for beings descended from the minorities of conquered populations that willingly joined the skirol. Generations of bio-augmentic tinkering and simply living among their masters have long made every Acolyte unrecognisable as the species their ancestors had once been, their bodies warped beyond nature and their minds overtaken by an alien culture. Having abandoned every vestige of their old lifestyles out of scorn, desire to integrate into the dominant society, or simple convenience, they mostly reproduce through cloning or artificial parthenogenesis. While they can be divided into a number of mostly stable breeds, every Acolyte is a biologically unique entity, shaped by a free choice of augmentations and distinguishing marks of their occupation.
Others: The ones you won’t find in any census or galactic atlas. Despite forming a sizable percentage of the Conflux’s overall population, the inhabitants of subjugated planets are not recognised as sapient members of it. Bred in gigantic factories that were once their homeworlds, they are treated, sold and devoured like cattle by the skirol, and centuries of debasement have indeed left most of them mentally little better than animals. Those that do reach the public eye do so as exotic slaves from allegedly primitive worlds. In late pre-Ashtar times, this category has been expanded to include the victims of abduction raids, who are likewise subjected to the same treatment.
Traditionally, the structure of skirol society has rested on the notion of the trezklin. This word, loosely translatable as “swarm” (though much of its meaning is lost), denotes a large, but tightly bound family unit living and working in close vicinity. Spanning various levels of more or less extended kinship, trezklin are extremely diverse in size; the smallest might count around a dozen members, while the largest number in the hundreds, and in some cases even the low thousands. Those numbers are, naturally, in constant fluctuation as some leave the family web to join another or found their own nucleus, and others are conversely taken in as they come to join a new mate or several. Single skirol living outside a trezklin are not quite uncommon, and are growing progressively less so in modern times, but are still regarded as eccentrics.
The reason for this is that, now as thousands of years ago, by and large it is the trezklin, and not the individual, that is considered the minimal formant unit of society. Jobs have historically been, rather than positions to be filled by fungible appropriately skilled workers, dynastic traditions upheld by the members of the same trezklin over the generations. The staff of a facility, the crew of a ship, an entire military unit; each of these was, and in many places still is, far more often than not a family in addition to everything else. Young skirol were quite literally born into their roles, and raised accordingly. This did not, however, negate social mobility; those dissatisfied with their position could seek membership of a different trezklin, if they were accepted and proved they possessed the necessary aptitudes, and units judged to be underperforming by those higher in the hierarchy (itself a rather complex notion; more details in the government description) could be downgraded to a lower position and replaced.
While this system has held from the birth of skirol civilisation, ever since the species began to expand into interplanetary space its inflexibility and difficulty in adapting to the needs of spacefaring nations became apparent. Assigning jobs to individuals was a completely alien idea which all but the most radical visionaries struggled to even process, but a compromise was found in the shape of what came to be known as anrak-trezklin, or “surrogate” trezklin. Those are typically groups of skirol who join together in order to receive a temporary position, and only remain thus until the term of the job has expired. Although those anrak-trezklin can occasionally develop into actual families, in most cases the relationships holding them together are purely businesslike, with each member still considered part of their trezklin of origin and expecting to return there. A gradual shift has made this model of employment the dominant one on the modern market, though, depending on the place and field, old dynastic trezklin occupations are still common enough, and the progressive integration of Acolytes has made individual work a more widely accepted, if still curious reality.
Despite the enduring rigidity of its structures and the perpetual control of communications by Conflux authorities to ensure the truth about the harvest worlds is not leaked out, skirol society is surprisingly liberal. With no clear division of class beyond disparity of income, the goods and privileges available to any citizen depend exclusively on their wealth, and extreme poverty is, if not completely nonexistent, becoming increasingly rare. Basic commodities are generally affordable to any social stratum, not in the least because, though the skirol enjoy luxury, they can easily subsist on very few minimal necessities, albeit how comfortable that subsistence is can be debated. Nevertheless, a permissive social order and a widespread striving for profit contribute to a rather competitive environment, which results in further entrenchment and insularity of the trezklin - the reason why solitary lifestyles are still discouraged at a distance of centuries.
The position of Acolytes in all this is an ambiguous one. Nominally accepted, they are neither skirol, nor do they have an innate drive to form trezklin. Because of the integrational difficulties caused by this, Acolytes have long remained on the fringes of Conflux society, trying to build their own cultures and communities with varying degrees of success and interacting with the wider macrocosm of the Innumerate Suns in the capacity of mercenaries and hirelings most of the time. Theniax has always been a notable exception, showing itself more willing to accommodate the needs of its recruits by creating professional niches available for individuals. Besides easing the access of Acolytes into society, this has had the added effect of lessening the stigma around solitary living, as this has become a viable choice for skirol as well. Due to this, most of the Conflux’s members have long been reluctant to follow Theniax’s example, though more and more concessions are being made in this direction in recent times given the beneficial results of this policy.
In a society that is, at its core, market-driven, the importance of religion has long been on the decline. Nevertheless, the inherently conservative nature of the trezklin has so far considerably slowed the withdrawal of spirituality from the Conflux, in a personal if not a political way. Among the many ancestral devotions and latter-day cults of the skirol, a majority of which tend to adopt some form of skewed animism, the most popular remains the worship of the Wurm Raslir, which is likewise overwhelmingly dominant among the Acolytes. According to its doctrine, the Wurm, commonly interpreted to be symbolic of the skirol species, is a vast metaphysical entity that parasitises the cosmos itself, taking what it needs and giving nothing in return but the wisdom of its example. If one considers the immense historical impact of its teachings after it was brought to relevance, it is really little wonder that the Conflux should have become what it is today.
Until the Detente, the Conflux’s policy of isolationistic aggression caused its economy to develop in a self-contained form, with the only, albeit not insignificant, influx from outside coming in the guise of abduction victims. Consequently, while a lack of external stimulation might have prevented it from growing to its fullest potential, the proportionally greater importance placed on self-sufficiency contributed to the formation of a powerful and diverse production base and an active internal market. Where this impetus would have proven insufficient for a lesser nation, the Innumerate Suns’ colossal reserves of territory and xeno-power, as well as the skirol’s physiological needs allowing for problems in sectors like agriculture to be solved in uniquely economical ways, proved a sturdy foundation for an industry of titanic power. An adequate example of this strength needs be sought no further than its performance during the Great War, where the Conflux’s fleets, despite their defeat by the Ashtar and subpar performance in prolonged combat, blazed through most of the conflict almost exclusively through force of numbers. While the industrial complex has not yet fully recovered from that strain, its reconstruction has thus far been steady, partially owing to the market reforms.
Arguably the most important of the latter has been the decision to make the Conflux’s economic scene more accessible for outside trade. Although its stringent information control regulations prevent it from entertaining foreign presences outside the Silent Maw and a few other approved trade hubs, its own merchants are seen abroad much more often, and remote transactions, however laconic, are gaining in popularity. Most notably, the Conflux has spent the best part of the decades of peace making a name for itself on the international slave and bio-construct markets, whether legal or less so - a distinction it finds wholly irrelevant, beyond how it might negatively impact its public image. Beyond having grown to a major actor in these fields, the Innumerate Suns have adopted a more open stance vis-a-vis the exchange of heavy industry products, importing machinery and ship components from relatively cheap corporate sources and selling their own. Traces of the skirol’s notorious insularity remain as entertainment and consumer goods are concerned, however, with most foreign produce being considered confusing and uninteresting for the former, and simply incompatible or superfluous for the latter.
Despite the sprawling size of their territories, or perhaps because of it, the skirol have steadfastly maintained their tradition of not centralising their government into a single organism, instead preserving their political status as several quasi-independent polities. The emergence of the Conflux and particularly its growing importance during the Great War and afterwards might be early signs that, despite all odds, such a centralisation could after all be possible and even necessary at length, but, in the current conditions, it will likely be decades at the least before this ambiguity finds a resolution in either direction.
In terms of geopolitics, the Innumerate Suns are divided into five main blocs of unequal size and influence. The most powerful, monolithic and recognisable by far are the Lisrak Covenant and the Accord of Theniax, nations that have endured since the earliest space-faring days of the species and either never stopped growing or capitalised on individual events of major importance. Despite the occasional (and not very firm) resurfacing of the sentiment that all members of the Conflux are at least nominally equal, it is no secret to anyone that Lisrak and Theniax hold the greatest sway in all matters of common concern, and indeed dictate the course of events outright more often than not. The only meaningful opposition they could encounter, barring an unprecedented coalition of the other three parties, is each other; however, while their ideological disagreements, large or small, are myriad and often incomprehensible to outsiders, their lines for questions of international importance are most of the time compatible enough for overt clashes to be rare.
The third and fourth factions, while a far cry from the two giants in prominence, likewise share a major structurally defining trait, though instead of unity theirs is diversity. The Halypt Conglomerate is a rather tight-knit ensemble of venerable skirol governments native to Vesereth, who, however, never were as successful as their more famous compatriots, and lobbies representing the interests of major corporate bodies, who saw a safer path in entering a formal agreement with state partners, at the risk of incurring charges of commercial favouritism, rather than trying to challenge the two titans on their own. As a result, the Conglomerate’s sizable market presence is disproportionate to its actual political influence, which, while respectable, is still comparatively meager. Some speculate that it could plausibly rival the Conflux’s superpowers were it not for the many conflicts of interest that regularly arise to plague it, condemning it to remain largely fractured and lacking much of a unified ideological direction.
