Amar Mio! [One Sith Dominion of Amar]

[Reverance]

Objective A: Destruction of the indigenous population, unleashing the beasts
Allies: One Sith, [member="Vrag"]
Enemies: Furry people, [member="Vrag"]'s Beastie
[4/20]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pQYHtY0sOvg​

​

The metal door resisted entry, locked from the inside as indigenous populations scattered to four winds beneath the stomping over beats. Reverance, looking in, spotted numerous beasts he didn't expect, grazing upon the mangled remains of furry sentient beings. Flexing, he ripped the door from the hinges and smiled. Rancors and Rakamats and Warbeasts, ohmai. Walking over solemnly to the controls, he clicked open the massive garage door that appeared simply of coiled durasteel. The Rancors and Warbeasts pushed out, thumping hard against the buildings outside, as Reverance ran forward and leaped.

Mounting a rakamat on the back, he extended his presence into his mind, bolstered by his experience with the Yuuzhan Vong and the lambent crystals within the Chom-Huun. The monster shook against the penetration of the mind, jostling and attempting to buck the Sith Lord free. Digging his Voxyn hand into the score of armored plates, he balanced himself upon it as the beast fired off magma into the ceiling. The building shook with the eruption as Reverance covered his face from the debris, hair whipped back from the wind, as he shook his head. The Rakamat finally, with the last stomp of rebellion, acquiesced to the commands. Leaning over, he patted the beast on the shoulder and made a tsk sound with his tongue. "Lets go find some beasties to kill..."

The monster shook in agreement, trudging out from the door. It clumsily slipped on the corpses of amaran beneath it as Reverance stabilized it, laughing, as he pulled his helmet on. To block out the noise as the weapons fired into the nearby building. Soon enough, he would meet with this new beastie and test it's mettle.

 

[Vrag]

Objective B: World of Iron
Allies: OS | [member="Reverance"]
Enemies: Indigenous populace | [member="Reverance"]'s beastie
[4/20]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m5i3WtvjOHs​

Vrag rode above the Tsii Q'aah with an Otliq'Nuhlrokka, and surely the wind would have been howling around her, were it not for the skull helmet adorning her face. As it was, however, all she could hear was the heartbeat of the beast beneath her and the one that of her own muscle squeezing behind the cage of her ribs, pumping boiling blood through her veins at a rate far slower than one might expect in a situation like this.

But killers were used to the thrill of the fight, and the drums of war, and the Hand of the Dark Lord was certainly the accomplished sort of murderer. Everything from small, personal things to world-scale genocide could be found in her résumé, and not just as one- or two-off projects; no, sir! Vrag had taken her job to heart, exacting each order with practiced efficiency and terror-inducing accuracy.

Amar would be merely another planet added to her curriculum vitae, naught more than a drop in the ocean of blood that was her heinous deeds. The Republic surely kept a file of all the crimes she'd committed against humanity, decency, and the Universe as a whole, but the Republic would soon cease to matter altogether if the One Sith and their Dark Lord had any say in the matter.

First things first, though.

Tsii Q'aah roared below her, and the firrerreo pulled her gaze from the city on the horizon, glancing down at the beast. It had stumbled upon a smaller settlement, casting a deep shadow upon the scattered group of houses as it loomed above them. It paused for a moment, sniffing at the odor of fear that permeated the air around it, and then without warning, it slammed down with a massive foot, reducing two houses to ruins and dust in the blink of an eye.

Vrag felt a decidedly harsh grin tug at the corners of her lips, but swallowed the expression for the moment. Not yet.

 

[Darth Ophidia]

[1/20]
Objective: Gather the Floofies.
Allies: Cruel, cruel people.
Enemies: Foxy people.

Like a blade of metal and malice, the Sith had cut the legs out from under the Republic. Now, their abandoned territories were ripe for the picking. Ships descended upon the planet of Amar, darkening the skies and vomiting smaller versions of themselves, from which the troops of the One Sith and their monsters emerged to lay waste to the planet’s population. Darth Ophidia was among the masses approaching the home-planet of the Amarans, a peaceful vulpine people known for their keeping of beasts and their incessant bartering.

