Rise of the Rogue Legion (FT, Open, anti-GE)

[Asfaltum]

The flames had died out, sooner or later they always did, even though they had been caused by nuclear holocaust on a planetary scale. Much had changed since that fateful day, the day when Imperial aggression had led to the destruction of yet another planet, Asfaltum Prime, a planet that would go down in history for being the place where Emperor Palpatine was killed.
Several years had now passed, the survivors of Asfaltum Prime, along with all other inhabitants of the Asfaltum realm, had literally fled the galaxy. In a quiet mass exodus they had all vanished, choosing to rebuild their homes in another place, keeping their location secret from the warmongers, the Galactic Empire, who if possible might even contemplate the prospect of tracing their steps into another galaxy, and violently putting an end to their self-imposed exile. Thus they remained unheard of.

Not all had fled the galaxy however. A small taskforce chose to stay; men and women who had nothing to lose, or who had lost nearly everything one possibly could. They set up base on a distant planet that had only recently been discovered at the time of the Imperial attack, and which had been kept a secret by the military. Within months, all the ground-breaking experimental research which the Asfaltum military had ever conducted, on weaponry, robotics, bio-medicine, nanotechnology, energy-harnessing, and everything in between, was being utilized in the construction of a new military force, a small but fearsome power that would never again subdue itself to tyranny. Over a short period of time, advanced military installations and shipyards rose from the ground, sprung from nothing. Soon enough, 300 powerfull ships stood ready, a small fleet which was commonly referred to as "The Rogue Legion".

These men and women stood under the leadership of one commander. A man by the name of Bruce Payne, a legend of sorts, commonly reffered to as "The Ghost". Nobody knew much about his past except that he had been on friendly terms with the royal family, and had lost everything dear to him during the Imperial attack. Even though advanced biotech research had granted a certain degree of "psi-powers" and greatly enhanced physical capabilities to the men and women who served in the "Rogue Legion", it was rumoured that the mysterious commander-in-chief possessed (or was possessed by) even greater powers of unfathomable magnitude, which he in some unexplainable way had aquired during, or after, the Imperial attack. Some said it was a gift granted to him, other rumours said it was a curse, which drove him to ever more hazardous stunts in his search for vengeance. No one knew for sure. The only obvious fact, was that wherever he showed up, evil individuals had a tendency of dying in the most tormented ways...

Currently, commander B. Payne sat in the captain's seat of the RDS Confuser, an ancient support cruiser which had been refitted in order to serve as a "conference ship" of sorts, a ship aboard which diplomacy could be discussed without interference (the ship's heavy weaponry would insure the latter). He wasn't quite used to the lavishly decorated interior of the ship, accustomed as he was to the spartan and functional design of the battleships he usually commanded. Nonetheless, he was about to be guested by several foreign officials, and a little display of wealth was undoubtedly something most cultures appreciated, no matter how much he personally objected. These visits were after all something he had been looking forward to; although the nation of Asfaltum had left the galaxy, the Rogue Legion still had several inofficial contacts within numerous nations, and it was through these that he had managed to spread out invites to a large number of realms, all of which disliked the Galactic Empire's expansion plans.

His offer was simple; let the Rogue Legion set up surveillance stations within your territory, so that we will be notified in the case of any Imperial agression. Thus you will gain the strength of 300 additional powerful warships to aid in the defence of your territory against the Empire (or anyone else that seeks to harm your civilians). In return, we ask that you aid us in any eventual attempt to capture, or kill, key officials within the Empire. It was a straightforward offer, and so the commander of the Rogue Legion now waited, at the specified location for the meeting (an asteroid belt belonging to an uninhabited backwater system) to see if anyone would show up for further discussions. The meeting would officially commence in one hour, so soon enough people should start dropping in, he thought to himself, as he sipped on his cappuccino...

OOC: Thread is open to anyone who has unresolved issues with the Empire, or who just wants some extra security. I unfortunately don't have internet access on weekends, so I'll post again on Monday, hoping that there will be responses until then. Feel free to post some background information about your country, who you are sending to the meeting, why you have decided to send an envoy etc etc...

