The Zone Warriors were never meant to exist. They weren’t commissioned, recruited, or even fully agreed upon by the people who formed them. Their origin was born not from ideology or command, but from collision. A collision of chaos, rebellion, and survival instincts forged into a crew that would become one of the most unpredictable forces in the outer galaxy. The spark that lit the flame began on the edge of known space in a region called the Fracture Zone, a stretch of unstable systems ravaged by spatial anomalies, political neglect, and interstellar piracy. The region was known for its lawlessness, black market baronies, and scattered ruins of long-dead empires. It was also where the Dominion quietly conducted its most unethical operations.

The Zone Warriors have no formal chain of command. They follow trust, loyalty, and whoever's shouting loudest during the mission. They are anarchists with a purpose, pirates with principles, and warriors of wild justice. Each one of them is haunted by something, but none of them are defined by it. They don’t always win cleanly. They rarely escape quietly. But wherever someone’s being crushed, wherever the powerful feed on the powerless they arrive like a joke on fire. The galaxy remembers their calling card: A crescent grin, painted in plasma.