The Aspect of Death came with a more specific purpose in mind as her dropship clawed onto the planet soil. The doors opened and the Sith Lord revved her swoopbike before emerging with unusual care. Behind her followed transport speeders carrying a piece of heavy and fragile equipment. With a motion of her hand, she gestured for the transport to follow her as she kicked her swoop into gear. A small platoon of One Sith troopers surrounded her convoy as they took off

A datapad fixed on Darth Ophidia’s steering contained a map she had… purchased from a retired amaran scientist. Despite their peaceful reputation, the Amarans had some curious installations scattered about on their planet. One of which would serve perfectly for Ophidia’s plan for the sweet, furry, little creatures. First, she would have to establish. Then they would begin collecting their specimens. It was a bad day to be furry.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6NzD7zLww2A​

The echoes of artillery shells hitting their mark resounded in the Sith Lord's ears.

Vornskr bounded across rooftops, leaping over gaps between buildings, and occasionally eviscerating enemy snipers that were unfortunate enough to take up position in his path. He watched his latest kill tumble down the side of the building he was currently perched upon, the body falling end over end before coming to hit the ground with sickening force as bones were shattered and flesh was pulped. The furry creature twitched several times before he finally went still, prompting the Sith to continue on his journey towards the central defensive line of the Amaran minutemen. Even civilians had taken up arms to stave off the Black army as it approached on the horizon, wielding crude pieces of steel as weapons and gripping rifles and pistols with unsteady hands. Even from here he could feel the fear coursing through them, the furious beating of their hearts as they beheld the horror that came for their souls.

They had not yet noticed him, which was a good thing. It gave him that added element of surprise as he slowly lowered himself down to the ground, moving like a shadow in between the rear artillery lines and delivering fatal punches and kicks to those whose backs were turned to him. Bodies were flung into the sides of the artillery tanks, the sounds of their bones shattered and their bodies breaking like twigs covered up by the thundering cannon fire. Vornskr hauled himself up onto the top of one of the artillery tanks, tearing open the pilot's hatch with his Force-infused strength and pulling out the pilot by the scruff of his neck. With quick work of his hands he snapped the Amaran's neck, tossing his body to the wayside as he then tore the gunner right out from his seat and crushed his skull against the hull of the vehicle. He then thrust his hand right through the gunner's control panel, calling upon his mastery of Mechu-deru to take direct control of the weapon systems with the Force.

He turned the vehicle's cannons first on it's fellow artillery tanks, the two cannon barrels belching out pure destruction that easily cut through the other tank's hulls with resounding explosions as the ammunition caught fire and erupted into a fire cloud. However; by the time he had dealt with the artillery the main battle tanks had already swiveled around with their cannons tracing the rogue artillery tank, all of them firing at it simultaneously. Sensing the danger long ago, Vornskr had already abandoned his hijacked tank to leap high into the air over the other tank's range of fire before landing on one near the rear of the pack. He ignited his lightsaber and swung the crimson blade down through the tank, slicing one Amaran's head right down the middle and chopping one's arm off at the shoulder, eliciting a muffled howl of agony from the vulpine mongrel.

Following up on his momentum he flung his blade right into the nearest tank, the blade easily cutting through the hull to land inside of the tank's main compartment. Vornskr reached out with the force to twirl the blade while it was inside of the tank, cutting all inside occupants into mince meat before drawing it back to his outstretched hand. The twinge of danger alerted him to the tank to his right, which had finally brought it's cannon to bear and was about to fire. He reached out with the Force, directly affecting the tank's firing mechanisms and causing the shell within to prematurely explode, blowing the tank from the inside out with a blossoming fire cloud that consumed everything around the tank.

More tanks trained their guns on him, but his diversion had already worked perfectly as the Blackblade army had now reached the heavy armor's line and begun unloading missiles into the tanks via their portable launchers. Any Amaran attempting to flee were cut down by lines of blaster fire, or were purposefully wounded and dragged back into the hungering horde to be brutally tortured... or worse.

[ 3 / 20 ]​

 

[Reverance]

Objective A: Destruction of the indigenous population, unleashing the beasts
Allies: One Sith, [member="Vrag"]
Enemies: Furry people, [member="Vrag"]'s Beastie
[5/20]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5QFD35usRIY​

He scanned the horizon, plumes of smoke and wind buffeting into the air. Firebreathers stomped merrily about, tearing apart vehicles with simple gesture of movement, spraying buildings with organic napalm. Laser beams coated their anti-laser aerosol with a sense of purpose, disheartening and destructive. Tilting heads to the origin, fired sprayed out violently in response and left carcasses smoldering against the duracrete.