On the other hand, a more harmonious state of internal affairs is in itself not a guarantee for success, as demonstrated by the Conglomerate’s rough counterpart. The Pale Coil, as it is known, is a loose association of younger colonial nations, formally assembled to defend their concerns on the wider stage of the Conflux. Though not comparable to the Conglomerate in terms of wealth, controlling a scant few harvest worlds overall, the Pale Coil is far stronger in terms of individual voices, and, collectively, its heavy industry is a close contender for the second place after Lisrak among the Innumerate Suns. However, any advantages these factors might grant are hamstrung by a very limited engagement in international politics; between its disjointed nature and sparse development in most fields, members of the Coil largely prefer to focus on inward growth, and only really undertake any sort of unified action when they believe their interests to be threatened.
Even more disorganised and invisible than the Coil, to the point of being often disregarded altogether, is the final pillar of the Conflux’s superstructure. The various minor Acolyte societies that exist outside established skirol nations are as a rule too small, scattered and politically inactive to have any true standing. The very archetypal idea of the small Acolyte commune living at the edges of civilisation is steadily becoming a vestige of past times, as more of these groups become integrated into wider bodies. As such, the very existence of a “fifth power” in the Conflux is only recognised in a purely formal capacity, and it is widely expected that even this aspect will disappear before the turn of the century.
Despite their impressive number, the practices of internal governance of those powers are relatively easily described. Skirol governments have a curious tendency towards a sort of convergent development; any society beyond a certain size will be virtually guaranteed to coalesce into certain broad structural patterns. The underlying form of any regime almost invariably tends towards taking the shape of a plutocratic oligarchy, with wealth and income being the main indicators of a trezklin’s chances for upward social movement and the influence it wields in local society. In an environment of stable employment and regularised wages, this system would quickly create a vicious circle of stagnation. However, in the overwhelming majority of skirol economies income is under minimal regulation and tied to a variety of factors, a good number of which are usually outside the control of the employed trezklin’s superiors (for instance, market fluctuations, authorised secondary sources etc.). These factors contribute to the rather paradoxical conditions in which a sluggish institution like the trezklin exists in a social environment with the potential for constant flux, though the immediate effects of this are most of the time less dramatic than this description might suggest.
At the upper echelons of any nation, however, these regularities break down. While in theory there would be nothing stopping a single vastly influential trezklin from instaurating itself as an absolute power at the top of the social pyramid, history has shown more than once that such drastic actions provoke equally drastic reactions, and a family that gathers too much power for itself will be the target of heavy reprisals from rivals, occasionally culminating in outright civil conflict. Thus, the usual solution to such power struggles is the creation of a governing body from anrak-trezklin made up of delegates from the most outstanding lineages. Should any of the latter be supplanted, their members in the government are likewise replaced by their successors, a process that has been bureaucratically refined over the ages to be far less grey and vague than it might sound. At the rarefied tips of the hierarchy, success is impiteously and inflexibly measured in hard quotas. The specific rules and conformations of these coalitions vary between nations, including how the branches of authority are divvied up, but a generally observed basic law is that no participant trezklin may hold an overwhelming majority presence in any organ, no matter the circumstances. If this law should be broken, the other formant families unfailingly take it upon themselves to restore balance, often by drastic means.
Of course, none of the aforementioned structures and factions would be as notable as it is without the intervention of one factor. The Conflux is at one time a coordinating mind, a restraining web and the arena on which they vie for superiority. Originally founded as a focus for projecting an irreproachable image of the skirol to foreign powers via information control, the growing evidence of the impossibility of such a task in the age of mass multimedia information (for a long time now, it has been relying chiefly on the good sense of its citizens to keep quiet and the threat of public denouncement), combined with the increasing number of challenges that had to be faced jointly by the skirol nations, caused it to develop beyond its intended purpose. Nowadays, the Conflux is effectively a supra-national organism with sweeping, rather vaguely-defined authority; its true limits and capabilities are a subject approached as cautiously as a hornet nest, and usually not at all. Its composition is likewise baffling, as while it was once formed exclusively by delegate anrak-trezklin, age has contributed to the birth of more than a few true trezklin among its halls and corridors, firmly tied together in ways confusing for the authorities of the member states. Beneath its crust of assorted paperwork, it functions as a nexus of diplomacy both internal and foreign, in which it crudely resembles a simplistic parliament with all associated structures, and the head of joint military efforts when necessary. If nothing else, the skirol are mostly capable of coming to a mutual understanding in these basic expressions of war and peace.
That said, every system has its deviants, and the Conflux is no exception. Rogue factions are nothing new, with many criminal groups having come and gone since the earliest days of the exploitation of harvest worlds, but the damage caused by the Ashtar and then the Great War has exasperated the existing currents of extremist thought. The number of militant groups owing no allegiance to the Conflux, now resting on mostly ideological bases, has increased, and two in particular have swollen to dangerous size. It is suspected that they can rival established nations, partly thanks to rumoured connections to major official entities. The Omniphage in particular are often associated with the church of the Wurm, despite not conforming to commonly accepted doctrines. This sect believes that it is the divine right of the skirol to not merely prey on other sentients, but hunt and devour them to extinction, that they might be the only masters of the galaxy, and the fanatism of its members is well-supported by strangely abundant reserves of weaponry. Less spiritual, and arguably more dangerous, the Genome Harvesters are usually believed to have ties with the military-industrial complex, and the advanced technology they have proven to possess gives this theory some ground to stand on. Their organisation and goals are more obscure, but speculation has it that they seek the collective genetic records of all species for some nefarious purpose - and that they might really have a hand in the officially renegade expedition to Agdemnar to further their schemes.
The Conflux’s technological development is on par with that of most galactic powers, if occasionally taking different detours to reach similar results. While the diversity of the skirol nations and minimal to no regulation have prevented any overall standard from forming, some principles are universally in use throughout the Innumerate Suns, either harkening back to an age of more densely concentrated populations or having spread by virtue of their sheer superiority over any alternative.
Traction-Core Generator: Conceived in its earliest forms in the early days of space travel, the vacuum-core principle has been a fundamental of Conflux energy production for centuries, supplanting even nuclear sources as the more widespread system of choice. Its main application consists in the generators, large apparati from which obstruents are removed in order to create a partial vacuum. At the center of these structures, usually shaped like cylindrical vats, although spherical variants exist, there is placed a compressed cluster of superheavy matter, typically of the heftier metals, which is then made to spin and generate centripetal traction. The latter is collected by a system of pistons in the form of kinetic energy, which is then converted, through secondary additions to the generators, into the required forms. While the production of traction-core generators is significant, they are physically large and bulky, and were thus traditionally only used in industrial complexes, urban energy plants and aboard large ships. However, recent breakthroughs in miniaturisation have finally made the production of reliable smaller models possible, to the point that even small ships and some atmospheric vehicles can be outfitted with them.
Vacuum Shields: One of the main disadvantages of traction-core generators is that, due to the relative complexity of the intermediary systems, regulating their output is a difficult matter, especially in the cramped confines of a spaceship. As such, typical default production settings tend to be rather high in the event that a sudden performance spike might be needed at an unexpected moment. Naturally, this leaves a sizeable excess margin in normal conditions, a circumstance that has heavily influenced the design philosophies of skirol shipbuilders and is most clearly reflected in the energy shielding systems mounted on their vessels. Rather than projecting a static field, vacuum shields, so named after the source, channel the power fuelling them into a constant outward flux, dissipating and renewing their outward layers many times a second to provide a stable vent for the excess output they receive. Redundant systems ensure that the transitions do not leave the perimeter exposed. Due to their functioning, vacuum shields provide a very effective defense against protracted pressure at relatively low intensity, such as from directed energy weapons; conversely, they are more vulnerable to high-density impacts like those of projectile armaments. The use of vacuum shields is likewise the main reason why Conflux ships only mount energy weapons for short-range point defense purposes.
Vortex Cannons: While the vacuum-core principle is certainly not central to all aspects of skirol naval technology, elements of it have been incorporated far and wide in the field. Ship-mounted weapons are no exception, and vortex armaments have for centuries been the mainstay of spaceborne combat. These devices are effectively railguns that use a non-linear motor, having a propulsion system shaped as a magnetic coil with a central repulsor element. Vortex cannons employ centrifuge force as an additional accelerating factor, increasing shot velocity at the expense of some projectile mass. As such, a vortex cannon will be larger and more ponderous than a conventional mass driver using slugs of a comparable size, but perceptibly more powerful.
Vacuum Warheads: Sometimes, the road from vacuum-core to weapon is not as indirect. Vacuum warheads are little more than missiles mounted with a device similar to a traction-core generator, though significantly less stable and with fewer functional additions. On impact, the device’s outer shell is ruptured, briefly exposing its surroundings to its powerful inward traction before it collapses. The result is an implosion strong enough to deform and tear open starship hulls and armour, exposing the target to the diffusion of any secondary payloads the warhead might carry.
