Amar Mio! [One Sith Dominion of Amar]

[Cyrus Tregessar]

Objective: A
Location: Low Orbit above Amar
Allies: One Sith
Enemies: Anyone in the blast zone
[1/20]


It was a pity really, Cyrus had expected so much from the Republic Navy. His past few months had been spent on intelligence analysis and staff duty, and he was by now very familiar with the advanced warship designs and new tech being fielded by the Sith’s old enemy. A shift had occurred in the balance of power in space. The Sith had gone from having the advanced designs but a shaky support setup and limited strategic acumen to being the veterans using tried-but-true methods, while the Republic had seemingly crumbed under its own weight in spite of their shipyards churning out some of the most powerful classes of ships ever seen.

Maybe the merger of the Remnant would change things, but that would have to be vetted another day. What scattered and divided Republic forces had mustered to defend the planet of Amar had been easily routed. Cyrus had deployed his fleet in a classic formation, escorts screening up front, fighters on the periphery, and capital ships in the center. It was an aggressive formation designed to focus firepower, and also easily exploitable.

The Republic Navy had failed to capitalize on the obvious shortcomings. Not that it would have mattered, the initial deployment was a bait and switch in of itself. Even so, they’d arranged in classic lines of battle and begun long range attacks. Not their brightest moment, given the still-impressive long range firepower of the Dark Blade’s and Wryyloks.

In response Cyrus had focused firepower on the center fo the rebel formation, then sent his fighters in to exploit the weakness. As the Republican lines began to compress to try and seal the hole, he had formed his escorts on the flanks and set his capital ships to advance in a wedge. It hadn’t taken long after that, the Republic formation had collapsed and then promptly broke into retreat.
Casualties had been light all around, the Republic could thank their advanced designs for that, but it was a far cry from the naval force that had cracked open two Immortals and humbled the Sith in the orbit of several planets.

So now the planet was at the mercy of the Sith (an ironic phrase if there ever was one), and the order was annihilation. Cyrus was ambivalent at best about the command, extermination struck him as wasteful, there was always room for extra manpower, but Sith would be Sith.

But rather than simply glass the planet wholesale (and anyways, there were allied forces on the surface getting close and personal with the Amarans) he had decided to make use of the opportunity for training. While the Sith Navy was very good at fighting other ships, they hadn’t had a lot of time to practice fire support operations. To be frank, it wasn’t needed all that often, Sith Lords tended to make their own fire support.

Besides, watching buildings explode into magnificent plasma fireballs from repeated turbolaser barrage never got old. Cyrus was admiring one particularly vibrant detonation when he noticed on the main display that allied forces were occupying the planetary capitol, which happened to be the area he had next designated for target practice. Forces commanded by one [member="Isamu Baelor"], who had developed something of a name for himself over the past several months. It was a quick matter to find the proper hypercomm frequency (such a small thing, but so telling on the development of the Sith military as a functional organization) and Cyrus hailed the man.

“General Baelor, this is Admiral Tregessar of Battlegroup Fury. I’m holding your forces advancing into a newly designated fire support area. We will be leveling this area, and furthermore I see your troops are not following the extermination orders from the Sith. Withdraw your troops to surround the city and ensure no Amarans escape the cordon."

 

[Kur-gal Kwaad]

Objective C: Slay
Allies: [member="Draco Vereen"]
Enemies: Amarans
[8/20]


He let out a guttural growl at the mention of credits, once again reminded where the difference between their honor lay. The Mandalorians, for all their fame and glory, were willing to sell their blood and flesh to whomever named the highest price. They were skilled perhaps, but poor and lowly in their approach to war.

This, Kur-gal could not fathom.

With a shake of his horned head, the Slayer rode off with his Otliq'Vaghrokka, a hundred strong still as they continued to spill over the ravaged streets of the city. Unnamed, unknown, and soon to be forgotten forever. Was there much glory in cutting down these sniveling, cowering weaklings as they scrambled to hide in the darkest corners? The Dragon supposed not, but it was not his place to question orders.

Or at least, it shouldn't be his place to question orders. It didn't mean that the man didn't have his doubts from time to time. Many of his kin, the Yuuzhan Vong, were taught to obey blindly when it came to their superiors, and Kur-gal had been raised the same way. Still, somehow, perhaps due to his being a Slayer and therefore inherently a dirty crossbreed between two castes, the Dragon had never lost his pondering nature.

And sometimes, that was dangerous.

Not today, though. Today, the man and his purpose rode united towards victory over a world that was already breaking. They were not made to stand up to an assault such as this, and their arrogance near the borders of the One Sith domain would now cost them everything; their home, their future, and their lives.