Reverance watched with excitement, careening his head back and forth to watch as the mayhem spilled over. A fire started from within, the clamoring and shaking of structures as they approached fiery condemnation, it was purely ambient music to his ears. The sort of desire to implement a change so rapidly, it felt like vong forming lite. And he delighted in it's presentation, the roar of beasts in the background and the screams that filled the gaps.

Then he saw it, that woman on her nuhlrokka. He shook his head and saw the beast beneath it, a prototype monster that wasn't yet fully prepared for this adventure. And you know what they say about a baby bird flung too far from the nest? Well, obviously it dies.

He knelt over and slapped the rakamat on it's side, signalling for the attack to be initiated. 1.5 km and enclosing, destructive path clear, the Yaret-Kor hummed and pulsated as the beast took in matter with masticating jowels of delight. Converting the matter into munitions, the weapon reeled back and fired head long towards the Tsii Q'aah. It might cause hate sometimes, but for now, it would be the entertainment.

 

[Darth Ophidia]

[2/20]
Objective: Gather the Floofies.
Allies: Cruel, cruel people.
Enemies: Foxy people.

The feeling of the wind tugging on her clothes brought a smile to the Rattataki’s lips. Riding a swoopbike was one of the most delightful experiences she had come across since she left her home-planet. The rumble of the engine was power; the ground that rushed past just under her feet was the sweet presence of danger; the caress of wind on her ashen skin was the kiss of freedom. She sped away from her troops as she pushed the engine. A trail of dust raised in her wake, giving them a trail to follow. She glanced down at the map fixed to her steering; her bunker of choice was coming ever closer.

After riding for a good standard hour, she whirled her swoop around as the field ended abruptly with a sheer wall of rock and a gaping mouth of durasteel and reinforced cement. Once more, Ophidia looked down at her map. A gloved digit reached out to the datapad and swiped to the side in order to bring up a new image. She compared the image of the bunker to what stood right before her. This was indeed the place.

Behind her, the transport and its escort followed as quickly as they could. They were but specks in the distance, only identifiable thanks to the optic configurations of Darth Ophidia’s helmet. She then surveyed the area quietly. She would rather prefer her plan undisturbed. Her swoop’s engines died down into silence before the Rattataki jumped down into the grass. Her hands stroked the lush plant-life briefly before she rose to her full height and approached the metal doors before her.

 

[Six-O]

Objective: A - Exterminate Local Populace
Location: Nondescript Village
Enemy: Wretched Vulpine-things
Posts: 4/20

[Youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L5jRewnxSBY[/youtube]

YARP!

Ziggs screeched, a series of red beams chewing the corner of wall he and his pack had been hiding behind in to splinters and smoke. Perhaps they needed to plot out a different tactic. They weren't ever going to sneak up on it, if they couldn't even hide from it properly. Where was the Republic?! They weren't soldiers. How could the seat of peace and prosperity just allow this.

More shots rattled the corner, keeping them stowed tight. Thumping music began to take to the air, strobing ears with ironic poetry to die by.

"This is stupid, you idiots!" Lann barked, tucking in deeper as another barrage rocked the building, constant reminder to stay hidden while the Droid cut down more and more of the helpless and weak.

"Shut up! We gotta go!"

"NO!"

" 'E's right, let's cut through the building! Stay low." A crackly voice interjected.

"Yeah! Come on, climb up. . " Ziggs agreed, quickly centering himself under a window, away from the deadly blast of wood and energy at the edge of the house. "Vexx, you first. Go!" He reaffirmed, cupping hands low, ready to boost his ally upwards.

One by one they all entered, the building was cluttered, shade-less, and the lights were on in the front room. They crept through, trying to out angle the Droid outside. The pulse of music from it's chassis throbing through the wall relentlessly, a reminder of the cruel indifference it felt in this position of slaughter.

"Quick, get tha' light!"

"Wait, no, no don't!"

But it was too late.

 

[Darth Ophidia]

[3/20]
Objective: Gather the Floofies.
Allies: Cruel, cruel people.
Enemies: Foxy people.

Leather touched durasteel as Darth Ophidia placed her hands on the sealed blast-doors. She tried to push, but evidently, the doors were sealed and rusted shut. They had ways to get inside still. The Rattataki leaned the forehead of her helmet on the blast-door and closed her eyes. Her gloved fingertips caressed the flaking surface of the metal before fastening on a rim running horizontally across the door. The beskar of her helmet scraped against the steel as she turned her head back and forth subconsciously.


