Private The Captured: Aargonar [Campaign]

[Valdus Bral]

THE CAPTURED: AARGONAR

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The suns began to set behind the dimly lit horizon causing rust-colored light to paint the sky over a remote village on the planet of Aargonar. It would be dark soon, though the sand and rocks that covered the surface of the planet would retain the heat gathered throughout the day for several hours yet. A gentle wind blows across the dunes and rocky spires, though the planet was generally quiet several voices could be heard coming from a collection of starships that formed a very loose circle. Dozens of lamps and spotlights cast brilliant light upon the center of the circled starships to reveal tens of armed humanoids traveling too and from starships, wandering around the perimeter of the ships, and some were more or less stationary as they watched over d rows of humanoids who knelt into the scorching sand.

A mercenary with a scarred appearance strode towards the rows of kneeling slaves, a blaster pinwheeling around his third finger on his right hand, his left hand holding a belt with many pouches. A smug expression adorned his face and a sinister and bemused glint in his eyes. He spoke in a loud and pompous voice, " What to do with you, what to do with you..." his gaze falling upon the back of a kneeling prisoner whose head hung low in despair. " Three days on this horrific planet and for what? Two hundred credits? Hmph!" He snorted, " I should've demanded twice that. Oh of course the job is a simple enough one -" his steps grew closer to the prisoner before coming to a halt, " -but the details...oh the ridiculous details! Wait for three days, don't execute the prisoners until nightfall on the third, and then join with the rest of the fleet." His voice turned mocking and deep as he spoke. His head turned towards the ridge lines and spires where the second sun fell behind them, dusk was soon approaching. " Any minute now." He mused, he bounced in place as adrenaline filled his veins. Some of the prisoners began to sob, though most were quiet, they had endured so much in the last weeks; branding, beatings, and kneeling on a desert world only barely alive as they were for the last three days. The mercenary began closing the distance between himself and the prisoner and as he stood directly behind the prisoner he squatted down causing his gear to rattle against his armor. The mercenary brought the blaster towards the side of the head of the prisoner, still pinwheeling around his finger, the muzzle occasionally flipping so close to the side of the head of the prisoner that the prisoner's hair popped upwards from the muzzle grazing the hair.

The mercenary looked up and towards the ridge-line and soon the final sun fell past the horizon, the sky and the surface faded into darkness. The mercenary drew his tongue over his bottom from left corner to right before withdrawing his tongue into his mouth. "Time's up." He said in a sing-song voice and as he did the blaster instantly ceased its spinning, the muzzle aimed at the ear of the the prisoner, and he pulled the trigger. A flash of orange light sparked across the group, the screech of a blaster firing heralded the soft thud of the prisoner's body as it fell into the sand. Smoke arose from the deceased's head as the mercenary jumped to a stand giving an invigorating hoot. "WOOOOOOOO! Ya, feels so kriffin' good!" He looked wild eyed at the rest of his crew who chuckled and shook their heads at his eccentricity.

Meanwhile, those that may be looking for the prisoners would find themselves in a small village only a few minutes out from the mercenary camp. Villagers, though shaken and timid, sheepishly point out the direction towards the camp along with the warning of the numbers and ferocity of the mercenaries.




Time of Day: Night
Weather: Clear
Temperature: Hot and cooling
Combat Type: Small squad or individual ground-combat.
Scene NPCs: 50x Outer Rim Mercenaries (Aggressors) & 20x Prisoners (Neutral)

Aggressors:

1. Mygeleto failed to show
2. Chris Walker failed to show
3. Natian Sanorge

Saviors:

1. Mig Gred
2. Beltran Rarr

Third-Party:

1. Tathra Khaeus

 

[Vonar Ardinn]

Location : In Orbit of Aargonar
Objective : TBD
Allies : Valdus Bral , Mygeleto , Chris Walker
Enemies : Mig Gred , Beltran Rarr


“Sir we have arrived at the Aargonar System.”

Natian Sanorge’s Ship ,the Snooper arrived in orbit of Aargonar. Though his objective was still unclear , Natian had taken interest in a recent series of raids conducted by Mercenaries in Mid Rim and believed that he could use the situation to his advantage to establish a Neo-Mandalorian Proxy within the Mid Rim to use as part of a larger plan to launch DIA Sponsored Raids against the Silver Jedi to prevent further Jedi intervention in the affairs of the Directorate.

