Amar Mio! [One Sith Dominion of Amar]

[Vrag]

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

After asserting their dominance over the formerly Republican planet of Contruum, the One Sith turned to all the worlds that had been cut off from the crumbling influence of the democratic regime in the wake of their victory in the east. Hundreds of peoples, cities, and resources, all there for the taking. The war machine always needed more, needed hands and material and blood to fuel the conquest, to reach ever farther and spread the order of the Sith.

And they understood order well, these men and women of discipline, these peoples of all stripes and colors that banded together under the banners of red and black, unheeding of the crimes against fashion they committed in doing so. They were the practical sort, too, these men and women, and they cared little for the stripes and colors they wore, so long as they served their purpose.

Everything served its purpose under the rule of the Dark Lord. Every person, every city, every planet.

And the purpose for this planet was to die.

To bend under the overwhelming legions that would swarm it like plague, to kneel and succumb as they let its blood until there was nothing left to spill. And once Amar finally collapsed, the One Sith would take it whole, and build it back up to heights never witnessed before by the world. They would construct fortresses of metal and ferrocrete, and spires to smite the sky itself as they reached towards the sun. They would build cities, and mines, and walls, and prisons, and they look upon what they had wrought, and it would be good.

But before that, they would cleanse it.

With fire, and with sword, and with the roaring power of the Force in their wings.

Spoiler: Objectives

A.) Extermination of the Amaran Species.
B.) Repurpose of Amar as a Fortress World of The One Sith.
C.) Do Whatever The Kark We Want.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_x3PlU9kjf0​

Oh, what a time it was.

The Empire had struck a crushing blow against the Republic, and now hundreds of star systems were laid bare before the encroaching Sith war machine. Some would be peacefully absorbed into the Empire, but others would have to be culled... purified by cleansing fire wrought forth by the Dark Lord's chosen champions, his butchers, his ravagers, the heralds of his will and his messengers of doom. One such champion stood on the bridge of the gargantuan warship, Ruination, in orbit above the defenseless world of Amar. His hood was drawn back to reveal his hateful features as his glare bore into the blue silhouette of the native species, the disgusting vulpine Amaran. Such races disgusted him, especially ones that made a reputation of being fickle traders. They would serve no purpose in the Empire, and thus everything useless had to be purged so that the Empire could remain strong.

Darth Vornskr was more than happy to bring this world to the sword, as was the dark-plated warrior that stood beside him with a hungry grin plastered across his equally marred features. He was Highlord Osbasid, leader of the infamous Blackblade Guard, and devoted servant of Darth Vornskr. For this magnificent occasion the entirety of the Guard had been summoned forth, and mingled many levels below in the warship's barracks, preparing themselves for the slaughter. Weapons were primed, armor was locked, and chants of carnage could be heard even through the thick durasteel walls of the ship's interior.

"The warfleet is assembled, milord. And your army is mobilized, give us the word and set us loose." Osbasid said with inhumane zealotry and fanatical hunger, his eyes filled with fire and hate that, while nothing compared to that which reflected in Vornskr's eyes; was still impressive to see in a mortal man. Vornskr didn't look upon the man for a long while, his eyes still absorbing the information that rolled off of the holographic displays and various monitors that dotted the warship's command center, but eventually he tore his eyes away to look upon his own champion.

"Then go forth, Osbasid. Bathe in the blood of these mongrels, by the day's end may we all drown in that which we spill." With a roar of what could be considered jubilation, the Highlord slapped on his battle helmet and thundered off to the lower decks to inform the Guard that it was finally time to attack. From the underbelly of the Ruination would stream rivers of assault gunships and marine transports, each one carrying swaths of Blackblade Guardsman all eager for the thrill of war.

And the gore of genocide.

