M E A T B A G
Outer Rim Territories // Sith-Imperial Administrative Oversector II // Carrion Sector // Sojourn, the Hunter’s Moon.
Concurrent with the Alderaani Summit Revelation - Galactic Standard Time.
Aboard the GCV "Xanthus" Spyridon - Class Astral Catamaran
Translating from Hyperspace.
There was a time, long before the darkening of civilizations light, when the Scions of Thyrsus were bound together as one. They stood united against the oppressive hubris of their genetic cousins, who hailed from the world of Eshan. For nearly three centuries, they waged a war that would ensure their independence for all time. Yet, in the aftermath, they lost the force that brought them together and began to fragment. From this Splintering, the Sun Guard were born and the planet became divided for the first time since they were enslaved. It was in that moment that the people and their nomadic heralds began to diverge, further and further until they were almost unrecognizable. Some have stated that this schism of ideas, gave birth to the Sun Guard’s eventual demise at the hands of the Sith years later. Others have stated that their devotion to some misbegotten cause, where they worshipped an intergalactic messiah, which led them down the darkened path.
Regardless of what was true, the Sun Guard were slaughtered by the Ventress - a Dark Assassin bearing twinned sabres of bloody crimson. Those that survived her wroth were once again divided. Some sought out their old master’s pupil, becoming the first of his Red Guard. Those that knew better returned home and began to reintegrate themselves with the people they left behind. As one can imagine, those that went on to serve the new Galactic Emperor were systematically eliminated in petty games of power; whilst they fought to reclaim a legacy that was never theirs. It was their blind allegiance to the Sith and their ilk that would herald their doom. Thyrsus and her people were riven, and thus they suffered as more of their people perished in the fires of their fruitless ambitions. No longer did they embody the notion of a united people; who were stronger together than they were when divided.
Such words would become true as this day’s events would be recorded, as the world of Sojourn seemingly housed a heretical sect of Thyrsians -- who dared to call themselves Sun Guards, sever the ties to their birthright. It was outright blasphemous to an already broken people; not to mention their absolute subservience to a Sith. While this standpoint would seem to be utterly ironic, as the Golden Company found itself employed by the Sith Empire more often than not; the key difference that mattered was that they weren’t enslaved, nor blindly bound to service. They were more than capable of refusing work from their paymasters, just as they were able to graciously accept it. They were free to stalk the stars, and know that hoards of credits awaited for them whenever they desired to return the burgeoning superpower’s astral shoals.
The only one amongst the Golden Company’s number who even swore fealty - of a sort - to the Sith was Khonsu Amon. He had been secretly taken under the wing of the Sith-Imperial Shadow Hand; the Supreme Commander, and the overly theatrical Lord of Lies. A relationship that saw the ambitious Thyrsian rise through the ranks, and the fortunes of the entire outfit rise ever higher. One could even say that this relationship caused the organization to live up to their name; where the armour of every Sun Guard was forged from the pilfered war spoils of the planet’s they conquered. It was also a bond that saw to the master, of the master, gifting the apprentice with knowledge; Secrets that dwelled upon the surface of the Hunter’s Moon. It seemed that a Sith - who bore many faces in the hopes of grasping onto her dwindling reserves of power - forged a solitary nest atop the slowly reviving crust of a once desolate world.
While there were notions that bespoke of a titan ridding himself of a nagging boil that began to burst, Khonsu knew better. It was a base that could be used to gather resources, and an anchorage for the entirety of the Golden Company to rest their weary bones; before readying themselves for the greatest of their endeavours. Sojourn would become a bastion at the Edge of an Empire; before another Contender rose to prominence amongst the Giants in the galactic playground.
The Twisuns Praetor stood atop the Xanthus’ deployment deck, with his taloned fingers wrapped around the haft of his extended force pike. It’s polished surface ground against the scuffed facet of the flight deck, as the weapon leaned away from its master. The warrior was helmed, and the horsehair crest that jutted forth from his gilded crown billowed ever-so-slightly in the technological ballet erupting nearby. Automated cranes lifted gunships and walkers into position, and platforms began transferring armed and armoured divisions of soldier’s from one deck to another. They were readying themselves for battle, once again. The Golden Company was triumphant in their service to the Sith Empire, as they besieged the world of Csilla; despite much of their glory being reduced to nothing more than a footnote in the annals of history. They claimed many Jen’ari lives that day; by gunning them down as they ran in a whirlwind of solarized plasma of shot, or by running them through with the energized lethality coruscating across their metallic blades.
However, their work was never done.
