Company Name: The Vesuvian Syndicate
Intent: It varies from executive to executive, but money, power, and hedonism are common themes.
Location: Gomorr, an enormous world of frigid temperatures and toxic, barren landscapes. The ground is almost solely made up of gray clay, and there's no water to freeze in the cold. However, a sizable spot on the planet is occupied by a massive city residing within an artificial atmosphere. Within, dizzyingly gargantuan skyscrapers and office buildings house multiple armies' worth of the Syndicate's employees and underbosses, constantly at work to get ahead in business. At the center of Gomorr City, surrounded by colossal walls always manned by a sizable force of the Syndicate's best soldiers, is another, smaller settlement, composed of Utopian gardens, elegant Victorian mansions, and sickening pleasure dens. Golgoth, home to the Inner Circle, is a place ripped straight from twisted power fantasies everywhere.
Affiliation: Everybody deals with the Vesuvian Syndicate at one point or another, and nobody enjoys it.
Worth: 600 trillion credits yearly from legal business ventures the universe over, and a truly incalculable, mind-bendingly colossal amount of generated wealth from the Syndicate's illegal and morally questionable, off-the-record business dealings.
Description and History:
Money talks, bullshit walks, friend. And if the boys and girls within the Vesuvian Syndicate have one thing, it's money.
Now, you don't become one of the richest organizations in the known universe by playing softball and making friends. The Syndicate's not a business; they're an intergalactic mafia, a soulless, despicable grouping of the worst humanity has to offer given free reign of the stars. They're everywhere, and they deal in everything. Pharmaceuticals, weaponry, starships, military hardware, personal devices. Narcotics, human trafficking, blackmail, political espionage, wholesale murder, and economized genocide, in a few past situations. If you want something, they have it, and they're selling, as long as you can pay.
The Syndicate itself was founded back on Terra, around when this whole "intergalactic colonization" thing started up and humanity began meeting races and peoples besides themselves. Nobody knows who founded it; the policy of record-burning and memory-wiping oh-so popular within the organization's seen to that. At first, things started innocently enough. Military equipment, some satisfactory cosmic exploration vessels, the works. But pretty soon, people could tell what kind of business it was growing up into. Opium dens, popping up on moons. Imported miners, drugged and shanghaied away to colonial worlds. Military prototype mechs and experimental weaponry showing up and being tested on both sides in backwater conflicts. Things only ramped up from there, and with the passage of time and the expansion of humanity, the Syndicate grew up into the big, bad, evil-doing organization it is today.
The Vesuvian Syndicate is evil, but so far, nobody can stop it. They play rough, and they don't stop until you couldn't possibly start again. They'll buy your home planet and turn it into an industrial wasteland. They'll jettison your family into the sun of a solar system you haven't even heard of, even the cousins. They'll ruin you, they'll ruin everyone who's ever glanced at you, and they'll ruin everything that's ever had a conscious thought concerning everyone who's ever glanced at you.
They don't move pieces on the chess board, they bulldoze the building you're playing chess in. Better wear a hard hat.
Okay, got the basics down! I'll be writing up products, planets, and people related to this little business once I get some more time.