[ 1 / 20 ]​

 

[Sage Bane]

Objective: A, kill fox people
Location: Amaran beast farm
Allies: [member="Darth Rapax"]
Enemies: Anyone who wants to dance
1/20

Dirty, stinking fox people. That's what these folks looked like to Sage. Diminutive in size with long bushy tails, the Amaran seemed to be one of the weakest and most useless sentient species that Sage had ever had the pleasure of wiping out. As the Hand of the Dark Lord exited the dropship that took him to the surface to carry out the Dark Lord's order to extinguish the native species, the smell of dung permeated the air. The Sith Lord and his soldiers landed a few shakes from a beast farm, where the livestock within would be possessed for use by the One Sith. Beasts like the bursa, ronto, and kybucks would be confiscated from the Amaran by force and sold at livestock fairs or kept for mounts for One Sith soldiers. Sage himself had begun his own collection of exotic mounts in his stables on Fresia. He hoped he could find a few to add to it today.

With the Hand was Knight Rapax, a warrior who had fought alongside his brother Cryax in the mountains of Contruum. The talented Knight was said to have a knack for the dark arts, and Sage was all too happy to teach Darth Rapax the skills he himself had learned from the scrolls of Darth Sanguis. They would start with the spell of Sutta Chwituskak, or Bolt of Hatred, an ancient Sith power that allowed the caster to use his or her own hatred to pierce a living creature.

 

[Caulder Dune]

Objective: C
Posts: [01/20]

Genocide, as Adekos had always maintained, was a waste of time and money. It was silly. If an entire sentient species was exterminated from the face of a planet, they couldn't do anything productive. They could not work in factories, pay taxes, construct buildings, dig mines, fight on the front lines, or just do anything worthwhile. Their rotting corpses could potentially serve as adequate fertilizer, or food rations if you were into that kind of thing, but that was more of a "salvage what we can from the situation" purpose than anything else. Even if the Amarans were basically little more than highly mutated vulpine creatures, they still generated a decent amount of export from their dingy little world. They were decent enough traders.

But it wasn't Adekos' decision to make whether the Amarans got to live under the yoke of the One Sith or die ignominious deaths before being flung into shallow mass graves. No one would have cared to listen to him even if he had urged another course of action- he had switched teams too many times to be taken seriously. Ultimately that was for the best. When you were beneath everyone's notice, they tended not to care what it was you did with your time. Right now, Adekos was spending his time on Amar wisely with a trip to one of the planet's more prestigious museums. A number of other recovery teams under his command had been dispatched to other centers of Amaran culture and learning: universities, libraries, theaters, cultural centers, and, of course, other museums.

When entire species were wiped out and exterminated from the galaxy, their baubles tended to be worth more. Since Vornskr killed most of the Togorians and burned their artwork, Togorian paintings and sculptures had seen a remarkable increase in price among collectors. Adekos gave the relevant data to his set of accounting and economic planning droids. The results were as expected. Amaran trinkets were about to get a lot more expensive. The more valuable pieces of art were identified and marked for capture. To make sure the prices did, in fact, go up astronomically, the rest would be left for destruction at the hands of the One Sith.

 

[Rapax]

Objective: A, kill fox people
Location: Amaran beast farm
Allies: [member="Sage Bane"]
Enemies: Anyone who wants to dance

Rapax was anxious to learn....mainly because this was more into sorcery a skill he hasn't delven into to much lately ...that will change today. He was going to learn under Sage Bane for this skill...which was good given it was because of the man that he is what he is today. He followed him slaying any Amaran near him with his lightsabers. He waited for there lesson to begin on the spell in question ...useing his own hatred for an attack....would prove very very useful he had more then enough hatred built in him to use it indeed.

 

[Khallesh]

Objective A

That thing that, that very rare thing that scared Khallesh. It had finally happened. Her vessel had been shot down before delivering them to the heart of battle.

Fortunately the Yorik Trema had made some semblance of an emergency and Khallesh was still in one piece. She was, however, really very angry.

Still, she reflected, the day was looking up. "Move!" she spat at one of the Chazrach that lingered in her path for too long. She only had twenty of the creatures with chitin carbines and four warriors. According to her blaze bug there was a company of soldiers bearing down on them, and several infidel machines.

A famous last stand was far more appealing than an anonymous death at the hands of a surface to air missile in Khallesh' opinion.