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

Objective: Enslave the foxlings
Allies: [member=Darth Pyrrhus]
Enemy: Amar
Posts: 3/20

Dust settled over Amar. As Pyrrhus searched the edges of the horizon, his mind going even further, he felt a planet that was slowly dying. Or, the planet wasn't dying, but its inhabitants were efficiently being killed off. The fate of the Amarans was death by Sith, or enslavement by Pyrrhus. Regardless of which path they found themselves on, their reign over Amar was over. The age of the Sith was here, and he could already feel the corruption seeping into the planet's core.

Turning, he went back to his latest conquest. Another settlement laid to waste, and its inhabitants either brutally executed, or captured and brought back to his ships to benefit him as slaves. As was tradition, or had been, since he landed here, he ordered every building to be razed to the ground. The Amarans stain on this world would be removed, and the Sith would rebuild the planet. Stronger, better.

He could probably have kept going, subjugating regions. Even as his slave ships filled up, he could join in the slaughter to speed up the process. But instead, Pyrrhus had something else in mind entirely. It was time to perform a little experiment. Masked within the darkness that was quickly enveloping the planet, he imagined it would not cause concern or note for anyone present. Though he kept few secrets from Azurea, and intended to provide his other apprentice with all of his knowledge to mold him into the finest Sith he could be, history had taught him a few things. One, a Sith who revealed all of his secrets too fast risked feeding the arrogance of his students, or even finding himself rendered useless and disposed. Secondly, a Sith who grew content with his own power not only stagnated and seized moving forwards, but started to decay. Whether from weakness that could be exploited by others, or a rot from within that ate away at the soul. Pyrrhus would not let himself be surpassed, nor would he curb his growth.

Recently he had come across certain manuscripts and scrolls of old. He had been involved with an excavation operation on an ancient Sith world. He had inspected their findings, and claimed whatever he deemed useful. Those who knew too much, he had either disposed or rendered mentally unstable. No one would believe a madman. Now, in the midst of the genocide of Amar, he would be able to perform his experiment.

An officer moved up to his position, and walked with him back towards the center of this excuse for a city. "All Amarans accounted for. Demolishing in progress." he reported. "Excellent. And the prisoners?" it was a standard question, though his eyes examined the Nautolan. Pyrrhus had no patience for failure, not today. "All in place, as you asked my Lord." Excellent. And with that he moved into one of the larger buildings, what likely had served as a gathering place for the Amarans.

 

[Vrag]

Objective B: World of Iron
Allies: [member="Reverance"]
Enemies: [member="Reverance"]'s beastie
[9/20]

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

Vrag was grinning with satisfaction as she watched the Tsii Q'aah wreak havoc upon the landscape with a bellow to shake the very foundations of the earth. When the final echoes died out, everything in the vicinity of the beast was leveled flat with the ground, regardless of whether it was intended to be that way by the Universe. Trees, houses, tracks, and vessels; all lay scattered and crumpled as far as the eye could see.

"Good boy," the Hand cooed at the monster, as if razing the world to the ground was deserving of such praise. Oh, well. What else could you expect from a warmongering Sith Lord?

The lull was short-lived, however, and with only a few seconds of respite, the song of yaret-kor upon the shoulders of the Rakamat flooded the still air once more. Nature finished catching its breath, and it was time to retaliate.

Moving steadily forward even despite the rain of molten rock, the Tsii Q'aah forged ever closer, bent over with its head low above the ground and tucked between thick folds of plating to avoid the constant fire by its distant sibling. Though it knew what to attack, Vrag could feel a deep, fundamental confusion radiating from the beast. It called for direction, for a steady Hand to guide it towards its goal, and the firrerreo was more than happy to oblige.

With a hiss, she disengaged from the cognition hood of the Nuhlrokka, blinking a few times as the world returned to normal. It had been disorienting at first, going between being connected to the neural lattice of Legion Yun'Do and being a singular individual once more. Now, after many rides with the Otliq, the change didn't throw her off anymore, but it was still something to behold.

And that was just with a Nuhlrokka. Excitement squeezed her heart as she wondered how it will be to feel and see with a beast as grand and majestic as the Tsii Q'aah.

Wasting no more time on pondering, the woman broke away from the formation and flew her buzzing mount low above the plated back of the creature, lips curled into a wild smile when she finally lunged. Claws of Vonduun scraped against the thick hide of the beast as she found purchase, and Ygdris reeled at the odd smell of the monster. It was its brother, and yet it was also more; its father, its son, all merged into one. The Shapers of the Legion had worked tirelessly to combine the sturdy crystalline structure of Vonduun with the sheer resilience of the Rakamat and the many-layered plate of the Grokata.

The result was, naturally, intimidating as all Nether.