[The American Privateer]

The diplomatic cruiser APNS John Adams arrived in the system, loaded down with diplomatic personnel from both the Republic, and their allies in The Longinean Order.

They where concerned about the ongoing conflict with the Hive that they where waging, but there was only so much they could do, and findign allies was one of them.

The ship moved toward the location of the meeting, TAP'ian flags flying proud.

OOC: Diplomatic Team consists of
Colonel Simon Long, TAP Air Force (M, Human)
James Longstreet, Ambassador (M, Human)
Sana Elegos, Ambassador (F, Camassi)
Rohm, Patterner (M, Human-Patterner)
Cardinal-Colonel Meredith Jaques St. Croix, Ambassador and Knight of the Order (M, Human)
12 Man Noghri Honor Guard

[Orthodox Gnosticism]

(OOC: Welcome back Asfaltum)

[Godular]

It was certainly a circuitous path taken for envoys to contact the Godulans with this particular offer, though contact they did, via a remarkably direct path once a suitable Avatar was informed. Once notification came, the arrangement was mulled over for a veritable eternity, as many seconds passed while everyone in the entire Godulan side of the Overlink put forward their own recommendations and noted misgivings and randomized other forms of bureaucratic hullaballoo that might have taken months if it were decided in a similar manner via conventional means.

As such, the envoy recieved in response to his offer a thoughtful glance and a shrug. Had the agent actually been fully aware of how much had gone on during that thoughtful glance, he would have truly appreciated the shrug. The Avatar then made assurances that a delegation would attend the 'meeting' without delay.

And without delay it was. A single vessel appeared some distance away from the coordinates indicated to be the site of the meeting. Not much larger than a freighter, the ship was nonetheless significantly more intimidating as a result of the fact that it was a big free-floating mass of forward-pointing obsidian blades arrayed around what appeared to be a pillar of solid greenish light.

A single voice rose up on all frequencies to greet those already present:

We represent the Godulan Legion, the Godulan Strain of the Kython Scourge. Our presence has been requested and thus have we come. Please provide entrance protocols so that we might be able to get this meeting underway.

[Phenixica]

Devenis had for a long time been the jewel of the Phenixican Empire, strict pollution control and recycling had left the planet in pristine condition. But the Empire on the other hand was a different place then it was during the reign of Emperor Belcameron II.

A general distrust for all foreigners was over the heads of every citizen, nobody could be trusted because they could hurt the security of the Empire. Religions like Sith and Jedi were spit on for the trouble they caused during the cold-war and the people wanted revenge.

It had taken the death of a monarch, a economic recession and a string of Isolationist policies to make the Empire boil in it's own loathing. The news of a old ally was great news indeed and the Imperial Court and its Empress were quick to reply.

It was in the city of Phenixica, with it's blood red sky where Empress Nadine sent a message.

On behalf of a alliance our people shared we wish to join this meeting, we have much to talk about and sadly my father cannot join you since he died about a year ago at the hands of illness.

The Empire and it's citizens thank you for this opportunity.

Yours Sincerely,

Empress Nadine Cook of the Phenixican Empire

40 minutes later a huge blue portal opened in the system where the meeting was taking place, out of it a Hercules Class warship and several fights came out the other side.

It hails the station.

"This is the IPN: Genesis III, we wish permission to send our diplomat to the meeting in order to represent the interests of the Empire"

The Diplomat was a man named John Krusi, cousin of Perius Krusi and was head of the Imperial Senate for 35 years before he had to step down because age was finally getting best of the 97 year old man.

He was a trusted friend of the old Emperor and mentor to the Empress, he was Grand Senator during the crisis that lead to such a sad state of affairs.