 

[Caulder Dune]

Objective: C
Posts: [02/20]

Sirens were blaring throughout the entire city. Pillars of smoke rose ominously into the air, disrupted occasionally when a starfighter shot through them. The Amarans were wealthy enough- they had a reasonable defense force to make some sort of opposition against their extermination. Without the Republic to back them, however, it was only delaying the inevitable. The fighting would be fierce and brief. While the Amaran military and airforce were focusing on defending the areas of the most densely populated sections of the city, Adekos' shuttle would discretely land on the roof of a certain museum. Once he disembarked the shuttle, flanked by a duo of TA5 Lightsaber Droids, Adekos checked to make sure his prized gauntlet was properly affixed to his arm. He then surveyed the surrounding courtyard, which was littered with the debris of a hasty evacuation. Tourists and natives alike had abandoned their property all over the place.

He doubted anyone had stuck around. Not when there were evacuation transports they needed to find. Adekos was largely apathetic to the plight of the Amarans. He was more concerned about any non-Amaran tourists caught in the crossfire. Now that would have been a real tragedy. The Umbaran waited a few moments while the droids meticulously breached the roof access door and marched in. When they announced it was clear, Adekos followed suit. For now, the Amarans would be more occupied with defending the planet than saving the most significant aspects of their history and culture. Maybe as the fighting died down, they would engage in some clandestine raids designed to save as many works of art as possible. A movie would be made about it, grossing highly in the cinemas of Republic worlds and boosting morale.

Adekos would make sure he was long gone before anything of that sort could come to pass.

 

[Reverance]

Objective A: Destruction of the indigenous population
Allies: One Sith
Enemies: Furry people
[1/20]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OJbqplkBBv8​

An intensity overwhelmed him, a bloodlust hidden latent behind the eyes. Not so nearly latent anymore. He could taste the spray now, coming out of hyperspace and fixing his eye upon the world. The Teleute moaned, it wanted part of this war and the smell of it's bloodlust pushed scents of bile through the main halls of it's bowels. But this wasn't for, the dread weapon craving would continue. Like a beast given just the taste of it but never the full consumption, it would learn to eat anything. But for now, it was the Warmaster and his congregation that would prey upon this world. The sort of prayer and sin made to the Yun'O, as they washed over the streets like blood running freely. In their homes, in their places of celebration, in their places of religion. The people of Amar would not last long.

As he stood from his throne, he pushed his weight across the reflective floors, similar to what was found in the grashals. Finding himself in the belly of the beast, just prior to the colon and sphincter where the ships shot out in the dark night, Reverance gave wavering glance to those who stood within the carapace of their slayer ships and gunship analogs. With a smile from ear to ear, he boarded the yorik-trema. A feeling of the usual, of the right, he strapped in as the pilot ejected the vehicle towards the planet.

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Allies: [member="Darth Adekos"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.6667px]Objective: C[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.6667px]Posts: [01/20][/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]"Why am I not surprised finding you here." the Voice of the Dark Lord spoke, gliding out of the shadows. It wasn’t exactly clear if he had been here all along or had just arrived himself. Few things could really be said for certain these days -- with Neph’s death a lot changed, while some things… just stayed the same. The good ol’ fight against the Republic went on, Adekos was still avoiding any real fighting and apparently Carach would spent his time chit-chatting, instead of doing something useful.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]"Exterminating the fox-like creatures not to your liking?"[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]He would ask before studying the courtyard himself. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]It was pretty empty, all things considered. The workers probably figured this wasn’t exactly a defensible position and just fled, leaving anything of value behind? Perhaps.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]"What are [/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]we [/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]doing here?"[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]If Adekos had held any hope that Carach would just leave, it would be gone now.[/SIZE]

 

[Vrag]

Objective B: World of Iron
Allies: OS
Enemies: Indigenous populace
[2/20]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JBoizPA1qV4​

Blood ran hot in her veins as she set her foot upon the surface of the planet. It was the oil that kept the cogs of the warmachine turning smoothly, day in, day out, and she gave it as freely as she took it. On Contruum, to break the back of the Galactic Republic; on Balmorra, to show that the One Sith was as unified a front in assault as they were in defense; on Amar, remind the Galaxy that their freedom from overlords was as short-lived as the remainder of their lives.

