Truculent [SOV Dominion of Orenda]

[Bast'rom'arosti]

Objective 3: Lead the Wayward Flock | Schiama Clan Territory, Orenda​

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With: [member="Amadi the Banished"]​

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Five towering, lumbering beasts with horns and their seemingly insignificant handler strode before the Schiama without a care in the world. Tobias hardly believed the Saorsa would've taken kindly to his current duty title, but the man had already assured them of his meaningful place here: to ensure things moved in favor of the Sovereignty. Colluding with a group of exiles and negotiating for an entire galactic government was hardly the worst of his assignments, but the volcanic stench of sulfur and smoke already had him counting the minutes before he could leave this desolate rock.

Clad in the simple, standard grey armor of the Sovereignty, Tobias held his tongue for the time being. As the bestial roars of violence and aggression rose, his charge immediately moved into the fray to bat away prying halberd shafts and to quite literally face a rival of his.

Regret immediately made his stomach sink. The agent haphazardly staved off offers of more personnel, namely medical. He doubted he or any of his exiled friends would need them, but their foes and rivals sure would.

Grey eyes swept around him, at the offended faces of the crowd surrounding them. They regarded him with little more than outright disgust, shifting most of their focus upon the exile warlord.

Tobias grinned, running his tongue across his incisors. An opportunity awaited.

 

[Amadi the Bansihed]

Amadi the Banished

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Schiama Clan territory, Orenda, Chrysos system, Wild Space.
Objective 3: Lead the wayward flock.
Interacting with: [member="Tobias Zieba"].​

"Run?" asked the warlord, stopping mid-stride to look over his shoulder at the exiles. "You are on my land, exile. If the chieftain permitted it, I would split your head and your shoulders apart, but in the interest of pleasing that little man and his skinny overlords, I must permit you to live. But know this-"
"Then while you clean the codpiece of your chieftain, I will beat your wife into the ground, then take her as mine until she forgets your name!"

Roars. First the chieftain turned, baring his fangs to raw at his exiled counterpart; then came Amadi, followed by his exiles; then came the near-entirety of the spectators, with jeering and stamping feet. Not only had the warlord of the clan been insulted, which admittedly came with the territory, but so had the chieftain - from the mouth of an exile, no less. What would the clansmen think if the warlord allowed such an insult to go unpunished?
"To death with the twigs from beyond!" bellowed the chieftain, lifting a hand to abruptly tear his leather pauldron to the floor. "Once I have torn your mark from your flesh, I will feed it to you as you bleed, exile!" The crowd boomed in anticipation: a battle between two warlords may very well rend the ground beneath their feet. The mark of the exile only made the stakes higher.
"Come then!" roared Amadi as he threw his vibro-axe into the hands of one of the exiles accompanying him, before he tore at sects of his armor.

Then, it began. As the two clashed, the crowd closing around them to make a would-be ring, a thick-fingered hand tapped at Tobias' shoulder. With it came the voice of Saorsa which bore a particular mark on his chest: the insignia of the Clan Schiama, drawn into his endowed pectoral with war paint.
"Perhaps the Sovereignty would prefer to talk to another?" posed the Saorsi, a league better articulated than his peers. "Allow me to host you to the real negotiations in my tent, diplomat..."

 

[Cassus Stoma]

Cassus Stoma​

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Wetlands, Orenda, Caldron Sector, Wild Space​

Music​

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The Wetlands were the greatest hunting grounds this exotic planet had to offer, and so as one foreigner wandered them nearly without a cause, he would find himself under the watchful eye of a vicious predator. As it came towards Cassus, the young man couldn't quite shake the feeling of being watched and the occasional panning glance was offered to his surroundings. Though nothing was spotted, either nothing truly was there or this predator was most definitely an experienced one. It didn't help that a Human's senses weren't as heightened when it came to spotting a predator.

As one glance was thrown towards the Wetlands a glowing set of eyes in the distance caught his attention, and he would be lying if he told you it didn't startle him. Even from the considerable distance Stoma could say it was taller than himself, but perhaps the eyes rested upon stalks. He only had a brief moment to identify them before it disappeared into the lush foliage to continue it's stalk. Cassus became more aware, more vigilant but he couldn't evade it forever. He knew that, and so did this 'thing'.

The rain. It was too loud, he couldn't hear it coming. An impressive force collided with the individual's back, causing him to come crashing down into the mud and relatively high puddles of water. A tremendous roar captivated his attention as pure fright took over. Yet still, he could feel the carbine within his grip, and in a frantic motion he rolled onto his back before wildly slamming down upon the trigger until whatever attacked him found itself dead.

They'd said that no matter what you could rely on your training, but at this point he doubted that. What was that thing? How to defend yourself and watch out for a predator on the hunt was something he was never told. Perhaps that saying was true, you live and learn.