Her mind gathered into a point and penetrated the metal, allowing her to feel the inside of the vault. What was it she found? A large, dark room; stone floors and domed ceiling; tables; traps. Yes, there were traps. Bust the door and unleash hell. Always with the traps. Her mind stretched further. She could see tables and corridors. At the end of the corridor: Bingo.

A squeak of breaks ripped the Sith Lord out of her concentration as the convoy halted behind her. The troopers spread out to form a perimeter. Scouts took their small speeders into the hills to establish vantage points. They were not many in her company, but they were organised. Each and every person had proven him or herself capable. Ophidia needed troops who knew what they were doing; she did not have time to train rookies on every mission.

“Lieutenant Viliks, you are late.”

Her raspy voice carried a certain element of amusement to it. Aboard the ship, the Lieutenant had guaranteed that they could keep up. Of course, at the time, he had not known she would be using a Swoop instead of a speeder. The Difference in engine-power was considerable.

“Apoligies Ma’am, I will do better.”
“All in due time, Lieutenant. Keep in mind what happens to those who lag behind.”
“Of course Ma’am!”

 

[Six-O]

Objective: A - Exterminate Local Populace
Location: Nondescript Village
Enemy: Wretched Vulpine-things
Posts: 5/20

The room fell to shadow, it seemed no sooner than the blink of furry eyelid that a shaft of crimson speared through the Amari Wood and Plaster work of the building. They all dropped down to white belly, clutching weapons tight. All but one.

"Lann!?" Ziggs Sprocket probed as the Amaran stood by the light switch. "Lann, get down! Lann?"

No response came.

Lann's breath rasped wetly, his paw lofted, he could feel a warm moistness that began to seep in to his fur and glide lazily down his chest. With two fingers he pressed on his neck, they journeyed in to a cavern that frightened him instantly. Labored gasps began to exhale from snout and wound -- a fluttering sound of thick bubbling liquid.

Another shot illuminated the shade that grasped the Amaran's. Lann, teetering to and fro, choking. Took the bolt in the chest.

Another gasp.

His terrified muscles held strongly for a moment longer as blood pressed through the burnt flesh, extinguishing glowing, charred fur before giving a great powerful spray that painted a soft yellow wall red. Lann fell with a thud, snout open, long pink tongue flopping out in to the crimson pool of his body's own creation.

Dead.

 

[Dex Torture]

Objective C
Allies:[member="Darth Azurea"] | [member="Darth Pyrrhus"]
Enemies: Unknown
Post 1/20

"Time for some fun, I guess" Dex remarked as he grabbed his saberstaff hilt and straightened his black robe tail. He glanced over at his master, she openly opposed the act of slavery before but was now leading the way on an extermination mission, he wondered where her head was at.

The firrerreo acolyte knew little of the Amaran race, only that they resembled fox in their features. He looked down at his hands, his race had been slaves because of their feral and healing attributes and were regularly sold off to hunters across the multiverse as training spars. Dex looked at his reflection off of the hull of the ship, he had become the person his people hated the most and with a smirk he acknowledged the fact that he liked it.

He turned to his master and started to speak as if he thought she was reading his mind "Only the strong will survive, my people were strong and despite our abilities we allowed our race to become enslaved and treated as test dummies" looking down at an amaran being treated by a medic droid "I'll rewrite our past and if that means exterminating or enslaving every species of the universe to prove firrerreo strength then that's what I'll do!" dex proclaimed to all that were around.

Dex looked at his surroundings, everybody and everything (Amaran and Droids included) were staring at him, his skin instantly turned silver in embarrassment he didn't intend on ranting about his past but he had gotten caught in the moment. Dropping his hood over his eyes he kicked the nearby slave in the chest and turned around "Let's begin!"

 

[Krux Mullarus]

Location: Out in the field with too many furries to count
Objective: C
Allies: The Sith - [member="Dex Torture"] / [member="Darth Azurea"] / [member="Darth Pyrrhus"]
Enemies: Furries
1/20

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KvagyHs7q8w​

​

No, they were not helpless. No, they didn't deserve mercy. The day they pledged themselves to the Republic was the day they signed their warrant to be slaughtered and taken in as slaves by the Sith. On top of that, Mullarus wasn't having a very pleasant day. The trip here to Amar was long and tedious. He did not sleep well. He stubbed his toe on his chair. What was he going to do about it?

