8 members / 1 legates
The Apeiron Intergalactic Trade Union focuses on being a non-aggressive org with an emphasis on trade and industry. We seek to be the first and most powerful trade group in the game and promote a culture of self armament within our ranks.
Contact org leader: Atlas The Sovereign#8128
The purpose of A.I.T.U is to promote trade within the game. Trade of anything and everything. [ Excluding people, our philosophers tell us that is a no-no. :( ] In order to let the market thrive, we have chosen to have a stance of Non-Intervention. Furthermore, we are aiming to be a trade hub where everyone is welcome to trade, and if they want, they can stay and become a member of the Trade Union and participate and benefit from the riches to be gained from a mutually defended union of free people.
You may contact Atlas for information on how to join our org (Discord contact info on org front page)
If you are an org leader, here is what you need to know:
Your members may be part of our org with no downside to you. They will only be required to join us in defensive wars. Our organization will never engage in an offensive war.
You may contact Atlas for information on how to join a defensive league with our org (Discord contact info on org front page)
Due to our policy of no offensive wars, you will never need to worry about A.I.T.U. being a threat to your national security. We are more interested in becoming a commercial power rather than a military power.
You should also keep in mind that every member of our org is encouraged to be heavily armed, never surrender and travel in groups. It is not suggested that you underestimate the defensive capabilities of a militarized commerce union.
Good day everyone. -Atlas The Sovereign
"Death before subjugation"
Atlas stormed a path through the crowd, trying to get to a tall sculpture he saw in the middle of the room.
“Shelly, start marking everyone on my HUD with memory degradation below 80%.”
As Atlas pushed through the throng of people, he considered his options. Looking around, people had stopped fighting, but the tension had started rising again. People started forming into groups. Seems the social aspect of humans hadn’t changed.
And there it was. If Atlas could remember that tidbit of knowledge about human social patterns, then his plan might work. As he climbed up the base of the sculpture, Shelly spoke into his ear.
“Order request complete. All passengers under 80% memory degradation have been marked.”
“Perfect, keep it up.” Atlas scanned the room. The amount of people he saw were small, abysmally small. But there might be enough “Narrow them down to people with lower heart rates, I need people who are keeping their cool.”
Even less people now, but enough to get started.
“Shelly, send all of them a message that I want to meet them outside the debriefing hall, and that I have a plan to avoid a panic.”
Atlas worked his way outside. He didn’t have to wait long before two people emerged from the crowd.
“I’m Atlas Clark, what are your names?” Atlas said, putting all the confidence he could into his words.
“Indie Parker,” replied the one to the left. He was taller, with a blue nanosuit.
“Atavon Fowler,” the left one said a moment later, in a green nanosuit.
“Alright, is everyone here aware of what’s going on?”
The two men nodded.
“Alright, we have to try and get out of here. How much do you remember from Earth?”
“Well, I was a programmer, one of the best.” said Indie
“Ship Architect.” replied Atavon.
Slowly, more people nervously made their way over. Atlas took a look at them, before glancing to his side at a row of dispensers. Each displayed a message, “Non-Functional,” at the top. Atlas steeled his eyes and spoke to Atavon.
“Time to get to work.”
Atlas pushed through the throng of people, trying to find anyone or anything sane enough to tell him what was going on. Finally, he found a quiet spot away from most of the crowd and spoke into his helmet.
“Alright, I sat in your chair and went to debriefing, now tell me what in the hell is going on!”
“There are approximately 300,000 people aboard the arkship. Of those 300,000, 98.6% are experiencing memory malfunction 85% or higher. No member is experiencing memory loss below 72%.”
“So no one remembers who they are?”
“This… this is bad.”
Atlas sat in silence at the edge of the chamber. His face contorted between fear and resolution as he tried to decide what to do. “Do you have a name?”
“I am your personal assistant. My name is whatever you want.”
“Fine then, Shelly, why are we all here?”
“The Novark is meant to house the former inhabitants of planet Earth safely to the planet Alioth.”
“Where is Earth?”
Shelly took a moment, and Atlas heard a whining noise from within his helmet. “The last known location of Earth is approximately 182,000,000,000,000 kilometers from Alioth.”
“Last known location? What does that mean?”
“Earth is likely far away from its normal orbit in the galaxy, or broken up beyond recognition as a planet.”
“Because…” Atlas asked leadingly.
“A neutron star passed into the solar system, causing irreversible damage to the star, planets, and their orbits.”
“So we’re here to escape that?”
