In Time [FWC Dominion of Onderon]

[Laira Darkhold]

The Free World's Coalition was sending representatives to meet with the aristocracy of Onderon, promising to assist the planet in the wake of the collapse of the Mando'ade, bringing with them economic stability and protection. However, Laira had wanted no part in attending a gala in a frilly dress, wearing a fake smile, and having to act interested to meet every rich person that lived on the planet. Instead, the Princess of Alderaan offered to lead an investigation on the planet's primary moon.

Rumors of cultists meeting in the jungles and making sacrifices, both animal and sentient, had arisen. Currently no hard evidence had been uncovered but with the moon's long history, it was not unfeasible. Several prominent Sith Lords had perished in relation to the moon and nearby planet, and their corrupting influence may have continued on to some degree. The Rangers provided a scant handful of investigators to accompany anyone wishing to look into the situation, but her most curious companion was Regent Varon Girard, a nobleman from Alderaan that had begun assisting her mother in the day to day politics on Alderaan. The elderly man wore reddish armor bearing with lion iconography on his chest and shoulders, a red cloak hung over one shoulder and bound at his waist by a belt, his sword and pistol sheathed on his left side. While the older man did have some military experience with the Republic in ages past, fighting during the One Sith's conquest of the planet, he was well past his prime and had since only been seen as a negotiator and mentor to some.

"We will be landing soon, there may already be people on the ground moving into the woods." Laira wasn't sure who all was interested in what could easily turn into a wild goose chase, and without anyone clearly their enemy guns blazing wasn't a good option. Intelligence didn't even know if the cult existed, much less what or where they were performing their supposed sacrifices. "I suppose we will look for signs of beings leaving the roads and see if we can follow their tracks back to where they are hiding. Use lifeform scans to make sure we aren't following one guy and his donkey."

"That sounds fine to me your highness." Regent Girard said calmly, still standing up throughout the descent. His presence confused Laira some. While her mother trusted the man to an extent, Laira couldn't wrap her head around why he thought he would be useful accompanying her through the woods.

The shuttle landed smoothly, blowing up dust as its landing gear gently pressed against the ground. Hissing escaped the vessel as its pressure shifted to match that of the moon and the doors opened.

Spoiler

Iziz Royal Gala
Aristocrats from Onderon have begun a local renaissance, with members of the ancient Royal Family and their various supporters attempting to reestablish themselves as the ruling caste of the planet. While there are several claimants to the Throne, none have been confirmed or coronated. The majority of the population has thrown support to self-proclaimed Prince Aldric Dendup, though he has only token support from the upper class who support a diverse number of claimants. The Free Worlds intends on meeting with the Claimants at the Royal Gala where an heir will be determined and mediating a smooth transition of power in the wake of the Mando'ade collapse.

Write your own take on the story, collaborate with the other writers interested in the scenario. Sky's the limit, political intrigue, backstabbing, etc are all good parts of a story if you want to write them.

Dxun Cultists Investigation
A mysterious group of Sith Cultists are rumored to be gathering on the nearby moon of Dxun, causing some corruption in the local fauna. It is largely unknown what it is they desire, but there has been scant hearsay that they intend on resurrecting a fallen Sith Lord to lead them, and the people of Onderon back into a golden age.

Sith in the Woods doing bad things. Write any aspect of the story you please, NPC baddies are a plenty. I'll be updating this Weekend Treasure Hunt style, but won't be controlling anything directly.

Bring Your Own Story

 

[Glory]

[member="Laira Vereen"]


Dxun was a world of shattered and broken lives. For thousands of years it had been the graveyard of an untold number of people. Blood mixed with an absurd amount of mud and the taint of the Dark Side. As the Firemane dropship came in to land, the occupants could still see the scars of ancient battles. A canyon here, a series of craters caused by a bombs or artillery shells there, all the work of long lost souls. Glory was no space wizard, but she was not blind to the dangers this moon posed.


Welcome to Firemane. Go to hellholes, meet bad guys and blow them up. As she gazed out of the window, she finished sealing herself in her suit of armour. Once the process was completed, her HUD came to life, displaying her team as small blots. A Firemane sergeant moved around and double checked the enlisted, making sure they were ready, while she checked her own gear.