Slipspace Pulse Disruptors: The skirol’s raiding habits in pre-Great War times and the following need to cover up their operations spurred them to innovate in the field of stealth and infiltration. All their achievements with radar evasion and sensor attacks, though, rest on the necessary foundation of the pulse disruptor. Attached to the slipspace drives used on Conflux ships, these machines create a disturbance effect upon exiting FTL. This alters the surge that is the first perceptible effect of the ship entering realspace, and that has throughout history been the bane of stealth designs due to the ostensible impossibility of masking it. Although disruptors cannot hide this pulse, they are capable of curtailing it, funneling the burst into spare capacitors, and scrambling its signature. The result is that any sensors will detect the surge as being produced by a variable number of light ships exiting FTL, none of them intense enough to be equipped for combat. Due to the demands on power and space, disruptors are only used on ships designed for stealth, but a number of them mixed into a battlefleet could throw an opponent’s preliminary calculations severely off-course.
Organomechanical Integration: A staple of Conflux manufacture great and small, the melding of machinery to engineered organic components, usually through surgical synapse attachment, is found at all levels in daily life and beyond. From basic personal devices to vehicles, body augmentics and, more recently, starships, if something is produced in skirol space, chances are it will have a fleshy pulsating mass on the underside. This offers obvious benefits in decreasing production and replacement costs and time, as grown components are faster and cheaper to procure than assembled ones, as well as greater ease in interfacing and comfort in handling (if one has the right physiology). On the downside, integrated devices require more intensive upkeep and, insidiously, are easily prey to planned obsolescence, creating a very profitable market for living spare parts.
Prior to the manifestation of the Ashtar, the Conflux, despite already presenting itself as a singular entity, did not have a unified military. Every separate nation relied on its own armed forces for peacekeeping, raiding and conquest, with the divergences in resources and technology spreading the overall picture too wide for any clear standard to be applicable. The occupation and subsequent string of defeats confronted the skirol with the necessity of being able to present a compact front in more than theory. While new military actions were impossible and rearmament was difficult, there was nothing preventing them from restructuring their navy at a formal level as long as no true conflict came from it, and so they did.
The result was a federated force under the command of the Conflux’s Commission for Enduring Harmony, itself partially comprised of representatives of the contributing powers, with every component retaining a large degree of autonomy outside of times of total war. To promote standardisation across the fleets, the practices of circulating blueprints and schematics of crucial systems and collecting common war effort funds were instituted, enduring until the present day. The destruction brought by the Great War and the rebuilding that followed were, among all else, opportunities to further streamline the previous diversity of organisations and approaches, and the most was made of them where possible. Nowadays, while the skirol militaries remain quite clearly varied in their appearances and tactics, they tend to use the same ranges of designs with relatively minor modifications. The eternal exception to this are independent Acolytes, who, being prevalently mercenaries, remain a motley and colourful crew.
The Conflux’s fleet is the branch of its military that is attributed the most importance, and the one that has seen the most radical overhauls over its history. Having started out as disparate forces used mainly for raiding and suppression of inferior enemies, the early unified navy sought to capitalise on the design features common among its ships - speed, stealth and offensive capabilities dramatically outpacing their defensive ones. These vessels relied on quickly bridging the gap between them and their opponents, bringing the fight to dangerously close ranges where their weaponry would have room to shine. The tragic results of this approach are reflected in the staggering death tolls of the Great War, where skirol fleets were decimated time and again by more resilient enemies.
The need for greater staying power was keenly felt in post-War times, but the terms of the Detente prevented overt experimentation with warship designs. A solution was found in the once-discarded notion of applying organomechanical integration of machinery at the level of starships. Previously disregarded due to their difficult and laborious implementation funneling resources away from more reliable traditional fully-mechanical models, hybrid craft were devised and put into production with a view to circumventing treaty limitations, especially playing on the parameters on tonnage and armour. The result were prototype lines with less skewed armaments than before, but whose main goal was crippled by the very subterfuge that brought them into being. Organic components, being less dense, were indeed lighter, but also less robust, and the problem of defense lagging behind offense again presented itself.
In the last years, the crumbling importance of the treaty, along with far greater experience in shipwide integration, have finally let Conflux engineers reach something like the fabled balance they were seeking. Melding organic and metallic parts in a much smoother way, last-generation vessels boast defenses unparalleled before in skirol history, along with improved weaponry. As such, when they take the field (which is not often, given how rare they are as yet) they are found spearheading assault formations, followed by the malformed droves spawned by the Detente period. In an ironic reversal of roles, the older ships now form the rearguard, saturating enemy defenses with massed fire to cover the advance of their new, improved counterparts.
Dreadnoughts:
Insatiable: Coming into service in the later stages of the Great War, the Insatiable-class dreadnoughts were an early attempt to correct the deficiencies of Conflux shipbuilding. These imposing vessels are thickly armoured and shielded on several layers, while retaining a heavy array of weaponry. Of course, this aged equipment is far less impressive nowadays.
Sun Devourer: One of the crowning achievements of Conflux industry and development, Sun Devourers concentrate decades of work on shipwide organomechanical integration and improvement into leviathans of plasmid-flesh and metal as deadly as they are immense. These flagrant defiances of the Treaty are as yet few, their existence one more among the skirol’s secrets, and it is not soon that they will fully enter mass production.
Battleships:
Reaper: Once the iron fist of the skirol raiding fleets, Reaper battleships were fine-tuned for the role, being prepared to deal with sparse local defenses through speed and overwhelming firepower. Due to their flagship role, their defenses were nonetheless not fully neglected, and they thus fared comparatively better than smaller lines in the Great War. Compared to modern craft, their once-fabled agility is nothing to write home about, but a lot of guns on a pair of strong thrusters remains a lot of guns on a pair of strong thrusters.
Flayer: Among Detente-era experiments with integration on warships, Flayers are unique in that, instead of having a few components replaced with organic parts, they were mostly built from living tissue instead, an artifice partially motivated by the more stringent limitations on battleship designs. As a result, along with being a clear improvement over the Reapers in terms of speed and armaments, they sport some unique advantages like biochemically-assisted engines, a spontaneously regenerating hull, and amazingly cheap and fast construction. However, this comes at the price of wonky machine systems requiring special instruments and spare parts to work with and rather poor armour under their shields.
World Gorger: Striking a much better balance between organic and mechanical, World Gorgers coopt the strengths of the Flayer design while correcting its weaknesses. Destructive, streamlined and far more resilient, they neatly outclass any of their predecessors in any field. The only obvious disadvantage is that they are proportionally more expensive and slower to produce, which is only further hampered by the secrecy surrounding them.
Battlecruisers:
Invader: Invader-class battlecruisers were rarely part of a raiding force themselves, but nonetheless played a crucial role in those operations. Forerunners of the reaping fleet proper, they were tasked with disrupting the first lines of defense around their targets. Their aptitude for rapid, precise strikes did not suit them well in intense combat, and they took the brunt of the losses of the Great War. Nowadays, they survive mostly in an auxiliary facility, or bought and retrofitted by mercenaries and corporations.
Pestilent: A more typical Detente hybrid design, Pestilents were built around a mostly metallic corpus, with a few organic components mostly inserted only to lighten the tonnage. Sturdier for their class than Flayers, but less mobile and more lightly armed, they were designed to accompany the battleships as support units, providing defensive screening and limited artillery fire support, and, if not else, fulfil that role adequately.
Void Plague: Virtually a direct affront to the Treaty, all, of course, in the name of a balanced peace, the new Void Plague ships are towering juggernauts, packing tremendous firepower and encased in layers over layers of shields and armour. While slower than World Gorgers and still mostly excelling at close ranges, they are nevertheless capable of great offensive flexibility, bombarding the enemy with missiles from long distances even as they inexorably close in to deliver the coup de grace.
Cruisers:
Harvester: The traditional raiding ship by excellency, Harvester stealth cruisers were built to mop up the final layers of resistance during an assault and loading as many captives as they could fit before bombarding their incriminatingly empty cities into dust. This specialisation left them fairly useless from the Ashtar wars onwards, though in present times they have been upgraded and retrofitted in several ways, with variants serving as either tactical stealth ships or dedicated siege vessels.
Flesh Grinder: Supplying to the need for a mainstay combat ship of the line, the Flesh Grinder is a fairly recent hybrid design that has nonetheless surpassed the Harvester as most widely produced cruiser. Respectably armed and armoured for a Detente ship, it does not excel in any single aspect, but is extremely flexible in fleet configurations, and guaranteed to give the enemy a hard time in any circumstance.
Destroyers:
Veinsplitter: Once one of the first prototype hybrid ships, the Veinsplitter has gone through several iterations during the Detente period, over which it has phased out previous destroyer models. Today, it has firmly grown into the niche of strikecraft-killer, though it easily doubles as a predator of corvettes and other smaller vessels. If needs be, it can be mounted with anti-missile weaponry, albeit even then it is rather less effective in that role than dedicated models like the Pestilent.
Corvettes:
Stingworm: The adage of strength in numbers, or, more cynically, quantity having its own quality has always held for the Conflux navy, and Stingworms are the latest example of that mindset on display. Fast and cheap to produce thanks to their hybrid structure, despite making slightly fewer sacrifices in durability than earlier Detente models, these small but hard-hitting craft swarm over battles in vast numbers, seeking out vulnerable spots while the enemy is focused on the fleet’s heavyweights. Modular armaments allow them to carry heavy warheads suitable for attacking battleships as easily as vortex guns to outmatch other corvettes in a straight confrontation.