Khonsu stood alone, as he waited for the warning klaxons to sound. His ritual observances were already complete, as the man never truly removed himself from the armour that clung to his muscular frame. Thus, he found himself oddly at a loss. It would be foolish to relieve himself of the tension of his articulated vestments; especially when there was yet more blood to be shed. It would also be unwise for him to waste his energy, and that of his power suit, on the training decks. They were likely to be packed already, with the number of soldiers they ferried too and from the surface of Csilla. He’d also have little room to test his might effectively, and that wouldn’t do. However, there was something he could busy himself with. The Thyrsian could join his Zabraki Commander in overseeing the new recruits that joined them during their transit back into Sith-Imperial space.
It wasn’t ideal, but it was also something that would pass the time until their emergence from Hyperspace. Thus, did the Sun Guard move towards a section of the flight deck devoted to the new crop of Initiates that found themselves under his joint command. It was likely they came from all walks of life, and that they had their own reasons for enlisting within the Mercenary Outfit. Truth be told, Khonsu couldn’t care. They needed to be blooded first for him to even bother giving him a piece of his mind; which meant that they would likely be forgotten in the year to come… unless they proved to be exceptional. The man did relish surprises, and often gave them the chance to prove their mettle -- be it on the battlefield, or in the depths of the fighting pits.
Nevertheless, it was his duty, and the price of his ambition saw him carried towards a collection of shuttles, and a gaggle of Mercenaries; who stood before an unhelmed Zabrak in gilded warplate.
“I know your journey’s been long,” the horned-man began, as his dark eyes scoured the faces of those gathered about him. “However, I’m afraid there won’t be a chance to ease you into our operations. We’ve been given quite the bounty from the Sith Empire, and it’d be foolish for us to waste this chance.”
He paused to acknowledge Khonsu with a curt nod, before returning his attention to the Gathering before him.
“So, your first assignment is to join with the Sun Guard, and the Auxilia Forces, as we scour the Hunter’s Moon of a band of Iconoclasts. While this holds a cultural, and almost personal meaning for us - We’re going to pay the lot of you for every False Sun Guard’s scalp you collect. We don’t care how it’s done, just that it is. There’s also an additional bounty for every officer that you find. Bring them to the Twisuns Praetor and me, and you shall be richly rewarded.”
With one last glance, the Zabraki Commander turned his gaze towards to group; swivelling from one face to another.
“Any questions?”
Concurrent with the Alderaani Summit Revelation - Galactic Standard Time.
Aboard the GCV "Xanthus" Spyridon - Class Astral Catamaran
Translating from Hyperspace.
There was a time, long before the darkening of civilizations light, when the Scions of Thyrsus were bound together as one. They stood united against the oppressive hubris of their genetic cousins, who hailed from the world of Eshan. For nearly three centuries, they waged a war that would ensure their independence for all time. Yet, in the aftermath, they lost the force that brought them together and began to fragment. From this Splintering, the Sun Guard were born and the planet became divided for the first time since they were enslaved. It was in that moment that the people and their nomadic heralds began to diverge, further and further until they were almost unrecognizable. Some have stated that this schism of ideas, gave birth to the Sun Guard’s eventual demise at the hands of the Sith years later. Others have stated that their devotion to some misbegotten cause, where they worshipped an intergalactic messiah, which led them down the darkened path.
Regardless of what was true, the Sun Guard were slaughtered by the Ventress - a Dark Assassin bearing twinned sabres of bloody crimson. Those that survived her wroth were once again divided. Some sought out their old master’s pupil, becoming the first of his Red Guard. Those that knew better returned home and began to reintegrate themselves with the people they left behind. As one can imagine, those that went on to serve the new Galactic Emperor were systematically eliminated in petty games of power; whilst they fought to reclaim a legacy that was never theirs. It was their blind allegiance to the Sith and their ilk that would herald their doom. Thyrsus and her people were riven, and thus they suffered as more of their people perished in the fires of their fruitless ambitions. No longer did they embody the notion of a united people; who were stronger together than they were when divided.
Such words would become true as this day’s events would be recorded, as the world of Sojourn seemingly housed a heretical sect of Thyrsians -- who dared to call themselves Sun Guards, sever the ties to their birthright. It was outright blasphemous to an already broken people; not to mention their absolute subservience to a Sith. While this standpoint would seem to be utterly ironic, as the Golden Company found itself employed by the Sith Empire more often than not; the key difference that mattered was that they weren’t enslaved, nor blindly bound to service. They were more than capable of refusing work from their paymasters, just as they were able to graciously accept it. They were free to stalk the stars, and know that hoards of credits awaited for them whenever they desired to return the burgeoning superpower’s astral shoals.
