The chief governing body of the Inner Universe and the Big Seven races that inhabit it. The ULP is a senate composed of representatives from each of it's recognized races and the many planets and colonies they lay claim to. It is, like many large, multi-cultured governing bodies, very well meaning but ultimately bogged down in red tape, bureaucracy and political gamesmanship. At least the name is impressive.
The ULP has many branches. Many are actually more efficient and effective than the parent body that spawned them.
The Universal Police Agency, UNIPOL is charged with upholding the ULP's law within the Inner Universe. Their ranks include many millions, ranging from run-of-the-mill officers and constables, to detectives, forensic scientists and many, many other specialized roles. They frequently come into conflict with the Bleeding Hearts as they have drastically different ideas of "justice" at times.
Everything from disaster prevention and relief to epidemic control and containment fall under this body of the ULP. With the hundreds of worlds and varying degrees of colonization of each within the Inner Universe, you can bet that every day is a busy day for these doctors, scientists and rescue workers.
The word 'shady' is all-too-inadequate in describing this intelligence agency. Charged with keeping tabs on the goings on—ALL the goings on—within the Inner Universe, Eye is everywhere and probably knows everything... at least, as long as it's within the ULP's borders. Frighteningly, the total number of specialists employed by this agency is rumored to be less than ten thousand—draw your own conclusions about that.
The Inner Universe is the much-lauded paradise of the United League of Planets, where peace, law and consumerism rule the day. Free market trade and a competitive business market has created the strongest economy known in the entire history of civilization—the rich are getting richer and the poor are buying condos. The combined personal wealth of the citizens of the Inner Universe have ensured a quality of life unthinkable for some races just a scant two centuries prior, proving that while money can't by love or happiness, it can buy pretty much everything else—long life, perfect health, the almost complete eradication of crime, your every whim catered to by the conveniences of a perfect consumer society.
Yes, the Inner Universe is really, really boring. No wonder why all the cool kids, colonists, criminals and mercenaries go and chill in the Frontier instead.
The Inner Universe's wild, dangerous and vaguely sleazy sister, where systems and patches of space trade hands and change flags on a month-to-month basis; where the discovery of new systems and worlds can mean uncovering a treasure trove of resources or sealing your own fate—sometimes elaborately and even hilariously; where freedom from the powerful and ever present ULP comes at the cost of suffering criminals, terrorists, anarchists and xenozoological monstrosities. The law is spread thin here, virtually unenforceable. It's no wonder as to why virtually every illicit organization forced out of the Inner Universe has set its stakes down in the Frontier.
It's in this free, open and often hostile environment that a new breed of mercenary has been sired. Less the soldier of fortune from yesteryear and more of an entrepreneurial enforcer, mercs are the closest thing to law enforcement that serves the people in the Frontier. They are former soldiers; they are ex-cops and ex-crooks; they are brawlers, wrestlers and martial artists; they are leg breakers, toe cutters and scalpers; they are holy men, pagan worshippers and new age mystics of technology; they are madmen, misanthropists and sociopaths; they are anyone and everyone, from all races, castes, creeds, faiths and walks of life.
Chances are, if you're reading this, you are one.