Strike craft:
Mutilator: Due to the structure and activity of the old Conflux fleet, strikecraft were never given much importance, and this shows in the scarcity of designs. While minor variants certainly existed, the Mutilator was the only major type in use, combining the functions of fighter and bomber in a general-purpose support vessel. Nowadays, they are often found in the possession of mercenaries, who modify them according to their needs on an individual basis.
Ripper: Times change, but design philosophies do not always follow them. In the intervening decades the Conflux navy has still not found much of a role for strikecraft, and the aging Mutilator has been joined by the equally multipurpose hybrid Ripper. The main difference, besides general performance improvements, is a more easily switchable modular component, allowing for easier case-by-case specialisation, but otherwise not much has changed.
Given the Conflux’s most recent pre-War history of groundside military activity, one might think that their planetary forces would be similar to the spaceborne ones - light, mobile and fast on their feet. However, this would be entirely wrong. Long before raids became an established practice, the main task of the skirol military was to occupy harvest worlds - primitive and subjugated, but entire planets nonetheless. As such, their armies were built to be enduring, imposing and extremely difficult to dislodge from their positions, a tradition which they continue to follow to this day. Most of the light-footed work is done at the stages of deployment and scouting; after that, one ponderous steel wall follows another.
The backbone of Conflux planetary forces is formed by armour and mechanised infantry. While the skirol can be deadly in close quarters thanks to their bulk and powerful mandibles, they are naturally slow to the point of being barely mobile. Modern diets have aggravated this by making fattening doses more accessible, and even civilians mostly rely on personal vehicles to move about; the military merely takes this to its logical conclusion. All skirol machines are organomechanical hybrids, which eases interfacing on the pilots’ part and allows for adaptive functions like atmospheric filtration.
The biomechanical skirol armies are never encountered without a following of Acolyte auxiliaries. Usually mercenaries or otherwise irregulars, they are a diverse crowd, outfitted with custom weaponry and augmentics to turn them into lethally efficient killing machines. Some go as far as sculpting their body into a form specialised for combat at the expense of everyday utility, a practice only encountered among those most dedicated to the military life and some religious groups.
Titanic and armed to the teeth, the Embrace of Srynokk is the apex of Conflux fleet construction. An immense project already secretly started in the last years of the Detente, during which its separate components were built at different ends of the Innumerable Suns, the monstrous hybrid ship has recently been assembled into a functioning whole, and its performance has fully lived up to expectations. Despite its proportions, its functional design is rather straightforward, being built to accommodate a staggering number of synchronically working weapons. The only really peculiar part of its equipment are its potent shielding systems, built on layer upon layer of redundant fields; so powerful are they that at extremely close ranges they can become a weapon in their own right, crushing smaller vessels on impact. Furthermore, their radius can easily become a refuge for a small support fleet.
On a sidenote, the ship was originally planned to bear the name Embrace of the Wurm. However, after some resistance from secularist members of the Commission the designation was changed to its current, more neutral one, named after Vesereth’s star.
Harmonic Conflux of the Innumerate Suns
the Conflux, the Innumerate Suns, skirol, “maggots”
General Information
Major Belligerent
Overview
The Conflux is ostensibly a liberal and prosperous, if somewhat bellicose and reclusive union of culturally young species growing and developing under the benevolent oversight of the powerful skirol. What the galaxy knows about it and its true nature are, however, entirely different things. Behind its bright and vibrant facade of disinformation, the Conflux is a predatory hegemony where the skirol rule over hordes of mutated grunts and prisoners of monstrous abattoir worlds, and barter with the flesh of sapients degraded to cattle.
History
The history of the Conflux is, belying the truth about its structure, mostly that of the skirol. Once one of many parasitic species plaguing the megafauna of their homeworld, they outcompeted their evolutionary rivals not through symbiosis with their hosts, as many others had tried, but by growing increasingly malignant, large and ferocious. By the time they crawled their way to sentience, they had become the apex of the food chain; and, by the time their disparate civilisations had mastered space travel, the once fertile planet had been mostly scoured of life, not so much by rampant exploitation as by the unfortunately specialised alimentary needs of its inhabitants. Curiously, the skirol never formed a unified planetary government. A generally accepted explanation is that the need for one was obviated by the rarity of armed conflicts and international regulations being disfavoured relatively to case-by-case diplomatic agreements, though many historians believe this to be an oversimplification.
The foundations of the Conflux proper were only laid when the skirol discovered that they were not alone in the galaxy. A prospecting interstellar expedition by the Accord of Theniax, then a relatively minor nation, encountered a pre-spacefaring species in a newly discovered system. The skirol had a difficult time coming to grips with the idea that anything else could be intelligent in the same way as them, something many are still not fully convinced of to this day. It did not help matters that most of the Accord subscribed to the aggressive faith of the Wurm Raslir, whose cosmology left little room for friendly contact. Though inferior in numbers to an entire planet’s people, Theniax had vastly superior technology and the advantage of orbital control. The newly met species, its original name stricken and forgotten, was pillaged, enslaved and processed to be fit for consumption by the skirol. Willing collaborators were “rewarded” by being subjected to experimental augmentation procedures and, if they survived, accepted by a society that thought little of their betrayal. Almost overnight, the Accord became a major player on the market and political scene, which contributed to the spread of the religion of the Wurm until it surpassed many of the previously dominant confessions.
The Reaping of Irret-Thenn, as it became known, gave an explosive new motivation for interstellar colonisation and set a precedent for future contact. The skirol had discovered a taste for intelligent meat, and wherever they happened over the miracle of life, which they were lucky enough to do a few times more in the following centuries, their sleek, spiny ships descended like a hungry swarm, subjugating, harvesting, and uplifting defectors to bolster their forces.
Although their intentions never changed, and indeed have not to this day, the skirol’s first clashes with other spacefaring powers made them rethink their strategy. Faced with prey they could not overwhelm through brute force and fearing that they would face war on all fronts if their practices came to light, their governments, in an unprecedented display of joint effort, assembled to build an enormous masquerade that spanned the entirety of skirol-held space. The Harmonious Conflux of the Hundred Suns, as it was known at the time, was formed as an international organ with sweeping authority to curtail and oversee external communication, projecting an aseptically neutral and rather enigmatic public image. The burgeoning population descended from the various uplifted inductees, now largely mutated and modified beyond recognition, was rebranded as a number of minor protectorates, and the existence of the conquered harvest worlds became a dark secret hidden in the depths of Conflux space.
Nevertheless, the skirol’s hunger for new tastes only grew, and with subterfuge instead of force they had only traded one weapon for another. Where mere expansionism was judged unacceptable, finding more civil pretexts to skirmish with their neighbours, and not only, became a favourite sport. From border disputes over some drifting asteroid to false flags set up by uplift mercenaries, Conflux forces made a habit of sweeping into their targets’ backwater colonial holdings on the flimsiest casus belli, abducting the population and concealing the strange disappearances with massive collateral damage. The conflict was then smothered in protracted negotiations, and usually ended with the offer of token reparations, though this was of little comfort to the captives, en route to becoming the latest flavour on the market. Of course, when the skirol were confident enough of their superiority, formalities were forgone altogether, and small colonies just inexplicably vanished before anyone could tell what hit them. An entire industry sprang up around this sort of raiding, from specialist harvester companies to teams of treaty loophole-seekers, and in time it grew to become one of the main pillars supporting the economy of the Conflux, by then already comprising Innumerate Suns and having spread into a catch-all term for skirol holdings and activities.
Needless to say, the advent of the Ashtar hit it badly. While at first they flatly disregarded the imposition of peace and gleefully carried on with their hit-and-runs, they quickly found that not even their raiding fleets, whose speed and stealth were the pride of skirol engineering, could outrun retribution. Growing furious and desperate as this once hugely profitable niche was choked, threatening their entire market, they struck at the Ashtar directly, sending droves of warships against their response parties, but only succeeded in wearing themselves down.
The worst, however, was yet to come. With as little warning as they did anything, the Ashtar struck at the Conflux’s harvest worlds, bypassing their outermost defensive perimeters altogether. The skirol guards were scattered, their stranglehold over the planets shattered, and centuries of conditioning and forced obedience were undone in a matter of hours, former captives shaking off the constraints of a lifetime. It was a miracle that the skirol's cover held at all, mostly owing to everyone else having better things to keep them busy and what information got out being later dismissed as provocations spread by rebellious subjects. Cornered and heavily wounded where it had never expected a blow, the Conflux gathered the largest warfleet in its history and prepared to attack the Ashtar head-on, regardless of the disparity of forces. Or, at least, it tried. Individual battlegroups were intercepted, gathering points were blockaded, and the final assembled force, mere scraps of its projected magnitude, was faced with the imposing mass of Prevailing Tranquility. Threatened with complete annihilation, the skirol had no choice but to resign themselves to a heavily downsized diet and market, though their resentment grew and festered.