 

[Roella Arwyn]

Orenda
Saorsa War Camp
Objective One

The Saorsa were. . . not her favorite sight she could have seen. Roella liked to think she was no hater of aliens, but there was certainly a level of discomfort being around these. . . more savage humanoids. Her soldier's mind thought of more vulgar words for them, but her lady's mind forbade her from even putting them into thought. A princess should be far more polite about such things.

From atop her mare, she examined the fortress they were to assault. Hmph. It looked rather formidable, but it had nothing on her home. Of course, few things did. Oh, well. It would fall anyway.

She shifted in her saddle, golden gilded steel armor glinting in the sunlight as she did. The Sovereign was speaking to her.

"Of course. None may stand against the might of the Sovereignty, it seems. I only wish for a taste of the glory. My Roses and I thirst for battle."

[member="Varik Ice"], @Sehkmet, [member="Saul Ferasi"], @Itash Mercetti

 

[Varik Ice]

Varik Ice​

Equipment: Lightsaber - Armour​

Location: Orenda​

Objective: 1​

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Varik nodded back at Roella as she spoke, and he felt his mouth move underneath the helmet. There was the beginnings of a smile there, though he killed it quickly, and thankfully none saw. That was odd, and he wasn't sure how to feel about it. His people had always thought smiling as either mocking, or weak; not right to do with anyone outside of family or your mate. Everything was just very strange on this day, it seemed. "They won't thirst long. Give me a few minutes."

As he spoke, Varik's eye caught the sight of a Saorsa in the camp, one that he recognized, now. The girl, Sekhmet. The one who had arranged all this, the one with the bravery to ask them for help for her people. Perhaps most others would not, but the Sovereign understood how dangerous and daunting it would be for one in her position, from the society and places that she came from to ask for help from strangers; aliens and foreigners, at that.

He approached her with the same step in his stance, giving her a nod as he approached. "Are your people ready?" A part of him itched for combat, though he tried not to exercise that urge. He wouldn't become a warmonger, and he refused to drag these people into anything they didn't need to be in. He could only hope they were prepared for what they would have to do for their freedom, though.

[member="Roella Arwyn"] | [member="Itash Mecetti"] | [member="Sekhmet Sarang"] | [member="Saul Ferasi"]

 

[Madison M. Maxwell IV]

(OBJECTIVE 1) Orenda, The Meraki Plains, Saorsa War Camp​

Play With Fire​

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i ride the edge, my speed goes in the red​

hot blood; these veins; my pleasure is their pain​

i love to watch their castles burn​

those golden ashes turned to dust​

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i've always liked to play with fire.​

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Yellow eyes briefly looked to the armoured woman, briefly sizing her up, then to the face they recognized, and Sekhmet gave Varik the cockiest of grins, "High Sovereign, it's a pleasure. I think they're as ready to rip down that fort as they'll ever be. Doesn't take much to get the horde in motion," Her tail swayed softly but occasionally twitched with clear excitement, almost unable to contain it in her small and powerful body now, "All we need is a plan of attack. And then I suppose we move on your orders."

Sekhmet had not personally seen much of Varik during her trawl in Sovereignty space. At the most she'd been seated with diplomats, fancy-talkers, not one of them looking as though they could have even put up a fight in a challenge. It wasn't as though that was essential to her like it was to other Saorsa, to judge based on combat ability, but on the other hand, she had been seeking an army. Not a bunch of meaningless lingo said by people who wore lies like cloaks.

Yes. She much preferred to speak to Varik. He seemed more like one to understand where she was coming from, and where she was trying to go.

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Spoiler: Interacting With

[member="Itash Mecetti"] [member="Varik Ice"] @Roella Arywn [member="Saul Ferasi"]

 

[Cynan Hague]

(OBJECTIVE 1) Orenda, The Meraki Plains, Saorsa War Camp​

A zephyr billowed in the small mountain pass, a moment of silence to be had after a flurry of explosive disembarkments. The freshly-arrived team of AECOs takes a collective moment to catch their breath and organize, a perimeter, of course, had to be secured before they could advance. If everything went according to plan they were completely undetected. A low storm rolls over grass-peaked hills, fog filling the valley as if the very universe itself endorsed their craft of illusion. The fog was a strange milky soup, transparent and effervescent yet heavy on the skin and thick on the feet. The strange concoction of vapor and chemicals from the nearby mine forming into the trance-like purple haze. Filtered masks were a privilege to which the Sovereignty could luckily afford. Piercing beams of light cut through the fog, each a beacon of hope stemming forth from a single helmet mounted unit, like a tide over the shore. Intermittent short-range chatter echoes within their helmets as the group embarks on their objective.

The ancient uranium mine had a massive waste system for venting any unwanted concoction within, most of which was that insidious radioactive nature or perhaps the equally sickening forms of biological waste which can accrue over hundreds of years of ill-maintenance - it was by extension a bad job, a nasty job, an AECO job.They would begin the slow trek toward the purported entrance, relying on old data was a pain, but if there was one thing everyone knew about such undesirable elements, they had a bad habit of stagnancy. Stagnancy, the most cardinal of military sins would be their reckoning, a deserved punishment for a growingly opulent caste of scum finding themselves as self-appointed lords of an unwilling world, decadence brought always with it the struggle of weakness.

