Amar Mio! [One Sith Dominion of Amar]

[The Angry Cheese]

[member="Draco Vereen"]

He widens his eyes when he realizes what it is, launching his jetpack's single missile at the creatures eyes before drawing his twin Westar-34s, continuing the onslaught upon the Rakamat's face. He activates Mandalorian communications, broadcasting it to all Mandalorians planetside.

"There is a kriffing Yuuzhan Vong RAKAMAT here! Opening fire on it now, before another Yuuzhan Vong War can start!"

Despite the massive size difference, and the fact Rakamats were known to be indesctructible... that was about 800 years ago. Things have changed, weapons have gotten more advanced. Now, it should be able to be brought down by conventional means.

 

[Kur-gal Kwaad]

Objective C: Slay
Allies: [member="Draco Vereen"]
Enemies: Amarans
[10/20]


Kur-gal felt the rush of blood hum in his ears, drowning out all else. In a beseiged city, that was a rather astounding feat to be sure, especially when one was riding with an Otliq'Vaghrokka dead-set on trampling to dust any and all that stood in their way.

Still, the Dragon was a big man, towering a good three heads above the average spacer, if not more. His shoulders were broad enough for two others to comfortably stand abreast and still not hide him whole, and he weighed enough to be a standalone class in every decent fighting championship.

But that was besides the point, because currently, he was preparing to dismount his beast mid-stampede, which was a rather risky maneuver. Still, Kur-gal had never been known to be the careful type. He preferred to come barreling in through the door, Arkanian heads blazing and a hissing amphistaff in hand. Or a sharpened, toxin-weeping tsaisi. Whichever got the job done, the Slayer wasn't overly picky.

He only wanted to kill.

The instinct was bred into every ounce of his being, even more so than the regular Yuuzhan Vong Warrior, and the countless biots grafted onto his body did nothing to help the situation. Oftentimes, if he went without bloodshed for a few days, the man would experience something akin to withdrawal symptoms, and the effects were maddening enough to send him on veritable killing sprees if he foolishly waited too long.

So instead of going mad every few weeks, the Dragon murdered in moderation every other day or so, and everyone was all the happier.

His current target? A half-collapsed villa in the suburbs of the burning city. At first glance, the massive house seemed abandoned, but he could smell the stench of the furry creatures cowering behind the caved-in walls.

"Tiu-tu."

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Objective C
[member="Tracinya be Gra'tua"] [member="Kur-gal Kwaad"]
5/20

"Hey kid. Take it from me, this isn't your fight. Let the vong do as they do or you are gonna get killed out there. Send me your coordinates and I'll come grab you." I said over the comm at the new arrival. What the hell was he thinking coming alone to a war zone.

"Gorran, see if you can find that kid and drag him out of here." I said on a private channel. The big beskar clad wookiee bellowed a response and started moving. I could hear the heavy stomps of the wookiee rushing through the buildings even as he clicked the comms. Alright, maybe I can save that kid.

"Legion Commander. There is a mandalorian on the ground. Do not engage, I'm on him." I called, hoping that would stave off the inevitable vong killing the crap out of the poor kid. What the heck was he thinking coming to Amar and trying to fight a Rakamat. It didn't matter. All that mattered was complete the contract and maybe not count him among the dead.

I glanced out of a window and could see the Yuuzhan Vong taking their time burning everything in their path.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fTYXbFsWg-M​

​

The vehicles had finally arrived, the screen of anti-air flak had subsided as the already present Imperial ground forces spread across Amar like a cancer, destroying anything in it's wake. The first wave of transports delivered a swath of AT-HKs (All Terrain Hunter Killers) whose anti-personnel weaponry would serve well against the primarily infantry-bound Amaran minutemen. Already the Blackblades formed columns and began to march in an orderly fashion out of the city, following the main road towards the next Amaran settlement that would serve as another killing field. Then came the specially commissioned IW-O2A/HFs armed with self-propelled thermobaric artillery rounds that could be launched at enemy fortifications two hundred kilometers away at maximum and twenty kilometer at minimum. They would move behind the central mass of the Blackblade army, lumbering alongside the Graug-ridden Glycons hauling massive wagons filled with bruised and beaten Amaran slaves; who shrunk away each time one of their Graug handlers neared the grime-slick bars.

Darth Vornskr and his generals rode in front of the artillery lines in a military-grade battle chariot; the vessel hovering several feet off the ground and moving at a pace slightly swifter than that of a man's walking pace. All structures / lesser settlements along the route to the next city would be razed, and the inhabitants either butchered, thrown into the slaving cages, or eaten alive by the Glycons.

