My world is to take place on the NOMad (NeoEarth Orbital Mining and Drilling) Station. Humanity came to the verge of collapse as our collective need transcended the Earth's resources. Government led evacuation and resettlement programs were limited in scope and availability. Desperate families sought out alternative means to protect and preserve themselves, predominantly promising an indentured servitude to independent contractors with privatized resettlement ambitions. Coalitions within the human fleet fractured, and humanity became dispersed throughout the stars; each ship seeking its own fortune.
The NOMaD Station is one of these private endeavors, nestled in an asteroid belt filled with a carbon-rich mineral ore. It has been years since anyone from the NOMaD station has seen or heard word from other human settlement programs. Intelligent alien contact is limited to enigmatic trade organizations that buy up much of the mineral ore for export back to their societies, but cultural influence in almost non-existent. A feudal hierarchy has been established by the descendants of the original contractors where over 80% of the population are in direct servitude to different families of the royal caste, many of these reside within the Intermediary Deck and the residential areas of the Upper Deck. Corruption is rampant through all levels of the NOMaD Station, and quality of life is becoming increasingly polarized for the different factions, with the workers becoming destitute while royalty enjoy increasingly lavish accommodations and parties. To combat crime, The Citadel is established on the Upper Deck and staffed by members of the working class. Tragically, members of The Citadel slowly began to manipulate their power to leverage themselves above the indentured workers, often times friends and family members they had known their entire lives.
As it stands, society is being held together by a thread. Worker strikes are being punished by increasingly violent and drastic measures from The Citadel. Various religious entities have capitalized on the strangled hopes of the working class, seeming only to parasitically leach strength from private worker union organizations. If nothing changes, the NOMaD station risks an all out civil war.