The Onyx Invasion (MT, IC, Hide Your Virgins!)

[The Onyx Horde]

"Peace isn't a permanent state. It exists in moments. Fleeting. Gone before we knew it was there ... " (Grey's Anatomy)

So it was once more, men stood on the threshold of chaos after some time of relative peace and recovery. To welcome it would be foolish. To deny it would be equally foolish, such the many who stood here now, on the cliffs dividing the Horde from the outside world, could agree upon at the very least. Not to say it was the feelings all shared all around, every one of them being their own man or woman, but still.

A town lay beneath them; quaint, peaceful, rich through trade with the world at large... The country the townspeople swore allegiance to was much like it in all those regards. Small, humble, rich; weak, decadent, begging for trouble. And, of course, what neighbors would the Onyxians be were they to allow their neighbors to remain so desperately vulnerable? If they did not intervene now, then it would only be a matter of time before one of their less fortunate neighbors grew jealous of this tiny nation's stunning success on the world market, and plunge these blissfully ignorant peoples into a reign of tyranny and oppression which would beg a savior of some kind. In such a harsh, uncaring world, would the Horde not be justified in a little preemptive intervention?

Such were the thoughts of Yesui Noyan, the youngest woman to command a Tumen, the highest of honours in the Onyx Horde. A number of lesser Noyan had answered her call to arms, and the Khan himself endorsed her proposed "intervention" into the lands of their neighbors. By this time in two weeks, the whole country would be brought to its knees. What little it could muster in the way of an army was hardly worth mentioning, and its people had no doubt heard stories of the Horde from refugees of earlier conquests, fleeing the mountains which now belonged to the Horde.

Enough reminiscing, though... such were the Noyan's thoughts as she gave the signal, having a nearby beacon lit. Her men and women began descending the cliffs wherever possible, the fires of other beacons cutting through the darkness, signs that the other Noyan and their own men were on the move. Yesui pitied the townspeople for but a moment, were they the more rebellious sort. On the same side of that coin, however, she relished the idea of a good fight. There was little glory in a bloodless surrender, after all.

---

"... Reports from the small nation of Daquestan confirm there has been an invasion after all. The country is powerless to stop this aggressive occupation. Its armed forces are putting up little to no resistance, and much of the country, including the capital, has fallen into the hands of the so-called 'Onyx Horde'. The Government-in-exile is petitioning the international community for immediate assistance..."

Nobody was present to watch the television left running, the family which failed to flee when they had the chance standing outside now, watching as the Onyxian victory parade marched down the streets of what was once the Daquestani capital. They carried with them the severed heads of several Daquestani generals and government officials, as well as the country's flag, tattered and torn horribly. Whether in the heat of battle, or at the hands of these invaders, one could not rightfully say.

The mounted men and women of the Horde marched proudly, to no cheer other than their own. The people weren't sure how to feel; their homes were still intact, and hadn't been looted or shelled thus far... Even still, it was quite clear these men were invading, and for no apparent reason at that! Their only hope at this point would be for foreign aid; and unbeknownst to them, such is what some among the Horde hoped for as well. Yesui Noyan in particular, her victories having come with almost no effort whatsoever. "Come, then..." She thought to herself, clutching the reins tightly as they reached the city square. "Send me a challenge, don't mock me with child's play!"

"Ladies and Gentlemen of Daquestan..." She said to the crowd gathered, willfully or otherwise, after dismounting and stepping up onto the stage set up for her. With the help of a translator, of course. "Today, a new era for your people begins!"

[Ganos Lao]

The lone Imperial vessel had set sail for Daquestan, along the same path its refugees took to the Oudourakudo.

Rumors of a barbaric horde indulging in aberrant behaviour may have sexually excited General Killbourne, who reportedly "glomped" her husband when he brought her the news of the fall of the Daquestani capital, but the Imperial Court was less than thrilled to hear about it, believing the fertile lands of Daquestan may have been useful to them. After all, the Empire was always looking to expand her influence and clout over the world, fattening its coffers. Not only that, but the Sovereign took pity on the Daquestani refugees who sought her assistance, pleading she would get involved and save their kinsmen from the Onyxian yoke.

Yet this vessel was not carrying soldiers into the former country. Instead, this was the vessel of a scholar, a latter day explorer.

Matthias Brassard was the Imperial scholar who famously documented dozens of little known cultures, including those who were brought under the sway of the government, such as those who passed into the Oudourakudo. It was decided that he would study Onyxian and Daquestani alike in their ways, and bring back recommendations to the Imperial Court. He was accompanied by some guardsmen, dressed in their fearsome power armor. These men cared little for scholarly pursuits, and were only motivated by the promise of getting laid or getting home safely.

