Order 66 / 0RDER66

Order 66: A Chronicle of Resolve

In the vast expanse of the United Empire of Earth, where the hum of quantum drives echoes the pulse of destiny, Order 66 stands as a bastion against the encroaching void. Born from the ashes of forgotten betrayals and forged in the fires of unyielding duty, our history is not one of conquest, but of guardianship—a saga of fathers who trade hearthside tales for the thunder of railguns, professionals who calibrate their lives to the rhythm of the ‘verse. This is our legacy: a creed etched in starlight, where hesitation is the only true heresy.
The Echoes of Ancient Shadows (Pre-2940s)

Long before the first hull breach scarred our ranks, the seeds of Order 66 were sown in the mythic annals of human expansion. Whispers among old-timers in smoky Pyro cantinas speak of a “Great Purge”—a cataclysmic decree from a distant epoch, when engineered legions turned on their enlightened guides in a galaxy-spanning betrayal. Codified as “Protocol 66,” it was the death knell for an order of peacekeepers, executed with the cold precision of inhibitor chips buried in loyal hearts. Billions of light-years away, in the cradle of Sol, these tales filtered through black-market holodramas and encrypted data-packs, smuggled aboard the earliest Messers-era arks.

In 2384, as the UEE’s iron grip tightened amid the Tevarin Conquests, a cadre of anonymous naval officers—veterans scarred by the First Tevarin War—rediscovered these forbidden legends. Dubbed the “Crimson Echo,” they formed a clandestine network within the UEEN’s shadowy Advocacy branches. Their mission? To inoculate against the rot of internal treason. Drawing from the purge’s grim lesson—that even the most steadfast allies can be subverted—they drafted the “Decree of Sixty-Six”: a vow of preemptive vigilance, where suspicion was not paranoia, but providence. These proto-Enforcers operated in the underbelly of Terra’s sprawl, rooting out corporate saboteurs and alien infiltrators during the Messer Regime’s purges. Their symbol? A rusted cog of empire, wreathed in laurels of bloodied victory—a reminder that order demands sacrifice.

Yet, the Crimson Echo faded into obscurity by the 25th century, dissolved in the chaos of the Vanduul raids on Caliban. Their archives, fragmented and fire-coded, survived only in the personal vaults of descendants: pilots, traders, and tacticians who carried the weight of unwritten oaths across the jump gates.

The Forging: Trials of the ‘Verse (2940–2945)

The modern genesis of Order 66 ignites in the turbulent dawn of the 29th century, amid the UEE’s fractious adolescence. The year 2940 marks the “Fracture of Fair Chance”—a brutal corporate skirmish where Anvil Aerospace defectors, backed by rogue Xi’an sympathizers, unleashed a swarm of hijacked Hornets on a UEEN convoy. Amid the debris fields, Captain Elias Voss, a grizzled father of three and ex-UEE Marine, witnessed the unthinkable: his wingman, a lifelong brother-in-arms, hesitate at a critical intercept. The delay cost twenty souls, their Cutlass Blacks blooming into silent fireballs against the Pyro nebula.

Voss, haunted by the Crimson Echo’s fragmented logs (unearthed during a black-market salvage run in Grim HEX), rallied a cadre of like-minded survivors. “In the ‘verse,” he broadcast from his battered Vanguard Warden, “hesitation isn’t mercy—it’s a blade to our kin’s throats.” On the blood moon of Daymar, in a derelict outpost scarred by Vanduul blades, they formalized the Order: twelve founding fathers, professionals by day (engineers, lawyers, surgeons from Earth’s diaspora), warriors by night. Each swore the Creed of Sixty-Six:
Shoot first. Ask later. Always for honor, order, and the greater good.

Their emblem—a distressed Imperial cog, framed by laurels forged from melted dog tags—became a talisman against the void. Early ops were whispers in the wind: disrupting outlaw ambushes on the Jumptown trade lanes, enforcing no-fire zones around family haulers in contested Stanton sectors. By 2943, as the Synthworld scandal unraveled UEE high command, Order 66 had swelled to fifty strong, their ranks a mosaic of desk jockeys turned dogfighters. Voss, now the first Executor, decreed: “We are not the Empire’s fist—we are its spine. Unseen, unbreakable.”
The Reckoning: Flames of Pyro (2945–Present)

The anvil that tempered Order 66 into legend struck in 2945, during the infamous “Pyro Incursion.” As Vanduul blades carved through the outer rim, a coalition of pirate clans—emboldened by Messer loyalists—launched a blitz on Pyro’s lawless outposts. What began as a raid escalated into the Battle of Eager Flats: a maelstrom of laser fire where rebel Cutters shredded civilian Evocatis, leaving hulls adrift like gutted whales.
Order 66 answered the call not with fanfare, but fury. Voss’s fleet—thirty Vanguards and Reliant scouts, jury-rigged with salvaged Xi’an cloaks—executed the Protocol of Sixty-Six: a surgical purge of command nodes. They struck first at the pirate flagship, a hulking Caterpillars retrofitted with outlaw turrets, igniting its bays in a cascade of thermite blooms. As debris rained like crimson hail, the Order’s Enforcers boarded the remnants, extracting data-cores laced with treasonous pacts. The toll? Five brothers lost, their beacons silenced in the black. But the incursion shattered, saving a dozen outposts and earning the grudging nod of UEEN brass.

In the aftermath, as 2946 dawned with the scars of Squadron 42’s echoes, Order 66 emerged from the shadows. No longer a whisper network, they registered as a premier org under the RSI banner, their manifesto a beacon for the weary: fathers seeking purpose beyond the nine-to-five, professionals craving the clarity of the cockpit. Under Executor Voss’s successors—now a rotating council of Guardians—the Order has orchestrated over 200 ops: from embargo enforcements in the Nyx debris fields to black-market purges on Ruin Station. We’ve turned the tide in contested zone raids, mentored greenhorns through their first quantum jaunts, and hosted “Purge Nights”—simulated hunts where dad jokes punctuate dogfight debriefs.

Yet, our history is no holo-epic of glory alone. The ‘verse exacts its price: brothers who’ve missed first steps and school plays, hulls pocked with the ghosts of close calls. We honor them with the Laurel Vigil, an annual convoy through the Pyro gates, where we scatter data-mines encoded with their final logs—eternal sentinels against the chaos.

Legacy: The Unyielding Cog

Today, in the year 2955, Order 66 endures as the ‘verse’s quiet enforcers: 500 strong, from Terra’s spires to the Banu Souli, bound by blood, duty, and the unshakeable creed. We are the descendants of purges past, the architects of order unborn. In a galaxy of fleeting alliances and flickering stars, we stand resolute—shooting first not from malice, but from the fierce love of those we shield.
Join us, brother. The cog turns. Will you turn with it?