Truculent [SOV Dominion of Orenda]

[Madison M. Maxwell IV]

Species | Planet | Music​

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A PEOPLE DIVIDED​

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While the galaxy is embroiled in the chaos of the Great Galactic War, a corner of Wild Space has been left to the mercy of criminals and thieves.​

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The planet Orenda is home to the nomadic and warlike Saorsa, fiendish near-humans who have been suffering from the oppressive presence of brutal miners, stealing the planet’s naturally-occuring Uranium deposits, for nearly a millennia. Most are content to let the offworlders continue to destroy their planet so long as they don’t interfere with clan business, but lately their advanced neighbours have begun to encroach onto their land and territory, enticing Saorsa to join their slave workforce through coercion.​

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Not everyone is willing to tolerate this anymore.​

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The Sarang Clan, the largest standing ‘army’ present on Orenda, called for a summit of major clan leaders in their territory, the Meraki Plains. The goal of this unprecedented meeting was to ally all of the hostile clans under one banner to fight for their planet’s freedom.​

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This banner is that of the Sovereignty. The heiress to the Sarang dynasty had previously left her homeworld in search of help, and found support in the military-industrial powerhouse to the east. Returning to her homeworld after many years with the promise of pledging the powerful Saorsa to the Sovereignty’s cause once her people were united, she spread her radical message, and nearly all of the tribes rallied to her cry for war and blood.​

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With the various tribes and clans amassed in the plains, they now await the arrival of the promised Sovereignty support, eager to reclaim their homeland…​

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Orenda features ancient Imperial mining fortresses, restored and manned by criminal mining enterprises that have been destroying the planet for years. Without these strongholds, the enemy would be defenseless and scattered, so reclaiming them is imperative. With the support of the Saorsa hordes, Sovereignty ground troops will;

• Lay siege to these citadels
• Free the enslaved miners
• Either capture or kill the administrative staff of these mines
• Terminate any resistance met by mercenaries employed by the enemy

This objective is best suited to: Combat-inclined characters, lawfully-aligned characters, those knowledgeable/interested in siege warfare.

(( For the simplicity of this thread, all those on Objective One will focus on assaulting just one mine, which is indicated below in the spoiler tag with more specific information concerning the location. I ([member=Sekhmet Sarang]) will personally be directing this objective! ))

Spoiler: Additional Information

Spoiler: Additional Information

The Saorsa have prepared a warcamp a few leagues away from the fortress itself, which is where the main bulk of the forces are mingling and preparing, and a landing zone has been cleared for Sovereignty transports. Concerning the target; it's a military installation first and foremost, sporting high durasteel walls topped with spools of barbed wire, looking similar to a modern-day prison complex in the middle of the plains. The locals describe having seen ships -- 'Sky-touchers' -- leave to and from the facility, indicating trading and supply relief, but with the naval fight over Orenda no such activity is currently being seen. Currently, you could feasibly starve ut the enemy; but this would lead to complications concerning the civilians trapped within the fort's mighty walls. Right now the wisest course of action is to storm the walls, and that's exactly what the hordes would like to do.

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Whilst the Saorsa have no knowledge of this, the mining corporations have assembled a mercenary fleet above Orenda to try and counter the impending Sovereignty support. Seeing as the Saorsa are exclusively infantry, it's up to the brave men and woman who pilot and command Sovereign ships to route the enemy. Utilizing their naval might, Sovereignty pilots & admirals will;​

• Blow a hole in the ‘blockade’ of Orenda so troop transports may land
• Prevent the enemy fleet from assisting with the defense planetside
• Drive the mercenaries out of the system through force or tact

This objective is best suited to: Navy-inclined characters, characters skilled in piloting or starfighting, those knowledgeable/interested in boarding/overtaking enemy vessels.

(( No OOC note, says what it does on the tin. Refer to the spoiler for a hex map! ))

Spoiler: Additional Information

Spoiler: Additional Information

The fleet of mercenaries, pirates and various other employed rabble could hardly be considered to be blockading the planet. They simply don't have the ships for it. A handful of cruisers make up the bulk of their firepower-- Most of it comes from retrofitted and upgraded starfighter squads of battle-honed cutthroats that have been hired onto this job. They don't know what's even coming for them.

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In all the history of the Saorsa, never have the clans come together in such a united show of force. This has inevitably led to problems, with the Schiama clan, the third largest Saorsa horde, threatening to sit out the fight for Orenda if they are forced to fight alongside Exile tribes, unofficial packs of those who were outcast from Saorsa society. This causes a huge problem as the force on the ground would lose a significant portion of the most knowledgeable Saorsa healers, engineers and warriors if this happens. In an effort to placate their allies, Sovereignty diplomats will;

• Attempt to reassure the rebellious clan leaders that all is well
• Persuade the Schiama to remain within their alliance
• Try to get the clan leadership to play nice with the Exile tribes

This objective is best suited to: Diplomacy-inclined characters, those looking to avoid a direct fight, rogue-types.