"Check your weapons, we drop in thirty seconds. This moon is crawling with nasties. Stay sharp and watch your back. No stupid heroics," she spoke over the squad channel. The Captain received affirmatives in response, with her HUD showing the status of the squad. One last weapons check, then the shuttle touched down upon the ground, blowing up columns of dust as it finally reached the surface.


The hatch opened and the troopers fanned out, securing their LZ with the professionalism one could expect from trained soldiers. Glory moved out alongside them, rifle at the ready. She'd been instructed to cooperate with the team the Alderaanian monarchy had dispatched to investigate the moon. Firemane was keen on building relations with the Coalition. Politics as usual. Glory hoped that these Alderaanians were not the pacifist type.

 

[H3xle]

Location: Abandoned Republic Base, Dxun Jungle
Objective: Refurbish and Move In

Tek took a long draw on his cigar, the cherry burning red in the darkness as he stepped down the ramp from The Tendency. The hangar they were in was dark, and would be until they could get some power lines run covertly. The only light shining out was the running lights from his ship, and they alighted on bays with some fighters in various states of disrepair, and an old tramp freighter gathering dust near the entrance. Engineers moved about, checking the status of internal power runs inside, while others moved about just outside the concealed entrance to check on the shielding that had allowed the Republic to keep this base hidden from conventional sensors.

Tek exhaled slowly through his nose, the dance of the nicotine in his blood a mere background noise to his thoughts as he looked at where he would start his domain. At its height, the Republic had spanned a large swath of the galaxy. In that time, it had seeded bases, both conventional and obfuscated, to help cement it's power. It hadn't helped, and now many of the bases were used by other factions, turned into shadowports, or so hidden inside GRIM files that no one had found them yet.

"Sir, we've received reports that the Coalition has shown up in the system. It points to a diplomatic mission, but..." The Captain of The Tendency reported as he moved up. He didn't wear any uniform, but his clothing was as well kept as if it were one. You could take the man out of the military, but rarely could you take the military out of the man.

"But if the Coalition is here, then Onderon will likely join them soon. Their diplomacy is as lethal to a systems independence as the Empire's weapons..." Tek's slightly accented voice came out. He took another, shorter pull on his cigar as he thought, then let the smoke out slowly, rolling it over his tongue. "Thank you, Captain Roberts, it shouldn't concern us overmuch just now, but keep our ears perked for anything that starts coming our way."

"Yes, Sir." Wesley Roberts, late of the Republic Navy, gave a nod as if it were a salute, then turned and mounted the ramp into the ship once more. Tek turned to a nearby engineer who was conferencing in with a pair of juniors.

"Damocles, we need to wrap up the surface scans as quickly as possible, I don't want to have the base hidden, but given away by our engineers and their scanning equipment." He walked over, raising his voice only enough to ensure he was heard. The engineer turned and nodded.

"Got it, I'll call them in now."

Efficiency, Tek loved being able to give a simple command and know it would be followed. He smiled to himself softly as he moved slowly around the expansive hangar. The levels below remained unexplored, for the moment, but even if they didn't have anything to add, a hidden base of operations was more than enough to justify the expense to his operations.

 

[Claire Organa]

Onderon full of jungle and urban development. It had shades of Alderaan but then Claire could find shades of Alderaan anywhere she chose to. Emissary to the Royal Court of Onderon to meet with the royal family and express the concerns and wishes from the Royal Family of Alderaan.

Emissary.

Ambassador.

Go between.

And a few lack luster titles filled Claire's head. She looked over at her detail and smiled they were a few short and for some reason she felt as if she were missing something. Was it the familiar faces that she had grown accustomed to? She didn't know. She had not considered all of it till she stopped thinking about what lay ahead.

Claire was to express the mission of the Coalition and see if she could convince them to join. There was also the mission of finding a present she wanted to go to the Malgan Market in Iziz. She hoped there would be time either before or after the meeting. So far they were going to arrive four hours ahead of time she would have time to shop and sneak in a few treats.