Vrag scrambled up its back with a grin, eyes alight as she finally reached the small nook in the plates, just big enough to allow for a humanoid to mount it comfortably. And there, enticing and inviting, a cognition hood. She bit her lip, looked up at Gabriel's Rakamat, and laughed.

"Here I come, motherkarker."

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

Objective: Testing, testing
Allies: @OS
Enemy: People who don't knock before they enter
Posts: 4/20

The Togruta Lord stepped inside of the building, and moved through its small halls towards a large room. It had likely served as some kind of city council room, or at least something with a similar function. All the furniture had been taken away and even the windows had been barricaded. His own personal guard took up position outside the room, and the building. His small force also took up position, taking this small city. They were prepared to hold it, and defend against a counter-siege. Of course, nothing of the sort was expected, but one did not rise to Sith Lord by ignoring possible threats or underestimating ones enemies. Always prepared. The Nautolans had their training, they knew what to do.

Pyrrhus stood above his prisoners. In fact, he towered above them. He was a tall man, and with his curved montrals he appeared even taller and more imposing. The Amarans were tiny in comparison, and as they knelt before him, hands chained behind their back, they truly looked insignificant. There were seven of them. Though as the rest of the city's population was being transferred off, he knew he would have no shortage of test subjects. Worst case scenario, he invade another settlement. He always found a way.

One of them hissed and him, calling out something in their native language. No doubt, given the intensity of their speech and the subtle look of fear on the people to his side, it was a tirade of obscenity that was tossed against him. Another shouted out in perfect basic "Freedom for Amar! You will never win! We will never surrender" it caused the Sith Lord to laugh. This species did not have it in them to threaten him, and so instead he found it ridiculous. Their claims held no connection to reality. Yet he did not humour them with a response. This was a waste of time. "Ensign" Pyrrhus said, tilting his head slightly to the side. A Nautolan immediately rushed up to his side. "Yes, my Lord?" he was ready to serve. And serve he would. "Cut off their tongues. They do not need them for this experiment." with no hesitation, the ensign replied with "Yes, my Lord. It will be done" and so he and two others pulled out their knives and approached the Amarans.

The room got filled with the ever sweet scent of horror, soon to be replaced by intense pain. The Amarans lost their ability to speak, becoming much less annoying in the process, and they learned a valuable lesson: never interrupt one of Darth Pyrrhus' experiments.

 

[cheshire_kitty]

Objective A & C: Kill.
Location: In a starship near another Amaran village
Allies: The One Sith
Enemies: The Amarans
Post: 3/20​

​

All the Amarans from the previous village were now dead and dismembered. So, it was time to have a little more fun…

“Men, we are going to fly over the first Amaran village we find and rain the body parts we have so neatly cut up on it then land the ship and command their obedience. Kill any vulpine who rebel. After they are neatly rounded up, each person choose one out of the captured Amarans and we will have a little competition.” Konrad ordered his men.

***

Dismembered Amaran body parts rained from the starship and onto the small village, a few of the pieces hitting the residents. A few screamed as they tried to escape the village however, this was in vain. When Konrad saw the villagers escaping, he decided to change the plan and rained fire upon the escaping villagers. Once all the fleeing villagers were dead, Konrad had his men fire missiles on the village until it was completely obliterated.

“I guess things do not always go according to plan,” Konrad sounded disappointed.​

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

Objective: Testing, testing
Allies: @OS
Enemy: People who don't knock before they enter
Posts: 5/20

The ground before the unlucky seven formed into a pool of blood. A few of them had collapsed down, perhaps hoping to fall unconscious or fooling Pyrrhus that they had. A few others desperately tried to run or squirm their way away from the horrors that was inflicted upon them. They all found that there would be neither rest nor escape. Everyone were put back in place, and those who had passed out were slapped awake. Regardless of the reasons behind it, an interruption was an interruption, and this Togruta was in no mood.

A few soldiers stood behind them now, rifles pointed to them and ready to fire. Of course they wouldn't, fearful of invoking Pyrrhus fury, should they execute his test subjects. Yet the Amarans didn't know that, and he calculated they would not be brave enough to test it. Regardless, he had proven they wouldn't get far.

Meanwhile Pyrrhus went over to a table. He had read and memorized what he needed from a book before. What details he needed now, he had written down on a scroll. This was pulled out and examined. The scroll contained the details of a ritual. A Sith incantation that had been used by Sith sorcerers to manifest the Dark Side of the Force. A spell. Now, it was the aspiring Togruta sorcerer's turn. He had long been fascinated by Sith sorcery, and he had discovered early that he had an affinity for it. This much had been implied to him, both from his master and from sorcerers such as Matsu Xiangu, who had set him on the path to learn its secrets. Sage Bane, he knew, was one such practitioner of sorcery, and Pyrrhus had always been fascinated to hear his tales and exploitation. The Sith War machine, and his subjugation of Glee Anselm had taken up most of his time. He had sent his agents out to discover the secrets, but they had come up empty handed. Until now. Finally, he had the time to delve deeper into this dark art, and he had the resources.