Brassard himself dressed like a civilian, but had taken the necessary precautions. Even though his death would no doubt be avenged at the hands of a punitive expedition, he had not wanted to provoke war between the horde and his mistress.

"We'll be landing soon, men. Get ready."

"Yeah, yeah." muttered one of them, grabbing his gear. "Man, where the hell are we, anyway?"

"With any luck, we won't be stepping into our graves." Brassard replied. "Besides, there's so much to see and do still."

"Yeah!" said another. "I wonder if the broads are any good here."

Brassard chuckled, and then turned to face his men. "If you all behave yourselves and follow my orders, I'll treat you all to a trip to a local brothel, got it?"

"Huzzah! Sure thing, boss!" cried the second guard. "You hear that, boys?"

As the soldiers all hollered, Brassard got the ship to make port at a Daquestani port. He calmed the guards down, and had them disembark with him. Not knowing the owners of the port, he instructed his men to keep firm grips on their weapons while he made the necessary precautions.

"Fortune be with us," Brassard muttered under his breath, "as we march for Quinn and Country."

[The Onyx Horde]

Daquestani Capital, Qera, President's House

Yesui walked towards the skeleton of what was once the president's house. While its tenant was long gone by now, most of his possessions were left behind. Political documents; trade agreements, legislation pending executive approval or denial, alliances, and so on and so forth... Within lay a great deal of valuable items as well, and so the Noyan allowed her soldiers to loot this, among other government buildings, to their hearts content. The former owners wouldn't be needing them anyway, and she had to pay her troops somehow, after all.

The inside looked to be in a much more sorry state than the outside, though such was only a temporary state of affairs, until it was determined who would receive ownership of this newest province. Yesui imagined how this former bastion of freedom and fair, representative government to the people would look as a palace... Her own palace, the first and grandest of the Horde's citadels in the South! "Getting ahead of ourselves again, are we?" The ambitious woman thought to herself, sighing softly and entering the sturdy husk.

Inside, at a table which hadn't been carried out by the looters unleashed upon this place, several Noyan and honoured retainers thereof sat discussing the matter of the recently-conquered nation, all the obstacles they faced now and would face in the future.

"Ah, Yesui..." Khadagh Noyan; a fierce, wise, and well-respected warrior; said to her as she approached the table. "You've missed little, my friend, we were moving on to the results of the census' taken before our arrival. As for what you have missed; Daquestani resistance is minimal, this much we already know. A fortified military encampment lies sheltered in the hills just Northeast of the capital. They are currently besieged and under heavy pressure from Jirandai Noyan's Kuun."

"South of the capital, we have small, though according to the census', very fertile and productive farmland which remains unclaimed. Just east of that, a port town from which we've heard rumours of foreign arrivals. I'll be preparing my Mingghan for our campaign to secure these lands before the outsiders, should their goal be to intervene." Ogele Noyan added.

"You'd best ready yourself now, friend. If the rumours are true, we'll want to consolidate our grip over the lowlands in their entirety. These people need to eat, just as us, after all. I feel confident you need not be reminded that we're here to conquer, not to destroy." Jirandai replied, dismissing Ogele and turning his attention back to Yesui.

"And what of domestic matters? Will our newest subjects prove troublesome?" Yesui asked, nodding to Ogele as he left, though otherwise keeping her attention focused on the older warrior as he spoke.

"A largely Islamic population, with one Jewish community here in Qera and a handful of Christians. They're fairly rooted in their Republican traditions as well; their integration should prove fairly challenging, unless you're ready and willing to deal with uprisings of zealots and nationalists." Jirandai answered, looking over the papers a linguist had translated for him.

Yesui smiled at the thought. "Nothing gives me greater satisfaction than seeing such adorable fools trampled to death." The young woman replied grimly, looking to a nearby retainer who spoke up afterwards.

"My lord, I mean no disrespect, but should we not consider recalling Noyan and their men whom have spread to neighboring countries? If a foreign army does answer the Daquestani's plea for help, we'd need our army at full strength to protect these hills, especially as the mountains just North of here would provide the easiest access to our homeland."

Jirandai considered this for a moment, glancing over a few more papers before addressing the reasonable concerns brought to his attention. "Of all the countries in this region, Daquestan was the only one with strong ties to the outside world. As small and utterly insignificant as it is to begin with, I sincerely doubt we'd draw the ire of anyone, so long as we keep from interfering with whatever humanitarian aid they send." He said, laying the matter to rest. "Our armies as they are will be sufficient for the time being. If word reaches us of a foreign intervention, we'll recall the Noyan to defend our holdings here. For the time being, however, the Daquestani people must be thoroughly subjugated. Focus on this first, then we'll worry about whatever bleeding hearts might tell us we're wrong in offering our protection to these peoples."

[Ganos Lao]

Brassard and his men soon set up camp at an abandoned hotel in the port town.