The crew around her were quiet as they remembered the last mission they were on, and what had happened. They were not all on alert for anything.

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Laira stalked off of the little shuttle, the two other Rangers already spreading out and checking hand-held sensors for motion and life signs. Laira was simplistic, wearing her standard trousers and button-up shirt with a blast vest over it. Underneath her clothing she wore her infiltrator thinsuit, a nice comfortable thinsuit that left no lines and molded to her shape snuggly. Behind her, the Regent Girard followed in much older more traditional knight's armor.

"Firemane landed. We'll link up with them and check some of the smaller more out of the way game trails for a large number of human tracks." Hopefully they wouldn't be out in the woods for longer than a day or so. There was only so much 'roughing it' that Laira could tolerate before it became a burden on the princess. She didn't mind spending a day or two in the jungles away from her shower, but if she could help it not any longer than that. "Firemane seems to be a little more prepared for combat than us."

Regent Girard shrugged his shoulders, "We are not so helpless my dear." His demeanor was calm, and despite his advanced age the elder carried himself well in the heavy armor plates, his shoulders still sharp and his chin stuck upwards proudly. "I'm sure together we can handle whatever it is we find for the Onderonians." The Regent stepped forward, taking the lead suddenly and moving towards the Firemane continegent confidently, not really bothering to watch his step or make his way carefully around anything.

The Rangers stood and followed him, Laira bringing up the rear with a smirk on her face. If the old man wanted to go first and be the one who got shot first she wouldn't object. Better him than her. The redhead called over to the Firemane squad, "Which one of yall is in charge?" She batted her eyelashes, "We might want to get together, discuss a plan of action and an after party."

[member="Glory"]

 

[Claire Organa]

The Alderaani vessel landed without incident on Onderon. There was a gala to be held tonight to re-establish the monarchy long had there been no one to claim the title not since the assassination of the King and the Republic Representative whose name slipped Claire's mind was named to succeed him.

A gala meant rubbing elbows with anyone who wanted to be seen and remembered by the dignitaries and families represented at the ball. She had heard that there might be some Hapans coming tonight. She was not sure but there was that possibility. She would be on the look out for them. A dress of her own design she would be wearing tonight. She wanted to wear something elegant and use the Alderaani blue that she loved.

She would know once she entered the gala if she had succeeded or failed taking a deep breath she entered wearing the gown they announced her as, "The Countess Claire Organa of Alderaan" Claire nodded and began her entrance she felt naked without someone to take her arm and help her descend into the room but what she saw were the women some were nudging the others with them to look, men turned held her gaze and turned away. All Claire could do was smile but she knew the dress had gathered attention.

As she left the last step a few woman approached and immediately began talking to her about the color, how wonderful! Claire was in her element.

[member="Tek Sidereal"]

 

[Glory]

[member="Laira Vereen"]


Firemane soldiers spread out to secure the landing zone in the jungle. Hand-held sensor devices helped check for movement and life signs. Still, they were heavily armed. One could not be too careful on this cursed moon. Besides, Firemane abided by the time and tested rule of 'there is no such thing as overkill, there is only open fire and reload'. A well-oiled bolter was a good tool to pacify wild beasts.


In the distance, one could hear the boom of thunder. The ground was muddy and it was raining. "No rain like this on Dahomey, ma'am. It's too quiet. You think the Alderaanians know that a Zakkeg or a Sith won't politely desist from killing just because you 'have no weapons'?" Sergeant Blade muttered. He was a fellow Dahomian. The people of Dahomey had naming customs that tended to strike outsiders as odd. They each carried a name that was a translation from their native language and described their personality well.


"If the death star didn't knock sense into them, Vongforming did. Now get the unit moving," Glory retorted. Last she'd heard, Alderaan's defences were the exact opposite of what they'd been when the Empire destroyed it. "Hazani Jai Tahir, stop daydreaming. You're on a mission, not a safari. You don't keep focused, you endanger the whole unit," she snapped, in a voice as sharp as the crack of a whip.