By the time the Ashtar disappeared, the Conflux was starved for fresh meat and on the brink of economic collapse, having been deprived both of its old conquests and the lucrative raids. It is thus little wonder that it was at the forefront when the Great War erupted, looking to make up for lost time by gobbling up as many people as it could, appearances be damned. However, it soon became clear that all its rage had little of a punch behind it; built for rapid and precise tactical operations, its military had never been prepared for sustained conflict. Attrition took its toll, even as its forces were spread thin by the simultaneous effort of retaking the liberated harvest worlds, and when the Madrigasa talks came about the Conflux dragged itself to the table beaten and broken, with few real gains to show for it.
Yet those few scrapings proved vital, giving a brief reprieve for the Innumerate Suns to sustain themselves as they turned their attention inward to sharply reorganise their workings. The Detente saw heavy work on the harvest worlds, which were rebuilt and reshaped into streamlined breeding grounds. In a bold move that many feared would threaten the Conflux’s facade, but was ultimately recognised as necessary, the market was opened to external trade, (supposed) slaves in particular becoming a valued commodity both as imports and exports. Along with offering a much-needed influx of foreign wealth, many saw this as an opportunity to smooth over the skirol’s reputation in at least some corners of the international stage after a litigious and belligerent past.
This period of revolutions had, however, some adverse effects as well. The seeds of radical ideological movements had been sown during the hardships of the past recession, and a changing society brought them to the fore. Rogue underground factions gained alarming power, and their sometimes unsubtle machinations more than once strained both Detente and masquerade to their limits.
Incidentally, those same rogue factions gave the Conflux a convenient excuse when the Message pointed the way to Agdemnar, and officially the skirol force that has dug in on the planet is controlled by any number of extremist groups. Still, the roots of conspiracy have had decades to sink deep into its reconstructed society, and sometimes the brains at high command themselves wonder just how much of that is merely a cover story.
Major Holdings
Vesereth: The homeworld of the skirol, once shared along millennia-old repartitions by their elder nations, has gradually been overtaken by the Conflux’s administration as the organisation’s significance grew, and now serves as the de facto capital of the Innumerate Suns. While most of the old polities maintain a token presence in culturally and historically important places, most of the planet is considered neutral ground. This makes it a favoured meeting ground for settling diplomatic disputes, as well as being the neural center of the Conflux’s activities of communications, transit, market and to an extent military oversight. The planet’s heavily urbanised surface is an amalgamation of architectural styles as diverse as many are ancient, with remains of its peculiar megafauna ecosystem surviving only in sparse reservations.
Giaxil: The Lisrak Covenant has, for most of skirol history, been the largest and most powerful sovereign state to stretch its holdings beyond Vesereth, and in some aspects this still holds true. Though temporary outpaced when Theniax struck it rich with the Reaping, the old money of the Conflux more than recouped its losses with the rise of the raiding industry, and for a long time dominated the niche with its unequaled military might. The post-bellum need for remodernisation only served to cement its position as the strongest pillar of Conflux’s military-industrial complex. The seat of the Lisrak government embodies this role, being a bustling hive of factories, laboratories, military compouds and marketplaces of all calibers. Life on Giaxil is busy to the point of being frantic, but also famously well-paid.
Ur’Theniax: In many ways the polar opposite of Lisrak, the Accord of Theniax never shifted its attention away from its resounding success in the Reaping, instead choosing to capitalise on the practice of world harvesting and its various products. Besides swelling to obscene wealth through careful exploitation of the flesh trade, biotechnological research sponsored by it made leaps and bounds thanks to the abundance of high-quality subjects that were ethically and legally free game, its society was always the most progressive in its acceptance of uplifted Acolytes, and its patronage of the church of the Wurm let it reap the rewards of its cultural primacy. In contrast with Giaxil, its capital of Ur’Theniax is a clean, quiet and photogenic paradise, decorated with ample stretches of unspoiled nature. It is ideal estate for research facilities, elite trading hubs (usually dealing more with stocks than the actual deal), religious centers and luxury estates for wealthy skirol or successful Acolytes.
The Silent Maw: Located at the fringes of Conflux space and the one of the few places in it freely accessible to outsiders, the Silent Maw is one of the most concrete signs of the social restructuring that has pervaded the Innumerate Suns. This vast, well-fortified habitat station, strategically placed at a convergence of several local transit routes, is the greatest slave trading hub in skirol territory, and certainly one of, if not the largest in the galaxy altogether. While maintained by the Conflux itself, the nature of the business that takes place on it such that some concessions need to be made for more legally dubious clientele, and thus, despite standard surveillance and the application of tax rates, transactions can easily be held in complete anonymity.
Kardatt: During the Detente-era industry reforms, the reconquered harvest worlds, the Conflux’s closest-held secret, underwent radical renovations to become the backbone of the now once more insular flesh trade. Kardatt, one of the last inhabited planets to be conquered in the first period of skirol expansion, and thus comparatively less ruinated by rampant exploitation, was the prototype of the chillingly efficient new model, and remains a symbol of the undertaking’s success. Heavily defended and camouflaged, the planet is a hell of assembly lines, breeding pens, cloning chambers and worse, regularly churning out herds of debased beings to sate the skirol’s hunger.
Demographics
Population
Skirol - 78% officially; 56% effectively
Acolytes - 22% officially; 16% effectively
Others - none officially; 28% effectively
Acolytes - 22% officially; 16% effectively
Others - none officially; 28% effectively
Skirol: A species of malignant parasites who grew to exceed the size, strength and intelligence usually held by such organisms, but never lost their voracity and primitive non-dimorphic, worm-like appearance. Their prehensile branching tongues supply to the needs of fine manipulation, though nowadays most prefer to use mechanical prosthetic aid. In ideal conditions, they can live for a surprisingly long time, exceeding several centuries even unaugmented; however, this is generally only achieved by the wealthiest among them. Strictly carnivorous, skirol, in an atavistic throwback, prefer consuming their prey alive, slowly draining it of fluids and externally digested organs before finishing the desiccated body in a few bites of their bone-breakingly powerful jaws. Psintegrat aptitude among them is unusually rare, though those that do show potential can develop tremendous powers.
Acolytes: A blanket term for beings descended from the minorities of conquered populations that willingly joined the skirol. Generations of bio-augmentic tinkering and simply living among their masters have long made every Acolyte unrecognisable as the species their ancestors had once been, their bodies warped beyond nature and their minds overtaken by an alien culture. Having abandoned every vestige of their old lifestyles out of scorn, desire to integrate into the dominant society, or simple convenience, they mostly reproduce through cloning or artificial parthenogenesis. While they can be divided into a number of mostly stable breeds, every Acolyte is a biologically unique entity, shaped by a free choice of augmentations and distinguishing marks of their occupation.
Others: The ones you won’t find in any census or galactic atlas. Despite forming a sizable percentage of the Conflux’s overall population, the inhabitants of subjugated planets are not recognised as sapient members of it. Bred in gigantic factories that were once their homeworlds, they are treated, sold and devoured like cattle by the skirol, and centuries of debasement have indeed left most of them mentally little better than animals. Those that do reach the public eye do so as exotic slaves from allegedly primitive worlds. In late pre-Ashtar times, this category has been expanded to include the victims of abduction raids, who are likewise subjected to the same treatment.
Society
Traditionally, the structure of skirol society has rested on the notion of the trezklin. This word, loosely translatable as “swarm” (though much of its meaning is lost), denotes a large, but tightly bound family unit living and working in close vicinity. Spanning various levels of more or less extended kinship, trezklin are extremely diverse in size; the smallest might count around a dozen members, while the largest number in the hundreds, and in some cases even the low thousands. Those numbers are, naturally, in constant fluctuation as some leave the family web to join another or found their own nucleus, and others are conversely taken in as they come to join a new mate or several. Single skirol living outside a trezklin are not quite uncommon, and are growing progressively less so in modern times, but are still regarded as eccentrics.
The reason for this is that, now as thousands of years ago, by and large it is the trezklin, and not the individual, that is considered the minimal formant unit of society. Jobs have historically been, rather than positions to be filled by fungible appropriately skilled workers, dynastic traditions upheld by the members of the same trezklin over the generations. The staff of a facility, the crew of a ship, an entire military unit; each of these was, and in many places still is, far more often than not a family in addition to everything else. Young skirol were quite literally born into their roles, and raised accordingly. This did not, however, negate social mobility; those dissatisfied with their position could seek membership of a different trezklin, if they were accepted and proved they possessed the necessary aptitudes, and units judged to be underperforming by those higher in the hierarchy (itself a rather complex notion; more details in the government description) could be downgraded to a lower position and replaced.
While this system has held from the birth of skirol civilisation, ever since the species began to expand into interplanetary space its inflexibility and difficulty in adapting to the needs of spacefaring nations became apparent. Assigning jobs to individuals was a completely alien idea which all but the most radical visionaries struggled to even process, but a compromise was found in the shape of what came to be known as anrak-trezklin, or “surrogate” trezklin. Those are typically groups of skirol who join together in order to receive a temporary position, and only remain thus until the term of the job has expired. Although those anrak-trezklin can occasionally develop into actual families, in most cases the relationships holding them together are purely businesslike, with each member still considered part of their trezklin of origin and expecting to return there. A gradual shift has made this model of employment the dominant one on the modern market, though, depending on the place and field, old dynastic trezklin occupations are still common enough, and the progressive integration of Acolytes has made individual work a more widely accepted, if still curious reality.