Pav av Mor Adone hung in the sky like birds of prey, hovering idly as they coursed high above, looking for their pitiful quarry. No-one was safe tonight, not from the fire and brimstone that the armies of the Sith had brought to their doorstep.

When they were done sweeping across the lands, there would be no doorstep to speak of anymore. Whole cities, leveled to the ground along with their inhabitants; enslaved or slain, it mattered little. This was another kind of celebration, a momentary lengthening of the leash upon which the Dark Lord held chained his hounds of war. It was a reward for their faithful service and unwavering loyalty in the face of adversity; an indulgence to those of darker minds and darker hearts. It was the gracious gesture of a hand, given in largess and generosity of a benevolent tyrant.

Go, it spoke, as the One Sith trampled the world to dust. Go and conquer.

And so they went, and they conquered.

 

[Reverance]

Objective A: Destruction of the indigenous population
Allies: One Sith
Enemies: Furry people
[2/20]

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

The yorik-trema cracked loudly across the durasteel buildings surface. Mouth slobbering, teeth gnawing and gnashing, the thing bit in hard and bounced through glass and stone. Through work place areas and community eating, the beast rolled hard and tumbled over itself as the building shook and moaned. As it came to a stop, killing several Amar in it's process, the stomach opened to release the stench of the innards and things contained within.

Reverance stepped out slowly, the flash of the Chom-Huun ignited in a dual fury as he stepped forward. Security was hot on the planet, inclement attack enough to make considerable approach difficult at best. Nevertheless, the Wrath wasn't interested in such considerations. Blasted chopped out across glass cubicles as he flung his vong sabers in whirls in front of him. Scorching the ground and sending bolts upward and out, the Yuuzhan Vong contingent poured out from the beast behind him.

Growling as a furry took a ricocheted blaster shot to the face, Reverance swung his chom-huun forward and yelled a semblance of command, to attack. But it wasn't needed, the wave was already moving forward and Reverance was more than happy to pick up what pieces were left. Coming up on a cowering individual, Reverance swung outward with a flick of the wrist, the head toppling down and landing in a matted fur and blood. It rolled and fell out of the hole created by the Yorik-Trema, bouncing off a window cover before descending to the ground below.

 

[Caulder Dune]

Objective: C
Posts: [03/20]

[member="Darth Carach"]

Adekos' neck hairs stood on end, which was then followed by a profound urge to vomit. This meant Carach was near, and soon enough this was confirmed when the lecher himself stepped out of the shadows. Adekos halted his entrance into the building to turn around and look at the newly arrived Voice. Carach was a longtime colleague, despite his propensity to sticking his genitals into apprentices that didn't belong to him, which ultimately resulted in said apprentice running off into the midst of some backwater world to play grab-ass with a bearded troglodyte.

It wasn't so much that he held a grudge. It was moreso that he was just unwilling to simply forget about it. In any event, Adekos answered his questions. "Ostensibly because I've done this sort of thing before. And no, it is hardly 'to my liking.' You should know by now I am a man of civilized practice. Wanton slaughter hardly suits me."

Normally he would have waved Carach away and told him to mind his own business; find a different museum to lose. But Carach was far more ingrained within the One Sith than him and lacked the reputation of flip-flopping. It was likely that only their amicable working relationship (along with the one he maintained with Vornskr) that made his re-transition into their ranks a smooth one. Minor details. Adekos wasn't short on time, but he did have a schedule to maintain. Carach could do what he wished in the meantime, so long as he didn't try to snag what Adekos had marked.

"I, frankly, don't know what you're doing here. I'm going to make some money. The winds of change are blowing on Telti, and I'll need the financial capital to keep it that way."

 

[Corey's OOC]

Objective Anti-A
Enemies: [member="Sage Bane"] [member="Darth Rapax"]
1/20

Now, to say Lucas Gravois cared about the species that lived on Amar for any reason but an academic one, would be a complete and utter lie. Lucas Gravois did not care but certain things could always be useful, even if the One Sith were too blind to see it. The Acolyte was going to see what he could do on this world, what he could learn, and what he could take for his own. Yes, he knew he was stepping into a world of gods and monsters, as was what the One Sith was created of, lesser beings with too much flair and no finesse, but it didn’t matter to him.

