"From the ashes of stars we rose, yet our hands were stained with the darkness of their fall. To wield such power again would be to court annihilation itself. In the silence of broken worlds, we came to a new accord—one forged not in blood, but in the promise of restraint."
— Supreme Arbiter Ralian Kez, Witness to the Accord
In the twilight of the Second Galactic War, the United Solar Systems Galactic Command (USSGC) and the Terran Empire, two great powers of the stars, clashed in a conflict of unprecedented scale. Their war spread across the galaxy like a cancer, leaving shattered worlds and voids where once there were thriving civilizations. The weapons that each side wielded were not mere tools of war—they were harbingers of destruction, capable of turning stars into black holes, swallowing entire systems and leaving naught but death in their wake.
The weapons—singularities, superweapons borne of forbidden science and unchecked ambition—had the power to unravel the very fabric of existence. They were a product of the old, unchecked arrogance of the empires, weapons that turned the light of stars into endless darkness. As the death toll climbed and systems were consumed in cosmic oblivion, a realization slowly took hold: the universe itself could not survive such power. The stars would burn out, and all would be lost.
The war had come to its inevitable climax—two forces, exhausted and broken by the weight of their own creations, stood at the precipice of annihilation. It was in this moment of utter destruction that the Black Sun was born—a council of representatives from both factions, gathered in the desolate heart of a dying star, where the very energy of creation was being devoured by the void.
At the heart of the council sat those who had lived through the Firestorms—the High Command of the USSGC and the Terran Senate—leaders who had seen firsthand the price of their ambition. The galaxy was torn asunder, its lifeblood drained by their weapons. And so, with no other option, they struck the Black Sun Agreement, a pact that would forever alter the course of the galaxy.
The terms of the Black Sun Agreement were simple, yet binding:
Weapons of Mass Destruction—those capable of turning stars into black holes or causing planetary-scale annihilation—were outlawed.
Fusion and Nuclear Weaponry were banned, and any projectiles that utilized destructive energy, capable of breaking the laws of nature, were to be forever forbidden.
The forces of the galaxy would return to simpler ways of war—swords, hand-to-hand combat, and the ancient powers of Affinity would be the weapons of choice.
The vast fleets of warships would no longer engage in bombardments from afar. Instead, fleets would board, fighting within the bowels of each ship, one strike at a time, under the shadow of ancient customs.
This agreement was meant to restore balance to the cosmos, a return to an era where technology no longer held dominion over the fate of all life, and where the galaxy’s peoples would fight with honor rather than annihilation.
However, even in the midst of this fragile peace, there remained those who would not abide by the new laws. A faction of rebels, known as the Blacksun Traders, arose from the ashes of the war. These outlawed factions operated on the fringe of galactic society, trading in weapons of destruction long forbidden by the Black Sun Agreement. Their ships were no longer mere transports or mercenary vessels, but sleek war machines that bore cannons capable of rending the fabric of space itself. The Traders, who thrived in the lawless regions of the galaxy, trafficked in forbidden weapons—fusion cannons, energy projectiles, and even remnants of the old singularity devices.
Their ships moved like shadows, striking where law and order held no sway, raiding the weak and strong alike, and turning the tide of battle with weapons thought long gone. Yet even they understood that the galaxy was not so easily returned to the age of cataclysm. The Traders, though ruthless and cunning, were themselves bound to the unpredictable currents of galactic politics, and their presence threatened to reignite the very war the Black Sun Agreement had sought to extinguish.
With the Black Sun Agreement in place, the galaxy was not free of war, but it was free of the weapons that could unmake worlds. The stars, though scarred by the fires of their past, burned on. Fleets and armies no longer clashed with the weight of singularities at their backs, but fought with the blades of ancient weapons, and with the might of Affinity—the raw power that connected the soul to the very fabric of existence.
Yet even as the galaxy returned to an age of swords and sorcery, there lingered a quiet dread. The Traders still roamed the dark corners of space, and the galaxy, though more unified than before, knew that peace is a fragile thing. The Black Sun Agreement was not a cure, but a temporary reprieve. And in the hearts of those who remember the Firestorms, there lies the lingering fear that one day, the old powers will rise again, and the stars will burn once more.
But until that day comes, the galaxy lives on—bound by the Black Sun, where the laws of destruction are etched into the stars themselves, and the fight continues with blade in hand.