(( [member="Amadi the Banished"] is running point on this objective, so look out for his posts concerning it. Information below! ))

Spoiler: Additional Information

The Schiama clan is the most disgruntled at this tentative alliance in the name of freeing Orenda, and having to fight alongside exiles? That's the last straw. While they should be fighting, the Schiama are instead locking horns with your 'nice-speakers' over joining the fray at all. The Schiama family themselves are feeling personally insulted, and so are the families that follow them, so I hope you brought a housewarming gift...

Spoiler: Additional Information

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Spoiler: Tagged Faction Members

[member="Aeric Saigo"] [member="Ahdaka"] [member="Alexandra Feanor"] [member="Arador Kahn"] [member="Arken Lussk"] [member="Arlen Rossi"] [member="Avi Soltani"] [member="Cassus Stoma"] [member="Cato Marek"] [member="Cynan Hague"] [member="Dinah Vekarr"] [member="Dom Sicarius"] [member="Koda Fett"] [member="Varik Ice"] [member="Roella Arwyn"] [member="Shaun Irons"] [member="Skorvek"] [member="Thom Betna"] [member="Urwin Darmos"] [member="Vestille Thumahra"] [member="Zedd Harkor"]

 

[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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The thrill. It never got old.

Sekhmet wore a grin that would have put a Loth-cat to shame, basking in the self-adoration she could feel as easily as the sun's rays. She perched on an outlook, below her was a vast city of tents; various colours and patterns blending together into a weaving mess of cultures and clans. In the back of her mind, something old mused that this would never again happen in her lifetime. Never could they be rallied for an alliance such as this again, to fight for a common cause. They had put their faith in her.

And it was all because of her, as well. That thought sent a quick spasm down Sekhmet's back, a dance of thrill that only widened her smirk. She hadn't expected it to be easy, but the challenge hadn't been too difficult either. Her people simply adored the idea of bloodsport, after all.

Even though it had only been a few days since she'd returned to Orenda, she could picture her reunion as if it had just freshly happened. Her mother embracing her tightly and whispering blessings in a language she couldn't pretend to know, while she locked horns with her father in a playful gesture that reminded her of her youth. And, most importantly, of how those two powerful figures had waited and listened to the stories she had to tell, patient like predators lying in wait.

She had spoken of the worlds beyond their skies, and of the Sovereignty, and how they were now coming to help them take back their planet. Her parents had baulked at those plans originally, questioning her judgement on assaulting the offworlders. But they'd seen reason, too. Just as Sekhmet had shown that wisdom to all the tribes who had gathered to their summons at the Meraki Plains.

There was no denying it. It felt good to be home. It felt even better to be fighting soon.

Their schedule was almost up, and soon the Sovereignty fleet would be entering Orenda's system. While her family and clansmen didn't understand those words when she spoke them, Sekhmet did; hopefully, right on time, her allies would be here and they'd begin. Organizing a planet-wide offence hadn't been easy, but the Saorsa were surprisingly good at listening when they had a common goal in mind. The bulk of the Sarang forces were gathered to the north of the planet, to lay siege to one of the larger mines.

What could possibly be going through the minds of the supervisors there? Never had a horde this large get this close to their facilities before, and it was clear they were hostile. Perhaps they were preparing for what was about to come, though there was no way they could anticipate the arrival of the Sovereignty and their troops.

Or, she thought bitterly, maybe they're running. If they ran, I'll cut them down for the cowards they are all the same.

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Spoiler: Interacting With

Nobody yet

 

[Itash Mecetti]

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

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Tash yawned.

They were on a hill, overlooking the 'Saorsa' War Camp, it was him and one of the horned ones. He had been contracting out by the Sovereignty to assist with the efforts on this new world. Orenda. No matter how large your military was, there was always room for a little more. Just a few more good, willing men with guns and no conscience. Didact Defense Solutions was willing to assist for the right amount of coin. Right now they were assigned to this... person.

Semhet?

No, there was a K in there somewhere. Seket? The Tapani wasn't entirely too sure, but it was something in that ballpark. They were to follow any directives she had- Itash wasn't sure if she had what it took to properly use his Words.

But supposedly they'd find out soon enough.

"How many of yours are here?" Itash finally asked, stretching just a little bit and looking away from the endless sea of tents towards the female. She was definitely female. Softer forms, he had shared a drink with one of their males the other day. They packed a fine right punch. "Looks like a forest of tents." Tash wouldn't judge the Sovereignty for their alliance with these people. Oh, they were barbarians, but even they had some usage he guessed.

As long as Didact got paid for helping them expand here?

Tash wouldn't really mind one way or another.

[member="Sekhmet Sarang"]

 

[Varik Ice]

Varik Ice​

Equipment: Lightsaber - Armour​

Location: Orenda​

Objective: 1​

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As Varik waited aboard the X-70C, he wondered how close they had been to being spotted on their entry. True, other, larger vessels would be arriving in the system soon and clearing the way into atmosphere, but he wanted to be there early, at the brunt of things. Most Saorsa would never know, but he was like them, in many ways. In some aspects, his people and planet reminded him of home. Sitting down and staring at the floor, he wondered if it was such a good thing to remember.

His eyes darted up as he heard the sound of the ship's landing. Coming from his quarters with his helmet underarm, he motioned to the pilot to stay. He was relatively out of sight, and he could always retreat if necessary. Stepping down the ramp, Varik felt wind on his face, even if there wasn't much to it for someone like him. Raising his helmet, he carefully placed it back over his head. Stepping up the incline to the top of a hill, the robes around his armour billowed. Finally, he reached the top and stared at the sight, with some Saorsa looking back at him.

The Sovereign's gaze went over the camp, the different sized tents and sea of encampments flooding his vision. He took in the multiple colours of flags, ribbons and adornments that covered the tents, and some caught his eye in ways he didn't get. He saw flashes, of...something. A face, once he couldn't discern, but he knew it was there. It was odd, and he couldn't place it. He felt something intense grip him as he smelled...iron and sulphur. Like a smelter.

And then it was gone. As he continued to stare from the hilltop, seemingly at the fortress in the distance, many Saorsa looked at him with curiosity. Maybe they had figured out who he was, why he was there; or perhaps he was simply an odd curiosity. Booted feet came marching down as Varik reached the bottom and went right through into the camp, moving past Saorsa without a shred of hesitation.

He wondered if it surprised them. Most humans would find them intimidating - he did not. They were not savages to him, not simple people with good hearts. They were people, with an honourable way and a desire to fight for their home, and that was the end of it. It was once he neared the centre of the camp that he actually did begin to stare towards the fortress. It didn't seem so daunting as he'd been told. He had faith in his people, and Orenda's.

[member="Roella Arwyn"]

 

[Cassus Stoma]

Cassus Stoma​

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Unknown, Orenda, Caldron Sector, Wild Space​

Objective 1: Assault the Uranium Mines​

Music​

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Infiltration. That was the aim of this operation, to land under the cover of darkness with the guise of being yet another flock of asteroids that crashed into the planet below. It was difficult, but being an AECO Trooper was never easy, that much Cassus had become acutely aware of. To soar past a mercenary fleet as if they were a rock was a... bold plan but one that needed to be achieved nevertheless. He had his doubts, and whether the more seasoned veterans did as well, he wasn't sure. Stoma never asked, and it was unlikely he ever would. The man didn't wish to seem like a coward.

Through the viewport of the drop-pod he gleaned left and right, seeing the other members of this team from beneath his polarised visor. The face of his commanding officer for this assignment was visible upon a small screen within the pod, able to speak at a normal level as there was truly no sound within the void. The asteroids all around them shifting about, causing for minor adjustments to be made in the time being. The team was undetected as of yet; so far so good.

An orangey-red glow began to encompass the drop-pod as they entered the atmosphere of the planet, the roaring sounds of re-entry taking the complete attention of each and everyone's ear-drums. An increasing amount of adjustments were required to be made as the asteroids shuffled back and forth, left and right, and it seemed most unfortunate once Cassus had found himself with nowhere to go. The moment he had directed his pod to the left, an asteroid from the right colliding with him at a terribly costly pace. Knocked off course, and considerably so. The steering didn't work, and so call the young man could do was brace himself for whatever he may find down there.

A dense wetlands awaited his arrival, the pod screeching through as the sound of wood splintering, rocks crumbling and the mud splashing could be heard, as well as fleeing wildlife and metallic collisions. After that, it was the pitter patter of rain colliding with the pod's viewport with an assortment of groans coming from the man within.

This hadn't gone as planned, but one thing was for certain: it was going to be a hell of a night.

 

[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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Deep inside of her, Sekhmet sighed. She didn't dare vocalize it or indicate it through any change in breathing pattern, it was internalized. But it was still there.

Something about that man was testing her limits, and those limits didn't appreciate it. Collecting herself all the same, the Saorsa turned her horned head to look up at Itash with an expression of aloof calm, "Here? Easily 30,000 if I had to estimate. My clan is large on its own, but with the support of the others..." Blowing a piece of her white-gold hair away from her eyes, those shimmering gold irises turned back down to the swathe of tent peaks, watching as the Sovereignty troops began to slowly trickle in from their ships, "Our numbers can grow exponentially."

Her mastery over Basic was something she prided in, the grin grew a little more impish. As if adding to that look of a devil, her forked tail idly twitched from where it had been laying in the dry grass. Rolling her shoulders, the stocky-yet-short warrior hopped to her feet and stretched, turning to face him with that same self-confident smile, "If the Sovereignty are here, then we can get underway shortly." That idea clearly excited Sekhmet, a certain dangerous glint in her eye as she started to move past Itash, down the escarpment she had been precariously perched on before.

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Spoiler: Interacting With

[member="Itash Mecetti"]

 

[Itash Mecetti]

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

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Perhaps it was the fact that when Tash looked at her he didn't... *see* her. He saw her horns, saw her tail, saw every other mark that put her out of the ordinary. But when their eyes met? There was none of the recognition one sentient being would have for another.

He might as well have been studying an elephant and how to best slaughter it for its ivory.

"I am sure it can." Tash softly retorted while watching her pace away. A moment later the Tapani followed and with him came his Words. Six attached to Sekmah or whatever, the rest currently scouting and otherwise supporting the effort.

"How do you want to approach this?"

Might also be the fact that he hadn't yet referred her with her name. Not even once. Because you needed to actually know it and not forget before that could happen.

They approached the camp and Tash couldn't help but notice how much like a settlement it was.