A horrific experience either way to split it.

But now the distant lights of the city were in view, and the Lohengrins aligned themselves up in formation, and began to shell the city with their thermobaric bombs whilst the Blackblade army prepared itself for the charge after the shells had fallen silent.

[ 5 / 20 ]​

 

[The Angry Cheese]

[member="Draco Vereen"]

"But I was hired to take down this Sith. I'm not letting a target get away, even if it means killing a Vong." He replies to the elder Mando, juking to the right when a massive arm came his way. Seeing as he's not doing any good with his blasters, he rockets away from them, landing on a nearby hill to rest and rearm. Sliding another power pack into his leftmost Westar, he holsters the two blaster pistols as he looks on at the dueling monsters.

 

[Khallesh]

Khallesh' Vonduun Skerr Kyrric was spattered with a mix of red and black gore. Her armour was the canvas for work of art of intricate, contrasting patterns. Perhaps her next tattoo would take inspiration from it. She edged through the grasslands to get a better view on the ravine.

So far she had lost half of her chazrach contingent and a single warrior. In return they’d killed at least fifty soldiers and destroyed one of their armoured vehicles. Now the enemy was being more tentative, gathering their strength. The crashed Yorik Trema had in fact come down in a tactically significant location and their stand was now delaying enemy operations. What a shame that a trifling thing like a crashed ship was causing such wide ranging issues to a significant host looking to flank a Sith force.

The enemy had left their scouts watching the deserted Yuuzhan Vong, whilst their commanders planned the next move. Unfortunately those scouts now lay in pools of their own blood, their necks slit wide open. And now Khallesh and her host were looking down at their command vehicles.

 

[Khallesh]

.

 

[Kur-gal Kwaad]

Objective C: Slay
Allies: [member="Draco Vereen"]
Enemies: Amarans
[11/20]


The Dragon reared his head with an low growl as his oggzil burst to life with the projection of the helmeted Mandalorian. His orange eyes stared at the protruding flesh until the man finished speaking, hard and sharp as they gleamed in the darkness of the villa.

"Zuul ro'ik, kane a bar," he sneered at the biot grafted onto his shoulder, swallowing the blood in his mouth before speaking again, this time in the sharp tones of Basic.

"If he stays out of the way, he will be left alive," he acquiesced grudgingly and cut off the line, turning his face back to the three smears on the wall beside him. The fourth smear-to-be was trembling in the corner, holding onto an old blaster pistol with an empty powercell. His horned shadow lazily crawled over the doubled body of the cowering Amaran, bending over the contours of its blood-matted fur as it climbed ever higher.

"Wh— what are you?" the fear-stricken creature managed to squeeze out in a tight voice between the clattering of its teeth. It craned its neck to look up at the massive monster in his living room, too tall to fit without hunching over beneath the ceiling. A broken lamp hanging limply from its wire a few paces away was testament enough to that.

"Tav-tu mat."

And then he brought down the tsaisi, and with it, death.

 

[Khallesh]

Khallesh was used to this sight now. Three armoured vehicles backed up together, with temporary canvas on a frame between them. Out in the open the officers talked together. Such pitiful creatures. The officers sat back and planned as they sent forth their pawns to be sacrificed. It is not sacrifice if you are not prepared to make it yourself, Khallesh thought to herself.

A few silent hand gestures to her comrades and all three had blast bugs in their hands. Behind them, spread out in the long grass, the chazrach waited impatiently. She narrowed her eyes, considering the wind and angles.

“Now,” she whispered. Despite each having suffered serious wounds already, the three Yuuzhan Vong were on their feet in a flash. The air hissed as three blast bugs cut a path towards their targets.

She closed her eyes for a moment as she ran, seeing the white flash against her eyelids. When she opened them again the area surrounding the three vehicles was covered in ash. Two of the vehicles had been destroyed by the bugs exploding inside them.

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Objective C
[member="Tracinya be Gra'tua"] [member="Kur-gal Kwaad"]

"Much obliged Legion Commander."

Literally the worst time to take a contract against a Sith was when they were invading a place and storming the castle. "Aight, I am coming to give you a hand." It was a lie, but he didn't need to know that. All he needed to know was that he had back up in route. Clicking back over to the private channel I called out to Gorran. "Have you located him yet?"