The squish and squash of boots against this strange and tainted earth suddenly turned to clangs, Cynan and his team had marched no more than a few hundred meters before stumbling across their goal, though as was always it would seem something had gone wrong. The problem with hundreds of years of stagnant decadence is that things slip your mind, especially those as hard to miss as one's own waste-disposal. Rocks and waste had piled up to such an intense degree as to block and nearly bury the pipeline entirely, this was also a contingency for which the ONI handler hadn't prepared. In the game of improv, the AECO is king, without a word the squad demolitions specialist - Runali - takes the initiative, approaching with a small and simple breaching charge. Silently the squad approved and moved to distance, Cynan felt only a single through brew inside, he was glad he wouldn't be able to smell this.

It was just a small obstacle in the long one, but an annoying one any delay from their mission was unacceptable - a distraction of the most violent and undiplomatic nature in the face of their conflict was needed and it must be provided, there was going to be hell to pay, once the refuse had been cleared by equally undiplomatic resolution.

 

[Bast'rom'arosti]

Objective 3: Lead the Wayward Flock | Schiama Clan Territory, Orenda​

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With: [member="Amadi the Banished"]​

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Brutes and warriors did exactly what they did best: butt heads and angrily shout at one another. There was an attraction to that sort of behavior, Tobias assumed. Straightforward, honest, trustworthy - at least far more than he was. There was an art to the opposite form of it, to gain far more truth than anyone else did without granting them the same luxury. As ignoble as that was, it was simply the name of it game. He didn't make the rules, he just played by them.

As the savage warlords interlocked their horns, tearing their plate and mail from their bodies for a more natural duel, something thick and furry prodded his shoulder. The operative narrowed his eyes and turned to face a similarly painted and marred Saorsa as the others in the crowd. However, something seemed off. His vernacular far superior than the hardy, simple-minded warriors surrounding the duel to come.

Tobias turned back to his small party of exiles, tapping one of them on the shoulder.

"Keep him alive. I need him."

And with that, he was off towards the tent.

 

[Itash Mecetti]

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(OBJECTIVE 1) Orenda, The Meraki Plains, Saorsa War Camp​

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[member="Sekhmet Sarang"] | [member="Saul Ferasi"] | [member="Varik Ice"] | [member="Roella Arwyn"]​

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Thirsting of battle... only a few minutes... tear down that fortress.

That last bit had been expected - Sekhmet was hardly more than a common animal with the funny ability to blather coherently. A monkey could do that, if you trained them hard enough. But the other two were humans. They should know better, one of them even a princess for feth's sake. It was a good thing that these people paid him well or Itash would certainly have abandoned this effort. "It was my consideration that there are better ways than brute-force to deal with this situation." The Tapani Lord interjected, before Sekh could spout more nonsense into the air.

They had to conserve it for more worthwhile pursuits as far as Tash was concerned.

A shrug followed as their attention shifted towards him and Lord Mecetti stepped up. Oh, yes, he was under the Sovereign's contract now, to protect this supposed noble born amidst the animals. But sending in wave after wave of men to bring down the fortress offended his more... poetic spirit.

"Sovereign," A nod of acknowledgement, one noble to another he supposed. "We have air superiority. Ferasi could distract their defenses to one side, while we penetrate their defenses with a relatively small strike-team elsewhere. We move in, we subdue, we open the gates and let the main forces in." Head tilted. "Then this doesn't turn into a meat-grinder for your men." Itash didn't truly care about the fate of the Saorsa. In fact, if the Tapani had taught they would be the primary meat to grind?

He might have remained silent completely.

But something told him this new nation slowly rising up wasn't interested in such moves.

 

[Lemon]

(OBJECTIVE 1) Orenda, The Meraki Plains, Saorsa War Camp

After the Bounty Hunter's brief scuffle with a local he had continued on his way to where he should of been this whole time. Alongside the others discussing, or in his case listening, to the plan of attack. In truth, Fett cared not for the strategy for ultimately he would go against it and act how he saw fit. It was the way he was, ever defiant to such pointless things. He was stubborn, it was just his nature. The Mandalorian didn't care for the locals, their ideals or whatever justice they were ready to have bestowed upon them. It was credits - that's what Fett cared for in this Galaxy.

He strode casually throughout the camp, his gaze wandering here and there until ultimately reaching the portion of the camp that held the Sovereign, the Native and... the new addition. Fett hadn't spoken or brought himself to anyone's attention, or at least purposefully. For now waited with the intent of listening, hoping that this time of idling would pass sooner than it already had.