"Put your blasters away and submit to the One Sith, Amarans!" He shouted, staring down about six of the curious little fox people, probably brainwashed by the Republic into believing the Sith were all the same. Mullarus gave them the chance to come peacefully, but they decided to refuse. Mullarus felt no glory nor satisfaction from practically slaughtering the stubborn little punks.

Then, there was a voice he recognized. He turned around, the pile of Amaran bodies behind him, and saw his old friend [member="Dex Torture"]. Huh. I wouldn't expect Dex to be here alone. Perhaps Pyrrhus and Azurea are here, as well? Mullarus had lately been getting a taste of freedom from the clutches of Apprenticeship. Pyrrhus had not contacted him for a while, and nor had he contacted him. Today could be a good day to do so.

Clad in his Imperial Shield armor, he deactivated the violet blade of his crossguard lightsaber and waved over at his Firrero friend, "Dex!"

 

[Setzi Lunelle]

Objective C
Allies: [member="Dex Torture"] [member="Darth Pyrrhus"] [member="Mullarus"]
Enemies: None so far
Posts: 2/20

Azurea had almost forgotten that Apprentice Torture was with her when she disobeyed the orders of Darth Phokus, one of the leading professors at the Sith Academy on Korriban. But if he remembered that day, she had actually strangled a slave with her own red scarf. The Sith Knight was much further into the darkside now, her Jedi past far behind her like a small blip on the horizon. Slaves were of no consequence anymore.

"You are very devoted, my Apprentice," she said in an almost soothing tone. Darth Azurea's teaching style demanded unflinching loyalty and constant service to her. She did not torment her apprentices as her own Master Pyrrhus did. And if the rabble would think she was weak because of it, so be it. She would challenge her students, but it wouldn't be with pain. She preferred puzzles.

"But we are not on a mission to execute. We are rounding up these Amaran. So I'd like you to do that. See those fifty, frightened Amarans over there? I want you to put them into the cargo hold using only the Force. There are slave collars and chains for them there, but use what you may, be it Telekinesis or a Force Push."

Azurea heard a familiar voice. Pyrrhus's acolyte, Mullarus was also on this mission. Good, the more the merrier, she thought.

As she left the firrerreo with his task, she walked over to the tall Sith. "Does Pyrrhus know you're here? Or has he let you off the leash?" she teased. She knew the two Sith upstarts had sparred a few times before. Hopefully the gathering of the foxes would not be so tedious that they would take to sparring again. Or perhaps that was a good thing. Sith culture actually encouraged rivalries. It would be interesting to see what transpired between the two friends.

 

[Krux Mullarus]

Objective C
Allies: [member="Darth Azurea"] / [member="Darth Pyrrhus"] / [member="Dex Torture"]
Enemies: Furries
2/20

The question made him think. In truth, he has not had a real conversation with his master since...before Contruum, at least. It has been a while. Hopefully, the togruta didn't think he was dead.

He removed the hood from his head, his black hair coming in contact with the Amaran sun for the first time. It shone in his indigo eyes. "Actually, I haven't spoken to him since the invasion. I've been a Republic Prisoner of War since then, and after that I had time to myself to build my new toy" he said, giving his long-hilted crossguard saber, deactivated, a twirl. "Is he here, too? I take it the Sith occupation and..." Mullarus air quoted: "'The Amaran Genocide' have brought you here?

"Really, a fine day to murder some helpless furry people" he said sarcastically, walking into normal conversation range. He glanced in Dex's direction, wondering where he was off to.

 

[Isamu Baelor]

Objective: C
Location: Capitol City
Allies: One Sith
Enemies: Local Forces
1/20

With the One Sith’s victory at Contruum, The Republic were sent scurrying with their tale between their legs. Planets once ruled by the Republic were now ripe for the taking. Like vultures, picking at the rotting meat of a corpse, the Sith swarmed the former Republic planets. Amar was their first target.

The battle was swift. The Amaran offered little in the way of resistance. When the Republic abandoned them, their spirits broke. As the Republic ships fled in cowardice, their will to fight left with them. As the Sith ships blotted out the sun, they became resigned to their fate.