However Natian Sanorge knew better , there was eventually going to be opposition to these Mercenaries and the Head of the DIA wished to personally see how this played out with the DIA’s involvement in these raid being quite risky. “Deploy some Scouts and have them observe these Mercenaries. Let see how tough they are when the Opposition arrives.” Said Natian. For know he would not get directly involved in what would happen on the planet and he knew that it would be better to make a slower approach to the current situation.

Soon DIA Scouts were deployed on AT-RDP’s and were on their way to a village near the one occupied by the Mercenaries. From there they would move forth to begin surveilling the Mercenaries and their actions and reporting to Sanorge. Just in case however , Natian had a Fleet of 6 Warships held in reserve to make sure that any threat would be quickly dealt with.

 

[Mig Gred]

Location: Surface
Objective: Free the slaves.
Weapons/armor: Lightsaber Trayc'kal, Echani Vibrosword, Armor
Ship: Basilisk
Allies: Beltran Rarr
Enemies: Chris Walker Natian Sanorge Mygeleto Valdus Bral

Mig walked away from the village, looking out to where the villagers had pointed him. He needed to get their fast with the cover of night fast approaching. The Mandalorian was no friend to slavers. Both his wife and adopted daughter were former slaves, and wasn't willing to let the practice go unnoticed. Right now though, he focused on getting a vantage point.

"R10, be ready with the Basilisk. May need a speedy getaway with the prisoners." It was then that the sound of a blaster bolt cut through the air. He ran over the last hill in his path, seeing the sight of the landed ships, mercs, and slaves. They killed one of them. Mig gripped his Trayc'kad before switching it to its blaster mode, and aiming down range. His target. The mercenary that seemed to have fired his weapon. No.... He had a better idea. Mig closed his eyes, using a Force Push the sent the sand ahead of him fly towards the mercs. He then quickly ran down with it, using the sand to obscure his position.

 

[Beltran Rarr]

Location: Surface of planet, village near Mercenary encampment

Objective: Acquire power converters, save prisoners if possible

Allies: Mig Gred

Enemies: Valdus Bral Mygeleto Natian Sanorge Chris Walker

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Equipment Load out:

Armor: OS-103 Whisper Class Armor
Primary Weapon: OS-109 Variable Strength Assault Rifle (chest rig)
Secondary Weapons:

• OS-105 Stalwart Light Blaster Pistol (drop holster, right hip)
• OS-102 Wrist Mounted Hold Out Blaster (right wrist)
• OS-101 Retractable Vibrosword (on utility belt)
• Krath Itak Sword (back scabbard) *Note to Force Users/Force Sensitives - this blade emanates a strong Dark Side aura*
• 2 x stun grenades (chest rig)
• 2 x frag grenades (chest rig)
• 2 x explosive charges (chest rig)

Misc Equipment

• OSX-01 Personal Cloaking Device (on utility belt)
• OS-108 Energy Buckler (left wrist)
• Spare magazines

“Sithspawn!” Beltran muttered to himself as he stuck his head out of the guts of his ship, The Imperialis. The damned ship was always shorting out it’s power distribution system at the worst possible time. This time, the short had actually caused his Navi-Computer to malfunction, sending him to Aargonar instead of Kashyyyk like he’d intended.

“I really need to buy a new ship.”

Climbing out of the power distribution node, he walked over to the meager cargo bay where he kept spare parts. “And of course, that was the last of the converters I picked up on Svivren.” He said to himself.

It wasn’t in Beltran’s nature to complain, but ever since he’d managed to escape the people who’d held him prisoner and butchered his body, he’d been in near constant agony. Frequent shots of powerful narcotics kept him functional, but he was starting to get testy.

He doubted that he’d have much luck finding the parts he needed here in this tiny village where’d he’d been forced to set down. Especially as the sun began to sink in the sky. But he figured he’d give it a try. His experience on Svivren had taught him that situations could rapidly turn violent, even when one was trying to buy power converters. So this time he opted to put on his full combat kit, and wrap himself in his Jakku style desert garb, before entering the town.

He quickly made his way to the center of town, assuming that’s where the market would be. What he found were a group of people huddled together talking amongst themselves. As soon as they saw him, one of them turned and ran direction up to him.

“Oh thank the force! Are you here to save them?!”

Beltran tilted his head slightly and said, through his helmet’s vox modulator, “Save who?”