There were many on their way to the beast farm, and Lucas was going to as well.

The man had constructed a lightsaber, red blade, unrefined and flashing with unfocused power, the blade was not going to do well in a prolonged fight against a properly completed weapon. But it was going to do what it could today.

The One Sith were foolish, they were a waste and they were prideful.

He was going to wait for his moment to strike.

 

[Six-O]

Objective: A - Exterminate Local Populace
Location: Nondescript Village
Allies: One Sith
Enemy: Wretched Vulpine-things
Posts: 1/20

It was a question the Droid always found he asked himself as he traveled from one end of the Galaxy to the other. A true puzzle -- a paradox -- of the Cosmos. Did the Sentient species that inhabited these filthy worlds shape the planets they called home? Or did the great orbs of life shape the ugly soft mongrels that strode atop their soil, and within their embrace of gravity.

So mysterious, so strange was the thought.

Take for instance, this world, Amar. Six-O began to ponder, as a beautiful and deadly wave of fire swelled from over right shoulder. A great orange tongue that stretched forward to lick and taste the red furry things that scuttled about in terror. Yelping and barking in their mongrel canine language.

They quite clearly were not built for such harsh treatment, the torrent of flame continued, they were not of a hardy nature at all it seemed to the Droid. From his left hand, a burst of precision fire from a DT-57 Blaster Pistol tore a pointed, wet-nosed, Amaran muzzle from it's facial structure. Quieting that infernal yelping.

No, thought Six-O, although it could be argued with good measure that all Organic life was inferior in every way -- except the Force -- it was definitely a case that tougher conditions, and more brutal environments bred hardier fare. Thus an observer could rightly conclude that the naturally less baleful disposition of these pups in comparison to he and his One Sith allies was more than enough merit to erase them from the greater Galaxy. It had to be done, the logic was sound.

It was unavoidable, he must kill them all.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fGnVDli5d1Q​

As was tradition, Highlord Osbasid was the first Blackblade to make planet-fall followed shortly by roughly ten thousand others all hungering for war. Their descent was met with difficult, but they had landed in hotter battle zones before, and so traversing the screen of flak fire was trivial at best. The first regiments that rushed out to meet the Blackblades were ruthlessly cut down by the Blackblades as they disembarked from the gullets of their respective transports. Soon enough the entirety of the Guard reached the ground, either by successfully landing or by crashing headfirst into the blood-soaked ground as their transports were blown out of the sky by a lucky flak hit. It mattered not, they reveled in death and destruction on a level that bordered fanatical worship, and no matter what was thrown at them they would continue to fight and kill as long as they were able.

It was why they were so feared across the galaxy.

The Amarans fell back and regrouped, digging defensive trench emplacements as the horde of dark-plated butchers marched forward followed by Graug siege breakers astride obscene beasts of war that towered above the swarm of Blackblades like skyscrapers. Despite the screen of blaster fire that belched forth from the Amaran's emplacements the Blackblades did not break stride of flinch as dozens of their comrades were cut down beside them. Eventually they swarmed the first lines of trenches, brutally slaughtering the Amaran defenders with a combination of their blaster rifles and the bladed bayonets that they had affixed to the front of their guns. Eventually the first wave of Blackblades began to defile and dismember the corpses of the Amaran that had perished, while the second wave of Blackblades continued on to attack the next series of emplacements and repeat the acts of the first, and such would continue as the nigh unending ranks of the Blackblades washed over the defenders like a tide of death.

Sometime later Darth Vornskr would land upon the fields of carnage, standing pridefully amidst the carnage as his army swept over the land like a pestilence. He breathed in deeply and let out a satisfied sigh before turning to his field commander, an Imperial dressed to peak perfection despite the grisly environment.

"Status report."

"They fall in droves, milord. Without the Republic, they are no match for our forces. However; reconnaissance from the front reports that the Amarans have hastily constructed larger fortifications, and have activated some Republic Z-10T battle tanks and Cabracan AT-LTAs left over from the Republic garrison that was stationed here before the Battle of Contruum. They've begun to shell our vanguard, and the march has slowed considerably."