Isamu’s forces quickly took the capitol. They landed in droves, and surrounded it. With no ability to defend themselves, the Amaran’s were left with little choice. They could defy the Sith, but they would crumble. Between starvation and infighting, they would tear themselves apart from within. The city relented, and the Sith army quickly occupied it.

The occupation was text-book. The capitol building was taken, supplies confiscated, checkpoints set-up, and the population rounded up. Their main objective was to occupy the city into the populace was pacified. It was a welcome reprieve from the chaotic mess that was Contruum, and Balmorra.

As Isamu stepped out from the capitol building, having discussed terms of surrender with their leadership, he took notice of a commotion a little further down the street. Dead Amaran’s were stacked up by the side of the road. The gruesome results of a One Sith firing-squad. Nearby, another group of Amaran’s were propped up against a wall, waiting to be executed. “Halt!” Isamu exclaimed, as he advanced to the firing squad. The Sith soldiers lowered their weapons, and saluted their commander. “Soldier! Who gave you orders to execute these Amaran?” Isamu asked, questioning their motives.

The soldier looked to his brothers, confused, before answering the general. “Sir… The Sith are conducting an extermination. They’re killing all the Amaran’s. We have orders...” The soldier said. Isamu turned his head, and looked towards the Amaran’s. “Oh? I didn’t know we were so well-manned that we could dispose of able-bodied slaves.” He said, motioning to the Amaran’s.

In truth, Isamu did not condone slavery. It was a brutal, awful, existence. The reality was, however, they were facing complete extinction. These Amaran’s were now Sith. They were part of his people. He would do what he could to save them. A life in slavery, was better than no life at all. It at least gives them a chance to survive.

“Round up the Amaran’s, put them in slave camps. We will need man-power to rebuild this planet once we are finished. And remove these bodies!” The soldiers saluted their general, and quickly ushered away the still-living Amaran’s. To the outside world, Isamu would look a monster, but he would at least save the people. He could only do with that he had, unfortunately. This was the closest he could give them to mercy.

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Objective: C

Waiting. Always waiting. This was the problem with bank transfers. They always took time to approve and go through the holonet for verification. Damn bureaucrats slow everything down. By all accounts, I shouldn't care about the paltry credits to be gained from killing Fox or Raccoon people, but even someone absurdly wealthy thanks to the Republic, both directly and indirectly, had standards to meet. If I waved off credits this time, I probably wouldn't even see them next time. Best to sit and wait for someone with authority to unleash the beast.

And so thirty five mandalorians sat in a bar in the capital city. Thirty five strong wasn't a lot, but screw it, we could pull that wait. The bar hadn't necessarily been completely cleared. There were the Amaran people cowering in the freezer, thinking we couldn't see them, hoping they would go unnoticed and unharmed if our pay was approved through the grape vine. Warriors sat around, drinking, eating, and conversing freely. Weapons were sat on tables and held in loose grips. Waiting.

"If this goes like Panatha I might seriously consider taking a contract with the Republic." I said aloud, the big wookiee beside me laughing.

"I don't think that would go well. Mystically they haven't put a price on your head, but they want the Clans to gut us all." Piped up another warrior sitting nearby. The concept was laughable. Arrest Mercenaries for being Mercenaries... Normal, reasonable people normally just tried offering more credits than the last guy.

"Desparation can cause a man to do many things he otherwise might not." I said solemnly, staring forward. Then with a slight grin, "And I have never known a woman to be sane in the first place."

 

[Ire'Rain Sekairo]

{1/20}
OBJECTIVE: A- Furry Eradication
LOCATION: A Goddamned Furry Convention
ALLIES: Sith, Mostly
ENEMIES: Anything With Fur

Once upon a time, a young Ire might have looked upon the fluffy populace of Amar and smiled, deeming the silly little things 'adorable'. But she was no longer who she had been then, nor was she even who she had been just a year ago. Nay, she was not a child, and nay, she did not care for the 'cute factor' of the Amarans. That did not mean she hated the... things. She simply found them to be odd, peculiar, but not that special. Not worth her time, really.

Though it seemed some on the One Sith disagreed with her. Regardless of whether they found a legitimate reason to take over the world or simply decided to slaughter the small beasts, the Sith had invaded Amar. A waste of time, the Sekairo had thought when she first heard of the operation. Yet still she had made her way to the planet. Wasting time was what she did best these days. Even if others didn't see it that way.