[Asfaltum]

Bruce had been observing recent developments from his command-chair on the bridge. He slowly stood up, nodded a you're-in-charge nod to the captain, and started walking to the conference room. A few seconds later the Confuser started broadcasting a non-incrypted message to all ships in sector. The observers would see Captain Archibald de Spada, a tanned, middle-length, black haired young man, with a latin accent, who in other times (if supplied with a black mask, cape, and horse) could easily have passed as a known hero of the people. As it was, he wore the usual uniform used by the Rogue Legion, consisting of a leather-like material in black and dark green, with various golden ornaments and other stylisations, somewhat resembling a mix between armor and superhero suit. He stood in front of his command-chair and adressed viewers in his charming, utterly calm, latin accent...

Greetings!
I am Archibald de Spada, Captain of the RDS Confuser. I am most honoured to welcome you aboard my ship to meet with our commander, Bruce Payne, who I believe you have already heard of. We will deploy several droid-craft, whom your various pilots are advised to follow. You will be led to an appropriate landing bay, where you will be recieved with full honours, after which you will be led to the conference room where our commander-in-chief awaits your arrival with much anticipation. I might add that your shuttle-crafts will be thoroughly scanned upon approach, which, as you can imagine in these turbulent times, is standard procedure. Thank you, and welcome aboard.

Just as he had said, three small droid-craft, their blue exhaust ports burning brightly in the darkness of space, where deployed to meet with the diplomatic craft from each ship, and slowly lead them towards the various landing bays which had been prepared for their arrival. Upon approach, they would be rigorously scanned. Upon landing, they would be recieved by three officials wearing the priviously described standard uniform type, who would welcome them aboard, and lead them through the ranks of idleAS-guard soldiers, down a few corridors, up an elevator, and into the conference room. (In the case of the officials from the APNS John Adams, the 12 man honour guard would have to wait in the landing bay, unconditionally.)

The conference room was huge, "enormous" might be a better description. (It was in fact, an ex-landing bay, refitted.) The decoration consisted of gold, and a profuse amount of plant life (the ceiling wasn't visible, due to all the greenery), wherever the eye looked, along with several miniature waterfalls. In the middle of the huge room, was a round conference table, also in gold. Bruce Payne sat in one of the seats. In stark contrast to the room, he was wearing what seemed to be ordinary looking leather clothes. No uniform, no decorations, just ordinary "working clothes" as he liked to put it. He motioned the foreign officials to step forward with what he hoped was a calm and graceful smile. He stood and shook hand with all of them, invited them to sit, and asked them if there was any particular type of beverge they liked. Alcohol? Fruit juice? Water? No? Candy? he finally offered, munching apologetically on a few jelly-beans which had previously filled the wine-glass next to him. Finally a silent smile (if not awkward smile, he was so not used to this whole diplomacy thing) directed at no one in particular made them understand that they were free to unleash their enviably well-rehearsed rethorical skills...

[Phenixica]

John sits down in the transport as it follows the droid-craft, as he sits down he takes a deep breath and puts a hand through his grey hair. He did miss his Cousin and Belcameron, he remembers his first assignment as a Diplomat to the nation of Mationbud how much things have changed.

As always he had neat, short and parted on the side hair with the typical Pale skin of every Phenixican. He walks with a cane now the weakness of age was starting to take it's toll, he was 97 and not really in the shape for politics but this was a different matter.

By the time he reached the conference room the pain in his legs was getting bad. He looks over to Bruce and smiles, he nods his head and he makes his way to a seat. He sits down with relief as his legs recover, he knew this would be the last diplomatic trip he would ever take.

"I am the representative from the Phenixican Empire, John Krusi ex-Grand Senator of the Imperial Senate"

[Godular]

The small bladed craft, being the diplomatic vessel deployed on behalf of the Godulan Legion, shifted to meet the droid escort ship in a manner that could almost be characterized as 'daintily'. Blades merged and split as the ship reoriented itself casually to follow the droid vessel back to the massive station, and the central pillar of light flared momentarily, but showed no other signs of activity. As it moved forward, it left neither exhaust nor ion trail in its wake, nor did it present any form of thermal signature indicative of propulsion. Sensors would rather easily detect the gravitic signature placed in front of the vessel, however, and the question as to how the damn thing was moving at all would be plain to see.