This wasn't temporary for them... it was a way of life.

[member="Sekhmet Sarang"]

 

[Lemon]

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Koda Fett​

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Saorsa War Camp, Merako Plains Orenda, Caldron Sector, Wild Space​

Objective 1: Assault the Uranium Mines​

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This planet was new. As an intergalactic bounty hunter one would travel to a wide array of systems for one purpose or another, yet it usually came down to the simple task of 'work', rarely if ever did this individual cater himself to pleasure. He was a busy man with a reputation to uphold, and it wasn't as if there were many things outside of a fight that brought him true pleasure. In truth, there was nothing greater than being locked in combat - especially when you were destined to win, which oddly enough, happened to be the vast majority of fights Koda Fett had found himself within. Others he had to truly work for it. Perhaps it was something he had in common with the Saorsa, they both lived for a fight, yet the end game was far different to each other. Credits, and honor. Some say they can't be intertwined. Fett thought otherwise.

Perceptive eyes looked to and fro at the beasts that were the Saorsa and their War Camp, something was brewing and whence it toppled over the Mandalorian would be apart of it. Though for the creatures of this planet this war meant something else, it meant their freedom, whilst to Fett it meant more credits. Something one could never have too many of, but if such a thing was possible, Fett would certainly have too much.

It was beneath his booted feet that the dirt crumbled as he waded about in his protective set of armor, the very one few had seen him without. As far as they were concerned, he was just a sentient piece of armor. Though as he had gone about his business, merely waiting, a Saorsa female had approached him. She was shorter than he, but certainly would prove to make up for it in bravery. It was odd to be looked up and down by a brutish beast as if he were a Twi'lek Dancer, but all the Mandalorian did in return was look back.

A few words came from her mouth, giving a vague explanation of what was about to happen that ultimately left Koda in the dark and unaware of what was to happen next. Meaty hands were placed upon his shoulders, firmly gripping them before she moved in such a manner that would end with throwing the Mandalorian. He collided with the dirt, tearing through it before rising back up onto his feet. Was he to shoot her? No, of course not, this must be a ritual of some sorts - evident by the Saorsa that would watch with entertained expressions. But as this 'challenger' charged it's way in the direction of the Bounty Hunter he reared back his arm before delivering a fist into it's face, one that was far stronger than it had any right to be.

It collapsed to the ground and quite frankly struggled to reach it's feet once more, disorientated and confused. It was due to the fact that Fett wore Crushgaunts, a glove that would enhance his strength incredibly. Designed to crush throats, shatter bone and had even been used to embed hands into a starship believe it or not. It was afterwards that Fett walked away, returning to his business albeit slightly disgruntled and questioning whether this was the right decision to make, despite the credits. The display had gone to show that technology would always beast a primitive savage.

 

[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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She paid little attention to the 6 fighters shadowing her, but it wasn't as though they were being ignored -- It just seemed as though Sekhmet wasn't all that interested in their presence. Shrugging at Itash's question, she was already neck deep in the winding streets of the near-settlement before she deigned to reply to it. On occasion, a Saorsa decorated in similar red roping to Sekhmet's own would raise their hands or even dip their horns in greeting to the Lioness, who managed awkward smiles back. Those of different colors and denominations only stared and sneered, but didn't overtly offer disrespect. That was enough for her. So long as no open challenges to her authority or honour were issued, she let them glare and gossip.

"Now that most of our allies are here, we'll just have to discuss strategy then jump right into it, I guess. If we sit here too long, well, either we'll end up killing each other--" Before she could finish, a pair of roving males pushed in front of the small group, horns locked in a brief and vicious round of melee combat. But soon enough the larger of the two had fully plowed his opponent clear to the other side of the muddy 'road', clearing the way, and Sekhmet continued on both walking and talking without even missing a heartbeat, almost an amused expression on her face from the sudden clash, "--Or, we'll lose our momentum, stagnate in attacking. Then end up killing each other."

It was hard to miss the entertainment in her voice that the idea of a gigantic spontaneous fight breaking out brought. Of course, it had deeply troubling connotations for the future of the Saorsa-Sovereignty alliance, but at the same time... What a brawl that'd be. Nodding her head a few times in thought, she glanced back up to the mercenary with the same animalistic eyes as before, "But what do you think?"

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Spoiler: Interacting With

[member="Itash Mecetti"]

 

[Zedd Harkor]

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Lord Admiral Zedd Harkor​

Royal Chambers, Citadel, Eadu​

Objective: 2​

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NPohCOJDX20​

Another day at the office.

The Office of Naval Intelligence, that was. Lord Admiral Zedd Harkor, sat in a chair, at a briefing table that coated a variety of high-ranking Sovereign Navy Officers. Some old, some young. Some sharp-looking, some with bags under their eyes from sleep deprivation. Admittedly, Harkor was looking a touch scruffy and tired himself – and indeed he was. He’d been working around the clock to secure the expansionary acts of the Sovereignty. Regardless of any of their disposition and appearance, they were all here to oversee the strategic implantation of another sector group. One of the problems that stood in their way, was a civilian-organized, so-called “Miner Fleet”, composed of mercenaries, pirates, and of course, miners. A Sovereign Navy task force, composed of star destroyers, cruisers, frigates, and the sort, had been dispatched to deal with the civilian incursion.