Atlas sunk down into a seated position. Something about the name “Earth” tickled his memory. Brief glimpses of faces he couldn't recognize flashed behind his eyes. He tried to shove it aside and focus on the present. He felt like someone important taught him to do that, long ago. He looked up, and noticed that most of the people surrounding him were speaking into their helmets as he was. Apparently, news was spreading.
“Shelly, we need to get out of here, before riots start.”
“Affirmative. Do you have a plan?”
“I think I do.”
The Apeiron Chronicles is mini-series released frequently on the community page for The Apeiron Empire.
“Attention, Ark passenger.”
The stark darkness seemed to press into every corner of the room.
“Attention, Ark Passenger.”
A slight groan escaped a still form laying in the middle of the chamber. Lights began to flicker on overhead, revealing a man in a red nanosuit. An open cryopod stood silently behind him. Across the room, a door slid open into a steel corridor.
“Please make your way to the Identification and Evaluation Center.”
The man slowly made his way up to his feet. His head was pounding from within his helmet, and he felt an entire truck’s worth of weight on his shoulders.
“Message repeat: Please make your way to the Identification and Evaluation Center.”
The man took a moment looking out the door before shuffling out, his steps gaining confidence as his headache receded. A glowing arrow on the floor pointed to his right.
“Where am I?” the man softly spoke to himself.
“You are aboard the Novark. You are currently on the target destination, Alioth. Please make your way to the Identification and Evaluation center.” The voice came from somewhere within the man's helmet. As he considered his options, he strode with as much dignity as his weary mind could muster down the hall. When he arrived at the end, a pair of doors slid open to reveal a large room full of chairs. One of the nearest ones lit up, and the voice spoke again.
“Please sit down.”
“What is going on?” replied the man.
“Message repeat: please si-”
“Enough! If I sit down, will you tell me what’s happening?”
There was a pause before the voice spoke. “Yes.”
The man sighed, and made his way into the chair. It began to shift, putting him into the reclining position. Devices whined and whirred somewhere he couldn’t see, and after a minute of waiting, a new voice spoke from the chair.
“Identification and evaluation complete. Ark Passenger ID: 36-9B. Name: Atlas Clark. Physical health: Nominal. Mental health: Signs of memory degradation. Semantic and factual memory at 12% functionality. Recovery unsuccessful. Please, make your way to the debriefing room.” A series of glowing arrows appeared at the bottom, leading him to a closed entryway. As Atlas arrived at the door, he made out a sound he couldn’t identify. As the door opened, he realized it was the shouting of hundreds of people. In the massive room, people milled around, ran, and from what he could tell, people were fighting.
“What.. what in the world happened?”
The Apeiron Chronicles is mini-series released frequently on the community page for The Apeiron Empire.
космические мушкетеры or the Russian space musketeers were an extremely specialized unit capable of hitting a land, space, ground, or naval units. Their weapons were much more accurate than the more destructive Ion Beams, which were used for much larger AOE damage. The space musketeers were few in number, as their maintenance costs were extremely high and they were nearly untouchable until the invention of more accurate laser weapons, which led to their eradication during the great war.
As a small Empire, we will be examining the historic artifacts "found" by Emperor Atlas. They contain designs for buildings and ships, units, and command structures. These pieces of what once was may affect what will be.
Did you join this game to mine?
Did you join this game to trade?
To explore the stars?
To become a pilot?
To become a leader of a great naval unit?
To become a spy?
Maybe even a ship designer/builder?
Or maybe you have even more glorious dreams to realize.
If you seek glory, power, riches, or above all, great relationships with real people who will aid you in battle, trade, and all other groups of the game, then join The Apeiron Empire! We will teach you the game and make sure you are put in the right environment to flourish and make a name for yourself. We pride ourselves on only allowing those who have the game to fully join the org fully. We are not like other orgs, what you see on our org page are real players that have the game. What are you waiting for? Your great future awaits you! Join now!
If you want to reserve your spot with us until you get the game though, you may join our discord with limited access to a few channels.(Reposted because one of the links were bugging)
Government Type: Minarchist Trade Union
Political Stance: Defensive/Non-Aggressive
Culture: Market-based and Militaristic
Pastimes: Recreational Explosions and making money to buy more things to recreationally explode
The Apeiron Intergalactic Trade Union is an org that is based in one primary city with other outposts across the galaxy in strategic locations. We are a collection of smaller groups and businesses that work together to provide a mutual defense so that our players may trade, create, and do business without having to pick between going at it alone or subjugating themselves to a larger, power hungry group.
A.I.T.U. is for you if:
A.I.T.U. is a great org to be partnered with:
A.I.T.U. is your ideal ally if your org: