Looking back, they called those turbulent times simply: The Troubles. A period of chaotic upheaval and destruction that sent the Republic reeling through successive crises, each growing more desperate as the galaxy spun out of control.
Exactly when The Troubles started… that was open to interpretation. After the Savage Wars were thought to have ended, said some. Others claimed that period of death and war began with the Republic’s action on Psydon. Still others pointed to the Republic’s forced migration of the zhee, or even the arrival of the Mid-Core Rebellion, culminating in victories against the Legion at Kublar and the genocidal atrocities extending as far as Rhysis Whan.
But no matter when they began, the galaxy-shaking events of the The Troubles were well remembered by those who suffered through them, and the scars of those upheavals would leave their indelible mark for years, and perhaps lifetimes, to come.
The brazen and open government corruption infesting the former capital planet of Utopion.
The arrival of the tyrant Goth Sullus, who briefly united opposition to the Republic before falling prey to the vanity of the title… The Emperor.
The Legion invoking Article Nineteen of the Republic Constitution, bringing an all-consuming flame to a simmering cold war that had long been stewing between the rulers and those forced to fight their needless wars.
The sudden unexpected attack by an alien race known as the Cybar. Relentless. Cruel. Inhuman in the extreme.
And finally, the long-planned return of a tribe of lost Savages, led by their messiah… the Golden King.
The Troubles. A quaint name for a horrific period in the galaxy’s history. A period whose atrocities were superseded only by the terror of the Savage Wars that had come before. Almost no corner of the galaxy was spared a taste of terrible war, cutthroat intrigue… and remorseless death.
In the aftermath, this battered galaxy now longs for peace and stability. The Republic, now reformed, seeks to govern by rule of law. But no matter how sincere the reform, how earnest and well-meaning the ruler, some worlds refuse to place their destiny in the hands of others. Ever again.
Been there. Done that. Got burned along the way.
Because some things never change. Power summons would-be tyrants eager to seize it. Ancient vendettas cry out to be settled. Corruption worms its way through the souls of men too weak to resist it, or too wicked to try. And dead-eyed killers gather in all the usual star ports, awaiting the opportunity to do what they do best for the promise of a quick credit.
Through it all, the silent Legion waits for its cue to once more tread upon the stage and break their enemies through nothing more, and nothing less, than total violence of action capably applied. As though this time… things will be different.
Out on the edge, they say… Everyone’s got a plan, until the Legion shows up.