He couldn’t be out there leading the charge all the time. His position of power called for him to take a backseat – at least once in a while, anyway. Now was that time. There was no need to place himself in harm’s way for such a minor issue. All that was needed was a show of force, and a taskforce picketed with star destroyers would certainly do the trick for a couple of impudent civilians that dare challenge the militant might of the Sovereignty. The naval task force would be led by Commodore Allisha Gisk, someone Harkor had placed a good deal of professional faith in. They had formally met in one of the many governments Harkor had worked for, and ever since recognizing her competence, Harkor made her apart of his more senior naval staff.

It wasn't before long, before a holo-projector that was placed in the center of the table received a communications request from an external holonet transceiver near the Orenda System. Harkor, assertive, was the first to speak up; "Open communications.", spoke of Harkor, as one of the officers around the circumference of the table silently pressed a few miscellaneous holo-projected keys on his portable terminal. The cause and effect resulted in a feminine figure in a Sovereign Navy Uniform being brought up as a holo-projection in the middle of the table. It was none other than Commodore Allisha Gisk, as she introduced herself; "Officers. Task Force Wesk will be exiting hyperspace in T-minus five minutes.". It was a simple status check, nothing more. Regardless, Harkor spoke up, again, "Good. Keep us updated.", spoke Harkor, in a calm, albeit dreadful tone of voice, due to his tiredness and lack of energy - although, Harkor was never one to be bustling with energy in the first place; "Naval Intelligence anticipates minor resistance. Cruisers will serve as their main battle line, but their objective is to impede on the Sovereignty's efforts ground-side. That's not happening. Give them a show of force, and that the Sovereignty will not stand for impudence."

 

[Cassus Stoma]

Cassus Stoma​

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Wetlands, Orenda, Caldron Sector, Wild Space​

Objective 1: Assault the Uranium Mines​

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It was within the pod that Cassus witnessed four red lights form, scattered about but he knew their intention. He had trained for this, but truth be told it was never something he had expected. Separated, and however far he was he did not know. At least not yet. The young man's right hand had curled into a fist before slamming it down upon each red button, hearing the beep it emitted whilst it turned green. A gaseous hiss came after striking all four, and it was then that the pod door flew off with speed. Yet as it did the pod flew backwards and out from underneath the AECO as he fell face-first into the mud. It made sense now, he was pressed against something, odd of him to just neglect such a key detail but nevertheless he was alright. For now.

Cassus trudged his way through the mud before giving a heave and a hoe, prying the blasters from the spacecraft that then fell into familiar hands. Lightning cracked above with a thunderous applaud, and it was at that moment he had realized this location was... empty. Nothing remained, either from the harsh weather or perhaps the space-man who had crashed down below had caused them to flee. He hadn't know, but at the very least he wasn't going to be attacked by some savage animal for now.

Technology seemed to be working against Stoma as well, his communications were met with static, and his map displayed nothing but a scrambled image too far gone to make sense of. He was in the dark, both figuratively and literally. Yet at the very least his low-light vision remained functional for the time-being. He could see, that was a plus.

Whether he was forced to trek this terrain alone, or someone would come looking for him, Cassus did not know. All he had to hold onto know was hope.

 

[Roella Arwyn]

Orenda
Saorsa War-Camp
Objective One

The chestnut mare between her legs snorted as she slowed it to a walk, approaching the Saorsa war camp. Behind her, seventy five Talravani knights did the same, each bearing the rose sigil of Roella's Roses on their cloaks. The princess examined the camp. It was decent, for something of this nature. She had been along on some sieges on Talravin, when minor Houses waged war on each other, and the crown stepped in. Her mother had beleived seeing these events up close would benefit her war-mongering child. And she had certainly been right.

As Roella's mare clopped through the camp, she could feel the Saorsa's gaze on her. It was natural, she supposed. A young woman with the hair of the rose and the armor of gold was a strange sight to them, she was sure. They certainly didn't have much in the way of culture or civlization, as far as she could see. But that was why they were here. To unite the Saorsa people under the Sovereignty, and bring them into the fold. Orenda would make a good vassal state for the growing kingdom.

On her back, the sun shone off of Dawn, her songsteel shield, and the pommel of Thorne, her songsteel blade. It thirsted for blood, more than her own, for once. And if this went the way she hoped, then blood it would have. In spades. She chuckled to herself. It was almost a tragedy to visit the Sovereign wrath upon these criminals, for they had no way to be prepared.

When she came to the center of the camp, she spotted the High Sovereign, [member="Varik Ice"], himself. She smiled, and brought her horse to a stop behind him.

"Your Grace! A fine day for a siege, no? I am eager to deliver Talravani justice upon these criminals."

 

[Itash Mecetti]

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

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[member="Sekhmet Sarang"]​

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Head tilted at the sight of those two fighting each other.

But Tash had his business and as long as Sekhmet- ! That was it. Sekhmet. What an odd name. As long as she didn't decide to wade into a brawl or two, forcing him to pull her out by her horns or tail or whatever, it would presumably all be fine. But all of this - the dirty, sandy roads and the combative animals told him exactly what the Sovereignty seemed to be ignoring. Or maybe they were just using the situations to their advantage right now and would push forward with the logical course of action.