The wookiee growled over the comm and coordinates flashed over the HUD. Alright not far. Stealth mode it is. The active camouflage shimmered as I moved quickly ducking out of an open window and taking to using the Jump Pack to give me a good burst of speed up to the roof tops. Off in the distance I could see the Rakamat he was fighting... Why would an individual fight a Rakamat? I thought. Got to move and get to him.

I skidded to a stop to process the scene real fast. Blaster pistols against a monster the size of an Imperial Walker wasn't going to end well for him. I dropped off the roof towards the ground letting the jump pack's repulsor slow my descent enough to land safely. Once on the ground I gripped the mace on my back and brandished it ready to end this little bit as quickly as I could. "Oi, lets move bud. Out as fast as you can." I called to the Mandalorian fighting the beast.

 

[Khallesh]

They descended on the HQ, cutting down the first defenders with practised ease. Thulrok stepped into the third vehicle, executing the occupants without remorse. Khallesh sprinted towards two armoured vehicles that were thrumming as their pilots hastily activated their repulsors. A singularity mine went under the first before it could lift off. Its undercarriage was sucked into the vortex in a flash. The screams suggested its occupants followed shortly after.

The second had started to move, but Khallesh lithely leapt to its hull before it could bring its heavy laser cannons about. Blaster bolts cut through the air now, several catching her armour harmlessly. A string of fire jelly cut through the hatch’s mounts in a white hot blaze. Displaying immense strength for her size, Khallesh ripped the hatch free and descended into the belly of the beast. Her arachnostaff whipped back and forth despatching all three crewmembers in seconds. Their bright red blood started to pool in the vehicle.

By now the raiding party had overstayed its welcome. It was never a typical Yuuzhan Vong manoeuvre, but they had to retreat and draw the enemy further up the ravine, where the Chazrach were waiting.

 

[Six-O]

Objective: A - Exterminate Local Populace
Location: Nondescript Village
Enemy: Wretched Vulpine-things
Posts: 12/20

His ears rang with abhorred sirens, his head full of disorienting fog. Foot, leg, arm and hand -- all alike -- swam in the filth of the Droid's creation. A knee deep bouillabaisse of blood, skinless meat and jutting bones all seasoned with dust and debris from the rugged release of explosive energy just moments before.

Ziggs tried to climb out of the thick soup, feet tripping on inanimate limb, hands sliding horrific smears over slick porcelain. Finally through his confusion he managed to edge over the side, he landed with damp plop on cracked and chipped tile floor.

"Oomph" He gutted out.

On hands and knees, Ziggs rose, stomach rapidly tightening, then releasing. He thought his ribs would break the convulsions were so violent. Then from his mouth a wretched spew showered out bile and previous meal. Stories of the cruelty Assassin and War Droid's were capable of reaping were in fact not false fare. After today he'd never even consider standing in on a convention for Droid Rights, or listen to lecture about the inhumanity of Restrainer Bolts and Memory Wipes.

Blurred vision began to subside, the ringing slowly grew lower, and Ziggs Sprocket carefully rose to his feet -- blood soaked, and filthy.

A thump, another.

'Aaarp!!

Before he'd even managed to turn around fully a heavy foot of steel and mechanization struck him on the flank. His body bounced wickedly off the wall, and with loud clunk he met the floor again. Stunned from the impact, he heaved painful whimpers. Dazed blue eyes could barely make out the smoke wafting frame of the large machine.

Clawed fingers took him by scruff, he felt his limp body rise upwards. Then again he met the floor, as the Droid, acting out as if it were a child throwing a tantrum spiked the poor Amaran with bone-breaking force back down on to the tiles.

"Mfmffm mmf mfmm" Ziggs sniveled in agony, body broken and contorted in odd angles from just two blows.

Six-O's foot came to stand on top of his body, pressing down slow. Ziggs yowled so horrifyingly it would haunt this World for aeons. Again, with foot still on the body, the Droid crouched towards the beaten mutt. Hand on neck once more servos began to purr as the machine straightened upwards.

A pop, and tear.

The neck gave way first, muscles, tendon and flesh stretching until a great ragged seam opened and the head of Ziggs Sprocket vacated his little fox body, blinking and stupefied he took to flight one last time as the Droid continued to enact his revenge, continued to ravage this corpse even long after it had stopped twitching.

Farewell, Ziggs Sprocket, farewell.

