When I first started working on Talaria Voyages, I knew I wanted the setting to feel big.
Not just in the sense that space is big. I wanted the kind of galaxy where the characters could leave one system behind and have no idea what they might run into in the next one.
I liked the feel of The Expanse, where crossing to the next civilized planet was like crossing an ocean. But had to balance that with space opera storytelling. If it was TOO big, a lot of what I wanted to do (and what readers have come to expect) wouldn't work.
The problem with making a big science-fiction setting is that "big" gets complicated very quickly.
You need places. You need governments. You need technology. You need a reason people can actually get from one place to another. And, of course, you need to know who lives there.
Welcome to the Arc
The Arc is a region of space tucked between two major spiral arms of the galaxy. I liked the idea of the setting having borders, like mountains of sorts. The spiral arms were perfect for that, given the density of stellar matter would make crossing them nigh impossible.
So I found an area where beings could naturally evolve, at a safe distance from the galactic core, but not so far out that they are barely hanging onto an orbit. Starting in the area where Earth sits in the galaxy was a great spot for narrative reasons, too. Tracing the area from the nexus of the arms to the outer regions formed an arc on the star chart, hence the name.
Despite there being millions of stars in that slice of vacuum, I didn't want my setting to be like Star Wars, with countless aliens that I have to keep track of. I also like to think that naturally habitable worlds are still relatively rare.
And I didn't like the idea of races coming from environments that were toxic to other races for a lot of reasons. Mostly, I wanted these worlds to feel connected.
That's where the transit network came in.
The Bridges
The Arc is connected by an enormous network of hypergates, commonly called Bridges.
A Bridge allows ships to enter hyperspace and travel between star systems in a fraction of the time conventional travel would require. Each system can support multiple Bridges, creating something that resembles a gigantic interstellar highway system.
The Bridges became one of the most important pieces of the setting because they changed the way I thought about distance. In a lot of space opera, faster-than-light travel can make the galaxy feel surprisingly small. A ship jumps--whether into hyperspace or at warp-whatever--and it arrives wherever the plot needs it to be.
So, there are major routes. There are less-traveled systems. There are bottlenecks. There are places where commerce flourishes because everyone has to pass through them, and there are systems at the end of the line where a delayed freighter might be noticeable.
The Bridges aren't just transportation. They're the infrastructure holding civilization together. And that makes them incredibly important when something goes wrong.
Twelve Sapient Races
Well, technically there are thirteen, but I'll get into that later.
Once I had the geography and the concept of space travel figured out, I started thinking about the people who inhabit this corner of the galaxy. I came up with the number twelve for a few reasons. It seemed the right balance.
But I didn't want twelve variations of humans with different foreheads.
Each race needed to feel like it had its own history, culture, strengths, weaknesses, and assumptions about the universe. That doesn't mean every individual fits neatly into a stereotype. In fact, some of my favorite characters are fun precisely because they don't.
The last thing I wanted to do was to pigeonhole a race into a particular talent. Because just like on Earth, an entire planet of people will have countless variations when it comes to skills and culture.
But the cultures provide a starting point.Terrans are there to give readers an anchor, but they have had 300 years in space to develop their own identity.
Put all twelve together, and you get something much more interesting than a collection of alien species. You get a neighborhood. And like any neighborhood, not everyone gets along.
The thirteenth race is the Cybrent, born when society learned what happens when you make AI sophisticated enough and give it enough autonomy.
The Politics Get Interesting
The Arc is currently dominated by three major political powers: the Terran Commonwealth, the Makari Union, and the K'toman Empire.
That alone creates plenty of opportunities for conflict, but governments don't control everything.
That's important to Talaria Voyages because I don't want the stories to feel like they're only about governments moving pieces around a chessboard. They're about people.
A Galaxy Built for Stories
All that said, I didn't want to build a universe where details existed just because I thought it sounded cool. I wanted the setting to generate stories.
The transit network creates opportunities for smuggling, piracy, commerce, exploration, and military conflict. The twelve races create cultural friction, alliances, friendships, and misunderstandings. The political powers create larger conflicts. And the sheer size of the Arc means there is always somewhere else to go.
That's probably my favorite part of the setting.
I still haven't come close to defining everything that's out there. There are stories happening beyond the edges of the ones I'm telling now. There are worlds the Talaria hasn't visited yet. There are races the crew hasn't met. There are old technologies nobody completely understands. There are political tensions that haven't exploded yet.
That's the fun of building a universe.
You start with a ship. Then you build a star system around it. Then another. Then you need a way to connect them. Then you need people to inhabit them. And before you know it, you've built an entire corner of the galaxy—and you're still discovering what's hiding in it.











































