Madrisa Prime

Madrisa Prime is the capital world of the Iolar, a technologically sophisticated offshoot of humanity long since split from Terra. It is a massive world, over twice the size of mankind's ancestral homeworld and populated with nearly a trillion souls. Over millennia the once distant colony has evolved and surpassed the dogmatic technological malaise of the Imperium, intent on innovation and the advancement of the human species. In this intervening span a curious religion has likewise grown to encompass almost every aspect of life and society, based on a principle of personal improvement through the direct integration of technology: the cult of the Trinary Will.   Motivated by this techno-spiritual devotion, the lives of most Iolar citizens are concerned with gathering enough resources to acquire the means of spiritual enlightenment. Almost every resident old enough to survive augmentative surgery has some obvious part of their anatomy replaced with a synthetic alternative of alloy and polymer. The planet itself has not escaped this technological obsession and its surface is a nested maze of concrete, steel, and nigh incomprehensible logistics. All hints of natural splendor are facades, carefully cultivated and manicured, even manufactured, and in many cases also technologically enhanced from ancient genetic baselines. From this hardened soil, titans of industry and progress have emerged to dominate the socioeconomic landscape: the Fabricator Enclaves. These massive conglomerates span the world and beyond into Iolar-controlled space and their hunger for progress has propelled incredible feats of technological prowess on the backs of crushing industrial might. Their competitive squabbles are one of the few things that stand between them and the Alloministry, the political arm of Iolar society. That, and the eccentric wills of the captains of the Sovereign Fleet.   These high-minded institutions mean little in the day-to-day lives of the average Iolar citizen. While all are eager to acquire the spoils of innovation, the truth is naturally less glamorous and far more bitter. Across the glittering artificial jewel of Madrisa Prime's surface, the marvels and monuments of technological prowess are built on the same grubby foundations of human toil as have always propped up humanity. For most men and women, the daily struggle to survive makes spiritual devotion a difficult irony to contemplate. Some argue that this is only natural, that competition and cooperation in balance have always driven humanity to its greatest heights. That kind of philosophy is a dangerous and foolish dream in the places far from the gleaming crystal and steel spires of privilege. The fact of the matter is that down on the street, survival of the fittest is still the only real law. No amount of technology, philosophy, or vapid dogma seems capable of overcoming this sordid principle. As ever, those who make it to the top consider themselves blessed and everyone else fights for the scraps they leave in their wake.