Council of Seven Information Services (C.o.S.I.S.) – C

Zrakan let rip with another massive burst of fire, his grinning green face shuddering with the fierce recoil. “Raaaagh!” he shouted out of pure excitement. “Eat that!” He fired again and again, pausing only to shout abuse and reload. The mutant bodies were stacked high now, but still they kept on coming, clambering over the shattered corpses of their fallen comrades to get down the narrow alley to the Orx’ position.

The click of another empty magazine and Zrakan was looking around for more ammo. Only one clip left. Where were those reinforcements? The enemy certainly didn’t seem to be running out. Things might be getting interesting pretty soon.

Slapping the last mag into the weapon, Zrakan aimed down the alley once more, but before he could pull the trigger he noticed that the attackers had paused. Saving his ammo Zrakan watched and waited for the next surge that was sure to come. Then, without warning, a body flew through the air, smacking into the alley wall. Another mutant was smashed against the others and several went down in a tangle of limbs. From the shadows a massive figure crashed into the horde, slashing this way and that with buzz-saws and blades, tearing into them with point blank fire from a dozen guns that ripped great holes in their ranks. In mere moments the blood-spattered figure had smashed through the broken attackers to stand in the alley entrance, gore dripping from his blades and armour.

“Oh Radgrad”, said Zrakan “there you are.”

The Chovar are among the strangest sentient creatures encountered by the GCPS, intensely telepathic creatures that exist in a shared consciousness and bear a striking resemblance to the jellyfish of Old Earth. They exist in a shared consciousness, but despite this (or possibly because of it) they are fiercely individualistic and consequently keen to seek out new cultures and technologies. They are traditionally employed by corporations to witness important contracts, but are often sent to scientific outposts on frontier worlds where their mind-networks are capable of astounding computational feats.

A multi-tendril alien capable of computing immense calculations in seconds, having the Chovar in your ranks can only lend your squad a tactical advantage.

All Chovar are psychic, with many choosing to spend their time contemplating the great mysteries of the universe while linked together as part of a mind-choir. This is not without its risks. Chovar spend months preparing to enter such a bond, for if a single member has not purged all impure thoughts it can gradually taint the entire empathic link. If left unchecked this will eventually cause the other conjoined members of the group to wither and die. Each death leaves a lingering consciousness, detached from its physical body, meshed into the collective psyche of the remaining Chovar. As the final link is severed, the lone remaining creature is driven utterly insane by the conflicting personalities now trapped within its mind. These deranged creatures, referred to as Psychozoans, are often picked up by mercenary fleets and DreadBall sponsors looking to exploit their devastating mental skill and utter lack of empathy.


Our lovable pet Orc and definitely-not-a-Spaniard-in-a-mask, Orcy has coached many DreadBall teams. Some of these teams have even gone on to win a game. Occasionally. With trade mark hammer in hand and a general disgruntled appearance, Coach Orcy is now available to add to your collection!

Even though his team was recently beaten by a different Ronald(o), Coach Renton is famed for his flamboyant style, post-match rants and signature dance moves whenever a Strike is made and big points are earned.

Coach Renton is famed for his pointy finger, general shoutiness and holding his phone close to his chest. He’s as direct in his strategy as an Orx Guard is on the pitch and about as flamboyant as a Veer-myn Striker in a pink dress. Featuring an embeefed bouffant and masterful strategic overview (though don’t get him started on the detail).

The DreadBall MVP known as John Doe is not the only one of his kind within the Corporation, though they are rare. Like John Doe, Codename Oberon has been given a name that his human superiors can pronounce easily, though the irony is that Oberon himself cannot. Still, he is a creature of few words at the best of times. And this isn’t the best of times.

Someone has affronted Oberon’s masters, and though they try to remain in the shadows those masters are plain to all those who care to look. He is one of the Council of Seven’s fixers, able to slip invisibly through official security screens and go where he pleases, containment protocol or not. The fact that he is here at all does show one thing clearly though: someone important is about to die.