As the vessel approached the station, scanners attempting to delve into the vessel would find a mystery wrapped inside of a conundrum and glazed with enigma-flavored frosting. The vessel itself by the very virtue of its shape revealed an absolute inability to host any form of life-form within its confines. It did not provide any clue as to what systems might be contained within as for all intents and purposes there were no systems to scan. Electromagnetic scanning would reveal a power signature of disconcerting strength, given the small size of the vessel. Indeed, the fact that it would present a power signature of rough equivalence to a Victory class Star Destroyer might seem odd. At the same time, however, no overt weapons emplacements were recognized, nor did it seem like the vessel had any specifically dedicated power expenditures. As for interior scans themselves, one might say the ship 'confused' scanners.

After all, when one glance presents the image of a strange freighter, another might show scans of some form of plantlike construct, a chunk of rock, or in one odd case... a teddy bear.

If one were to properly recognize why the one in five million chance of receiving a sensor scan result resembling a stuffed animal, that person might better understand the mechanics of the universe as a whole. Or go insane, it really depends on whether the poor sod actually knows hyperdimensional quantum mechanics. Its a toughie, it really is.

The ship eventually came to a landing within an enormous docking bay, and for a moment soldiers milled about, curious as to where the boarding ramp might appear. A ship such as this made things a tad confusing for people expecting some sort of conventional entrance. However, since the Godulans did not truly mind pomp and circumstance save in when such went into notable excess, the materialization of the Godulan in their midst (accompanied by a startled yelp) was accompanied with little more than a shrug from the newly arrived Avatar.

He stood approximately six feet tall and had a body of such perfect musculature and build that one had trouble discerning whether the Godulan was an organic being or some sort of sculpted figurine. His long black hair waved oddly in the distinctly nonexistent breeze, and green eyes stared through the soldiers and bored holes through their souls like some form of high power mining laser. Though there was no malice in his 'stare', his gaze was nonetheless unnaturally intense... and for some reason, every single soldier in the room had the feeling of being watched in equal measure. He wore clothing that accentuated his torso musculature, employing a somewhat middle-eastern flair in his well-embroidered vest and baggy trousers. His feet were bare, though that was hardly as notable as the fact that he hovered a foot off the ground. When he spoke, his mouth did not move. The air around him shimmered slightly as his entire body vibrated to produce the necessary voice.

"We are Shin'Raxis, envoy of the Legion. We are pleased at the reception, though we would be more pleased to be taken to the conference room post-haste. There is business to attend to."

Shin'Raxis did not appear to take any notice of the size of the conference room upon his arrival, nor did he stop to sit at a chair. He simply hovered in the air in full view of everyone else in the room and repeated a phrase from the earlier communication:

"Our presence has been requested and thus have we come. There is business to attend to, and what business we believe it to be."

[Phenixica]

John could not help but raise a eyebrow at the new arrival, his attire and appearance did not in any way suit a diplomat. His sentence made him laugh on the inside, who ever this was he had a ego. In a simple sentence he had shown weakness in his diplomacy skills which in such a situation could prove fatal.

Phenixican politics was honest and to the point, diplomatic matters were always considered a nuisance that did help make the nation more influential but yet again just plain got in the way of plans.

[The American Privateer]

The Diplomatic Team made their way into a Shuttle in the Ship's Hangar. It was painted in the colors of Air Force One, with the words United States of America being replaced with The American Privateer.

As the shuttle landed, the Honor Guard leaned back, ready to spend hours in simulated wargames via the SoulNet (All TAP'ians have wireless internet links built into their brains that connect them to an Alternate Universe where their Souls and Minds are able to roam free of the Body) , as the Diplomatic Team made their way to the Conference Room.

The Diplomatic team accepted waters, on orders to avoid intoxication on the mission, and looked around at the others who had arrived.