“The people those damned mercenaries took!”

“Listen I—” Beltran began to answer, before he was cut off by another of the townsfolk-a woman in her mid to late fifties.

“Please sir! They have my grandson. They’re going to sell him into slavery, or maybe worse! You have to help!”

Beltran resisted the urge to sigh audibly. He really wasn’t the heroic type, unless he was being paid to be. But one of the few ideals that he’d held onto from his homeworld was an intense dislike of slavery and anyone who participated in its propagation. Also, a quick glance told him that it really was unlikely he was going to be able to find the parts he needed here.

“Alright,” He said after a moment. “Where are they being held?”

The townsfolk gave him directions to a nearby enclave of ships where the mercenaries were holding the prisoners. He made his way there quickly, using both his personal cloaking device, and the sound dampening field emitted by his armor, to keep from being spotted as he approached.

Looking down on the enclave from a nearby dune, Beltran did sigh this time. “Even more outnumbered then I was on Saleucami.” He murmured to himself, vox modulator off so he couldn’t be heard. It was then that he noticed a sudden wave of sand, moving against the wind and into center of the encampment.

“The feth?” Beltran murmured as he used his helmet’s HUD to zoom in on the area. “Oh,” He said a moment later after locating a figure moving within the sandstorm. “A Jedi. Not as outnumbered as I thought.”

While the unknown Jedi attacked the encampment directly, Beltran made use of the distraction to make his way into the circle of ships from the other side. Securing his rifle to his chest so that it wouldn't bounce around, Beltran drew his Krath Itak Sword and slowly snuck between the hulls of two of the ships.

The mercenaries, while brutal, hadn’t seen fit to post much in the way of sentries around their enclave. As he snuck in closer, he’d only had to dispatch a single mercenary who’d chosen the wrong time to open of the side maintenance hatches. A quick thrust of his sword had embedded tip of the blade in the man’s throat, causing him to bleed out quickly and with no more noise than that of a wet gurgling.

Glancing into the ship through the open hatch, he considered the corridor for a moment. “Yeah, I should be able to get the parts I need from one of these ships no problem.” He then quietly closed the hatch and continued along the two ships until he was able to see the scene unfolding in front of him. Sheathing his sword, he unsecured his rifle and began to site in on one of the mercenaries.

For the moment, he would hold his fire. He wanted to get a little more context about the scene before him before he dispatched anyone else.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

Location: Aargonar
Objective: Assess
Nuisances: Valdus Bral | Mig Gred | Beltran Rarr | Mygeleto | Chris Walker | Natian Sanorge
Units: 6x Sirracus Wyrms | x1 Skag

Tathra Khaeus had arrived clad in a khaki cloak, layered and ribbed. Not something the Chieftain of the Bryn'adûl typically adorned himself with, it was seen as an improper expression of self to hide under too many folds of protection. However the cloak provided a restriction to the sand storms - keeping the small granules and rocks from the many crevices of his armour and plated skin, at least somewhat. Tones of bronze collected over the length of his back, the sun was falling and cold air rose.

Ahead, a loose grouping of Starships. Exactly what he'd been looking for. When the Bryn'adûl had discovered the research facility on Maldra IV, they'd also discovered the identity of the Scientists who had escaped from the planet. His knowledge would not be passed on. The Bryn'adûl had spent much time ensuring that their slow push towards the Galaxy had drawn as little attention as possible. This, was a security risk the Titan would see to personally. By his people's creed, it was his responsibility. Any fault not personally at the hands of any Drael was his to bare, the turning wheels of fate moving against them were his to subdue, to control.

Now, that scientist was in the hands of Mercenaries. An executioners chair, some would have seen that as fate on his side. But now, it was simply a race, he had to make the kill first or his honour would be at risk and he would have to take the life of the perpetrator. Tathra sent in his Sirracus, treading underneath soft ground - scouting the area. Tathra awaited atop his Skag, the arrival of a larger force in the nearby village complicated things.

But either way - he would kill them all.

 

[Valdus Bral]

THE CAPTURED: AARGONAR

The encampment of circled modified freighter starships afford the Outer Rim Mercenaries some level of protection and security from attack, though it was no substitute for a fortress and their combat oriented freighters were not a substitute for true military starships. However, the mercenaries were used to their gear and knew their strengths and limitations of their equipment.