Darth Vornskr frowned, his Blackblade Guard was primarily an elite infantry legion, and while they had the capacity to field some devastation machines of war, they hadn't yet been deployed and some of which had been destroyed en route by heavier screens of flak. "Tell the vanguard to continue it's advance, I will deal with these tanks." He unsnapped his cloak, letting the piece of garment flutter away in the wind as he activated his lightsaber and with a single leap bounded up onto the roof of a small structure and continued on deeper into the ruined city outskirts.

[ 2 / 20 ]​

 

[Reverance]

Objective A: Destruction of the indigenous population
Allies: One Sith
Enemies: Furry people
[3/20]

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

​

Blaster fire singed across the nearly grey chitin of the ygdris and he rolled his shoulder in response, laughing. The chom-huun's came together, touching embrace across the small of his back in interlocking legs. Two more bolts smacked across his left pectoral and stomach, reeling back from the kinetic impact, but only enough for the singular step back. Baring his teeth, he looked towards four Amaran staring him down in a large hallway. It smelled of hay and feces, the roar of beasts in the foray. Charging forward with the aid of speed and the armor, he ran a shoulder into the chest of one of his attackers. The furry trousered beast went flying across the hallway as Reverance turned to his left.

Mid punch, right hand grabbed the back of the next attacker by the head and smashed his head into the metal. Once perfect, now dented, he pulled back and hit the head against it once more as the two attackers left screamed and unloaded blasters into his back. Between the under suit and the armor, the heat dissipated across his back as he spun low, uppercutting one right at the back of his knee. With a shot up, the amaran twirled in the air before bouncing off the ceiling. Follow through, Reverance grabbed the other by the neck and flung him up. Coming back down, Reverance caught him by the head and where his eyes once were, the Wrath's thumbs pressed in. Until there was nothing left but squirming fur.

Dropping the corpse, he approached another hallway and pushed his finger against the signage. An arrow. Beast Containment. He smiled and rubbed his hands against the metal walls, smearing blood, as he whistled while walking down the hallway. He holstered one of the blaster rifles. For the fun.

 

[Six-O]

Objective: A - Exterminate Local Populace
Location: Nondescript Village
Enemy: Wretched Vulpine-things
Posts: 2/20

A dull concussion, and metallic pang. From somewhere in the village a shot had managed to stretch out and strike the Droid, a simple slug, no damage seemed present. A quick scan flowed through his view screens. The trajectory mapping designated the three most likely sources of origin.

The Droid strode onward, a definitive growl from servos, and the Blaster pistol found itself stowed back in holster. DLT-20A swung from around his shoulder, a detonation from a sloppily lobbed grenade regurgitated black soil and staggered IGa-60 leftwards, but still he marched on. Perhaps they had some fight in them after all.

The Droid began to unleash a maddening wave of bolts from his rifle. Heavy thuds yawning from wooden walls as the beams tore through like the stab of a pencil through single sheet of paper.

Phup phup phup phup.

The weapon chanted on, it was personal now. Did such pitiful things not know whom they were going to War with? Could they not tell by the exquisite construction of his chassis, by the adroit way in which he suppressed their vectors of attack -- like a painter stroking his brush across the finest masterpiece in his woefully short life. Left right, right left.

For at first they were merely going to die, but now. Now they would forge the leather that he, Six-O, would wear adrape his shoulders. A fine cape of red fur to forever remind the Galaxy that unjustified violence against his continued existence would be met with terrible consequence.

 

[Setzi Lunelle]

Objective C
Allies: [member="Dex Torture"] [member="Darth Pyrrhus"]
Enemies: None so far
Posts: 1/20

Darth Azurea was squarely in the camp of the One Sith that found genocide quite wasteful. While her companion, Darth Pyrrhus, would disagree and would criticize the poor Amaran for not being strong enough nor able to protect themselves and would therefore get what they deserved, the Sith Knight felt that these slight-in-stature fox beings were just part of the cosmic plan in the universe. There were the strong like the Sith and the weak like the Amarans.