The only one amongst the Golden Company’s number who even swore fealty - of a sort - to the Sith was Khonsu Amon. He had been secretly taken under the wing of the Sith-Imperial Shadow Hand; the Supreme Commander, and the overly theatrical Lord of Lies. A relationship that saw the ambitious Thyrsian rise through the ranks, and the fortunes of the entire outfit rise ever higher. One could even say that this relationship caused the organization to live up to their name; where the armour of every Sun Guard was forged from the pilfered war spoils of the planet’s they conquered. It was also a bond that saw to the master, of the master, gifting the apprentice with knowledge; Secrets that dwelled upon the surface of the Hunter’s Moon. It seemed that a Sith - who bore many faces in the hopes of grasping onto her dwindling reserves of power - forged a solitary nest atop the slowly reviving crust of a once desolate world.
While there were notions that bespoke of a titan ridding himself of a nagging boil that began to burst, Khonsu knew better. It was a base that could be used to gather resources, and an anchorage for the entirety of the Golden Company to rest their weary bones; before readying themselves for the greatest of their endeavours. Sojourn would become a bastion at the Edge of an Empire; before another Contender rose to prominence amongst the Giants in the galactic playground.
The Twisuns Praetor stood atop the Xanthus’ deployment deck, with his taloned fingers wrapped around the haft of his extended force pike. It’s polished surface ground against the scuffed facet of the flight deck, as the weapon leaned away from its master. The warrior was helmed, and the horsehair crest that jutted forth from his gilded crown billowed ever-so-slightly in the technological ballet erupting nearby. Automated cranes lifted gunships and walkers into position, and platforms began transferring armed and armoured divisions of soldier’s from one deck to another. They were readying themselves for battle, once again. The Golden Company was triumphant in their service to the Sith Empire, as they besieged the world of Csilla; despite much of their glory being reduced to nothing more than a footnote in the annals of history. They claimed many Jen’ari lives that day; by gunning them down as they ran in a whirlwind of solarized plasma of shot, or by running them through with the energized lethality coruscating across their metallic blades.
However, their work was never done.
Khonsu stood alone, as he waited for the warning klaxons to sound. His ritual observances were already complete, as the man never truly removed himself from the armour that clung to his muscular frame. Thus, he found himself oddly at a loss. It would be foolish to relieve himself of the tension of his articulated vestments; especially when there was yet more blood to be shed. It would also be unwise for him to waste his energy, and that of his power suit, on the training decks. They were likely to be packed already, with the number of soldiers they ferried too and from the surface of Csilla. He’d also have little room to test his might effectively, and that wouldn’t do. However, there was something he could busy himself with. The Thyrsian could join his Zabraki Commander in overseeing the new recruits that joined them during their transit back into Sith-Imperial space.
It wasn’t ideal, but it was also something that would pass the time until their emergence from Hyperspace. Thus, did the Sun Guard move towards a section of the flight deck devoted to the new crop of Initiates that found themselves under his joint command. It was likely they came from all walks of life, and that they had their own reasons for enlisting within the Mercenary Outfit. Truth be told, Khonsu couldn’t care. They needed to be blooded first for him to even bother giving him a piece of his mind; which meant that they would likely be forgotten in the year to come… unless they proved to be exceptional. The man did relish surprises, and often gave them the chance to prove their mettle -- be it on the battlefield, or in the depths of the fighting pits.
Nevertheless, it was his duty, and the price of his ambition saw him carried towards a collection of shuttles, and a gaggle of Mercenaries; who stood before an unhelmed Zabrak in gilded warplate.
“I know your journey’s been long,” the horned-man began, as his dark eyes scoured the faces of those gathered about him. “However, I’m afraid there won’t be a chance to ease you into our operations. We’ve been given quite the bounty from the Sith Empire, and it’d be foolish for us to waste this chance.”
He paused to acknowledge Khonsu with a curt nod, before returning his attention to the Gathering before him.
“So, your first assignment is to join with the Sun Guard, and the Auxilia Forces, as we scour the Hunter’s Moon of a band of Iconoclasts. While this holds a cultural, and almost personal meaning for us - We’re going to pay the lot of you for every False Sun Guard’s scalp you collect. We don’t care how it’s done, just that it is. There’s also an additional bounty for every officer that you find. Bring them to the Twisuns Praetor and me, and you shall be richly rewarded.”
With one last glance, the Zabraki Commander turned his gaze towards to group; swivelling from one face to another.
“Any questions?”