The people who invariably remained in the port town clamoured to them almost instantaneously, musing about the implications of the Twin Dragon insignia now flying over the hotel, marking it as Imperial territory (at least, a temporary embassy to ward off local and Onyxian aggressors).

Brassard sat in his room, staring out the window. People were dropping off supplies, and others were pleading for an escape. A few women even hitched up their skirts! It was enough to make Brassard feel like beseeching his sovereign for humanitarian assistance to these poor souls. He could've simply filed the papers right now, and then gotten out of this fetid backwater.

Alas, he knew they'd not let him come back so soon. His mission was not yet over.

Later that day, he addressed the local authorities at town hall.

"I am Matthias Brassard, a subject of Her Imperial Majesty, the Empress of Ganosia and Queen of Veceria. I have come to investigate your plight. Please understand that we are not here with hostile intentions."

The locals were coming at him in droves, pleading for Imperial support, but he could promise no such thing (though he did allow his men to tend to the wounded and the sick, and he dispensed some supplies to the locals). "It is not in my orders, as of yet, to give you armed support."

Then he spoke with his own men.

"We must have every man ready for the potential battle, either with locals or the horde. Tell them no more lays with the local harlots."

The soldiers expressed disgruntlement, but understood that 'tis better to survive than to die, especially in pursuit of fulfilling one's lusts. They began to patrol the grounds around the hotel, while Brassard made it clear he was not annexing the town, but merely serving as an ambassador of sorts.

"We could annex the town," said one of his aides, "but what would the Imperial Court think of us?"

Brassard overlooked a map of the town, and thought to himself, "If we were to annex it, would we not leave ourselves open to retribution of the horde? We do not want them thinking we are the prelude to an opportunistic invasion..."

One of his soldiers chuckled. "Let them come at us, I say. Then they'll see what it's like to deal with a nation that can fight. Sick Dolly on them for good measure."

"We will not fight unless it's the last resort avaliable to us." Brassard told the soldier.

The soldier shrugged. "Whatever, scholar. All I know is that if they come, I'm taking as many of 'em down as I can."

"Enough. This meeting is adjourned." Brassard said, casting his followers out of the room. He then looked again at the map of the area, and sent word to the Imperial Court that the port town was hospitable to him and his men, but that there was concern of an armed response from the Horde to "probe" just who the foreign arrivals were.

The reply, of course, was expected.

Deal with them in accordance with Imperial custom.

But how could a scholar and his band deal with an entire host?

[The Onyx Horde]

"... This just in from the little country of Daquestan; we have reports of looting and terror in the streets; as Onyxian soldiers blatantly desecrate vital infrastructure, while parading the severed heads of late national leaders around to add insult to injury..."

Yesui couldn't stand to watch the television broadcast anymore, ordering the Cafe owner to shut it off, settling for a change of channel when this proved unpopular with the Daquestani's gathered. "such grossly sensationalized lies..." She said to herself, looking around at Qera as she waited for her tea to be brought to her. The city was still standing! People still had electricity, running water, heating for the upcoming winter... The only looting which had taken place was limited solely to government buildings, and while there had been a few incidents between soldiers and the locals; such careless men and women were publicly punished for their transgressions, and the Daquestani victims properly re-compensated for their loss.

After a moment calming herself, she mingled with the locals a bit, learning the identity of the freelance reporter whom was responsible for a great deal of the "information" flowing from the country to the outside world. It wasn't long then before she found a group of soldiers enjoying their respite here in the city, all of whom saluted her respectfully upon noticing her.

"Collect the rest of your Arban. I have a task for you..." She said after returning the respectful gesture, intent on stopping the outflow of lies which was bound to cause more trouble than they were worth.

---

Some hours after, a band of precisely 20 Horsemen/Women stood on a major countryside road, linking the farmland of Southern Daquestan with the port-town of Zhora. This was where the reporter was supposedly heading, having just recently covered a major engagement between Daquestani peasant-militia and the Horde's forces pushing southward in their bid to secure the agriculturally-rich regions of the nation.

Some time of waiting finally paid off; the van appearing on the horizon just as the sun had finally set, twilight falling over the Daquestani countryside. The reporters came to a screeching halt upon seeing the Onyxian host waiting for them, the horsemen surrounding them and waiting patiently. Two reporters stepped out soon afterward, a large, bear-like and black-bearded young man; with a chestnut-haired, middle-aged woman.

"What's the meaning of this?" The man asked, sounding mildly frustrated. His language was one none of the Onyxians recognized. Neither a language of their Horde, nor Daquestani... it didn't matter to them, however. Their task was to put an end to these liars, and end them they would.