Colonel Long and the Ambassador James groaned as the Godulans arrived. Where ever they where, things tended to get a little weird. The other group, they where unfamiliar with, and a quick flurry of whispers led the team to conclude that the Phenixians where some one they had not met before their Isolation.

Letting the others speak first, the Colonel sat back, linking up to the SoulNet, and running the same War Game his Honor Guard was playing with a small portion of his mind, a ghost of a smile cross his face as one of the grunts protested that it wasn't fair that the Colonel participate, and his fellow soldiers shushed him down and apologized.

Sana gave a short introduction of herself and the delegation, her Caamasi robes shimmering in the verdant light. She motioned to the man in the blue dress Uniform, introducing Colonel Simon Long first. Then she motioned to the rather fit looking man in a standard State Department suit (black slacks and coat over lace up vest with high-collar), and introduced the chief ambassador of the mission, James Longstreet. "Named after the Confederate General, of whom I am a descendant," he announced proudly, to a well practiced sigh and scoff from the Colonel seated to his right. Then she pointed to the man on her left. He didn't look like a normal human, and even though scans of all attendents had revealed the heavy cybernetics that where inherent in TAP'ian citizens, his was obvious. His eyes where slightly glazed over, and his recognition seemed to come from far away, for Rohm was a Patterner, and he had been activated for the mission, his ability to see patterns being a potential benefit. Then, last but not least, she introduced the man in the Cardinal's Robes, Colonel Meredith Jaques St. Croix, Ambassador and Knight of the Holy Order of Saint Longinus.

Then, she sat down, and let James take over. He was the senior diplomat on the mission after all. As he did, Sana became entranced by the flora in the room, wondering if there where any fauna in among it...

[Asfaltum]

The Godulan envoy had undoubtedly received a much less enthusiastic reception than he was used to. While human soldiers, with a not so extensive training as that of the Rogue Legion, might have gathered around the foreign craft in admiration and curiosity, the AS-guard ranks reacted with what could best be described as total indifference at the sudden apparition of the Godulan newcomer. They stood at attention, face forward, eyes apparently focused on the opposite wall, but although their immobile faces betrayed no emotion, the Godulan could undoubtedly sense that his every move was being observed, weighed on scales of immaculate calculation, and meticulously catalogized for future analysis, by every single artificial soldier present.

The group of human officials who had been sent to welcome the diplomat were more annoyed than awed. You'd expect such an advanced life-form to at least have the diplomatic insight to understand that hovering over the ground and speaking without moving one's lips was not accentuating the likenesses between different races (something usually appreciated during first-time diplomatic contacts), and might make "regular" humans a tad uneasy. Unless of course that was the intended effect. Nonetheless, once a thorough glance at the surroundings did not reveal any traces of flying carpets or discarded oil lamps, the officials gave the Godulan a sly smile, and started hovering above the floor as well, greeting him telepathically. After all, what's the use of a total mutational make-over, if you can't use your newly aquired skills when needed. Wether this was an attempt at finding "common ground" between different races, or just a polite way of flipping him off, the Godulan would have to figure out for himself...
_________________________

Presently, Bruce Payne nodded at his guests. "Well, I presume we better get down to business. I think some of you already know what has befallen my nation during past years, how we were attacked by the so-called Galactic Empire, and, when forced to surrender due to being heavily outnumbered, our planet was nuked by one of the very allies who had done little to aid us. Sure, Emperor Palpatine died on our planet, but that is of little value, in comparison to the suffering which innocent civilians were put through..." His thoughts trailed off, as he remembered his wife and son, how beautiful they had looked as they ran around the garden playing hide and seek, how the child would come into the kitchen and marvel at how mom and dad prepared dinner, and how scared they must have been in the cramped shelter, before being incinerated by a cylon bomb. He forced himself to forget, for the moment.