Despite their security measures, the focus of the mercenaries had been drawn towards the center of encampment where the first prisoner had just been executed. It had been a long three days for the mercenary crew as such any distraction from the monotony easily gained their attention. This distraction would prove fatal to at least one mercenary who had been ascending the loading ramp of one of the smaller freighters, impaled upon the blade of Beltran Rarr .

While Beltran Rarr and Mig Gred made their way unimpeded towards the camp using various means of stealth, environment, and time of day, another force had appeared some distance from the camp. Large, writhing beasts led by a large and vaguely humanoid figure were just out of sight due to the quickly darkening skies in addition to the majority of Tathra Khaeus ‘s forces burrowing beneath the sandy surface of Aargonar.


The mercenaries were blissfully unaware as of yet of the impending battle. The mercenary captain began to flip around his blaster once more, playing a mental game of inny-meeny-miny-mo before halting his blaster and firing off yet another shot into the back of the neck of one of the prisoners who thudded to the sand beneath them.


Time of Day: Night
Weather: Clear
Temperature: Hot and cooling
Combat Type: Small squad or individual ground-combat.
Scene NPCs: 49x Outer Rim Mercenaries (Aggressors) & 18x Prisoners (Neutral)

Aggressors:

1. Natian Sanorge

Saviors:

1. Mig Gred
2. Beltran Rarr

Third-Party:

1. Tathra Khaeus

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

Location: Aargonar
Objective: Assess
Nuisances: Valdus Bral | Mig Gred | Beltran Rarr
Units: 6x Sirracus Wyrms | x1 Skag

The Sirracus Wyrms writhed in the heat, coiled in the depths of the boiling sand. Their forms were pale, fresh with deformed skin and strange pigmentation along the length of their tendril filed and clawed faces; venomous fangs and lidless eyes hide deep beneath the sand. Tathra waited on the edge of the Dune, remaining little more than a distant scowl to the grouping of Mercenaries for the moment. The Sirracus would be in place first, and then he'd strike. Another loud bang echoed through the empty dunes - a gunshot. Another prisoner killed. The Titan felt himself flinch, muscles jolting in place as his instinct to close the distance became more prevalent.

Ultimately as patient as he was it didn't mean he enjoyed it. They were simply Mercenaries, the fight would not be a fight at all, rather a slaughter. He could not derive pleasure from the stimulation of combat, but simply of an objective achieved. Thus he tolerated his urges, as without restraint those urges would not be sated in any capacity and his irritable tendencies would have been endured for naught. It was more important that he did not waste time.

The Titan rose, having allowed a minute to pass; substantial time for the Sirracus Wyrms to get comfortably within the encampment. Tathra gently leapt but half a metre forward, allowing the steep bend of the dune to carry him down some fifty feet; cloak billowing around his form, shrouding the silver-gold plate in the blackness of the impending night. As darkness fell and light made its exit, so did the Chieftain enter the fray.

The sand hushed his descent, allowing the Titan to land amidst a gust of sand; half-length now shrouded in a fog of sand as he marched toward the encampment. Feet finally found firm footing, sandstone. His presence no longer unnoticed to those with hearing of clarity. In every step a great powerful mass echoed in heavy beats like a war drum, a slow and calm approach.

 

[Beltran Rarr]

Location: Inside mercenary encampment, Aargonar

Objective: Steal mercenary ship, acquire power converters, save prisoners if possible

Allies: Mig Gred

Enemies: Valdus Bral Natian Sanorge Tathra Khaeus

Equipment Load out:

Armor: OS-103 Whisper Class Armor
Primary Weapon: OS-109 Variable Strength Assault Rifle (chest rig)
Secondary Weapons:

• OS-105 Stalwart Light Blaster Pistol (drop holster, right hip)
• OS-102 Wrist Mounted Hold Out Blaster (right wrist)
• OS-101 Retractable Vibrosword (on utility belt)
• Krath Itak Sword (back scabbard) Note to Force Users/Force Sensitives - this blade emanates a strong Dark Side aura
• 2 x stun grenades (chest rig)
• 2 x frag grenades (chest rig)
• 2 x explosive charges (chest rig)

Misc Equipment

• OSX-01 Personal Cloaking Device (on utility belt)
• OS-108 Energy Buckler (left wrist)
• Spare magazines

As situations tended to do, this one changed on a dime. One moment, Beltran was sighting down on the Mercenary leader, ready to dispatch the man in support of the Jedi’s one-man assault on the camp. Then, all of a sudden, the sound of a loud thump! drew the Lorrdian’s attention to the far edge of the encampment.