Glassing this camp and everyone in it.

That would have been his take on the situation- these creatures were incompatible with the lawful order imposed by this fledgling nation. It would all end in tears otherwise, tears and rage and blood and hatred, but Tash was just the man with the right red hand. "Could draw it out to a siege, 'suppose." He retorted instead. There was no sense in saying: Oh, I'd glass the lot of ya and let the ashes and scarecrows deal with the last things remaining. "You got the numbers, got the terrain, got a supply line and air superiority."

A shrug followed.

"But when you start throwing wave after wave against their defenses? They gonna get slaughtered first. It will become a war of attrition."

That wasn't Tash's problem, of course. He wasn't gonna be the one at the frontlines after all. Not in the first few waves anyway. "My move? Sneak in. Pour over the blueprints until you find a weakness they haven't found and plugged yet." Shouldn't be difficult- they weren't natives, weren't Imperials. Criminal scum wasn't exactly known for their thoroughness. "Get in unseen, cut them down while they aren't expecting you, open the gates and let your slaughter begin."

At this point Tash had rolled a cigarette and let it rest easily between teeth.

It was already smoking.

"That's what I'd do anyway."

 

[Zef Halo]

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


While larger ships would have a hard time going through the miners' blockade, the Cadia - a light and agile freighter with the navigator at command was able to pierce through it and land at the siege camp. After his fateful meeting with his sister, Roella, on Kubindi, Saul found a good opportunity to get paid by contracting himself to a rising nation in the region - The Sovereignty. His expertise and experience gained by serving in the One Sith Navy was perhaps deemed worthy by the decision makers of the government's military granting him an impromptu close air support coordinator/advisor role for this siege. Thus here he was, among native aliens and other Sovereignty assets, discussing siege strategies.

The tall blonde carefully listened, refraining from giving any advice when the thematic was the ground forces. When one of the mercenaries - Mecetti? - finished giving his piece of mind, Saul came in nodding in agreement.

"I am in agreement. The Cadia and what little odd mix of ships we have here can provide a distraction opposite of where you find your infiltration location." He said assertively. "It's a risky maneuver, with the AAs set up in a well placed perimeter. So you have to be quick and sharp."

Saul didn't feel like risking casualties with the small contigent of air support they had.

 

[Varik Ice]

Varik Ice​

Equipment: Lightsaber - Armour​

Location: Orenda​

Objective: 1​

​

​

​

Varik continued to stare forward at the fortress, trying to focus. It was bothering him again. Now he could smell...salt, and hear rain. It felt like Kamino. He saw lightning flashes, and eyes staring at him from multiple directions. Someone was...chanting something, who was it? It wasn't a Saorsa. Amidst it all, he heard a couple of voices that sounded familiar, but he couldn't place it. Even as he seemed still as a statue in the camp, he was trying to reach out, see who-

A voice brought him back, just for a moment, and it was gone. He recognized Roella's voice behind him, even before she mentioned Talravin. Varik turned to look at the Princess and her companions, looking them over from underneath his helmet, trying to determine how good they were. He could see from their stances, even on their mounts that they were used to conflict and had trained repeatedly for wars and battles that may never come.

"It is. It's good to see you, Roella." He was more friendly with her than he tended to be with others, but he found her company more tolerable than most others. Or pretty much anyone else, he had to consider. He still wasn't sure why that was. As he looked at her and her Knights' equipment, he wondered how hard this siege would be for them - it wasn't designed for horses, nor swords and shields. Regardless, he knew they would try their hardest anyway, and he respected them for it.

"It shouldn't be long now. We'll have this place soon."

[member="Roella Arwyn"]

 

[Madison M. Maxwell IV]

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

Play With Fire​

​

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​

​

i've always liked to play with fire.​

​

​

Before she could reply to Itash, the other one cut in. Saul, was it? He'd been quiet up until now. Listening with a patience seemingly beyond her spitfire years Sekhmet nodded in consideration of what the two seniors said, crossing her arms over her chest as they had lulled in movement, standing in the middle of the swarmed roads. On occasion, one could spot a Sovereignty soldier or two beginning to mingle uncertainly with the natives, engaging in conversation about the upcoming fight, too. Comparing weapons, comparing tactics. Camaraderie blooming between the two very different factions, even if the roots were slow to take.

"You both make good points. Very good points," That loth-cat smile returned, briefly revealing those wicked rows of teeth, "Those forts have been here almost a millennia. Chances are someone got their hands on plans for one."

"But we should find the Sovereignty command, I'm sure they're around here somewhere."

Sekhmet didn't wait for her two companions to retort her remarks before she kept moving through the growing settlement. While her back was turned she was able to breathe, practically -- They didn't make her nervous on a surface level. She'd spent 6 years living among them in Wild Space, after all, she knew what these people were like. The way that they looked at her now gave her stomach summersaults. Before, off of Orenda, these foreigners had just been people, and she had just been a person too, and everything had seemed to make sense. Now that she was back and had brought the aliens with her, she never felt more strongly the fact that they really weren't the same at all. She only took comfort in the events of those around her, witnessing a slow and gradual meshing of Sovereignty and Saorsa cultures. Perhaps that was a sign they could co-exist.

