Gallia is a military juggernaut the likes of which have not graced human space since the ancient days of the Sol Alliance - and traces it linage back to those ancient, pre-colony days. As a pilot in the Royal Navy you are the cutting edge of the Gallic war machine, out to conquer the treacherous sirian colonies and set right an ancient wrong for the glory of the Crown and its loyal populace. A fleet of dreadnoughts, each capable of shattering a sirian warship like glass, stand at your back, fighters beyond counting ready to leap upon your enemies. You are the will of the King made manifest. The wayward colonies will bow to Him, or they will be ground to dust beneath might of the Royal Navy.

But, for all that power, there are those foolish enough to stand against you. The houses of Bretonia and Liberty, the short-sighted traitors of the Council, and a dozen other foes stand ready to resist the expansion of the Crown. You have the full technological and military strength of the Gallic territories at your disposal - and you will need every iota of it to bring the stolen colonies of Sirius to heel.

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The Gallic military are, fundamentally, the antagonists of the Discovery setting. They are the conquerors, the war-mongers, the army that blots out the horizon with their arrival. That does not; however, mean that they are evil. The Royal Navy is a proud, honourable institution with a tradition of service and loyalty to the Crown stretching back centuries, transcending the petty divides between the Gallic nobility. Individual pilots are as variable as those in any other house military, ranging from the son of a noble family serving comfortably on the bridge of a homeland defence cruiser, systems from the front line, his position and safety secure by dent of his family's political clout - to the grizzled Foreign Legion mercenary, born on Leeds and turning on his former countrymen for the promise of cash and a better life in the new Gallic colonies. The Royal Navy really is an ID with a tremendous range of options for characters willing to dabble in a little politics to improve their standing - or just with a score to settle against Sirius at large. You won't find many friends outside of the Gallic territories, but within Crown space your authority is absolute - just watch out for those pesky Council attacks.

Don't be fooled by what you see on the Neural Net. Ageira doesn't own the trade lanes in Liberty. You do. Well, you and that gang of rascals squatting a couple of clicks starwise, hyenas bearing a migraine of different emblems and crests, splattered across hull plating that looks like it was welded together by someone who may have once seen a starship on the neural net, waiting hungrily for their share of the pickings - or failing that, a share of the price on your ship once they drop your corpse in vacuum and kick it into the Badlands. Ain't nothing personal. Just the way things work in the Rogues, you do your part or you get out - immediately, no room for loose fat. You rake a hand across the controls of your own hulk of a ship, thrusters flaring to life beneath your touch - a miracle of scrapyard engineering - sensors probing the lanes for your next meal.

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The Rogues are the largest gang of thieves, madmen and bandits in Liberty - or perhaps they're misunderstood outcasts, struggling against the oppression of Liberty's megacorporations the only way they can. It's all a matter of what side of that thin blue line you're standing on - and which way that dreadnought's main battery is pointing. While the rogues might be the biggest pirate band in Liberty, they're far from united - with various gangs and groups dotting the lanes like fleas on a dog. It's not unheard of for such gangs to crack down hard on anyone intruding on their turf - other rogues and outcasts alike, though the larger bands are quick to bat down any individual that threatens to dent their profits or security - and security is hard enough to come by. Rogues spend their lives looking over their shoulders, for the crackle of an arrest order over the comms, for the glare of a Naval patrol's weapons, for the far closer knife of an ally eager to enlarge his share. Most Rogues lives are dangerous, bloody and, inevitably, short. However; for those ruthless, determined, or lucky enough to survive, Liberty's underworld offers the potential for vast profit.