The target of her ire was a young acolyte from the Order of Fire. Hazani was a Qadiri, one of the natives of Tygara. She was young, inexperienced and this was her first time away from her homeworld. The young elf seemed like a deer caught in the headlight and straightened. Glory could imagine her looking deeply embarrassed, though her helmet concealed her expression. "I'm sorry, M-Mistress. It won't happen again!" the girl stammered.


"I am not a Mistress, I work for a living. You will call me ma'am or Captain, and nothing else, do you understand, Private?!" Once again, Glory questioned the teaching methods of the Fire Order. She'd never been a fanatical Kerrigan loyalist.


"Ma'am, yes, ma'am!" the bronze skinned elf said hastily.


She'd learn. There were other matters to deal with, for the Alderaanian delegation approached. Rifles were raised at the sound of approaching footsteps, then lowered once they saw who was coming. One of the newcomers was an elderly gentleman dressed in what looked like a traditional knight's armour. It reminded Glory of the archaic suit Elpsis Elaris insisted on wearing. Someone really needed to knock some sense into that girl, who seemd to have her head in the clouds all the time.


The other was a redhead was seemingly casually dressed, beyond a blast vest, as far as Glory could tell. Her attitude was terribly casual. In contrast to her, the Firemane officer was all business. "Let's focus on the job. I'm Captain Glory, Firemane. You is in charge of the Alderaanian team?" Her eyes fell on the elderly man. She spoke Basic with a slight accent. If this were a planet in a galaxy far, far away, one would have called it South African.

 

[Lucienne Sinclair]

If she was going to ensure her reputation was not in tatters, Lucienne at least has to show herself that she is better than Relina Zhan, and prove that she is indeed someone who can be spiffing and represented in every way, as a good admiral of Hapan. She came in with a few ships near her, which were little more than two, which had her guards near her. Of course, you cannot be a proper noble with just coming by yourself. She was dressed in her beautiful tyrian purple dress, as she felt it would be excellent for the occasion. She cannot leave to a dance without her signature color. Her guards were all armoured up with the Tyrian Purple and gold get go.

Lucienne then had the platform land outward and came out. "The great noble Lucienne Sinclair has arrived to this occasion!" she said out loud to make her presence known. She flipped her hair and ordered her guards to come alongside her. Her guards were males, about six of them who came along wherever she went outside of the system. But of course, the nobility was strong within her. Onderon was a pretty ok planet, but still was quite peasant-like to her.

 

[H3xle]

Tek reclined against an old tramp freighter's front landing gear, some Corellian design. The portal in had been shut, but power had been restored via buried cables leading to several power generators over a kilometer away. One was a solar array in an old set of ruins, disguised to look as part of the rubble. One was a wind farm in a canyon not to far off, which was protected from seeing via overflight by the overhangs down the cliff ridge. The third was a geothermal power generator, buried almost straight down, that one was still undergoing maintenance. The Republic had sunk some serious money into this base, and then it was gone, the base abandoned.

Brrl Teh Brrl Teh

A commlink window opened up in his vision, and he quirked an eyebrow as he saw nothing in the sending address field. Tek stood straight and walked to the makeshift command post his people had set up, tapping a tech on duty on the shoulder.

"Call coming in, try to get a back trace on it." He ordered simply, then mentally answered the phone.

Silence reined for a few moments, Tek could hear faint breathing, but that was it.

"I trust I have reached one Tek Sidereal?" The voice on the other end wasn't familiar, though it sounded very pleased with itself.

"Who am I speaking with?" Tek replied non-committally, glancing down at the tech who was pounding away at the keyboard.

"That isn't a matter of importance. I have called with a job." The smug voice returned.

"I've got a fairly well paying job, not sure if I need this bantha poodoo..."

"Come now, Tek. My employer is willing to put considerable funds in your pocket for your efforts on their behalf, and the target is in the same gravity well as you are."

Alarms went off in Tek's mind, and his eyes narrowed. He muted himself and looked to the Tech.

"Where." He didn't ask, so much as order a location from his subordinate.

"Sir, I can't get the trace to compl..."

Tek turned away and forced himself to compose himself.