 

[Cassus Stoma]

Cassus Stoma​

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Wetlands, Orenda, Caldron Sector, Wild Space​

Music​

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And so, it was back to the marching he supposed. The thunderous cracks of an unnatural sound had warned off any other predator that decided the tin-can man would be suitable dinner, or perhaps even an early breakfast. Whatever the time was, Cassus surely didn't know. What he did know, however, was that the light he saw barely overcoming that hill ahead of him wasn't natural, and regardless it would be better than wandering out here. Truth be told, anything was.

It was upon the crest of the hill in which Cassus found himself, kneeling down among the relatively tall grass as that small settlement of those not native to Orenda had made a camp. Must be where the miners lived, it was the only foreseeable possibility. From here he could see some defenses - those being floodlights, armed guards and even an alarm system. Yet the multitude of landspeeders that he happened to find laying about would prove most beneficial to the lost soldier.

With slow, very slow in fact, movements Cassus began crawling through the grass as if he was a predator on the hunt. The speeders, and guards were marked upon his head, he knew where to go whilst knowing where to avoid. The floodlights were easy enough to spot from his position, they panned back and forth over the grass he cautiously crawled through. The rain made any noise from him obsolete, but the weary eyes of a miner would catch the rustling he would make if Stoma had moved to much.

The AECO, after a considerable amount of time, had reached a one-man landspeeder that resided off to the side. Out of sight, out of mind, right? Not so much. The sound of it being powered on had alerted one of the armed individuals to investigate, wandering over to find a black-silhouette tampering with one of their precious vehicles.

Cassus heard as much as a, "Hey!" Before the engines took over and he raced away. It would have to take a crack shot to hit him now, and fortunately for him the miner wasn't and didn't bother firing at all. The young man had a compass to go off of, and with his limited knowledge of the planet's geography hopefully that would be enough to set him off in the right direction.

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[Varik Ice]

Varik Ice​

Equipment: Lightsaber - Armour​

Location: Orenda​

Objective: 1​

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As Sarang spoke, Varik removed his helmet, having heard all he needed to from communications for now. He hooked it under his arm, his fingers tapping dully on the Phrik as he listened to the Saorsa's requests, and suggestions. She was certainly eager, he would give her that. He understood that sort of lust to fight, and certainly the bloodlust many of the camp must have been feeling towards those that had continually exploited and killed their people.

Varik's eyes glanced over to Itash as he made his points. He could tell a nobleman quite quickly; though he assumed now at closer inspection, the Tapani could see that he was not. His features were not any nobleman's, and his eyes gave it away most of all - they were cold, but they were hard eyes, in a way. Savage's eyes, as his training in the Empire called them. Not so long ago, he was from a place more primitive than these people - he wasn't about to look down on them.

"Our strike team is already inside. But, Ferasi would be a valuable distraction all the same." He glanced between the two, assuming he should properly explain now. "An AECO team will get those gates open. Once they are, our teams will move in first, clear the first vanguard and disable automated defenses. After that, the Saorsa will move in and help clear out the majority of security personnel and subdue anyone else we can find."

Varik knew of one slippery one, though. He looked over to where he saw the Mandalorian approaching, speaking loudly so he could hear. "Fett. You'll be after one in particular, he'll likely have an escape plan. Bring him to the Saorsa, alive." The Sovereign began to put his helmet back on, glancing to Itash once more. "Your support is appreciated. Stick with us, and you'll receive more rewards than just the credits."

Whether or not anything beyond credits mattered to him, wasn't important. The offer was there, for everyone on this world.

[member="Sekhmet Sarang"] | [member="Koda Fett"] | [member="Itash Mecetti"] | [member="Saul Ferasi"] | [member="Roella Arwyn"]

 

[Madison M. Maxwell IV]

(OBJECTIVE 1) Orenda, The Meraki Plains, Saorsa War Camp​

Kicks​

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i'm the wild one, lightning in my veins​

same again; lazy day; one man hit parade​

silver dollar, black smoke in my eyes​

shattered glass; fallen fast; leave me paralyzed​

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oh, come with me, i'll show you how to live for free...​

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A firm nod to Varik in acknowledgment and the horned woman turned her head, looking down to the camp, "I'll inform the war chiefs. They'll be delighted, no doubt." Without a further word spoken she began to head back down into the sea of people and tents, leaving both her entourage and the Sovereignty soldiers behind, and intentionally-- This was a time for her to reach her people face to face, to prepare them for an enemy they could never prepare for. Protection wasn't necessary for that.

Every chief she passed reacted differently to her news of movement, some simply nodded gravely and went to gather their men. Others were annoyed, trying to challenge her authority over their movements but it didn't take long to persuade them that such a move was a very bad idea. In the end, the horde was mobilizing. Like a sleeping beast, waking up from hibernation to begin the first hunt of spring. It was almost beautiful to witness the armored warriors start to collect their various weapons and gear, and the young Saorsa warrior came to a stop at the largest, crimson tent in the heart of the camp. News had spread like a wildfire through the tent city that they were at last ready to march, and around her fighters were funneling to their designated positions, fire in their eyes.

