The CoK came into existence on the coattails of the Age of Sterility, in the devastating aftermath of the Great War. Two centuries of ceaseless conflict claimed a considerable portion of the civilian population of most nations, with the battle itself going on to claim an equally disastrous toll on the remaining military forces the Great Nations involved could muster. By the end of the final pitched battle of the war—the Battle of Khalik, all that remained of the military forces arrayed against one another numbered at a mere 6,000.
As the spent armies teetered on the brink of annihilation, whatever was left of the leadership among them unanimously agreed to an armistice. While initially a tenuous affair, preliminary incongruities gave way to the shared sentiment that their respective societies had each failed them. After much deliberation, the remaining forces agreed to pool their resources and form what would come to be known as the Consociation of Khalik.
The highest-ranking members of the Great Nations’ surviving military force would each become a founding member of the Council—the ruling body of the CoK. With the characteristic efficiency of grizzled veterans, they went about the task of restructuring themselves from the ground-up into a single organization of unified purpose and establishing their headquarters in the cratered remains of their namesake. With the planet’s population decimated in the wake of the Great War and the largest concentration of military power choosing to cut its ties to the governing bodies that brought them to ruin, the CoK maneuvered itself into bringing about the unprecedented to the long-standing order.
The Council would adamantly proclaim that their intent was not to dictate the manner in which the Great Nations would run themselves, but to function as arbitrators interceding on behalf of all bonekind. Never again would any of the Great Nations be allowed to build up their military power so as to present an existential threat to the entire species—the only military force of any consequence would be that of the CoK’s and so it would remain in perpetuity. In exchange for its guardianship, it is to receive a tithe of bones and resources from all nations under its charge. In no position to resist, all but one of the Great Nations would begrudgingly agree to the terms set forth by the self-appointed adjudicator.
Presently, the CoK’s infrastructure and sphere of influence stretches across all known territory—no small logistical feat. Under its aegis, no nation is permitted to raise a military ever again; to do so would be considered an act of war and swiftly dealt with. To this end, the CoK conducts frequent audits and investigations on its constituents to ensure compliance. Tithes are calculated based on routinely updated census and logistics data. CSF lanes, the only sanctioned routes through which nations can enter each other’s territory, are well-surveilled and heavily guarded. In this endeavor, Council Security Forces bear the grinding monotony of point defense and screening work with stoic diligence. The Council outwardly maintains an attitude of neutrality that borders on the aloof towards the Great Nations. The bones tithed or voluntarily enlisted into the monolithic organization are indoctrinated to hold the mission of the CoK above all former allegiances—demonstrating it regularly with the zealous fervor of a helot and the cold indifference of a bureaucrat in equal measure.
If the CSF is the shield of the CoK, then the Hexchiliad is the mighty gavel of the organization, answerable only to the Council. Known colloquially as ‘The Six Thousand’, they are a far cry from the tattered medley of depleted militaries after the climax of the war. Though their number has never exceeded it, each member of the Hexchiliad is a warrior without peer, equipped with cutting-edge technology to further bolster their already formidable ability.
No weapon is as synonymous with destruction or as powerful a deterrent as the Phybron and the archetypal warriors that wield them. The Phybron fires a magnium-tipped spitzer round with a fulgis crystal core encased within a depleted metal jacket. What the Phybron does not penetrate through, it obliterates as the magnium tip compresses upon the unstable fulgis core within to produce a concussive blast of extirpating force. The weapon appears to have no oversight paid to its capacity for gross collateral damage—rather, it appears designed for it.