"What is the job?" He couldn't quite get the gritting of teeth out of his voice.

"Simple, there is a person by the name of [member="claire organa"] who has been a nuisance, we would like you to obtain her. Alive." The smug voice sounded all the more smug.

"Organa ain't a name to cross lightly. What's your offer?" Tek replied.

"More than enough to completely refurbish that base you are setting up in. Don't worry Tek, my employer is not your enemy, and does not reveal the secrets of others unless they cross my employer."

Tek took a deep breath and shrugged. Worse came to worst, he could ransom Organa back to the royal family. Through several layers of intermediaries, while Tek and his operations moved elsewhere to avoid the resulting wrath that would befall his messengers.

"Give me some time to get a plan together, how do I contact you?"

"We'll be in touch."

The connection died, and Tek stood there for a short time, thinking. Before long, he turned to those in the command post.

"Get me an extraction team, we have a high value target in the system, I want to know where she is, and I want plans drawn up by tomorrow morning." He ordered, then walked over to his ship to change.

This wasn't a mission to leave entirely in the hands of ones underlings. He wasn't kidding when he said that Organa wasn't a name to cross lightly, but it wasn't out of the realm of possibility that he could grab her and deliver her before the heat came down.

Only time would tell.

 

[Relina Zhan]

[member="Lucienne Sinclair"]

Relina flew her own Terminus with her Squadron in formation with her Angel Squadron with a pair of Supernova battleships and a Wyvern cruiser. The formation wasn't meant to be threatening, especially with so small a group, but this was the kind of entrance Relina was able to requisition. The official reason was a small show of what the Hapes Consortium could bring to the table, militarily. Relina, however, was to land in Iziz and meet her rival, one Lady Lucienne of House Sinclair. The Hapan warships held their position once they dropped out of Hyperspace, but the Angel Squadron continued toward the planet.

The Angel Squadron would be her escort to the occasion, all seven men and women in their Royal Navy dress blues, ribbons and medals worn and on display. Relina and her squadron would enter the gala without fanfare. Relina was never one for flaunting herself publicly. She wore her elegant rapier at her side, her hair fixed into a neat military bun under a blue beret with her rank insignia pinned on the raised part. However, a doorman would do the advertisement of her entrance for her, announcing her and her guests. She'd sigh and step forward a few paces, looking around at her surroundings as her squadmates went to mingle.

"Announcing the Ducha of Gallinore, Major Relina Zhan of the Hapes Consortium and guests."

So much for no fanfare. For a moment, everyone took notice of the group, eyes on Relina primarily. She pursed her lips and bore the unwanted attention until finally, everyone resumed their activities. Relina and her squadron left their sidearms in their fighters in a compartment under the forward console, but because Relina's sword seemed ceremonial, it was left alone by security without issue. if anything, it made her stand out more.

 

[Claire Organa]

[SIZE=14pt]Claire walked away from the women with three new appointments it was going to be a good night for certain. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14pt]She looked around and smiled a lot sometimes there wasn’t anything else to do but smile. She knew that although she had entered this room alone that her protection detail was watching from shadows.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14pt]She headed off to get a drink all of that talking had parched her throat.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14pt]She turned when she heard the names of nobles from Hapes. She knew their plight their planet had been glassed. All of Alderaan could relate to the Hapans as they tried to rebuild.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14pt]Claire hoped to approach them and speak with them about sending additional aid from the Coalition. She knew they were a proud people so she would have to be cautious in how she offered it to them.[/SIZE]

[member="Relina Zhan"] [member="Lucienne Sinclair"]

 

[Relina Zhan]

[member="Claire Organa"] [member="Tek Sidereal"] [member="Lucienne Sinclair"]

Relina headed into the crowd, spotting Lucienne, but hoping she wasn't seen. She wasn't quite feeling ready to match wits with her at the moment, but knowing the Lady Sinclair, she'd approach anyway. Relina would simply behave as normal, though, heading toward the bar, removing her beret which she laid neatly on the table, and would peruse the local selection of liquors, wines, and beer. The fancy stuff was out, it seemed.