 

[Sage Bane]

Objective: A, kill fox people
Location: Amaran beast farm
Allies: [member="Darth Rapax"]
Enemies: [member="Lucas Gravois"]
2/20

In order to most efficiently show Darth Rapax the Sutta Chwituskak, he pressed himself into the Knight's mind. It was much quicker to teach the words and hand gestures if they could simply be taught thought-to-thought, rather than shown. He began to pour the knowledge into Rapax's mind with the speed of a well-practiced Sorcerer. Soon they would practice making the Bolts of Hatred, probably on some unsuspecting fox people. Speaking of hatred, Sage sensed a powerful swell of animosity nearby. It was edged with a burning urge to kill everything and let the Maker sort it out. Someone was following them, and whoever it was, wanted to play rough.

"We have company," Sage said, whirling on his heel, and moving like a blur in the direction of the hateful aura, breathing it in, letting it mingle with his own power. Moving through the trees, like a hound on the hunt, was the owner, a ruggedly handsome man in street clothes. Sage began to recite the ancient incantations of the spell, weaving his pale fingers through the air, molding it. With an animal howl, he flung the Bolt of Hatred straight at the tresspasser [member="Lucas Gravois"], aiming for the middle of his chest.

He hoped that Darth Rapax was watching. This would be his first lesson.

 

[Dex Torture]

Objective C
Allies:[member="Darth Azurea"]| [member="Mullarus"]
Enemies: Anyone who opposes
Post 3/20

Even with such a distance between them Dex's feral like hearing could still pick up on the conversation Master Azurea and mullarus were having. "Sounds familiar" whispered Dex as he recanted back on his own humble beginnings. Growing up alone in the factory district either resulted in a cold demeanor or death, Dex thought he had become the man he was today as a result of both.

"Into the cages!" ordered Dex as the amar hurried into their new homes. By making an example out of a defiant runner a few minutes prior he had installed fear in their vigorously beating hearts and by simple command they now welcomed a slaves life rather than upsetting the young acolyte.

Dex turned and walked back to the perch were his master and rival stood. "Master, all of the slaves of this area have been tagged and locked away. Shall we move to another area or are you content with today's bounty?" he asked, nodding apologetically to mullarus just in case he had interrupted their conversation. "Its always a pleasure seeing you mullarus! Glad you made it out of captivity." added dex with a smirk to mullarus, they were friends and that said a lot in the sith world.

 

[The Angry Cheese]

[member="Draco Vereen"]

(Vrag is also on top of a 200 ft tall beast, fighting the Vong thingy. That, and Tracinya is currently sitting down on a hill a bit from the actual fight.)

He snaps his head to the other Mandalorian, then looks back to the fight not too far off. It looked like the Sith's creature was winning. Probably winning, anyways... He turns back to the Mandalorian with an annoyed grunt, activating his jetpack and lifting a few meters off the ground.

"Alright, vod. Where's our base? I'll meet you there, but only if you promise to help me hunt the dar'jetii dalyc called Vrag."

 

[Darth Carnifex]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xjKyzwqIT7s​

​

The shells began to fall in a relentless hail, a literally sheet of destruction falling upon the hapless Amaran citizens and soldiers alike. The first shells bombarded the outskirts of the town, tearing up the earth with blossoming firestorms that scoured the countryside clean of all vegetation. Then they fell on the perimeter Amaran line, filling trenches with fire and uprooting emplacements like they were nothing, everything dying in a single moment of terrorizing devastation. Those that could flee took the opportunity to retreat further back into the city in a vain attempt to shore up their lines and bunker down for the advancing Sith army, but the shells continued to fall all along the city destroying everything from civilian housing to government buildings. Hundreds died within the span of several seconds, the fire from the thermobaric bombs racing through every nook and cranny, roasting alive entire families as they huddled together for safety only to share a similar gruesome death.

Once the city had been softened up by dedicated artillery fire, the order was given for the Blackblade army to make their advance deeper into the city. The Guard split up into three mechanized infantry brigades, each of them comprised of the standard Blackblade heavy infantry and the recently deployed AT-HKs. The central line would advance down the main road directly into the city center, no doubt facing the most organized resistance along the way. The other two brigades would advance in from the left and right respectively, navigating down rural roads and suburban terrain to flank the survivors from either side. Meanwhile a Graug battalion would circle around the entire engagement to sit behind the opposing city outskirts, their objective was to shoot down to cripple any form of civilian retreat organized by the survivors.

There would be no escape for them this day.