Despite the enduring rigidity of its structures and the perpetual control of communications by Conflux authorities to ensure the truth about the harvest worlds is not leaked out, skirol society is surprisingly liberal. With no clear division of class beyond disparity of income, the goods and privileges available to any citizen depend exclusively on their wealth, and extreme poverty is, if not completely nonexistent, becoming increasingly rare. Basic commodities are generally affordable to any social stratum, not in the least because, though the skirol enjoy luxury, they can easily subsist on very few minimal necessities, albeit how comfortable that subsistence is can be debated. Nevertheless, a permissive social order and a widespread striving for profit contribute to a rather competitive environment, which results in further entrenchment and insularity of the trezklin - the reason why solitary lifestyles are still discouraged at a distance of centuries.
The position of Acolytes in all this is an ambiguous one. Nominally accepted, they are neither skirol, nor do they have an innate drive to form trezklin. Because of the integrational difficulties caused by this, Acolytes have long remained on the fringes of Conflux society, trying to build their own cultures and communities with varying degrees of success and interacting with the wider macrocosm of the Innumerate Suns in the capacity of mercenaries and hirelings most of the time. Theniax has always been a notable exception, showing itself more willing to accommodate the needs of its recruits by creating professional niches available for individuals. Besides easing the access of Acolytes into society, this has had the added effect of lessening the stigma around solitary living, as this has become a viable choice for skirol as well. Due to this, most of the Conflux’s members have long been reluctant to follow Theniax’s example, though more and more concessions are being made in this direction in recent times given the beneficial results of this policy.
In a society that is, at its core, market-driven, the importance of religion has long been on the decline. Nevertheless, the inherently conservative nature of the trezklin has so far considerably slowed the withdrawal of spirituality from the Conflux, in a personal if not a political way. Among the many ancestral devotions and latter-day cults of the skirol, a majority of which tend to adopt some form of skewed animism, the most popular remains the worship of the Wurm Raslir, which is likewise overwhelmingly dominant among the Acolytes. According to its doctrine, the Wurm, commonly interpreted to be symbolic of the skirol species, is a vast metaphysical entity that parasitises the cosmos itself, taking what it needs and giving nothing in return but the wisdom of its example. If one considers the immense historical impact of its teachings after it was brought to relevance, it is really little wonder that the Conflux should have become what it is today.
Economy
Until the Detente, the Conflux’s policy of isolationistic aggression caused its economy to develop in a self-contained form, with the only, albeit not insignificant, influx from outside coming in the guise of abduction victims. Consequently, while a lack of external stimulation might have prevented it from growing to its fullest potential, the proportionally greater importance placed on self-sufficiency contributed to the formation of a powerful and diverse production base and an active internal market. Where this impetus would have proven insufficient for a lesser nation, the Innumerate Suns’ colossal reserves of territory and xeno-power, as well as the skirol’s physiological needs allowing for problems in sectors like agriculture to be solved in uniquely economical ways, proved a sturdy foundation for an industry of titanic power. An adequate example of this strength needs be sought no further than its performance during the Great War, where the Conflux’s fleets, despite their defeat by the Ashtar and subpar performance in prolonged combat, blazed through most of the conflict almost exclusively through force of numbers. While the industrial complex has not yet fully recovered from that strain, its reconstruction has thus far been steady, partially owing to the market reforms.
Arguably the most important of the latter has been the decision to make the Conflux’s economic scene more accessible for outside trade. Although its stringent information control regulations prevent it from entertaining foreign presences outside the Silent Maw and a few other approved trade hubs, its own merchants are seen abroad much more often, and remote transactions, however laconic, are gaining in popularity. Most notably, the Conflux has spent the best part of the decades of peace making a name for itself on the international slave and bio-construct markets, whether legal or less so - a distinction it finds wholly irrelevant, beyond how it might negatively impact its public image. Beyond having grown to a major actor in these fields, the Innumerate Suns have adopted a more open stance vis-a-vis the exchange of heavy industry products, importing machinery and ship components from relatively cheap corporate sources and selling their own. Traces of the skirol’s notorious insularity remain as entertainment and consumer goods are concerned, however, with most foreign produce being considered confusing and uninteresting for the former, and simply incompatible or superfluous for the latter.
Government
Despite the sprawling size of their territories, or perhaps because of it, the skirol have steadfastly maintained their tradition of not centralising their government into a single organism, instead preserving their political status as several quasi-independent polities. The emergence of the Conflux and particularly its growing importance during the Great War and afterwards might be early signs that, despite all odds, such a centralisation could after all be possible and even necessary at length, but, in the current conditions, it will likely be decades at the least before this ambiguity finds a resolution in either direction.
In terms of geopolitics, the Innumerate Suns are divided into five main blocs of unequal size and influence. The most powerful, monolithic and recognisable by far are the Lisrak Covenant and the Accord of Theniax, nations that have endured since the earliest space-faring days of the species and either never stopped growing or capitalised on individual events of major importance. Despite the occasional (and not very firm) resurfacing of the sentiment that all members of the Conflux are at least nominally equal, it is no secret to anyone that Lisrak and Theniax hold the greatest sway in all matters of common concern, and indeed dictate the course of events outright more often than not. The only meaningful opposition they could encounter, barring an unprecedented coalition of the other three parties, is each other; however, while their ideological disagreements, large or small, are myriad and often incomprehensible to outsiders, their lines for questions of international importance are most of the time compatible enough for overt clashes to be rare.
The third and fourth factions, while a far cry from the two giants in prominence, likewise share a major structurally defining trait, though instead of unity theirs is diversity. The Halypt Conglomerate is a rather tight-knit ensemble of venerable skirol governments native to Vesereth, who, however, never were as successful as their more famous compatriots, and lobbies representing the interests of major corporate bodies, who saw a safer path in entering a formal agreement with state partners, at the risk of incurring charges of commercial favouritism, rather than trying to challenge the two titans on their own. As a result, the Conglomerate’s sizable market presence is disproportionate to its actual political influence, which, while respectable, is still comparatively meager. Some speculate that it could plausibly rival the Conflux’s superpowers were it not for the many conflicts of interest that regularly arise to plague it, condemning it to remain largely fractured and lacking much of a unified ideological direction.
On the other hand, a more harmonious state of internal affairs is in itself not a guarantee for success, as demonstrated by the Conglomerate’s rough counterpart. The Pale Coil, as it is known, is a loose association of younger colonial nations, formally assembled to defend their concerns on the wider stage of the Conflux. Though not comparable to the Conglomerate in terms of wealth, controlling a scant few harvest worlds overall, the Pale Coil is far stronger in terms of individual voices, and, collectively, its heavy industry is a close contender for the second place after Lisrak among the Innumerate Suns. However, any advantages these factors might grant are hamstrung by a very limited engagement in international politics; between its disjointed nature and sparse development in most fields, members of the Coil largely prefer to focus on inward growth, and only really undertake any sort of unified action when they believe their interests to be threatened.
Even more disorganised and invisible than the Coil, to the point of being often disregarded altogether, is the final pillar of the Conflux’s superstructure. The various minor Acolyte societies that exist outside established skirol nations are as a rule too small, scattered and politically inactive to have any true standing. The very archetypal idea of the small Acolyte commune living at the edges of civilisation is steadily becoming a vestige of past times, as more of these groups become integrated into wider bodies. As such, the very existence of a “fifth power” in the Conflux is only recognised in a purely formal capacity, and it is widely expected that even this aspect will disappear before the turn of the century.
Despite their impressive number, the practices of internal governance of those powers are relatively easily described. Skirol governments have a curious tendency towards a sort of convergent development; any society beyond a certain size will be virtually guaranteed to coalesce into certain broad structural patterns. The underlying form of any regime almost invariably tends towards taking the shape of a plutocratic oligarchy, with wealth and income being the main indicators of a trezklin’s chances for upward social movement and the influence it wields in local society. In an environment of stable employment and regularised wages, this system would quickly create a vicious circle of stagnation. However, in the overwhelming majority of skirol economies income is under minimal regulation and tied to a variety of factors, a good number of which are usually outside the control of the employed trezklin’s superiors (for instance, market fluctuations, authorised secondary sources etc.). These factors contribute to the rather paradoxical conditions in which a sluggish institution like the trezklin exists in a social environment with the potential for constant flux, though the immediate effects of this are most of the time less dramatic than this description might suggest.
At the upper echelons of any nation, however, these regularities break down. While in theory there would be nothing stopping a single vastly influential trezklin from instaurating itself as an absolute power at the top of the social pyramid, history has shown more than once that such drastic actions provoke equally drastic reactions, and a family that gathers too much power for itself will be the target of heavy reprisals from rivals, occasionally culminating in outright civil conflict. Thus, the usual solution to such power struggles is the creation of a governing body from anrak-trezklin made up of delegates from the most outstanding lineages. Should any of the latter be supplanted, their members in the government are likewise replaced by their successors, a process that has been bureaucratically refined over the ages to be far less grey and vague than it might sound. At the rarefied tips of the hierarchy, success is impiteously and inflexibly measured in hard quotas. The specific rules and conformations of these coalitions vary between nations, including how the branches of authority are divvied up, but a generally observed basic law is that no participant trezklin may hold an overwhelming majority presence in any organ, no matter the circumstances. If this law should be broken, the other formant families unfailingly take it upon themselves to restore balance, often by drastic means.