"The lovely brandy there. What is it?" she asked, with an obvious Hapan accent.

"A brandy made from a local fruit, Ma'am. Would you care to taste it?" the waiter asked.

"Yes." Relina answered simply.

The waiter poured her a small sample, which Relina took in a shot. The liquor was sweet and pleasant to the taste, but strong as well. She'd give him a nod and added, "A full drink, please. As is."

The waiter returned her nod and poured her a small glass of the local, high-end brandy. The clear liquid filled the rounded brandy glass half-way, which Relina would gently lift and swirl before taking another taste of the stuff. As she did so, she surveilled the area, watching the many party-goers, among them dignitaries like herself, soldiers, and perhaps local gentry. The music seemed lively, although not exactly her taste. Then she spotted a rather fancy looking woman nearby her. Her beauty might well make her pass for Hapan herself, although it took one to know one. Relina offered to Claire as she took another sip.

 

[Amelia von Sorenn]

Location: In Route to Porus Vida
Objective: Reclaiming History

While there were those bound to focus upon the world of Onderon and its moon of Dxun, there were those whose focus was upon a world of history; histories of ancient civilizations and ages gone by. For those that sought this, it was difficult to say what was to be found upon the world, or if anything had been left behind or otherwise untouched from the time the Mandalorians had claimed and held the world not a few scant months earlier. With a soft sigh, those golden hues stared out into the void of hyperspace, watching as the vessel tunneled its way towards its destination. ​

​

"Ma'am." ​

​

Her attention was pulled away from the view screen, her hand lightly pressing a button before her as the blast shield slowly returned to its position. The room beginning to darken as the light from outside was shut out, only to be replaced moments later. The soft flickering followed before the room was bathed in a soft light, one that she was more than capable of dealing with, and not cause her a nasty burn as it were. ​

​

"Estimated time of arrival is within the hour ma'am." ​

​

"Good... Do the involved parties understand their missions?" ​

​

"Yes ma'am... Your personal guard will accompany you, additional squads will focus on the outlying museums and begin recovery sweeps for anything of interest or to be preserved for posterity." ​

​

A silent nod was followed as she took the datapad from the individual's hand, slowly looking over the information as she slipped down into the large chair, leaning back slightly as she sighed. Scrolling through the assignments, she set the datapad down in front of her. Their primary focus was on recovery and if need by, the relocation of artifacts found. She was only hoping that not every little thing was plundered by those that came before them. ​

 

[Laira Darkhold]

With Regent Girard taking the lead from the ship, chin up and head held high, Laira and the other two rangers took up a formation behind him. Eyes out and cautious Laira was well aware that the Firemane force contained the majority of their firepower and numbers. She only hoped that her abilities could help out when the time came.

The Lord Regent spoke when the dark skinned officer addressed Laira, "Yes, I am." His voice calm and collected, turning his head slightly to hide the long scars from his left eye to his chin, pale eyes taking stock of her. "But Ranger Laira can assist in coordination." The elderly man took several long strides past the woman, one hand resting on the pommel of his sword as though he had no concept of the danger the moon posed.

"Sorry about him Captain, nobles ya know." Laira retorted quietly. Her grey eyes squinted at him, as though making a mental note of his haughty attitude towards the members of Firemane. "We have a corvette in orbit with long range composite beam cannons. They don't leave a crater but they can be pretty nasty. My rangers have laser targeters synced to them, so once we locate and confirm the cult, we can set up a kill box. Use Fireman to catch them in a crossfire and the orbital strikes to disrupt them from an overwatch position. That is, if we can find them." Laira had her doubts about crazy sith worshipers moving in so soon after the Mando'ade collapsed. She knew that one of the leaders of the Mando'ade had been a Sith Lord, but certainly he wouldn't have allowed competition to rise up so close to home.

In regards to the Firemane captain, she was stern in appearance with a slight accent in her voice. They were of course geared out and guns ready when the Alderaanians arrived. Thunder was rolling in and the overcast clouds left a dim light dancing through the canopy on the woman.