Pushing back the flap Sekhmet stuck her snout in, vision adjusting quickly to the darkness of the sanctuary within. Tending to a brazier in the center of the great tent was a red-robed woman, her long and sleek black horns connected by decorative red chains. Her face was painted in elegant, almost modernist lines of red war paint, her cool grey eyes flicking over to look at the intruder to the residence.

"You're troubled, cub." She hummed thoughtfully, raising a slender white eyebrow in the direction of Sekhmet, easily able to speak over the noise of the mobilizing camp outside. The thick cloth muffled the noise outside and it gave them plenty of perceived privacy. Awkwardly the young woman stood in the threshold of the tent, knowing soon enough she'd be pulled away to the front. Nodding in response to the older woman's question, Sekhmet replied stiffly, "Will we win? What do you see?"

Asya Sarang's ghostly smile brought warmth to the chilly atmosphere, speaking in the ever-familiar tone of a patronizing parent, "That's a question for the seers."

"But I asked you."

Her mother laughed, her coiled tail on the ground briefly twitching with the motion. With her eyes fixated on the flames, Asya's tone was unmistakably grave, "I don't see as much as I used to. The Life-Force is closed to me because I chose the life of a mother than a sage. But I sense..." Sekhmet was sick with anticipation as she waited for her mother to finish her sentence, head racing with thoughts. Already, she knew, the vanguard of the Saorsa forces would be wondering where their revolutionary was. She had mere minutes before she would be forced to leave the tent and hurry to the amassing forces. But the answer came with time, and an amused old woman turned to look back at Sekhmet, tearing her eyes from the coals to lock them with her daughters', "I sense that your father is desperately impatient for your arrival."

A long sigh left the young warrior as she rolled her eyes, grinning, "He would be impatient even if I was right next to him, Mama." The two shared a private, knowing smile, and as Sekhmet turned to leave the tent she felt an inner and lingering feeling of her mother's sixth sense reaching out, blanketing her with unmistakable love before she got too far away. It was a feeling that reminded her of her childhood, of how when she had been lost along the plains or the settlement after a long day of playing, her mother would simply touch upon Sekhmet's mind to indicate it was time to return, and she would follow the link back to her like a homing beacon.

"Stay safe. You're all our clan has." With those final words, Sekhmet's mother turned back to tending to her kiln. She wouldn't fight, Sekhmet knew, it wasn't her job to. She would keep the tent warm for when they returned, tired and bloody.

It was a long walk to the outskirts of the camp after that. Nostalgia way heavily on her shoulders as she walked along the lines of Saorsa waiting patiently for their signal. They were only a few klicks from the entrance to the fortress, just out of range of the defensive turrets. They had learned how far they could aim and shoot and reliably hit the bloody way. Rows upon rows of barbarians were waiting, shoulder-to-shoulder, ready for the Sovereignty to clear the way for them. Once they got their hands on that fort... Sekhmet grinned wider than she had ever before, spotting the gargantuan, one-horned figure of her father at the head of the horde.

She was going to tear it to the ground personally. It would be the tomb of their enemies. All they waited on now was for the doors to open, and the greeting party to clear their path.

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Spoiler: Interacting With

[member="Itash Mecetti"] [member="Varik Ice"] [member="Roella Arwyn"] [member="Saul Ferasi"]

 

[Cynan Hague]

(OBJECTIVE 1) Orenda, The Meraki Plains, Saorsa War Camp​

A billowing stampede now ruled this feeble planet, even deep in the tunnels beneath the mines the AECOs could hear it - one thing was now certain, their timetable had just been moved up. A single hoarse voice barks in response "Let's make this quick" the squad breaking into a sprint down the ancient pipelines, swiftly galloping towards their hopefully unsuspecting target. A flurry of movement comes to a sudden stop as Runali once again rushes to their duty, a single breaching charge is placed on a narrow wall, which, provided schematics were correct, as they had been so far would lead them to a refinery, earshot from the entrance. Five on each side they stacked themselves up, each ready to roar out and take positions, they would have only moments to act - the bell tolled.

The Horde and Sovereignty forces alike would be offered a single vision on their approach, the towering citadel of decadence and corruption lit up as an explosion rang, there was a brief pause of silence before two more explosions rocked the complex and alarms rang, echoing down into the valley. Soon came the blaster fire, that all too familiar sound of galactic warfare it had become a way of life, not only for the roving hordes of Barbarians but in many ways for the Sovereignty itself - a strange anthem which moved them all.

"Move" ordered the Sergeant after their grenades to clear the path had detonated, the enemy wasn't expecting this, they had a few moments of opportunity to press. Special Forces often led the way, but this was different, they were simply opening a door, they would for the first time in their collective careers, quite literally let slip the dogs, in this case, Saorsa of war. It was a strange feeling for Cynan for once he wasn't the hammer, sent in to perform some grand tactical play, he was the scalpel - perhaps it was his first real taste of his new life as an AECO. Cynan was awe-struck by it, addicted to this new sensation in a moment. He had become not a rampaging beast to be let loose against one's enemy but had become the stalking predator, the bringer of the apocalypse.