​

​

Spoiler: Interacting With

[member="Itash Mecetti"] [member="Saul Ferasi"] -- ( Also maybe [member="Varik Ice"] & @Roella Arywn )

 

[Itash Mecetti]

(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"]​

​

​

Arwyn was a more welcome presence in a camp filled with barely restrained animals.

Noble birth as far as Tash knew, it was in the set of his hands, shoulders, the way the eye looked. It was bespoke of nobility and that was one thing that Lord Itash of House Mecetti would always respect. The quiet dignity of nobility, it was not something you were taught. You were either born with it, your blood was either right or it was not.

And that was the end of that.

"Of course." He had more faith in the Sovereignty. Oh, by the sounds of it they weren't led by especially nobleborn individuals, but they were humans at the least. Tash was still holding out hope that once the operations were finished and the planet was theirs... that they'd turn against these... sentients. Maybe something would change Itash's mind in the long run. But right now Tash had not yet seen anything that would make that likely.

They walked more, passing by numerous Saorsa. Different sashes, different colors, some of them acting with respect to the one Tash was supposed to protect, some with less than respect.

None stepped against her though.

Which allowed Tash to simply ignore it.

But soon enough the three and six found their way to the edge of the camp that had a good vantage point of the fortress-facility they were supposed to be taking. There were... horses? Lots of soldiers clustered around here, but that was to be expected. Their king was here, after all. Tash inclined his head a fraction- he still wasn't sure just how much nobility was in this man's blood.

Itash remained silent though.

This was a job, he was not here in the vein as a Tapani Lord. Just as a business man providing a service. Sekhmet would have the pleasure of exchanging pleasantries with the King.

 

[Vestille Thumahra]

Grand Commander Vestille Thumahra​

1st Legion Group​

Orenda​

851 ABY​

Objective #4 - Strike the Reinforcement Convoy​

Post One​

Theme​

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---

---

The plains were quiet, for the most part, all save for one valley.

The mining operations had been working non-stop for years, the hands of those on the wrong side of the law holding the whip that drove the workforce forward. Cruel but effective, something that criminals seemed to have a mixed-bag of results on. Criminals were vermin, seeking only to put themselves and themselves only in the history books, everyone else just being a means to an end or an asset to be cut off when the weight shadowed the usefulness. To take this and see a full fledged mining operation, it took the Grand Commander by surprise. Vermin working together to reach a common goal of riches and fame, it was surprising to say the least, that this group of criminals had been able to get away with their schemes for so long. No doubt they had accumulated quite the fortune and had allowed the greed to fester in their collective heads like a parasite, going as far to suggest that their claims were legitimate as well as the businesses that gave them such a high pedestal. Vermin and parasites, both as degenerate as one another. The battle plans had been laid, the mines were to be shut down; facilities, personnel and fleet, the collected scourge upon the planet had to be dealt with.

Their little game could go on no longer.

Down upon the planet's surface, a large convoy of criminal reinforcements and supplies were coming from a supply stockpile kept out of sight and mind of those who weren't part of the pack. It was routine, every week or so a convoy would make its trips around the facilities and deliver supplies, armaments and personnel off towards their designated posts. This stockpile, effectively, was what had kept the operation running for as long as it had. When they had heard that the Sovereignty had come to their front door, however, the panic began to spread like wildfire. Those who had men and women's backs to stand upon began to get anxious and so called fourth the largest convoy they had ever sent. A long and seemingly steady stream of transports, escort vehicles and air support could be heard for miles as the rolling thunder pushed their way across the tundras and the plains, adamant to deliver their cargo and keep whatever the foreign visitors wanted as far away from them as possible. Or dead, knowing shifty business practices and vermin mixed together, no doubt a handshake would be made with one hand, a knife hidden behind their back with the other.

In a matter of hours, those transports would have reached their destination and delivered the heaviest load they had ever hauled. They were being watched, however.

With the singular road, it made bringing vehicles along a difficult task to achieve without things being complicated. It took some favors, more than a few, but as the convoy traveled, so did the spectators. Men in black and gold, their capes flowing in the wind, atop their mounts. As the convoy's process was tracked, the scouts returned the large gathering. Vestille had no doubt paid a good fortune for enough horses to mount his entire Legion Group, calling in favors with as many people as he could. The Grand Commander was not one for diplomacy, a fact that was known from day one with his time within Sovereignty Space; hell, the man was uncompromising when it came to requests and orders. Yet there he was, sat atop a beast alongside his men, all armed with various weaponry. Alongside the standard blasters, many of the men's rigging was filled with anti-vehicle ordinance consisting of grenades and among the horde of cavalry, some were even seen carrying anti-tank weapons with a blaster safely within their holster. Unknowingly to the large convoy that continued on its journey, they were soon to meet a tragedy upon the road.