"Until then, I think you should have operational command. You've got more guns to see this through and more lives at stake than us." The redhead felt the older man in front cock his head slightly, as though reluctantly approving of her reasoning, even if his pride would be slightly diminished. The ancient Girard cousin had served forty years as a Knight of Alderaan before retiring due to his advanced age. While never a renowned warrior or commander, he had been a Praetor at the time of his retirement following the One Sith's occupation of Alderaan. That kind of pride never really left those kinds of people, normally. Despite that, if only for a moment Laira felt cold, a chilling sense as though something had just breathed upon the back of her neck and then disappeared again.

[member="Glory"]

 

[Glory]

[member="Laira Vereen"]


Glory knew all about nobles. Technically she counted as nobility on her home planet. Of course, that did not mean much in the larger Galaxy since the homeworld in question had been a pre-industrial third world planet, but she was still proud! She was a bit surprised when the Alderaanian yielded operational command to her. It was something she might have pushed for of her own accord, but this made things easier. It did not escape her attention that the redhead called Laira seemed to have taken over from the nobleman, despite supposedly being a subordinate. Curious.


"Good. That's acceptable. I want the Rangers to move in concert with us. We need good scouts if we're supposed to find the needle in a moon-sized haystack," she said dryly. Technically she could have sent one of her men to oversee things on the Ranger end, but they were already short-staffed. Besides, that would have probably caused friction and she could do without that crap.


It appeared Dxun had a cultist problem. This did not surprise the Captain per se. Word was that the Mando'ade might have been Sith puppets. Her boss had certainly thought so. Then again, Lady Kerrigan had become somewhat paranoid over the years. To say that Mandalorian politics were a hornet's nest was a big understatement. They made the Eldorai game of thrones look tame - and that took real effort!


Anyhow, it was time to get moving. The longer they lingered, the colder their trail would get. Or it would be literally washed away by the perennial rain that graced the moon's jungle. "Let's get a move on. Our first lead is an outpost a few clicks away from our LZ. Supposedly people have been vanishing without a trace. And the outpost has gone quiet."


"Maybe they're already Zakkeg fodder. Or the cultists ate them, if they're into that," Sergeant Blade muttered to himself. He was clearly a big ball of sunshine and optimism. He had a big gun slung over his strong shoulders. It would probably be useful if the intrepid band of adventurers ran into a Zakkeg or one of the many beasts that populated Dxun's jungle.


"Then we shall follow the tracks," Glory said flatly. Just like on the veldt, she thought. It brought her back to younger, more innocent years when she made a living by tracking wild animals in the savannah of Dahomey. "Keep an eye on the roads and pay attention to your scanners scanners. Until we've located their hideout, if we run into cultists, our priority is capture rather than kill."

 

[Claire Organa]

Claire was approached by a member of the staff for the Gala. She had asked to have the Hapans pointed out to her if they sent representation. A single finger pointed towards [member="Relina Zhan"] . Claire nodded her thanks.

Duch'a Zhan Claire repeated the title a few times to make sure she got it right. She began the slow walk towards the Hapan noble. What should she say? Claire paused as she prepared some thoughts. Then she took a few more steps...aide...yes. If they would take it.

A tray with glasses of something to drink floated towards her she reached out and plucked one from the tray she needed a little liquid courage. She wished now she had made [member="Andorreth Vikar"] come with her to the Gala

She put on her best smile and headed towards the Duch'a .

[member="Tek Sidereal"]

 

[Relina Zhan]

[member="Claire Organa"]

Relina finished the glass of brandy, nodding for another when she was approached by the same women she took notice of a moment ago. Per habit, her ocean blue eyes scanned her up and down subtly, sizing her up, so to speak. She was lovely and carried herself well, she judged initially. She would turn to give her her full attention, making eye contact if Claire would maintain it.

"Hello. A fine party, indeed. This would be my first time on Onderon, as well. The first impression I get is a welcome one." she commented, picking up a second round of brandy.

"I trust you approach me for more than mere curiosity?" she asked, running more on intuition, which she learned the hard way not to ignore.