Of course, none of the aforementioned structures and factions would be as notable as it is without the intervention of one factor. The Conflux is at one time a coordinating mind, a restraining web and the arena on which they vie for superiority. Originally founded as a focus for projecting an irreproachable image of the skirol to foreign powers via information control, the growing evidence of the impossibility of such a task in the age of mass multimedia information (for a long time now, it has been relying chiefly on the good sense of its citizens to keep quiet and the threat of public denouncement), combined with the increasing number of challenges that had to be faced jointly by the skirol nations, caused it to develop beyond its intended purpose. Nowadays, the Conflux is effectively a supra-national organism with sweeping, rather vaguely-defined authority; its true limits and capabilities are a subject approached as cautiously as a hornet nest, and usually not at all. Its composition is likewise baffling, as while it was once formed exclusively by delegate anrak-trezklin, age has contributed to the birth of more than a few true trezklin among its halls and corridors, firmly tied together in ways confusing for the authorities of the member states. Beneath its crust of assorted paperwork, it functions as a nexus of diplomacy both internal and foreign, in which it crudely resembles a simplistic parliament with all associated structures, and the head of joint military efforts when necessary. If nothing else, the skirol are mostly capable of coming to a mutual understanding in these basic expressions of war and peace.
That said, every system has its deviants, and the Conflux is no exception. Rogue factions are nothing new, with many criminal groups having come and gone since the earliest days of the exploitation of harvest worlds, but the damage caused by the Ashtar and then the Great War has exasperated the existing currents of extremist thought. The number of militant groups owing no allegiance to the Conflux, now resting on mostly ideological bases, has increased, and two in particular have swollen to dangerous size. It is suspected that they can rival established nations, partly thanks to rumoured connections to major official entities. The Omniphage in particular are often associated with the church of the Wurm, despite not conforming to commonly accepted doctrines. This sect believes that it is the divine right of the skirol to not merely prey on other sentients, but hunt and devour them to extinction, that they might be the only masters of the galaxy, and the fanatism of its members is well-supported by strangely abundant reserves of weaponry. Less spiritual, and arguably more dangerous, the Genome Harvesters are usually believed to have ties with the military-industrial complex, and the advanced technology they have proven to possess gives this theory some ground to stand on. Their organisation and goals are more obscure, but speculation has it that they seek the collective genetic records of all species for some nefarious purpose - and that they might really have a hand in the officially renegade expedition to Agdemnar to further their schemes.
Technological Information
The Conflux’s technological development is on par with that of most galactic powers, if occasionally taking different detours to reach similar results. While the diversity of the skirol nations and minimal to no regulation have prevented any overall standard from forming, some principles are universally in use throughout the Innumerate Suns, either harkening back to an age of more densely concentrated populations or having spread by virtue of their sheer superiority over any alternative.
Major Techs
Traction-Core Generator: Conceived in its earliest forms in the early days of space travel, the vacuum-core principle has been a fundamental of Conflux energy production for centuries, supplanting even nuclear sources as the more widespread system of choice. Its main application consists in the generators, large apparati from which obstruents are removed in order to create a partial vacuum. At the center of these structures, usually shaped like cylindrical vats, although spherical variants exist, there is placed a compressed cluster of superheavy matter, typically of the heftier metals, which is then made to spin and generate centripetal traction. The latter is collected by a system of pistons in the form of kinetic energy, which is then converted, through secondary additions to the generators, into the required forms. While the production of traction-core generators is significant, they are physically large and bulky, and were thus traditionally only used in industrial complexes, urban energy plants and aboard large ships. However, recent breakthroughs in miniaturisation have finally made the production of reliable smaller models possible, to the point that even small ships and some atmospheric vehicles can be outfitted with them.
Vacuum Shields: One of the main disadvantages of traction-core generators is that, due to the relative complexity of the intermediary systems, regulating their output is a difficult matter, especially in the cramped confines of a spaceship. As such, typical default production settings tend to be rather high in the event that a sudden performance spike might be needed at an unexpected moment. Naturally, this leaves a sizeable excess margin in normal conditions, a circumstance that has heavily influenced the design philosophies of skirol shipbuilders and is most clearly reflected in the energy shielding systems mounted on their vessels. Rather than projecting a static field, vacuum shields, so named after the source, channel the power fuelling them into a constant outward flux, dissipating and renewing their outward layers many times a second to provide a stable vent for the excess output they receive. Redundant systems ensure that the transitions do not leave the perimeter exposed. Due to their functioning, vacuum shields provide a very effective defense against protracted pressure at relatively low intensity, such as from directed energy weapons; conversely, they are more vulnerable to high-density impacts like those of projectile armaments. The use of vacuum shields is likewise the main reason why Conflux ships only mount energy weapons for short-range point defense purposes.
Vortex Cannons: While the vacuum-core principle is certainly not central to all aspects of skirol naval technology, elements of it have been incorporated far and wide in the field. Ship-mounted weapons are no exception, and vortex armaments have for centuries been the mainstay of spaceborne combat. These devices are effectively railguns that use a non-linear motor, having a propulsion system shaped as a magnetic coil with a central repulsor element. Vortex cannons employ centrifuge force as an additional accelerating factor, increasing shot velocity at the expense of some projectile mass. As such, a vortex cannon will be larger and more ponderous than a conventional mass driver using slugs of a comparable size, but perceptibly more powerful.
Vacuum Warheads: Sometimes, the road from vacuum-core to weapon is not as indirect. Vacuum warheads are little more than missiles mounted with a device similar to a traction-core generator, though significantly less stable and with fewer functional additions. On impact, the device’s outer shell is ruptured, briefly exposing its surroundings to its powerful inward traction before it collapses. The result is an implosion strong enough to deform and tear open starship hulls and armour, exposing the target to the diffusion of any secondary payloads the warhead might carry.
Slipspace Pulse Disruptors: The skirol’s raiding habits in pre-Great War times and the following need to cover up their operations spurred them to innovate in the field of stealth and infiltration. All their achievements with radar evasion and sensor attacks, though, rest on the necessary foundation of the pulse disruptor. Attached to the slipspace drives used on Conflux ships, these machines create a disturbance effect upon exiting FTL. This alters the surge that is the first perceptible effect of the ship entering realspace, and that has throughout history been the bane of stealth designs due to the ostensible impossibility of masking it. Although disruptors cannot hide this pulse, they are capable of curtailing it, funneling the burst into spare capacitors, and scrambling its signature. The result is that any sensors will detect the surge as being produced by a variable number of light ships exiting FTL, none of them intense enough to be equipped for combat. Due to the demands on power and space, disruptors are only used on ships designed for stealth, but a number of them mixed into a battlefleet could throw an opponent’s preliminary calculations severely off-course.
Organomechanical Integration: A staple of Conflux manufacture great and small, the melding of machinery to engineered organic components, usually through surgical synapse attachment, is found at all levels in daily life and beyond. From basic personal devices to vehicles, body augmentics and, more recently, starships, if something is produced in skirol space, chances are it will have a fleshy pulsating mass on the underside. This offers obvious benefits in decreasing production and replacement costs and time, as grown components are faster and cheaper to procure than assembled ones, as well as greater ease in interfacing and comfort in handling (if one has the right physiology). On the downside, integrated devices require more intensive upkeep and, insidiously, are easily prey to planned obsolescence, creating a very profitable market for living spare parts.
Military Information
Military Overview
Prior to the manifestation of the Ashtar, the Conflux, despite already presenting itself as a singular entity, did not have a unified military. Every separate nation relied on its own armed forces for peacekeeping, raiding and conquest, with the divergences in resources and technology spreading the overall picture too wide for any clear standard to be applicable. The occupation and subsequent string of defeats confronted the skirol with the necessity of being able to present a compact front in more than theory. While new military actions were impossible and rearmament was difficult, there was nothing preventing them from restructuring their navy at a formal level as long as no true conflict came from it, and so they did.
The result was a federated force under the command of the Conflux’s Commission for Enduring Harmony, itself partially comprised of representatives of the contributing powers, with every component retaining a large degree of autonomy outside of times of total war. To promote standardisation across the fleets, the practices of circulating blueprints and schematics of crucial systems and collecting common war effort funds were instituted, enduring until the present day. The destruction brought by the Great War and the rebuilding that followed were, among all else, opportunities to further streamline the previous diversity of organisations and approaches, and the most was made of them where possible. Nowadays, while the skirol militaries remain quite clearly varied in their appearances and tactics, they tend to use the same ranges of designs with relatively minor modifications. The eternal exception to this are independent Acolytes, who, being prevalently mercenaries, remain a motley and colourful crew.
Fleet
The Conflux’s fleet is the branch of its military that is attributed the most importance, and the one that has seen the most radical overhauls over its history. Having started out as disparate forces used mainly for raiding and suppression of inferior enemies, the early unified navy sought to capitalise on the design features common among its ships - speed, stealth and offensive capabilities dramatically outpacing their defensive ones. These vessels relied on quickly bridging the gap between them and their opponents, bringing the fight to dangerously close ranges where their weaponry would have room to shine. The tragic results of this approach are reflected in the staggering death tolls of the Great War, where skirol fleets were decimated time and again by more resilient enemies.