"Frakkin' animals... Kill every last one," someone had said just moments after exiting the shuttle. That had been half an hour ago. Already Ire found her armor covered in a fair amount of blood and fluff. Remnants of mostly innocent Amarans. Why am I doing this? She asked herself, finding no answer that pleased her. All of her motivation stemmed from one thing: Boredom. But death had stopped being interesting for her years ago.

Not even a slaughter on this scale did anything for her- except make her furrow her brows.

 

[Vrag]

Objective B: World of Iron
Allies: OS | [member="Reverance"]
Enemies: Indigenous populace | [member="Reverance"]'s beastie
[5/20]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8LLnwEcgWxw​

​

​

Even as the behemoth below stomped all over the village, Vrag's eyes remained fixed on the horizon. There were taller buildings striving towards the sky there, dimmed as they were by the clouds of smoke already billowing across the countryside. She followed the trails of gray and black to their origin a few clicks to the east of their position, and was welcomed to the sight of a swarm of black ships cutting through the clouds. They wre most likely bombers, judging by the dark specks plummeting through the air below them and the constant din of Amar's history collapsing.

With a mere sweep of the hand, the planet would be reduced to dust and rubble, wiped clean to make way for the glory of the Sith. They would reshape it, reform it into something infinitely better than it ever was.

First, however, the cleansing.

Vrag returned her gaze to the jagged skyline of the city ahead and smirked when she saw that it was marred by an oddly organic a growth, indicating something else stood in front of the man-made structures in the distance. Something more… organic.

And then it lit up with the fires of Yaret-Kor, and the woman grinned savagely behind her helmet as her Otliq fell back behind the massive bulk of the beast. Tsii Q'aah arched its broad back with an earth-shattering roar, digging his wide feet into the soil and houses below to withstand the kinetic energy of the projectiles.

They splattered against the metre-thick plating like ripe fruit, and scorching lava fell like red rain down on the ruins of the settlement. The monster growled low in its throat and shook the rest of it off, its small, beady eyes focusing on the creature that dared interrupt its feast.

It seemed it was content to turnt he fight into a staring match for a few moments, but upon closer inspection, it would become apparent that the beast was merely… catching its breath? Neither Vrag nor the Shapers of Selvaris knew its full gamut of capabilities, for the Tsii Q'aah was the result of many a merged gene. A splice like no other, its true destructive power remained to be seen.

And there was no better way to test than to do it live. Against a karking Rakamat.

The Supreme commander grinned as the creation of Yun'O bellowed forth its scream at last, high- and low-pitched all at once as it rolled over the landscape like a massive wave. It knocked down trees as if they were saplings, crumbled boulders as if they were sand, and made organs go pop as if they were balloons nudged with a needle.

But most of all, it struck fear in the hearts of all who heard the call, curdling blood and arresting breath, making even the hardiest of atheists wish there was a god above.

 

[Six-O]

Objective: A - Exterminate Local Populace
Location: Nondescript Village
Enemy: Wretched Vulpine-things
Posts: 6/20

Now you see, watching Lann die, that'd just been too much for Ziggs Sprocket, local mechanic of East Paw, to handle. The bravery he'd felt just mere moments earlier had been sapped from every muscle, every tendon. His frame couldn't even handle the weight of his own small body. He'd taken to cowardice, as all organics eventually did when faced with unavoidable death.

Sure, you had those exceptional heroes. The imbeciles that would shout to the heavens, scream poetically to their faction of choice, and unleash a final salvo. The blaze of glory, some called it. In reality it was a mere laughable flutter from a zip-sealed sack of sentient meat that would be as quickly forgotten as the fool that bellowed it was felled.

One by one the Droid cut down the meager resistance of East Paw. One by one each shattered, and let ooze their gooey insides for the machine. All of them except the cowardly fox Ziggs Sprocket.

For he lay, frozen in fear, in the former spot of their refuge. Catatonic as his allies had tried to revive the fight in him. Worthless and broken as they chose to abandon the Speeder Repair-Fox. They were burned, they were bludgeoned, they were shot dead. One by one a steady queue of plush little fluffies torn ragged and blood-soaked.

The sounds of their yelping cries forever to haunt Ziggs Sprocket as he quiver and whine, a scolded mutt on the wood floor.