Darth Pyrrhus moved once more in front of his unfortunate prisoners. Closing his eyes, he summoned the power of the Dark Side. Like in a trance-like meditative state, it flowed through him, enveloping both him and the room. Then he began a slow chant, reciting the spell's incantation. The words were of the ancient Sith language, one which he had previously studied and familiarized himself with. The Amarans could but look upon him with horror. Whether they realized what was about to happen or not, they probably had wits enough to understand that whatever he was doing, would not spell a happy future for them.

 

[Necrobius Amunrex]

Objective: C - Watch for the Signs
Location: A simple lake
Enemy: Non-Believers.
Posts: 8/20

How he got here, he could not say. For Amunrex, it was a tale as ancient and old as the one true God himself. Days of black nether thick as morning fog, he'd oft come to; awoken on strange Worlds and distant haunts. A lake, it seemed, this time -- though the World remained mystery, and the purpose absent. But as was with all true believers, no thing happened astray rhyme nor reason.

The lake sat lonely in a hollow of silence, a cup of black-shaded water in which antediluvian spells of the deep forest steeped; a fine tea fit for the lips of aberrant ancients.

With stiff limb pushing, Necrobius rose. hands clutching wearily on edges of boat to steady it's uneasy rocking of to and fro. From left and right he looked, skeletal features blank and eerie, searching for signs that may never find him. When by no action of his own, a heavy oar clattered on the floor of the skiff. Seti-Anok's will had spoken, this much he was certain.

He fastened the oars, and pulled careful heave of their lever, cutting noiselessly through dark water with each revolution. When at the center of the pool, Necrobius hunched upwards, lofting the elder anchor over the side. Quickly it plunged, with resounding splash, coil after coil of damp, dirty rope unwinding, a great snake vanishing in to the fathomless abyss.

When finally a quiver had showed the anchor struck bottom. The Givin quickly did twist the rope around a securing hook.

A sigh murmured from the skeletons mouth.

Rocking on the liquid glass as he turned and made cushion out of heavy black cloak. Necrobius Amunrex thought of nothing, he felt nothing. He was content merely to lie here and wait admist calm beauty and tranquility. For he knew the call of a greater power, one he himself could never hope to understand, would stretch forth and touch him under the slender crescent moon of this peaceful place.

"Show me what I must see."

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

Objective: Testing, testing
Allies: @OS
Enemy: The Amarans
Posts: 6/20

The Nautolan soldiers that had stood behind the prisoners now removed themselves from the room. This was not for their eyes to see, and frankly, he wasn't sure if their bodies would be able to withstand it. Of course, this was his first attempt, and who knew what might happen. He might unleash an unstable blast that not only took away their lives, but the very foundation of the building itself.

Even despite the absence of these riflemen, the Amarans didn't move. They were chained, of course, but it was more than that. They were mesmerized by the incantations spoken by the Sith Lord in the ancient tongue. The weight of the Dark Side was crushing on the room. The air felt heavy. They would find no courage in this environment, no will to flee. They were trapped, forced to witness their own demise. All they had now was that tiny ounce of hope that told them they would be fine, that nothing terrible could happen. Magic wasn't real, right? Right?

Pyrrhus continued his incantations, yet his tone was picking up in intensity. Similarly, his voice increased in volume. He felt the power building within him. He felt the cold, corrupting touch of the Dark Side as he opened himself to it, surrendering his soul to the blackness that became him. He was Sith, and there was no hope of redemption for him. Nor did he seek it. This was his life, this was his purpose. Ever since Sage Bane had picked him up on Coruscant and told him of their ancient order, he had realized this was where he belonged. He was born to be Sith. It was all he would ever be, yet being Sith meant being more than everyone else. A Lord in title, yet this was only the start. The Togruta's ambition ran deep, and he had only just begun his campaign. His time was near.

The presence of the Dark Side in the room became near-tangible. The sound of Pyrrhus' voice almost became obscure, like it lost all likeness to what it had previously sounded like. There was a strange duality to it, as if it echoed back and forth through multiple realms of reality. Finally, to the horror of his vulpine audience, something was manifesting from the palms of Pyrrhus' red hands. Pure, Dark Side energies enveloped him. And as his eyes shut open, he unleashed it.

