The Confederacy of Freelance States is the youngest of the three human governments, born not from revolution or conquest but from a political maneuver that somehow became real.
Long before the Confederacy existed, there were the Free Colonies.
As the League and the Republic expanded into space, people dissatisfied with both governments found they finally had the means to escape. They headed away from the conflict, toward the galactic core, founding colonies far from either power's reach. These settlements were established by a mix of people oppressed by the Terrans, pacifists fleeing the League, and those who simply wanted to be left alone.
For two centuries, these scattered worlds existed in a state of independence that bordered on anarchy. Some thrived; others failed. Trade networks formed and collapsed. Pirate havens emerged alongside legitimate merchant hubs. The only thing these worlds had in common was their refusal to bend the knee to either of the great powers.
Both the League and the Republic viewed these colonies as resources waiting to be claimed. During the long cease-fires between wars, both governments waged shadow campaigns in the Free Colonies—funding militias, destabilizing governments, and working to bring worlds into their respective spheres of influence. By the 2440s, the Republic was making significant headway, and it seemed only a matter of time before the Free Colonies would be absorbed.
In 2448, in what has been near-universally regarded as one of the most inspired and underhanded moves ever attempted on the galactic stage, the League prompted a coalition of Free Colony worlds to unite into a third interstellar human government.
The Declaration of Confederacy was drafted in secret by League diplomats working with sympathetic Free Colony leaders. The document itself was deliberately vague—it established a loose confederation with minimal central authority, guaranteed the autonomy of member worlds, and declared neutrality in the ongoing conflicts between the great powers. It was, by design, the absolute minimum required to claim legitimacy as a government.
To sign the Articles of Confederation, the League needed a capital—somewhere to hold the ceremony and convince the galaxy this new government was legitimate. The NorAellians suggested the Redding System, an unremarkable mining system far from either great power's reach. Its industrial world, Ashfeld, had the manufacturing capacity to support rapid construction.
Working with Emory Shipwrights and Talbot Yards, they constructed Constitution Station in orbit of Ashfeld. The station was built fast and built big—impressive enough to look like a proper capital on camera. What the cameras didn't show was that most of it was empty space. The station had an assembly hall, a handful of offices, minimal quarters, and a mess hall. Delegates were hot-bunking and fighting over desk space.
It was supposed to be a façade. It became something real.
The chaotic early days of Constitution Station came to a head during a dispute over office space between two delegates: Maggie Harker of Ashfeld and Conrad Mercer of the Empire Cluster. Harker was a working-class delegate from a mining world; Mercer was the young heir to one of the Empire Cluster's most powerful mercantile families. When Harker demanded Mercer vacate a contested office, he reportedly made a dismissive comment about "slag pushers."
Harker's response was direct: she cold-cocked him.
The "punch heard round Freelance space" had immediate consequences. The Empire Cluster, humiliated, withdrew from the Confederacy entirely—a decision that has never been reversed. Harker returned to Ashfeld a hero and was unanimously elected planetary governor.
In a twist that still amuses political observers, Harker and Mercer later married. Their union created an unlikely back-channel between the Confederacy and the Empire Cluster that persists to this day.
The League immediately recognized the new Confederacy in a unanimous vote—only the third unanimous vote in League history. This recognition transformed what might have been dismissed as a rebel proclamation into a legitimate act of state.
The Confederacy of Freelance States was initially seen as little more than a cat's paw for the League, or at worst, a paper tiger of an opponent. It was understood by both the Confederacy's founding states and the League itself that this new government was never intended to be more than a pleasant fiction—a legal shield that would deny the Terrans easy access to dozens of settled systems. That the Confederacy has now become a functioning, if frustratingly inefficient, government in its own right was a surprise to everyone.
The Republic disagreed with the Declaration. Strenuously.
To Terran eyes, the Free Colonies were rebellious citizens needing to be brought back in line. This new government, clearly the doing of the League, was a nuisance the Republic felt comfortable ignoring—until they couldn't.
When it became clear that the League and their "pet Confederacy" were not going to stand down, the Republic issued their counter-declaration: the Renlei Zhimindi Xuanyan (Declaration of Human Colonies). This decree proclaimed all Free Colony worlds to be Terran colonies in revolt, subject to reunification by force if necessary.
This declaration kicked off the Fourth Interstellar War, known as the Confederacy War.
For 45 years, the Free Colonies found themselves caught between two interstellar powers. The League provided material support and used Confederacy space as a buffer zone. The Terrans launched punitive expeditions against worlds that refused to submit. Many colonies changed hands multiple times. Others were simply destroyed.
Throughout this chaos, something unexpected happened: the Confederacy started to cohere. Worlds that had never cooperated before found common cause against Terran aggression. Trade networks solidified. Defense pacts were signed. A generation grew up knowing themselves as Confederates, not merely Free Colonists.
In 2493, the Confederacy did the impossible: they built a fleet.
It wasn't much of one—a motley collection of converted freighters, purchased warships, and homebuilt vessels crewed by privateers and militia. But it was enough to make a statement.
More importantly, the NorAellians chose this moment to intervene. Three NorAellian warships arrived alongside the Confederate fleet, carrying a message to both the Terrans and the League that essentially boiled down to: "You children need to calm the fuck down. Now."
The NorAellians forced the Republic to recognize the Confederacy as a legitimate, independent government. They also forced the League to acknowledge that the Confederacy was not their puppet—that it was an independent government in its own right, free from League manipulation.
The Confederacy declared itself neutral in any future conflict between the great powers, so long as their borders were respected, and opened their doors for mutually beneficial trade deals with every other galactic government.
The two centuries since independence have been... complicated.
The Confederacy has never quite figured out what it wants to be. The minimal government structure that made the Declaration possible has proven difficult to expand. Worlds that valued their autonomy above all else have resisted every attempt to create a stronger central authority. The result is a government that can barely pass legislation, struggles to enforce what laws it has, and watches helplessly as corruption and crime flourish in the gaps.
And yet, it persists.
The Confederacy has become a haven for those who don't fit elsewhere—outcasts, entrepreneurs, dreamers, and criminals. Its economy runs on trade, both legal and otherwise. Its borders are porous, its laws are suggestions, and its citizens wouldn't have it any other way.
The great powers view the Confederacy with a mixture of contempt and envy. The Terrans still consider them rebels and traitors. The League treats them as useful but unreliable allies. Both would happily absorb Confederacy space if they thought they could get away with it.
For now, the Confederacy endures—not because it's strong, but because conquering it would cost more than it's worth, and because its people would rather die than submit to outside rule.
The Charlemagne Accords of 2652 brought peace to human space, but the Confederacy was barely involved in the negotiations. They signed what was put in front of them and returned to the business of not governing themselves.
The decades since have seen the Confederacy grow wealthier through trade while its internal problems multiply. Piracy is endemic. Corporate interests have purchased entire star systems. The gap between the prosperous core clusters and the struggling frontier grows wider each year.
When the next war comes—and everyone knows it will—the Confederacy will once again find itself caught between the great powers. Whether it survives will depend entirely on whether its fractious, independent-minded citizens can once again find common cause.
History suggests they probably will. They're stubborn like that.