The need for greater staying power was keenly felt in post-War times, but the terms of the Detente prevented overt experimentation with warship designs. A solution was found in the once-discarded notion of applying organomechanical integration of machinery at the level of starships. Previously disregarded due to their difficult and laborious implementation funneling resources away from more reliable traditional fully-mechanical models, hybrid craft were devised and put into production with a view to circumventing treaty limitations, especially playing on the parameters on tonnage and armour. The result were prototype lines with less skewed armaments than before, but whose main goal was crippled by the very subterfuge that brought them into being. Organic components, being less dense, were indeed lighter, but also less robust, and the problem of defense lagging behind offense again presented itself.
In the last years, the crumbling importance of the treaty, along with far greater experience in shipwide integration, have finally let Conflux engineers reach something like the fabled balance they were seeking. Melding organic and metallic parts in a much smoother way, last-generation vessels boast defenses unparalleled before in skirol history, along with improved weaponry. As such, when they take the field (which is not often, given how rare they are as yet) they are found spearheading assault formations, followed by the malformed droves spawned by the Detente period. In an ironic reversal of roles, the older ships now form the rearguard, saturating enemy defenses with massed fire to cover the advance of their new, improved counterparts.
Dreadnoughts:
Insatiable: Coming into service in the later stages of the Great War, the Insatiable-class dreadnoughts were an early attempt to correct the deficiencies of Conflux shipbuilding. These imposing vessels are thickly armoured and shielded on several layers, while retaining a heavy array of weaponry. Of course, this aged equipment is far less impressive nowadays.
Sun Devourer: One of the crowning achievements of Conflux industry and development, Sun Devourers concentrate decades of work on shipwide organomechanical integration and improvement into leviathans of plasmid-flesh and metal as deadly as they are immense. These flagrant defiances of the Treaty are as yet few, their existence one more among the skirol’s secrets, and it is not soon that they will fully enter mass production.
Battleships:
Reaper: Once the iron fist of the skirol raiding fleets, Reaper battleships were fine-tuned for the role, being prepared to deal with sparse local defenses through speed and overwhelming firepower. Due to their flagship role, their defenses were nonetheless not fully neglected, and they thus fared comparatively better than smaller lines in the Great War. Compared to modern craft, their once-fabled agility is nothing to write home about, but a lot of guns on a pair of strong thrusters remains a lot of guns on a pair of strong thrusters.
Flayer: Among Detente-era experiments with integration on warships, Flayers are unique in that, instead of having a few components replaced with organic parts, they were mostly built from living tissue instead, an artifice partially motivated by the more stringent limitations on battleship designs. As a result, along with being a clear improvement over the Reapers in terms of speed and armaments, they sport some unique advantages like biochemically-assisted engines, a spontaneously regenerating hull, and amazingly cheap and fast construction. However, this comes at the price of wonky machine systems requiring special instruments and spare parts to work with and rather poor armour under their shields.
World Gorger: Striking a much better balance between organic and mechanical, World Gorgers coopt the strengths of the Flayer design while correcting its weaknesses. Destructive, streamlined and far more resilient, they neatly outclass any of their predecessors in any field. The only obvious disadvantage is that they are proportionally more expensive and slower to produce, which is only further hampered by the secrecy surrounding them.
Battlecruisers:
Invader: Invader-class battlecruisers were rarely part of a raiding force themselves, but nonetheless played a crucial role in those operations. Forerunners of the reaping fleet proper, they were tasked with disrupting the first lines of defense around their targets. Their aptitude for rapid, precise strikes did not suit them well in intense combat, and they took the brunt of the losses of the Great War. Nowadays, they survive mostly in an auxiliary facility, or bought and retrofitted by mercenaries and corporations.
Pestilent: A more typical Detente hybrid design, Pestilents were built around a mostly metallic corpus, with a few organic components mostly inserted only to lighten the tonnage. Sturdier for their class than Flayers, but less mobile and more lightly armed, they were designed to accompany the battleships as support units, providing defensive screening and limited artillery fire support, and, if not else, fulfil that role adequately.
Void Plague: Virtually a direct affront to the Treaty, all, of course, in the name of a balanced peace, the new Void Plague ships are towering juggernauts, packing tremendous firepower and encased in layers over layers of shields and armour. While slower than World Gorgers and still mostly excelling at close ranges, they are nevertheless capable of great offensive flexibility, bombarding the enemy with missiles from long distances even as they inexorably close in to deliver the coup de grace.
Cruisers:
Harvester: The traditional raiding ship by excellency, Harvester stealth cruisers were built to mop up the final layers of resistance during an assault and loading as many captives as they could fit before bombarding their incriminatingly empty cities into dust. This specialisation left them fairly useless from the Ashtar wars onwards, though in present times they have been upgraded and retrofitted in several ways, with variants serving as either tactical stealth ships or dedicated siege vessels.
Flesh Grinder: Supplying to the need for a mainstay combat ship of the line, the Flesh Grinder is a fairly recent hybrid design that has nonetheless surpassed the Harvester as most widely produced cruiser. Respectably armed and armoured for a Detente ship, it does not excel in any single aspect, but is extremely flexible in fleet configurations, and guaranteed to give the enemy a hard time in any circumstance.
Destroyers:
Veinsplitter: Once one of the first prototype hybrid ships, the Veinsplitter has gone through several iterations during the Detente period, over which it has phased out previous destroyer models. Today, it has firmly grown into the niche of strikecraft-killer, though it easily doubles as a predator of corvettes and other smaller vessels. If needs be, it can be mounted with anti-missile weaponry, albeit even then it is rather less effective in that role than dedicated models like the Pestilent.
Corvettes:
Stingworm: The adage of strength in numbers, or, more cynically, quantity having its own quality has always held for the Conflux navy, and Stingworms are the latest example of that mindset on display. Fast and cheap to produce thanks to their hybrid structure, despite making slightly fewer sacrifices in durability than earlier Detente models, these small but hard-hitting craft swarm over battles in vast numbers, seeking out vulnerable spots while the enemy is focused on the fleet’s heavyweights. Modular armaments allow them to carry heavy warheads suitable for attacking battleships as easily as vortex guns to outmatch other corvettes in a straight confrontation.
Strike craft:
Mutilator: Due to the structure and activity of the old Conflux fleet, strikecraft were never given much importance, and this shows in the scarcity of designs. While minor variants certainly existed, the Mutilator was the only major type in use, combining the functions of fighter and bomber in a general-purpose support vessel. Nowadays, they are often found in the possession of mercenaries, who modify them according to their needs on an individual basis.
Ripper: Times change, but design philosophies do not always follow them. In the intervening decades the Conflux navy has still not found much of a role for strikecraft, and the aging Mutilator has been joined by the equally multipurpose hybrid Ripper. The main difference, besides general performance improvements, is a more easily switchable modular component, allowing for easier case-by-case specialisation, but otherwise not much has changed.
Planetary Forces
Given the Conflux’s most recent pre-War history of groundside military activity, one might think that their planetary forces would be similar to the spaceborne ones - light, mobile and fast on their feet. However, this would be entirely wrong. Long before raids became an established practice, the main task of the skirol military was to occupy harvest worlds - primitive and subjugated, but entire planets nonetheless. As such, their armies were built to be enduring, imposing and extremely difficult to dislodge from their positions, a tradition which they continue to follow to this day. Most of the light-footed work is done at the stages of deployment and scouting; after that, one ponderous steel wall follows another.
The backbone of Conflux planetary forces is formed by armour and mechanised infantry. While the skirol can be deadly in close quarters thanks to their bulk and powerful mandibles, they are naturally slow to the point of being barely mobile. Modern diets have aggravated this by making fattening doses more accessible, and even civilians mostly rely on personal vehicles to move about; the military merely takes this to its logical conclusion. All skirol machines are organomechanical hybrids, which eases interfacing on the pilots’ part and allows for adaptive functions like atmospheric filtration.
The biomechanical skirol armies are never encountered without a following of Acolyte auxiliaries. Usually mercenaries or otherwise irregulars, they are a diverse crowd, outfitted with custom weaponry and augmentics to turn them into lethally efficient killing machines. Some go as far as sculpting their body into a form specialised for combat at the expense of everyday utility, a practice only encountered among those most dedicated to the military life and some religious groups.
Hyperdread
Titanic and armed to the teeth, the Embrace of Srynokk is the apex of Conflux fleet construction. An immense project already secretly started in the last years of the Detente, during which its separate components were built at different ends of the Innumerable Suns, the monstrous hybrid ship has recently been assembled into a functioning whole, and its performance has fully lived up to expectations. Despite its proportions, its functional design is rather straightforward, being built to accommodate a staggering number of synchronically working weapons. The only really peculiar part of its equipment are its potent shielding systems, built on layer upon layer of redundant fields; so powerful are they that at extremely close ranges they can become a weapon in their own right, crushing smaller vessels on impact. Furthermore, their radius can easily become a refuge for a small support fleet.
On a sidenote, the ship was originally planned to bear the name Embrace of the Wurm. However, after some resistance from secularist members of the Commission the designation was changed to its current, more neutral one, named after Vesereth’s star.