 

[Setzi Lunelle]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fpgJsg3ft2A&ab_channel=Missio​

​

Objective C
Allies: [member="Dex Torture"] [member="Darth Pyrrhus"] [member="Mullarus"]
Enemies: None so far
Posts: 5/20

"Apprentice Torture does have a fire inside of him to kill," Azurea remarked to Mullarus. "But he will require focus in the years to come, in order to inact the type of planetary destruction that the great Sith in the past have been able to accomplish."

For the most part, Darth Azurea stood there above the fray. She let the eager firrerreo take care of the bloodshed. Mullarus stood outside of it too, which caught her attention. "I plan to sell them," she said offhandedly, not giving the subject anymore thought.

"Mullarus," she said, her green eyes scanning him for signs of reticence for this task... for hesitancy. But as was normal, a direct route would not be taken in her inquisition. "Tell me about your childhood," she said. She guessed they had much in common, but to know this for sure, she needed to envision him as a child or a teenager.

And if their beliefs were that much in common, this was perhaps a bad thing. Azurea didn't want to hold the Acolyte back from being the Master he needed to be. She had her own stumbling blocks, apparent to Darth Pyrrhus, and perhaps his own weakness was to allow them to continue. But maybe there was a way to salvage this humanity in Mullarus. Like the humanity that Azurea clung to at times during this process of full transformation to the darkside.

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

Objective: Testing, testing
Allies: @OS
Enemy: The Amarans
Posts: 7/20

The room came alight with strands of Dark Side energies. They were unleashed from the fingertips of the Togruta, and charged towards two of the Amarans. They were sat with some distance between each other. This spell had originally been intended to only hit one, but instead of a single concentrated blast, it came in the form of a widespread collection of thick strands.

It crashed with the bodies of the Amarans, and fully enveloped them. They screamed. This was a task they needed no tongues for, and Pyrrhus' ears filled with the sound of their torment. Did it work? Soon he found his answer. The tendrils locked onto their form. With seemingly acidic properties, they burned through flesh, digging deeper and deeper into their skin. The room filled with screams and the scent of death. It hadn't arrived yet, but before this moment was over, it would. Slowly, painfully, they withered away to a most painful demise. Pyrrhus was furious. It hadn't worked.

The spell was not intended to work like this. While often sorcery was an innate ability, one that the practitioner either possessed or not, there was still something to be said for its refinement. It was important to stick to the incantation, appropriate gestures, whatever was demanded of the spell. There were few limits to what one could do through the Force. What he had done resembled what he had intended to do, but it lacked finesse. It was raw, unrefined. It was Dark Side energies off its leash. He needed to contain it, force it to take the shape he intended. Rather than feel discouraged by his initial failure, he realized he was onto something, and started again.

Pyrrhus returned to the same chant he had before, with the same tonality. One of the Amarans unleashed his dinner from the sight of his mutilated friends, and a few other were quietly sobbing. Despair clung thick to the walls, yet hope was no longer an element. There would be no escape, they knew. This was where they died, this was how they died. Nothing could save them. Not even the faint sound of blaster fire, coming from the outside. Pyrrhus did not pick up on it, too focused on his own ritual. Besides, his forces were well trained and equipped. If there were a few stragglers, they would deal with it. He was free to continue his experiment.

 

[Necrobius Amunrex]

Objective: C - Watch for the Signs
Location: A simple lake
Enemy: Non-Believers.
Posts: 9/20

There he lay, cool and limpid lake lapping wood gently at even the slightest stir of body on plank. It was as a great and shimmering jewel mounted in the emerald lattice of lazy sagging willow trees that wept spindly branches all along the shore, with deep foreboding shade of vague and shapeless things in the dark black realm of the forest behind.

Night birds cried their shrill alien notes, and the throaty drum of lake frogs thrummed ever constant. Listening, watching, Necrobius remained vigilantly alert. For even in this place of sublime beauty, the faint grimace of something sinister seemed to lurk just beyond the veil of reality. Something Primeval.

There, to his left flank, a small lampyrid went aflutter, swooping great circular spirals over water. Body aglow in a radiant light, like mystic fire.

From seemingly nowhere, a moth came too. Body thick, and soft frail wings beating the shadows of night triumphantly as it brushed across his cheek in silent flight. Carefully it floated through cool dark air, taking to surface of the boat where the anchor line lay twisted.

An exhale of wind rippled the dark midnight mirror. That scent? A powerful musk of death and agony -- the fine stench of wanton slaughter. The great blue crescent that hung so serene turned red from flame of war, terrible clouds of smoke from the tinder suffocating the twinkle of stars. Necrobius Amunrex rose to full height, boat rocking precariously.

Two moves brought him to bear over the anchor line.