The Legion Group had been split into two, one section at either side of the valley. It wasn't long before the Grand Commander ordered the men to prepare. As the radio call went out by one of his subordinates, the sound of hooves began to rumble. The lines of cavalry at either side began to prepare themselves for the mission ahead. There was no grand strategy to the plan, there didn't need to be. The opposing force was mobile, unable to mount a static defense, that made the mobility of the horses allow them to keep moving and avoid the heavier fire of the supporting elements that guarded the convoy and escorted it to its various waypoints on its course. The air support was going to be the main problem, the gunships that had been assigned as overwatch, two in number, would no doubt have the ability to rain fire from the skies. It was a wonder how the air units had not spotted the hordes gathering either side, perhaps the crew simply weren't expecting to be met with such resistance so soon into their trip. Their 'nest' being a secret, in their minds.

That was soon to be proven wrong.

"Fire."

At the simple order, rockets flew into the sky by those carrying the missile launchers, slamming into the two gunships and sending them off course, their munitions exploding with a thunderous alarm to those down below as the wrecks slammed into the ground. In those few seconds of confusion and disarray, the next order came;

"CHARGE!"

The thunder rolled over the tops of the hills towards the convoy below; blasters began firing and additional missiles filled the air, slamming into various vehicles and setting them aflame with a glorious flash and bang that echoed across the valley. It took a few seconds before the convoy began to return fire towards the charging, screaming swarms that came from both sides.

Today would be a red day.

 

[Cynan Hague]

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

​

Oh how fun this would be, it sent chills down Cynan's very spine as he sat proudly in front of his men, their clandestine mission formally and robotically cited by the ONI agent. Their goal was simple, to insert themselves into the hostile siege-camp, courtesy of ancient plans to the facility, acquired all too effortlessly by their newfound brothers in arms. The agent droned on and on in detail, but Cynan had long since drowned him out, a few of the worlds alone rung in his mind.

"Infiltrate. Disrupt. Destroy. Mayhem is the name of the game."

The thought alone excited him, his moment had arrived, destiny - at least a morsel of it - was upon them. A toothy grin grew under his now-transparent helmet, he hated waiting, but it was the calm before the storm, and brother, Cynan was the storm. The sieging forces needed a distraction, a way in, they needed general disruptive ruckus on scales the likes of which only an orbital bombardment or an AECO team could truly and wholeheartedly accomplish.

If Cynan could love, this was the time, this mission was perfection put to speech.

The vessel was a hive of activity, just so freshly having exited hyperspace the cruiser which found itself home to several AECO teams was struggling to keep up, a meteor shower was beholden to the planet below, it was the perfect cover - the streaks of orange and vibrant tails of reds and yellows streaking the pristine sky was certain to prove an ample home for the AECO.
Team 12 had been assigned their mission, they had already been so directly briefed by ONI, now they rushed for their pods, simple pods of steel, designed to survive the hell of atmospheric entry and deliver their lethal payload. Inside each, the AECOs found a seat and a control panel, to which each had been so delicately trained. The systems and displays inside lit up like the battlefield they would soon create, each displaying a horde of readouts and data feeds - it meant only one thing, Cynan gripped at the control stick with excited terror, this part was always the best and worst of it.

True of aim and precise of intent the pods ripped through the skies above, joining the brilliant display in the sky, those below of sufficient knowledge could look up above and know with certainty their comrades were above, impossible to be late to the party - they hadn't started it yet.

Several klicks away from their target in an opening between two hilly passes, ten scorched pods crashed down into hard soil and rock. The front doors blasted off with fury, the team departing onto their newest conquest.

A single hoarse voice speaks into the radio, Cynan gleeful as could be despite the churning of his stomach at the experience of the ride "It's a lovely day for rain."
This was code, a single message meant for command on closed and hushed lines, it could mean only one thing, their mission was underway.

 

[Amadi the Bansihed]

Amadi the Banished

---

Schiama Clan territory, Orenda, Chrysos system, Wild Space.
Objective 3: Lead the wayward flock.
Interacting with: none.

---

​

---

War drums. Growls and roars. Five Saorsi warriors, adorned with the mark of the exile, strode down the central path of the Schiama encampment, surrounded by tens - almost hundreds - of Schiama clansmen. One clansmen leaned too far forward, meeting a roar from an exile on the flank as the party continued; another reached out to swat at an exile, the gesture returned with the pole of a great-axe. At the front of the formation stood the nobility of the exiles: Amadi of the dead Ini-herit clan, adorned in weapons and armor from beyond the black veil.

"Amadi!" roared a voice, the crowd of clansmen now coming to a circle. In the center of it stood a Saorsi that stood a head above the rest, bearing the mark of a warlord on his shoulder. "If our women manage to beat you, will you do us a favor and flee like a coward a second time?"
"Hilarious." snorted Amadi, taking a few steps away from his entourage to square his shoulders to the rival warlords. "If I were not here to negotiate for the Sovereignty, I would take those horns from your head and drive them into your eyes. At least then you would find your supposed 'glory'." Irritated, the two lashed forward, almost meeting foreheads midst growls and quiet roars before eventually stepping back.
"Our chieftain will not see you today." declared the warlord, now starting to stride back towards his tent. "He has no interest in your forsaken ilk."
"Do not run from me!" boomed Amadi, stepping after him. "We are not done here!"

From the crowd, a quieter face let out a quiet snort. An opportunity.