Containment Protocol In the vast sea of space claimed by the Corporation, some areas are far better controlled than others. Although they would never admit it, the ruling Council of Seven are not seen as the benign overlords they portray themselves as in every system and by every race. For some they are tyrants and dictators, and for others they are distant fools who fail to realise the wealth they hold. Whether it is insurrection, greed or alien invasion there are often times when the Council want all news from a system to simply stop while they resolve a problem. So, when things get seriously out of hand, when marauding pirate fleets seize a colony, when Rebels throw off Corporation shackles, when Veer-myn erupt from their tunnels or when a Plague breaks out, the Council of Seven order a Containment Protocol.

Although most civilised worlds have at least one prison, the worst of the ISO’s detainees are sent to prison planets like Perestia or Radnon. It’s said that once you get a sentence on a correctional world, you’ll never leave, but that’s a rumour spread to keep the prisoners in check. There are actually dozens of ways off-world, most of which don’t take much more than a well-placed bribe.

Sometimes, though, prisoners will be made an offer before they’ve even entertained the notion of escape. They’d be crazy to turn it down. After all, everyone wants to be a DreadBall player.


Most convicts go willingly. Some assume they are being invited to play in the big leagues, little realising that their future will most likely feature a messy death in one of any number of unlicensed arenas. Others understand this risk, but go anyway; the chances of survival may be slim, but no more so than staying in a dank cell, and this way they get to be as brutal as they want without anyone stopping them. In any case, convict teams will routinely be fitted with “Assurance Devices”, more commonly known as neckweights or blast-collars.


These heavy metal bands, secured around each convict’s neck before they are released to play, act as a fitting deterrent against trying to escape. They also have a secondary use; unscrupulous Sponsors will eagerly detonate players’ ADs if they think they might catch a few opposing players in the blast…


They said it couldn't be done. They said nothing could match the awe-inspiring excess of Co-Prosperity Park… and then they were proved wrong. When The Co-Prosperity Bowl opened up in what used to be Diare Marina, crowds flocked from across the GCPS. It was unlike anything anyone had seen – the absolute pinnacle of modern DreadBall technology. It’s said that for the cost of a front-row seat, you could buy your own mid-ranking DreadBall team, so it’s no surprise that every capacity crowd is rife with celebrities and heads of corporations. There’s even a blast-shielded box, suspended above the centre of the arena, reserved for members of the Council of Seven and their guests. There really is no finer way to enjoy the sophisticated violence of the Sphere’s favourite sport.

Co-prosperity Park is a floating arena in the centre of the Diare district, a multi-trillion credit venue that has hosted such major-league finals as SlamBall IV and GloryBall 8. The stadium is in a constant state of noise, both from the cheers of the fans, shouting from the players and never-ending chatter from the vid-screens and advertising bots.

The industrial giant Trontek is probably the most famous brand in the Corporation, so it is hardly surprising that they also sponsor one of the best teams in DreadBall: the Trontek 29ers.

When DreadBall started out, most teams were human. Since then, more and more alien races have been introduced, but the Trontek 29ers are still one of the most famous teams in modern DreadBall!

The Void Sirens are one of the better-known all-female teams with a long and illustrious history. They have, at one time or another, beaten most of the top teams, and they are always worth watching on the tri-vid. The roster relies on their Jacks and their training focus on Running Interference. This, together with an extensive additional coaching schedule, enables them to react swiftly to opposing plays, and makes the Sirens very tricky to predict. Any offensive drive needs to punch a much bigger hole than usual to guarantee a way past the Siren’s nimble Jacks.

All-female teams have fought hard to be seen as serious athletes rather than pin-ups for the fans. As a result, the Void Sirens currently hold three DGB records, including “most head injuries caused by a single throw”.

Following an extended underground skirmish on Dotha Epsilon, Enforcer units requested more specialist close- quarters equipment. Less than a cycle later, Rhode Industries pulled its CQD Shield from general circulation…

Gmorts Chaotica would like to thank James M Hewitt, Mantic Games, the Quirkworthy Blog, Titan Games and of course the Corporation for their invaluable assistance in the compiling of this encyclopaedia.