In frenzy he tugged and heaved, retracting the crying tendril from deep lake one arm pull at a time. More and more it coiled aside his stooped stance -- just how deep was this blaspheming lake?! Harder, faster he pulled. When at last he could feel the great weight of the old anchor tug back against him he gave hard heave and out it came, rattling and drenched. But it was not alone.

For there afore him, a skeleton of Amaran origin, decorated in an enamel of mud and green algae, flesh and fabric that may have once concealed the discolored ivory pallor had despoiled long ago. Suddenly it was all clear. Where he was, why he was here.

The Amaran's, they would die. And the great Master, Seti-Anok, he longed for the taste of their blood one final time. For the blood of the extinct. . . there simply was no finer wine.

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

Objective: Discovering what the Amarans say
Allies: @OS
Enemy: The Amarans
Posts: 8/20

The process the remaining five Amarans now witnessed was eerily similar to what they had just seen. In fact, it was identical (or at least this was the intent of Darth Pyrrhus). Similarly to before, the room fell under the pressing rule of the Dark Side, and Pyrrhus a vessel for its power to find manifestation and become unleashed. The sole occupation of Pyrrhus' mind was to perfect the incantations and other details of this ritual, so that he could perform it right. This time he would not simply unleash it has he had. Even as he let go of the waves of the Dark Side, he would stay focused and attempt to shape them to his will. He could not simply let go.

Outside the sounds of battle was becoming louder, yet it did not register on the Togruta's mind. Only when a sudden explosion shook the foundations of the building they stood in did his focus shatter. He was near the end of the ritual when his eyes once more shut open. This sudden lack of focus, after all the careful build-up had even more horrific consequences than last time.

He felt the heat upon his fingers, and he could see burn marks forming - yet there was no pain. Waves of pure Dark Side energies were unleashed. Like a wall, it came for the poor Amarans who kneeled not far before him. As soon as it came in touch with their fur, it evaporated. Coming close to flesh, started re-shaping and restructuring their physical form. Fur vanished, skin melted. The spell-gone-wrong seemed to melt their very skin. Ultimately, pain and screams faded away. What remained were corpses falling limp, mere husks of their former self. Disintegrated down to the bone. Dead.

Now Pyrrhus felt a fury much more intense than the one he had felt when his first attempt failed. This time, he had felt it. He felt he had it. Yet someone had had the audacity to interrupt him. Unknowingly, sure, but they would be punished all the same. Only now when his mind was brought back to reality did he sense what was truly going on. They were under attack. Amarans? But it coudn't be... They were weak. Someone were attacking them however, and they were gaining ground. He felt a disturbance in the Force, accompanying this hostile force. A presence... A Jedi? Grasping the hilt his lightsaber, the Lord of Ruin stormed out from the city hall and into the streets. He would know who defied him.

 

[Krux Mullarus]

Objective C
Allies: [member="Darth Pyrrhus"] / [member="Darth Azurea"] / [member="Dex Torture"]
Enemies: All furries

Mullarus sighed softly. What childhood?

Of course, he did have one. It was not even a bad one up until his early teenage years. Prior to that, however, he was just a normal kid.

Mullarus felt as if he had become a book with a lock keeping it shut. Recently, after starting to get to know Azurea better, it felt as if she had managed to acquire the key to his lock and open him up. Now she was flipping through the pages, researching everything there was to know about him. Why, was all Mullarus could wonder. What made him interesting enough to care?

"Well...I...don't really know where to start" he chuckled nervously. "Uh...I was born on Anaxes. The first son of a couple of Imperial workers. They were engineers. Brainiacs. My dad even liked to read a lot about war tactics and got very good at strategy games. I lived the life of a normal kid with parents working for the navy for a good long while.

"Then...while working on an Orbital Station orbiting Anaxes, the Republic swooped in and destroyed it. Along with everyone on board. I heard the news from my grandfather, an old Sith Lord, and...I suppose that loss is what drove me to become seduced by the Dark side. Before that day, I had not even known I was born with such powers like my grandfather had...then my life changed for the...worse."

He sighed, suddenly beginning to feel a sense of sorrow. All he wanted in life was to be a normal person, just another guy working for the Imperial Navy on Anaxes. But the will of the Dark side controlled everything, it seemed. Mullarus looked nervous and anxious. He paused, really just thinking of how to go on without sounding like he was begging to be pitied.

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

Objective: Discovering what the Amarans say
Allies: @OS
Enemy: The Amarans
Posts: 9/20

What met Pyrrhus as he stepped outside was the sight of battle. It was a small one, not only because the size of the attackers, but because of the size of their forces. They were Amarans alright, but where they had found the will and courage to fight, he did not know. The answer revealed itself soon, however, as one of the vulpines charged some of Pyrrhus' Nautolan soldiers while swinging a blue lightsaber. He did not know this species produced Jedi, but it would seem that this one did.