Shots rifled out, bolts began to suppress the squad as they moved, but they had planned for this. Each would slowly drop to cover to cover the rest, firing back on their foes, slowly but surely the group shrunk and an ever-growing line of rifles took their place, the strange sound of suppressed shots flooding the area, the enemy caught off-guard by the unique brutality of slug-throwers. Flesh would not be simply burned and lost, it would be ripped and torn. Cynan and Ze eventually took their places at the side of the gate they had so been rushed towards, Runali hurrying to set the largest charge she had been carrying - in truth, it was an armored backpack, filled with a singular explosive charge. A bolt struck Cynan in the shoulder as he quickly returned fire, it hurt like hell but his new armor had in that instant proven its usefulness.

Their firefight drew on, delays were to be expected while under fire, of course, more and more of the scum arrived by the moment in a desperate attempt to prevent the AECOs from unleashing the combined strength of their not-so-far-away allies. The only way to meet fire was with fire, so with a single resounding hurrah in the form of yet another hoarse order from Cynan, they charged. Jumping from cover to cover the AECOs pushed up, they needed room if they were to survive the ensuing explosion, after all. Cynan rushed forward to some ore-crates which had been moved in front of the gate as cover, should it be breached. The Sergeant lept over it and onto a miner as he landed, a single shot sent below struck true. One down, many, many to go.

In a matter of time, the valley was rocked by a fourth explosion, only a few minutes after the first three. It sends the very ground itself rumbling and shaking - the mining base engulfed in a flash of light. Orange flames billow upwards to the stormy sky as smoke is battered by an onslaught of rain. Peace fell yet again for a moment, the combatants within thrown about by the detonation, Cynan himself being thrown into a wall, the very breath ripped from his lungs. The opening had been made, the distraction carried out.

Objective completed.

The AECOs had to move, the full force of the Miner forces would soon come to bear, as would their beautifully savage allies, to be caught between the two was to die. Cynan struggled to get to his feet, body soar and head spinning, but he persevered none the less, his comrades themselves doing much the same. The fire on their position had dissipated, their enemies equally - or perhaps worse thanks to inferior equipment - stunned by the blast. They could only run, they would fight from the other end, draw troops away from the main force, but they would not be trampled in the stampede. Cynan could only offer a look back at the camp, to witness the horde it only filled him with a strange exciting terror, he would soon come to know it as a form of respect.

[member="Varik Ice"] [member="Sekhmet Sarang"] [member="Koda Fett"] [member="Itash Mecetti"]

 

[Zef Halo]

(OBJECTIVE 1) Orenda, The Meraki Plains, Saorsa War Camp
[member="Itash Mecetti"] | [member="Sekhmet Sarang"] | [member="Varik Ice"] | [member="Roella Arwyn"]


Saul remained silent as they discussed once more. He listened more intently on what the Tapani Lord had to say. The man clearly had some reservations to the savage locals. So did Saul. It was not an appearance dislike, for he did not share a xenophobia based on appearance. More of a distaste of the primitive culture of the whatever their name was. He felt the same about his own people, to be fair. The thought made him glance on the other side of the circle of people talking at his sister - Roella and the armored knights. Swords, steel armor, horses.

Primitive.

He hated it. Saul wanted it gone. He would lie if he said he did not feel at least a bit ashamed. He wanted to change it but he had given up. The navigator had accepted his lack of power to change Talravin. But perhaps he could change his sister to see what he saw out there in the galaxy.

Ferasi moved a few steps cautiously closer to the Tapani noble Mecetti whispering so only he could hear. "I trust your judgement more than the savages'." He did not add his distrust of his employers from the Sovereignty's side. "If you modify plans midway - let me know."

No wonder that these barbarians were under the yoke of some miners - for them the miners were omnipotent thanks to their technology. If the money wasn't good and his sister wasn't aiding the Sovereignty, Saul doubted he'd take this job.

He gave a long lasting look at Itash. Perhaps the navigator's mind was read.

 

[Amadi the Bansihed]

Story post

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Schiama Clan territory, Orenda, Chrysos system, Wild Space.
Objective 3: Lead the wayward flock.
Interacting with: [member="Tobias Zieba"].​

The exile Tobias tapped on offered a brief, affirmative snort; evidently, its interest was in the fight, but it might pass as enough.

Following the would-be "nobility" through the camp would lead the duo away from the thick of the crowds, instead looping around to the other side of what may very well pass as a central square. Most notable was a sect of tents walled off from the others, separated with wooden pikes and walls; Saorsi warriors stood sentinel over them, two of which harassing away a passerby at the time. At the head of the tents within the walls was a grand display: a tent easily three times the size of any other, adorned with trophies and flying colors. Three more branched off in a horseshoe; one of these tents was where the nobleman would led the duo, only being offered a passing glance and a snort from the warriors standing guard.

