Saints of Sorrow / SOSORROW

We were born in fire and betrayal during the Tiber Nebula Massacre of 2943.
Hired to protect a refugee convoy fleeing Orion, we watched a corporate PMC erase them all just to cover their masters’ crimes. Only a few of us crawled out of the wreckage alive. Abandoned by the UEE and left with nothing but death around us, we made a blood pact among the floating corpses.
We buried our dead with honors, then swore an oath: we would never again beg the powerful for the right to protect the weak… or the right to take what we earned.
Thus, the Saints of Sorrow were born — fanatic brothers in faith and steel.
We chose this name because we know the truth of the ‘verse: there are no pure saints here. Only those willing to sin for a higher cause. We are thieves with halos and guardians with bloody hands.
From the beginning, we rejected mortal kings and corporate masters. Every survivor’s voice was equal, and so it remains. We are structured like the ancient churches — united in faith, yet free in action. Every idea is heard. No brother is silenced.
Word of our creed spread like a quantum flare across the fringe. Those in need call upon us. We answer — sometimes as protectors, sometimes as reavers, always as Saints.
We have become legends whispered in stations from Stanton to Pyro: men who will guard the desperate, then empty the vaults of their oppressors in the same week. We never abandon our own, and we always get paid.
Today we remain a decentralized faith — a brotherhood of religious thieves and holy opportunists. Independent crews burn across the ‘verse, yet we are bound by one spirit. When the call goes out, the Saints rise as one.
We are feared by tyrants, cursed by corporations, and prayed for by the forgotten.
Some call us pirates with halos.
Others call us saints with loaded stares.
We answer to both.
We are brothers in heist, saviors for a price.