That explained everything. His troops had the superior training, and would have gained ground and repelled this attack, had it not been for the Jedi leading the assault against them. What that one had not taken into account was the presence of a Sith Lord. Or perhaps he did, but he had overestimated his abilities. Pyrrhus would tolerate this insurrection no longer.

Pyrrhus' lightsaber burst to life, with that familiar snap-hiss. Almost as if he had felt it ignite through the Force, the Amaran stopped what he was doing and turned his eyes to the Togruta. Pyrrhus wasn't wearing his standard armour, only Sith robes today. But little did it matter. He didn't need the armour, he had the power of the Force and himself.

The two warriors moved into a sprint towards oneanother, before finally blue clashed with the lava-like red of Pyrrhus' curved lightsaber. With the Jedi distracted, Pyrrhus had every confidence that his troops would soon turn the tide of the battle into their favour.

 

[Darth Centax]

Objective: Secure the building's perimeter, and carry out the Sith Lords Orders.
Allies: OS
Location: On the battlefield in front of [member="Darth Pyrrhus"]
Posts 1/20

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6ZH6uwNH6d4​

"Level approach!" Several troopers dropped to cover fire. Unleashed to counter the counter, Connar or Kylath, was one of the legion, only now on [member="Vengeance"]’s teachings claiming his place as one of the acolytes, he did so by claiming his place within the fight, not waiting to be asked. The flash of a red saber, betrayed him as more than a mere unknown trooper out in front of the Sith Lord, cutting a man down by rebounding blaster shots off the saber. He dipped his hand to the dirt to duck, and swiped clean the legs off another Amaran before the fox creature could engage him, taking a cut to his chest's armor for his trouble from a flailing blade. Growing martial prowess, the young Sith moved like a natural within the firefight, giving the agile foxes pause as the Jedi Killers began to fight hand to hand.

Standard white sith trooper armor on, with saber flashing ahead, and rifle on his back poised ready for use, the young half epicanthix, half zeltrix moved with a purpose. Avenging the deaths of Balmorra lost keenly on his mind, his unit was still healing, recovering back at base, and so he moved with only a handful of the most loyal Jedi Killers in training.

“All of them,” Kylath said, losing himself to rage, as the veins on his neck pulsed with raw anger and loathing, his armor running red with the lives that were taken. Unbound Rage, yet to be harnessed fully like a Sith Knight might or controlled like a Sith Lord could, it had its high points, as the young man became as one with the emotion, fury in every strike, punching or crippling joint hits following those that were not outright cut in two.

It was not done without some response from those they faced, fire and shells landed nearby, laser fire ripping apart metal and man, but it was done.

 

[Sera Inkari]

Objective: Relay to her Master the status of their invasion.
Allies: OS
Location: In the shadows, under the bed?
Posts: 2/20

Sera had spent her time in deep meditation and contemplation, trying to better see shreds of possible futures, no surprise there then, what was a surprise was that she was currently sitting in her robes, at what passed for one of the many burrows or hidden complexes on the planet. This particular one was perhaps one of the more central to the planet’s current resistance, such as it was versus the rolling hammer of the One Sith War Machine.

She was advising a particular commander on one Sith movements, all accurate, was she betraying their response, yes and intentionally so.

“Leave your men there, and they will not know what hit them.” Her gentle voice assured the commander to her side, practiced honeyed words, then her usual lingering touch on his arm. He seemed nervous but willing to try anything at this point. Two weeks to gain his confidence, just enough truth to allow her entrance, to be here now at her critical point when time decided what would happen next. Her Master was teaching her to value all life, for her that meant the quicker she ended this conflict the better for those lives in their hands.

So just as his troops neared their Sith enemies position, there was a flash, and before them their bunker's screens went to dead static. Sith shots from orbit rang down right on Amaran heads’, both troops there, and above ground at their bunker, pulled into an ambush. Sera’s lightsaber flicked on, there was barely screaming before there was silence again. Inside their little bunker, far from anywhere in particular, Kintan’s priestess had spared lives by ending one battle quickly and decisively, if only she could have done so for their wider conflict.

Perhaps this was not what her teacher had meant, but she was just starting her lessons with him. Examining her weapon with observant blue eyes, she turned her lightsaber off, pulled her hood up and began to exit their bunker, as if nothing had happened.

"W....why?" Someone said from behind her before they closed their eyes, but there was only one answer, always. "All is the will of the force."

 

[Six-O]

Objective: A - Exterminate Local Populace
Location: Nondescript Village
Enemy: Wretched Vulpine-things
Posts: 11/20

[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ipqqEFoJPL4[/youtube]

Step, step, step. Keep going Ziggs. He'd entered the darkness of the once humble abode, the sway of his gun muzzle constant, unsteady. Where was he? Where was that revolting Droid?! Fear, fear so heavy the canine teeth in his pointed jaw faintly took to chatter. Ziggs tried to sturdy his stance, padding on ever further.