Yet, when no more he could hear them, did Ziggs rise once more. Pouting and puppy-fox eyes watering, cheek fur damp. Perhaps yet still, the quick little fox from East Paw would jump to life and blow this lazy droid dog to scrap.

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

Objective: Enforce the will of the strong upon the weak
Allies: [member="Darth Azurea"] [member="Mullarus"] [member="Dex Torture"]
Enemy: Anyone who disagrees
Posts: 1/20

The Revenant descended upon the planet of Amar, and much misfortune did it bring. Out marched a cohesive units of Nautolan soldiers. One, an honourary guard with pikes and shields, old of fashion. They were Pyrrhus personal guard. The other kind of troops that flushed out were a more modern outfit, wearing standard Sith trooper armour, equipped with blaster rifles, thermal detonators; the usual. They took up formation out side of the ship, awaiting the will of the Lord of Ruin.

Finally the darkness followed. Darth Pyrrhus had arrived, with all his might and a barely contained hatred. Recently his expeditions had taken him to the corners of the galaxy, to obscure and abandoned planets. He had returned different. He had found the secrets he sought, though it came at a price. A price to some, part of the reward to him. His soul had truly been plunged into the pool of the Dark Side. It had arisen soaked, corrupted. His fury was a force of nature barely contained. He doubted it would be unleashed today, but oh, how it would feast on the misery of this entire planet.

Naturally, he had not spent travel in hyperspace idle, nor were his soldiers unaware of what awaited them on the planet. One nod, and they were out. Their orders were simple. Burn every Amar settlement to the ground. Capture and enslave every single of the rodents they came across. Those who resisted were to be met with death, and not a drop of mercy. They would be shown that there were only two options to Sith occupation, as presented by Darth Pyrrhus. They were not in a position to negotiate. Those who resisted would be put down without mercy, and everyone in their families would be put to the sword. Force knew there were enough of them, if death was their choice, it would come swift. This was an eradication of Amar life. With death or slavery, Amar would be ridden of their stench.

His soldiers marched off, spreading out and beginning their effort to round up the populace. His honour guard would follow him, and clean up the areas he passed through. Village to village, Pyrrhus would enforce his justice. He knew [member="Darth Azurea"] was on the planet. Her approach might be different to his, but the results would be all the same. More interestingly, he felt that familiar presence of his agent of misery, his apprentice [member="Mullarus"]. He was here... Excellent. It had been a while. Caught up in the expansion of his own might, the trainee had been left to his own devices. Yet not without being passed knowledge of the Sith. What had he done with his independence? Had he been Sith, or had he faced stagnation? It was likely that the two of them, given the bond they shared, would notice the arrival of the Togruta. Like a tremor in the Force, a darkness was approaching. Amar would burn today, and his was a fire that would not be extinguished.

 

[Six-O]

Objective: A - Exterminate Local Populace
Location: Nondescript Village
Enemy: Wretched Vulpine-things
Posts: 7/20

Careful and silent would small Ziggs creep, his breath labored and knees flaccid. Hands, shaking with the fearful tremble of certain doom the Amaran did clutch his rifle, a weapon of the more simple and archaic ballistic type. How ever would a little critter such as he, hope to neutralize the prodigious Droid that kerfed a gruesome canal of carnage through this peaceful town?

Over wooden porch did paltry paws click, carrying the terrified Amaran over the splinters and pebbles of Six-O's skillful conquest. But where, oh where could the big Droid be?

Smoke wafted and writhed through the streets of East Paw, tall lamps flickered and fell dark -- the One Sith had just destroyed the Power Station outside of town, no doubt. Though the sun had not fully set, the embrace of dark penumbra did clutch the chaos to it's frightening bosom, a panorama that would not soon be forgotten.

Ziggs shivered as short leg stretched over crispy black corpses, and limbless mounds of fur, sticky and matted with blood. Those minute, furry, arms took grasp of the rifle more strongly. Holding it's stock to shoulder quite proper, he slid further and further along his path, following the crumbs of slaughter, rifle muzzle swaying fiendishly -- how could he ever hope to shoot this Droid dead?

A clangor struck pointed fox ear, and Ziggs Sprocket took heed. Pausing and crouching he turned towards a set of dirty porch stairs, dark green of paint and showing well the weathering of age. He couldn't see deep beyond the dark portal of it's entrance, but alas when another bone-jarring clatter struck chord, he knew this was where his hesitant legs must carry him.