“Well…” He murmured to himself as he zoomed in on the giant monstrous creature, and the creature riding it, that were advancing on the camp. “That’s new.”

Beltran had never seen creatures like the ones that were now beginning to attack the camp, but he needed no show of their strength to sense the danger they represented. With practiced efficiency, the Lorrdian operative buried any questions he might have as to the nature or origin of these creatures deep in his mind. Those would be questions that could be explored at a later date, assuming he survived the coming encounter.

Turning his attention back to the center of the encampment, He reached down to his utility belt and pulled out a small frag grenade. He then thumbed the detonator and tossed it into the group of mercs, just near where the leader stood. It was small enough that between the dying sand-storm of the Jedi’s assault, and the impending march of death these new creatures represented it wasn’t even noticed as it hit the ground in the middle of the group. And even it it was, there would be little time to react.

A split-second later, it detonated, sending several mercs and a few of the prisoners flying off their feet with the concussive force of the impact.

“The creature! Look to the edge of the camp!” He called out, using his natural talents to mimic the mercenaries’ commander’s voice exactly and utilizing his the vox modulator on his helmet to throw his voice into the middle of their group. “It's hurling explosives at us! Attack! Attack!”

With any luck, the sudden explosive and confusing shout would inspire the mercenaries to counter attack, which hopefully would slow the creature and keep the mercenaries busy enough that they wouldn’t even notice as the Lorrdian snuck forward into the encampment, toward a few of the surviving prisoners.

A few times, when he felt one or more of the mercs would see his movement out of the corner of their eyes and they began to turn to make eye contact, Beltran would release a blaster bolt aimed directly at their face. In each case, he didn't have time to see whether the shot would hit home and had to trust that even if the mercenary at the other end of his weapon wasn't dead, he was at least ducking down and wasting valuable time trying to figure out who was who and what the feth was going on.

A few moments later, Beltran reached a group of remaining prisoners huddling in the center of the encampment and he spoke. “If you want to survive today,” He told them matter-of-factly. “You’ll listen to me. In a moment, I’m going to enter that ship there.” He said, indicating one of the ships closest to their position. “I’m then going to kill the crew and take off. If you want to live, you’ll be right behind me.”

He didn’t bother to wait around for the prisoners to give their assent or dissent. His main goal was surviving this encounter. His secondary goal was stealing one of the ships so he could plunder it for power converters and get The Imperialis up and running again.

Rescuing these people was a very very distant third.

 

[Mig Gred]

Location: Surface
Objective: Free the slaves.
Weapons/armor: Lightsaber Trayc'kal, Echani Vibrosword, Armor
Ship: Basilisk
Allies: Beltran Rarr
Enemies: Natian Sanorge Valdus Bral

Mig practically growled as he saw the mercenary take another shot. Through his cover of sand, Mig focused in, drawing electricity into his hands before leasing it in a ball of energy. A Kinetite-type attack. He aim it towards the mercs before jumping on top of the one responsible for killing the two slaves. He ignited the edges of his lightsaber Trayc'kad, bringing it up.

"Any last words, slaver?" He was distracted by something though. The Mandalorian turned to see a massive being walking forward, one with a familiar signature in the Force. One he knew all too well. The same one from Eshan! Mig quickly moved away from the merc, turning his blade to the being, and flicking his comms. "R10. Get the Basilisk here. Now!" He walked up, clearly ticked off by the mere presence of the one who had just come.

"You know, I've been hunting for you ever since Eshan, and now you randomly show up?" It was then that a set of explosions took him out of his stance, and Mig quickly ran back to where the ships were to avoid being caught in them. He rolled in, pulling as many prisoners out of the path of destruction as he could with the Force. Once finally their, he heard someone talk about getting people out. He turned to him, nodding.

"Honestly thought I was the only one here to help them. If you're getting them out, I'll keep... everything off you."

Meanwhile, at the village, the Basilisk whirled to life as R10, O7, and V1 began to start the ship, and quickly got her off the ground. The three droid were quick to hone in on Mig's location and gunning it to the location. The MC-18 freighter would soon be heard coming over the horizon, ready to strike.