Birth of a New Nation or Unacceptable Treason, United Orbital Colonies

Low Earth Orbit — February 4, 2065 (IWN) — Months after the collapse of America’s eastern sea wall and the mass inland migration that followed, a new political frontier has emerged far above the planet’s surface. U.S.-operated orbital facilities, including multiple lunar outposts and commercial habitats, have finalized their separation from Earth jurisdiction under a unified banner: the United Orbital Colonies (UOC).

The declaration, broadcast simultaneously from low Earth orbit and the lunar surface, affirms the coalition’s intent to “act as an independent body, free to negotiate for its survival and the continuity of human presence beyond Earth.” For many, it marks not a revolution, but the inevitable result of a government that lost both its footing and its reach.

A Coalition Born from Isolation

The UOC includes several long-established orbital stations, two lunar mining colonies, and a handful of once-luxury hotels now converted into residential habs. At its center stands Centurious Station, the massive orbital shipyard that had only just completed a decade-long refit when the sea walls fell.

“Centurious was built to expand humanity’s reach, not endure isolation,” said Commander Elara Hsu, a senior engineer aboard the station. “When the ports drowned, our supply lines drowned with them. Independence isn’t rebellion, it’s necessity.”

With major launch facilities destroyed and aerospace manufacturing scattered across the inland states, the coalition argues that remaining bound to U.S. jurisdiction would guarantee slow collapse.

Lunar Lifelines Under Strain

On the Moon, Helium-3 mining colonies, the fusion backbone of orbital power, are struggling to maintain production.
“Our reactors are fueled, but our people aren’t,” explained Dr. Marcus Imani, chief geologist at Selene Base. “We can mine Helium-3 for years, but without steady food and medical imports, we’re starving in the light of plenty.”

Crews have begun experimenting with makeshift hydroponics and salvage reclamation, but morale remains thin. What once was a proud U.S. frontier now operates under triage conditions.

Interim Government Issues a Military Warning

From Colorado Springs, seat of the Interim U.S. Government, officials denounced the UOC’s declaration as “an unlawful and dangerous defiance of national authority.”
“This coalition represents a clear act of rebellion,” stated Acting Space Affairs Secretary Carla Durness, speaking from the Continental Command Center. “These facilities remain United States property, built and maintained with public funds. Any effort to trade independently with foreign powers constitutes the misappropriation of strategic assets.”

Durness went on to issue a formal threat of military enforcement, invoking the Space Force’s authority to “reassert control” over U.S. orbital holdings.

“If the so-called United Orbital Colonies persist in their defiance,” she said, “the United States Space Force will take the necessary measures to restore lawful governance. No self-proclaimed government in orbit will dictate terms to the people of Earth.”

As a former Space Force embedded correspondent, I can say that such threats carry less weight than they once did. The collapse of coastal infrastructure has grounded most launch operations, leaving only a handful of Orbital Security Command (OSC) patrol craft in service, aging interceptors operating from damaged carrier platforms with minimal resupply. Their communication arrays still function, but their reach ends at low orbit. Any attempt at enforcement beyond that range would be symbolic at best, and catastrophic at worst.

Civil Institutions Under Siege

In a development that underscores how drastically federal authority has shifted, the Interim Government in Colorado Springs has suspended Congress under an expanded state-of-emergency decree and effectively consolidated executive and military powers into the Continental Command Center. Surviving members of the House and Senate who have attempted to travel to Colorado seeking access to political infrastructure report being turned away at military checkpoints.

Multiple lawmakers, including both representatives and senators who survived coastal evacuations, have issued statements condemning the suspension as an unlawful power grab. According to several aides who spoke on background, requests to meet with interim leadership were denied on grounds of “national security and continuity” until a formal framework for reconstituted governance can be established.

The move has deepened domestic divisions: critics charge the interim authority with creating a military state, while supporters argue that centralized command was unavoidable given the scale of the disaster. Either way, the denial of civil legislative access hardens the image of a government operating in bunker mode, one that is quick to weaponize the rhetoric of security to preserve control.

International Warnings and Quiet Deals

At the United Nations Office in Geneva, Dr. Tomasz Kivela, Chair of the UN Space Governance Council, confirmed that multiple nations had warned the U.S. years earlier about over-centralizing orbital logistics.
“When one nation monopolizes off-world infrastructure, any terrestrial failure cascades into space,” Kivela said. “What we’re witnessing isn’t treason, it’s physics meeting politics.”

Diplomatic channels in Geneva hint that some nations are already in unofficial contact with UOC representatives, exploring trade of Helium-3, station parts, and data relay access in exchange for humanitarian aid. None have publicly admitted it.

A Decade of Warnings Ignored

Scientists aboard Centurious argue that none of this needed to happen.
“We told them the Sea Wall wouldn’t last another decade under Category-9 storms,” said Dr. Lena Ortega, a systems scientist aboard the station. “They said the upgrades were too expensive. Now the ports are gone, the roads are gone, and so is any way to feed orbit.”

Between Survival and Sovereignty

Life aboard the newly independent stations is raw but determined. Families grow herbs in pressure domes. Engineers scavenge the shells of derelict satellites for alloys. Small freighters barter oxygen tanks, battery cores, and raw proteins like frontier traders from another century.

“We’re not rebels,” said Captain Omar Al-Sayeed, a cargo pilot recently docked at Centurious. “We’re what’s left of the United States that can still look down on Earth without drowning.”

The United Orbital Colonies now float in political limbo, technically American, functionally autonomous, and rapidly learning that survival in orbit may depend less on allegiance than on ingenuity.

“When the sea rose, the surface fractured,” Dr. Ortega said. “Now, so has the sky.”