"The men and women who serve in the Rogue Legion have nothing to lose, or have already lost everything. We are the few citizens of Asfaltum who have not fled the galaxy, and we dedicate our life to prevent similar tragedies from happening. we look for funding, and/or military aid, to be put at our disposal, in order to simplify our task. In return, we will do our best to protect your civilians, and bring vengeance upon those who threaten them. We are not mercenaries. We will not fight your wars for you. We cannot be bought. We will only act against aggressors who have shown themselves as retaining no regard for civilians, or who have made threats to that effect. We will only attack objectives of military importance, and ideally we seek to target the enemy leadership, in order to shorten the conflict, and thus the suffering of both civilians and soldiers." Bruce looked at his guests intently before adding "Any questions?".

[The American Privateer]

"Well," said James, uneasy at the thought of the genocide that had been committed, "I have been authorized to open up Republic Space for your people. You will be able to claim a Moon as your own, unless you wish to have a planet of your own, in which case we can donate a Titan class vessel for use. This includes Shipyards for your vessels, and much of the Logistics Technology of our people. On top of that, many of your leaders would be given Diplomatic Immunity, and all members of the Rogue Legion would be offered Dual Citizenship."

James looked around, getting nods from his fellow members, "And, we would equip you to be able to fight Hive in case a new invasion comes through."

[Asfaltum]

"Well," said James, uneasy at the thought of the genocide that had been committed, "I have been authorized to open up Republic Space for your people. You will be able to claim a Moon as your own, unless you wish to have a planet of your own, in which case we can donate a Titan class vessel for use. This includes Shipyards for your vessels, and much of the Logistics Technology of our people. On top of that, many of your leaders would be given Diplomatic Immunity, and all members of the Rogue Legion would be offered Dual Citizenship."

James looked around, getting nods from his fellow members, "And, we would equip you to be able to fight Hive in case a new invasion comes through."

Bruce nodded thoughtfully. "I think that is an offer we can accept. Although we are not looking to aquire further territory (we have systems of our own), a base of operations within your territory would be beneficial... the moon you mentioned would do fine I believe, I'm sure it could function as an "embassy" of sorts, as well as being a link in our intelligence network. Shipyards, we can build ourselves; our advanced nanotech division could have several shipyards and defensive installations up and running within weeks, if not days. Diplomatic immunity, and dual citizenship, are matters which I personally am not entirely comfortable with, although I realize that in this age of beaurocracy they might come in handy... I'll talk to my people and see how they feel about that..." Bruce paused for a moment, then added "This "Hive" that you talk about, please give me some background history on them... where do they come from, what is their objective...?"

OOC: If James takes a while to find a datapad with information on the Hive, I'm sure the diplomats from Godular and Phenixica could state their position on the proposition in the meanwhile...

[Phenixica]

John was quick to offer what assistance Phenixican could mention.

"On behalf of the past Emperor our nation is sorry we could do little to help, we were under threat of invasion and because our military is not boasted by things like Clones and devices of doom we could not spare any troops. We can offer a 'Warp-Gate buoy' which when activated will allow for a warp-gate to lock onto your position in a matter of minutes. When this is activated we can send a fleet of a few hundred ships through and assist you in a emergency"

The past Emperor was sorry for not coming to help his allies in the LoFW during the war but as mentioned Phenixica was in deep trouble.

"Also medicine and supplies can be offered, which yet again can be sent by the Buoy technology. I know the others have mentioned a moon, but we have a whole sector of our galaxy that is under populated. I also have a Political Officer who can stay behind to help out in whatever efforts and ordering what resources you need, The Empire is going through a economic surge at the moment so we can more then afford to give aid. Our relations with the Galactic Empire are uneasy at best, Sith and Jedi are dirty words in our nation and nothing would make our empress more happy then to finally rid the world of those Force-Using scum"

The hive was unknown to the Empire so no point in bringing it up, might as well wait for it to be explained.

[The American Privateer]

OOC: He has one available, but he will wait for the others.

IC:
Sana looked incensed at the comments about Force Users as scum, bu it was Colonel Long who seemed truly angered, his pictor torque flashing an image of Auschwitz touched in crimson as he remembered an old poem written about the holocaust.

"Are they not sapients? Do they not have rights as thinking beings?"