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Regent Girard seemed perfectly at home stalking through the undergrowth alongside the Firemane soldiers, weaving his way around thickets, brushes, and trees with a proud gait and keeping his head high. He did not seem to understand the concept of stealth however, leaves and twings both crunching beneath his sabatons. Laira's eyes rolled in his direction, annoyed with how quickly the Regent had assumed control and moved on with his life leaving her to do all the work.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, lightning shattering the sky ahead of the small group of soldiers. "Looks like rain." Laira muttered, not exactly pleased with the idea of fighting dark siders in the rain, in the middle of a jungle. Sometimes things just worked against her finer tastes. "That will make tracking difficult. We should probably hurry to the outpost and see if we can pick up the trail before it sets in." She let out a whistle, loud and piercing but similar to the calls of some of the local fauna. The two ranger's stopped, took a knee behind some form of cover and turned to face the redhead. She gave a short gesture with her hands, then a fairly dainty wave goodbye signalling the pair to move ahead quickly in her own unprofessional way.

The redhead mused that if the cultists were fond of sniper rifles she would likely be the third target after the Lord Regent and the Firemane captain, sort of a loss for her overall. Mother would be quite upset if she got the old man killed the first time he went out of his way to ensure the safety of the Royal Family. Plus the Firemane captain seemed professional and astute, a good partnership in the early stages was forming between the Free Worlds and the Tygarans that would probably diminish if she died or the Firemane troops took heavy casualties.

Laira was also not a professional. She fought and hunted things for her own amusement, which meant she had no concept of military protocol beyond being capable during a fight. "So, Captain Glory, how do you like working for Firemane? Ever get used to a lot of hot redheads running things?" She grinned widely as she moved into place beside the captain, her sound carbine held low.

[member="Glory"]

 

[Glory]

[member="Laira Vereen"]


"Look on the bright side, cutie. With it pouring like this, any Sith who tosses lightning around will electrocute himself," Sergeant Blade grunted to Laira as he moved onward with the rest of the unit. He carried a shattergun rotary cannon. Said weapon could be described as the spawn of rather rough coitus between a shattergun and a minigun. In other words, it was awfully good at killing things. He could provide cover for those who took the lead.


They moved in loose formation, trying to remain alert for danger. Hazani had gotten over her daydreaming and, judging by surreptitiously she moved, seemed intent on redeeming herself in her eyes of her boss. So she took point, since her sensitive elf ears made her ideally suited for this role. Aside from the standard issue Mk2 bolter in her hands, the Qadiri had a blade in her scabbard.


It was raining in droves. Thunder boomed in the distance, lightning slashed from the heavens and the nobleman did a good job crushing twigs beneath his boots. "You realise that this is Dxun and not a stroll through an Alderaanian park? Try to walk a little quieter. Unless you want to wake up every beast from miles away," Glory said flatly. Proper way to address an aristocrat? She did not really care. She had no patience with those whose bearing posed a risk to the mission and the team. The downpour caused a stab of annoyance, for the muddy ground was difficult to traverse, especially while wearing a suit of armour as she did.


In the meantime, Ranger Laira had suddenly appeared at her side. The Dahomian gave the secret Princess a cynical look. "They're my superiors. Hair colour has little to do with it," she said flatly. She did, after all, clearly not worry about her own hair much. It was always short-cropped. Unlike some of her colleagues, she was not 'close' to her bosses.


"Now focus on what lies ahead. I don't have time for chit-chat." With practiced gestures, she directed her soldiers. She could not help the impression that something or someone was watching them. But who could it be? Beasts, Sith cultists or True True Mandalorians? Only time would tell.

 

[Claire Organa]

[member="Relina Zhan"]

Claire's gaze met that of the Duch'a she smiled and nodded as she made her way towards her. "it is a lovely party. The family is trying to establish their claim to the throne so they must put on a good show to garner support." Claire held out her hand, "I'm Claire Organa of Contessa Designs"

She could not help but to look the Duch'a over from head to foot assuming what her size could be and to get an idea of what her style would be. Hapans were very particular she had heard. She had never had a Hapan client perhaps that would change.

First she must make a good impression.