Therefore the Amarans would have a place: as slaves to be captured by the Karazak Slavers Cooperative and sold off as clever assistants or accountants to some far-off Hutt world.

When Azurea first settled into Glee Anselm with Pyrrhus, she abhorred slavery and was very much against it. Her persuasive Master eventually got her to the point of tolerance. When he forcefully took over the KSC, she also reaped the rewards of the lucrative slave trade. This would be her first mission to actually capture slaves. Lucky for her, they were benevolent fox creatures which is why Tanek put her in charge of corralling them.

The planet was in a state of emergency, and The Pirate's Foe descended into a hotbed of furry panic and woe. Setzi shored up the vessel and prepared to debark with her 2 Battle Droids, 5 Labor Droids and 1 Field Medic Droid, all originally mechanical workers who assisted her when she was in AgriCorps. The Pirate's Foe had a large cargo bay and would be able to hold over 700 tons of cargo, including sentient cargo.

"It may be a good idea to start with the wounded," said Azurea to the Medic Droid. "We'll collect a few Amarans with non-critical injuries, and you can begin to patch them up on the ship. Understand?"

Waste not, want not.

 

[Vrag]

Objective B: World of Iron
Allies: OS
Enemies: Indigenous populace
[3/20]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vPmx3DCLv00​

Behind her, a massive Savan-class carrier followed.

It was like a giant among insects, dwarfing the swarms of smaller dropships as they landed and took off again, to bring more troops and equipment from the fleets above the planet. Those, however, were secondary to Vrag's interest. Currently, her eyes were fixated upon the thick hull of the Savan, upon its bulking mass as it loomed over its surroundings like an obelisk of death they had come to sow.

Its massive jaws opened with a long, drawn-out creak, the landing ramp descending slowly but surely towards the trampled soil surrounding it. Its shadow grew and grew, consuming all beneath it until it touched the ground with the slightest of thuds.

The anticlimax was almost palpable, and for a moment the whole planet held its breath.

Then from the bowels of the vessel, a massive horn emerged, dull and caked with blood of hundreds. A curved fang followed, and then another, thick and heavy and looking like it could raze whole buildings with little more than turn of its head.

The beast reared its head and roared to the skies, its call shaking the earth and piercing the ears of the bystanders. Soldiers cowered and averted their eyes from the towering monster as it strode down the ramp and sunk its clawed hooves into the soil of Amar, and the creature in turn paid them little mind.

It had a scent to track, and the scent was powerful indeed. It spoke of rent flesh and broken bone, of tumbling houses and burning bridges, of whole civilizations collapsing under a single, unified tide of purpose and discipline pressing against it.

It was the scent of death, and the Tsii Q'aah would follow it until there was nothing left to kill.

 

[Six-O]

Objective: A - Exterminate Local Populace
Location: Nondescript Village
Enemy: Wretched Vulpine-things
Posts: 3/20

"Not yet, don't make a move yet. Let it walk in!" Ziggs Sprocket, local Amaran mechanic informed quietly.

He was with a group of twelve, most of the early onslaught had not been all that devastating to the small village of East Paw.

"We just gotta hold 'em off for the others." Vexx, a Soda Jerk by local trade, replied. "He's all alone, and there's twelve of us."

"Doesn't matt'r much. It's just a stupid Droid. Blow it up."

"No! If you run out there you'll just be gunned down like the others. We gotta do it right."

"Ya, an' how we gonna do it?"

"Just follow my lead, I gotta plan." Said Ziggs with authority.

In reality Ziggs Sprocket really had no plan, but someone had to take charge. The One Sith had arrived, and they were slaughtering his people by the millions. He never thought it'd happen to this town, he never thought they'd have to fight. But his people had taken to refuge hours before at the far end of the village, and even as the mechanical sentient feasted on stragglers, he knew if he ever made it to the end of the cul-de-sac he'd gorge on everyone that had been too stubborn to go.

Thus the small vulpine crouched low behind a wooden building, stretching his little fox-head over the edge to peer out at the killer of his kin.

"Once he gets to the Cafe, hit him from behind, right guys?!"

"Right!" They barked, very hushed like.

They. Needed. To. Die.