A young woman stepped down of her horse, no older than the grizzled man she walked towards. She was a good foot shorter than the man she stood in front of now, staring up at him with a look which might kill if it could. She nodded to her men, who circled around to the back of the van, opening it up and looking over the contents, to be sure these were the ones.

"Hey, you have no right to do that! We're journalists under the protection of international law..." The woman began, stopped abruptly by the rifles fixed on her by several Onyxians.

"Shut up!" One of the Riflemen yelled in addition to lifting his rifle, his words just as alien to her as hers were to him. The aggression in his tone said enough, however.

"Please, ladies and gentlemen..." The large man said, his gentle nature likely to come as a surprise considering his more rough and rugged appearance.

Unfortunately for him, his hosts weren't as gentle or willing to resolve this peacefully. The Onyxian woman struck him across the face with surprising force, stumbling and stunning the giant of a man. This opened him up to her next attack, the Onyxian "Sergeant", according to the ranking system of most outside nations, grabbing the foreign man and throwing him to the ground, pinning him underfoot. "He told your friend to be silent, the same goes for you!" She yelled, looking to her men next, awaiting conformation.

A nod was all it took, the Onyxian Officer drawing her pistol and stepping off the man she'd pinned, yelling at him to stand. The hot-headed foreign woman instinctively stepped towards the pair, meaning to help her friend... one of the Horde cavalrymen delivered a warning shot, however. The bullet tore through her leg, her shrill scream penetrating the otherwise peaceful nighttime air just after the crack of the rifle had done so. Her behemoth of a co-worker got the message much better than she had, standing and placing his hands behind his back when a pair of soldiers came to bind them. It took little effort to bind the woman as well, as she was in too much pain to put up any more of a fight.

As were their orders, the men took from them all the vital equipment from the van, a couple staying behind to wreck the van further along down the road, making it seem like an accident rather than the kidnapping this would otherwise be considered. The Noyan had been very specific when she ordered them to make it seem like an accident, expecting nothing other than such of them, and they were obligated to provide however they saw fit to. With that done, and the two troublesome journalists in captivity, the Arban began the lengthy ride back towards Qera. All the while, they hoped this would satisfy the request given by their lady. The Noyan in questioned hoped the damage already done by these two wasn't enough to bring in further foreign intervention. And last, though most certainly not least; the reporters' thoughts turned to what would become of them, now that they were so brutally captured by such openly hostile, and utterly barbaric peoples.

[Torrocca]

Debriefing
Luriav Military Base

"... This here is all that the enemy has taken," an old, grizzled officer said, drawing a large, red circle on the map of Daquestan. "This here, of course, is territory of Daquestan loyalist. Everything in between the two circles is contested as of right now," he continued, drawing another circle, this one blue, over the southern portion of the map. He drew another circle, this one also blue, inside of the larger one, saying, "this is where you'll drop and set up a camp. From here, you'll head north to these villages, to set up defenses and slow the Horde's advance. There is no government actually left to assist us there, and all but a few militias have stood down to the Horde's rule. We're expecting terribly heavy resistance, so we're para-dropping much light armor and supplies at the DZ and the villages. The terrain is rather hilly and mountainous, so utilize this knowledge accordingly. Any questions?" The room remained silent, so the officer said, "dismissed."

Hours later
Skies over Daquestan

"Alright, comrades, we're on approach to DZ now," the lead pilot of the swarm of aircraft announced, flicking on a red light in the troop bay, followed quickly by the rest of the fleet. All in all, there were forty one of the giant craft carrying a hundred men each, all armed to the teeth and ready for combat. Another twenty followed behind, carrying a total of one hundred BTRs; another twenty behind those carried several tonnes of supplies, which were to help sustain a prolonged operation in the region.

The lights flickered green, the bay doors opened, and men jumped to their fates by the hundreds. White canopies dotted the night sky, gracefully descending towards the earth. The first of the men hit the ground, and quickly established a perimeter as more and more of their allies fell to the ground. Soon, the field was occupied by all four thousand soldiers, many of whom quickly made haste away from the DZ, clearing the way for the vehicles to hit the dirt. Minutes passed, then the first of these beasts landed, quickly driving out of the field. The supplies fell last, about ten minutes after the last vehicle, and the one hundred men that stayed back at the field began to break the crates open, and take what was from them. Inside about an eighth of them were the materials necessary to set up a makeshift base, and in the rest were all the supplies needed to last the men about two weeks; food, water, clothing, ammunition, and much more.

The men continued on their trek towards the village, two of which were just an hour away. One was a day away, and the last was just half a day away. A lot of men opted to ride upon or inside the BTRs for those trips, while the others chose to simply walk to the closest villages. They were certainly in a rush; if they didn't hurry, the Onyxians would surely arrive and take over whatever they were fixing to protect. If Daquestan was to be free, they simply couldn't allow that to happen.