In to the bathroom, Ziggs strode. Horrid stench fouling his nose, and made whiskers shiver on auburn cheeks. He swept gun barrel around clumsily -- an oafish act he'd seen in Action HoloMovies time and again.

Ah, the source of the smell.

Four of the other defenders of East Paw, one of them Vexx. . . maybe. . it was almost impossible to tell -- the face looked vaguely familiar. His grip on the gun weakened, his head felt faint, vision going almost blacker than the dark that hung about the room. The butt of the stock clinked on porcelain edge of bathtub. They'd been hacked of skin and pelt.

A wet, heavy clap hit tiles behind Ziggs, he nearly jumped out of his own fur. He turned with hastey twist, and there the Droid stood. Stretching clawed hand towards him, a wraith in the shadows with great growing red eyes.

"AH!" The small Amaran wailed instinctively.

Ziggs slid back with one jump, his side rubbing the edge of the porcelain basin. Bang. He fired a shot. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. The Slugthrower kept shouting, brief flashes illuminating the blood smeared walls and metal monster. Each shot hit heavy blast armor, panging and twinging loudly in the room, sparks birthing from shattering ballistic rounds.

At the closest point of range, an especially lucky round swept through the plating. A hiss of gas cried wickedly, an auspicious spark swam through the release. And suddenly the room was dark no more.

Flames laughed cruelly from the breached gas hose, draping Six-O under an orange blanket of oppressive heat. The Droid stopped his pursuit, backing as quickly out of the bathroom as he had appeared. Ziggs scrambled, near the toilet, he spotted a grenade belt, he went for it immediately as the monsters music once more began to jowl out.

The rifle fell from grasp, Ziggs somehow managed to trip over it in the process, kicking it over in to the corner, and sending him down on to belly once again.

I'm burnin' I'm burnin' I'm burnin' for you.

The infernal thing sang as metal bolts broke, and a thud indicated the Droid had torn the Flamethrower from it's shoulder.

Small furry hands fumbled with a grenade, he had only a moment before the machine would be upon him again. Ziggs thumbed in the activation nodule, then tossed the sphere at the robot. With a quick kick the door slammed shut, then he jumped, palming his weight over the side of the bathtub, he landed in the carnage of the deep basin with a sickening splash.

The walls shook with terrible anger, the door unhinged and splintered inward. Shattering tile, toilet, sink and mirror with one deafening blast.

Had Ziggs won?

 

[The Angry Cheese]

It does not matter whether the droid won or not. Not to the jetpack-toting figure flying over two-hundred meters overhead, towards a pair of dueling titans. It was not the titans that were his target, however, but a woman riding the larger of the two. A Darjetii. Of course, he couldn't very well fight her while she was on the great beast, let alone when their were two of them wrecking everything. So he would do the next best thing: Even the odds.

Specifically, he rocketed towards the smaller of the titans, hovering just out of its arm's reach while his rangefinder lowers itself, automated targeting systems scanning for any weak points for him to exploit. Other than blasting the eyes are launching a rocket down its throat, he'll have to bid his time until he can properly attack.

And hope I don't get caught in the crossfire.

[member="Reverance"]

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Objective C
[member="Kur-gal Kwaad"]
4/20

Mindless slaughter always turned into some weird propaganda about how powerful or how evil the perpetrators are, but that was beside the point. The point of all this was simple, someone wanted a fortress world, and the inhabitants didn't want that to happen. Perhaps the Amarans had grown fat and lazy, and apathetic under the reign of the Republic. Perhaps they had always been complacent and weak. In the end, the cause of their weakness wasn't important, only that they were. Only that they were rapidly being replaced by One Sith Military personnel as each minute passed.

I stopped and planted my feet, rising up and kicking open a door with a surge of energy. Inside six Amarans were powering up a generator to an E-Web looked fearfully up from their task as my translucent form entered the room. In a moment the room was filled with a torrent of fire and the weapon rapidly melted into a bent and broken shape, burning bodies left in heaps as the cries died down.

Like a beast I turned out of the room, continuing down the hallways a head of the main contingent of Mandalorians. Finding a window, I observed the Yuuzhan Vong hunting the streets. They rode monsters and hunted like monsters. Perhaps soon they would need a real challenge. "Hmm. I wonder how the higher ups would feel about me giving them something worth fighting..." I muttered quietly to myself. It wouldn't hurt to send someone a message asking first, I didn't want to fracture what relationships I had over some petty wanting to fight.