The smaller tent only seemed more modest from the outside. Inside, the walls were adorned with spoils and weapons - but also stone slabs depicting text in a far flung texts; some older and stacked in crude piles, some newer with chisels sitting next to them.
"Outsider." began the nobleman bluntly, lowering down into a seat wide enough to sit 3 human men as he did. "I sense that you are not here to chase tails this day... I can smell it on you, that you're more forward than your..." he paused to think of the next word, eventually pressing it forward: "...countrymen. I invited you here to make a deal, but tell me: what exactly is it that your "Sovereign" desires?"

 

[Varik Ice]

Varik Ice​

Equipment: Lightsaber - Armour​

Location: Orenda​

Objective: 1​

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Varik stood near the front of the formation, Sovereignty soldiers flanking his sides and rear as he watched the fortress in front. He had faith in their strike team; AECO were known as the best for a reason, after all. He went over in his mind who the members of the team were, considering their CO's daring in the engagement with rogue Imperials in the Eadu System. AECO Team 12 had a good head on thier shoulders, and they were capable enough to handle this.

As the gates blew open, Varik's form almost seemed to become a blur as he rushed into the smoke before many could make moves, the soldiers behind him falling in with suppressive blaster fire. His lightsaber already ignited, he deflected automated shots towards him as well as those that came from the more organic security personnel. Seeing his penchant for deflecting, he saw one security officer make a charge for him, only for Varik to whip around to face him, flourishing his blade in an upward arc. It bit into the officer's wrist, sending his wrist and hand flying through the air and the man on the ground, writhing in pain.

The Sovereign continued to push, his saber almost seeming to be casually raised as he continued to move inwards through the fortress' halls. He was trying most of all to find the security room; it had to be around here somewhere, and from there he could disable these turrets. He needed them gone now, if he wanted to minimize both casualties of his own men and the Saorsa. Finally, he found his place.

A sealed door prevented entry into the security room. With a squad forming up behind him, Varik took a position at the side of the door, carving a small square into the middle of it. Pulling the saber back, one of the soldiers pushed the square out, with another two tossing flashbangs through it into the room. As soon as they went off, Varik called on the force, sending the door flying back into the room and straight against the wall. The squad charged in, clearing the room before Varik even entered.

Examining the security room, Varik saw recordings and files that covered profiles on all who had worked there, from the highest administrative officer to the lowest of forced labour. Glancing to his left, he saw one of the soldiers tapping away on the terminal, which finally sent the automated turrets, shields and blast doors into shutdown. As Varik heard power drain from the defenses, it was followed by the charging sound of the Saorsa. He knew they would tear this place to shreds. They had that right, after all.

[member="Sekhmet Sarang"] | [member="Cynan Hague"] | [member="Roella Arwyn"] | [member="Koda Fett"] | [member="Itash Mecetti"] | [member="Saul Ferasi"]

 

[Itash Mecetti]

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(OBJECTIVE 1) Orenda, The Meraki Plains, Saorsa War Camp​

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[member="Sekhmet Sarang"] | [member="Cynan Hague"] | [member="Roella Arwyn"] | [member="Koda Fett"] | [member="Varik Ice"] | [member="Saul Ferasi"]​

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Tash didn't glance back to Ferasi after his words.

Instead he watched Sekhmet go and for once the mix of distaste and suspicion would be clear to see. Then. The nod, slow and subtle, once, acknowledging Saul's words while mulling them over. It was good that not everyone on this rock was clinically insane. At least one person here was just as unwilling to put their trust in this wild horde as him. The fact that Ice thought the best decision here was to put his own men in danger first, before allowing the Saorsa their cut of the meat? Stupid and naive as far as Itash was concerned.

What stopped these savages from turning against the Sovereign after his troops were weakened by the assault? A quick stab, death followed soon, then this war horde could take the Sovereignty's technology for themselves.

Because war? That seemed to be one of the few things they understood perfectly.

He didn't air it- none of it, but he felt that Saul felt similar in some degrees. Even about the woman and her... knights. Knights in armor? In this century? But once again Itash remained silent.

____​

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The silence remained.

Until it did not.

Itash's Words followed the Sovereign hot in pursuit, not leaving the Master of the Force out of their site. It was the only thing to do- stupid, brash, but Mecetti was here to make a name for himself. Sitting back and letting this Sovereign take all the glory would diminish his own stature. This was something that Tash would not- could not accept whatsoever.

His own lightsaber ignited and Tash joined the fray.

Every step Ice took, the Tapani nobleman was at his side. For every man he took down, he took out two more that would have gotten under the Sovereign's defenses. For every heroic deed Ice did, Itash matched him.

Such was the way of the Lie.

"Busy, busy." Tash mumbled as some of his Thyrsians assisted in breaking through the security of the facility. That was the beauty of Didact Defense Solutions... they provided many services for their expensive price. "They will try to retreat through here, here," index finger moved across the panel that showed the green hue matrix of the facility. "Here."

 

[Cynan Hague]

(OBJECTIVE 1) Orenda, The Meraki Plains, Saorsa War Camp​

AECO Team 12 had completed their objective, now they were stuck between a rock and a hard place - that of a charging horde of savages and a few gung-ho lightsaber wielding maniacs. The premature detonation of their explosive charge had at best left them sore, at worst caused a few fractures, there could be no time for rest or recuperate, desperately needed as it may be. They could lick their wounds later, for now, the wolf needed to limp its way to safety, at least relatively. The exodus had already begun, but judging by the sounds of Lightsabers cutting flesh and screaming warriors, they were far from done. Their entry point would be safe enough, they could fend off any stray Miners there, or those particular overeager Saorsa who see an easy target.

There was, of course, one problem with that plan despite their allies now storming the miners, Team 12 in their rush to their objective was surrounded and outgunned, with the advantage quickly slipping through their tired fingers. The trek had been exhausting, a two-kilometer march from their LZ to a veritable maze of ancient pipes and straight into a firefight, the wind had long since left the sails of this ship. Caution would be advised in any situation other than this one, so the team pressed on, and quickly. Those most affected took the rear of the squad, those the least the head. Cynan found himself in the head, quickly leading them to safety, or at least out of the path of some bloodthirsty savages who'd just see them as more offworlders to kill.

The wounded wolfpack was still composed of wolves, in the end. The few shaken and scared miners taking a position in the particularly defensible foundry would be easy to rout, especially considering their newfound distraction in the form of the Saorsa. At least they would be provided the AECOs were on top of their game, no it'd be a fight this time. Shuffling their way to a breaching maneuver, five on each side and the quick toss of a stun grenade mark they're carrying out of such a refined and repeated action. A single flash and deafening sound echo out as they rush in to cover, providing them a sliver of an advantage, that no doubt spared them from a volley of fire.

The Squad would now need to simply push in and secure this position. They could use it to overlook the growing battle and provide support as well as escape the wrath of their "allies". At least it would if it weren't the Sovereignty rushing in first, this lack of key information desperately missing from the Squad's lexicon. None the less, it would still hopefully prove a useful card to have in one's hand.

 

[Madison M. Maxwell IV]

(OBJECTIVE 1) Orenda, The Meraki Plains, Northern Uranium Mining Complex, Hallway​

Kicks​

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i'm the wild one, lightning in my veins​

same again; lazy day; one man hit parade​

silver dollar, black smoke in my eyes​

shattered glass; fallen fast; leave me paralyzed​

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oh, come with me, i'll show you how to live for free...​

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With the way cleared, the Saorsa were let off their proverbial leash, and the horde charged.

They were a controlled, chaotic natural disaster. An overwhelming wave of terrifying, angry creatures who had been in the primary position for hundreds of thousands of years to evolve into some of the most apex predators in Wild Space. And they were not happy.

Even those in the most furious of battle rages were able to somewhat discern friend from foe -- Sekhmet had been quite religious in that regard. The absolute last thing she needed was one of the idiot outlander clans deciding that a Sovereignty soldier was the same thing as the enemy, and beating one into the ground. So far, as she could tell from the centre of the battlefield, nothing like that had occurred. Yet. As much as she might wish otherwise, certain members of her species were, unfortunately, overwhelmingly stupid in these matters.

The immediate area in front of the fort was now a site of carnage, as the remaining mercenary forces were forced to push back against the cascading Saorsa numbers. One of the enemy troops charged at her, intending to take her out with the butt of his rifle raised high above her head. His friends had died this day. Blind hatred guided his heart now, and that was exploitable.

She reacted fast to the threat, those long, yet rarely-used claws reaching up to shred the man's arm through his clothes and pathetic armour, her leg hooking around his and brought the mercenary to the ground in one clean, fell swoop. He'd find his peace in the afterlife, she rationalized the kill, suffocating the feelings of brief guilt inside. Sekhmet's eyes flicked from the freshly-killed soldier below her to an open doorway, the sounds of an interior detonation drawing her immediate attention. Darting away from the corpse she dove for the entrance, intending to find some particularly explode-y foes to fight.

Instead, she was face to face with an AECO squad. One that didn't look overly friendly. Panting from both her run and the rush of adrenaline in her system, she stared like a deer in shiplights, waiting to see what the team of elite soldiers would do in reaction to her sudden and frankly hostile appearance in their vantage point. If these were the enemy, she was up to her neck in it now.

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Spoiler: Interacting With

Directly: [member="Cynan Hague"] | Other Tags: [member="Itash Mecetti"] [member="Varik Ice"] [member="Roella Arwyn"] [member="Saul Ferasi"] [member="Koda Fett"]