Darth Vornskr watched his army advance into the city from the distant artillery lines, a macrobinocular firmly affixed to his face as he observed each engagement. "The advance is good, their defenses are already shattered beyond repair. What worthless cretins, I wonder why the Republic even bothered with these weaklings..."

[ 6 / 20 ]​

 

[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: 3/20

The fight was brutal, short range combat against what amounted to jumped up foxes. The Jedi killer unit was still earning its stripes in these engagements but Kylath’s rage almost abated as he cut down those who stood in the way of his superiors, almost. Military training and precision used to begin routing what amounted to a rabble, brutality and shock tactics overwhelming the group that had bravely charged.

Kylath’s use of Ataru was rudimentary and largely unhoned, he stumbled from a leaping jump twisting his ankle, and one of the blasted foxes found a chink in his armor, piercing his thigh. Sadly for it, the strikes didn’t stop, though he was forced to improvise, it was actually clever to disable the legs of an ataru user, even if this furry soon to be killed combatant couldn’t know that!

The sheer ferocity of the ataru's erratic attacks overwhelmed the Amaran quickly, emotion carrying forth through the swings and rage spilling out. Quick attacks, as was the styles mainstay, in and out, constant movement before your opponent had chance to really realise what was going on, he pushed off his good leg, swung his body around and cleaved straight through the other. Though his own blood ran down the acolyte’s leg, Kylath pushed through it, and the Jedi killers with him were soon knee deep in fur and bodies both.

He was exhausted, wild over swings had tired the novice bladesman, he may be a martial artist but he had a lot to learn about the finesse of saber combat.

 

[Kur-gal Kwaad]

Objective C: Slay
Allies: [member="Draco Vereen"]
Enemies: Amarans
[12/20]


He didn't deign the message with another response, hissing in annoyance as the oggzil retreated back into his flesh once more. Not now.

His arms were burrowed in the abdomen of one unfortunate Amaran to the elbows, and that was saying something, considering Kur-gal's size. Gore and guts dripped down his thick skin, smearing lines of red across patches of grey flesh as he slowly extracted himself from the ripped bag of meat and bones. He'd torn him apart like a child might snap a twig, except the sound was much, much wetter.

The Dragon wiped the back of his clawed hand against the dark fur of the dead Amaran and rose to his full heigh— well, he attempted to, but was then met once more with the exceptionally low ceiling the furry creatures had build their house with.

Huffing in annoyance, the man left the room with five corpses spread with a near artistic care across the floor and walls, with stains of deep red slowly dripping from above. If anyone survived the planet-wide massacre to stumble in here later, they would be met with a truly horrifying sight; torn limbs and twisted appendages littering the corridors in the Dragon's wake, complete with a pair of gaping severed heads impaled on the broken-off lampposts in front of the crumbling house.

Without ever looking back, the beast mounted his Vaghrokka once more and rode off into the fires raging across the city.

 

[Reverance]

Objective A: Swiggity swooty, I'm still coming for that booty.
Allies: One Sith, [member="Vrag"]
Enemies: Furry people, [member="Vrag"]'s Beastie
[7/20]

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

This rakamat had no cognition hood. A true beast of burden, the Sith Lord felt outmatched as he watched the speck of dirt in the sky descend from a Nuhlrokka to the Tsii Q'aah. He watched with a cocked head, his helmet following the path as he smiled behind the Vonduun Skerr Ygdris helmet. Armor named after her and here she was, mounting the beast and moving forward. The thrill of the combat perspired across his forehead, even the armor seemed to ache for the kiss that this thing might offer. But the Rakamat, it grew angry. Angry for the rebelliousness of this youthful beast. Thousands of years, it would reign as the warkeeper of the Yuuzhan Vong. Dubbed the moving mountain, it even felt the sting of pride trickle down. A lion upon the hill, he looked up to see his successor. And he was none too pleased.

Leaning over, Reverance smiled as smacked a plate of armor as he felt the monster go into full charge. "Prove 'em wrong." He said as he swung his hand forward, powered by the lambent crystal and his unending quest for knowledge of the Yun'O. The Firebreathers ahead of them turned, monster eyes and proboscis aiming towards the Tsii Q'aah as long stilt legs propelled them forward. The thud of the Rakamat was dull as it's six legs galloped, tasting the wind as it fired the magma into the air. Three shots in quick succession, sending a blast of wind that and sound that followed, as mortar shells would collide against the incredible armor of the Tsii Q'aah. Firebreathers reeled back, living napalm sent skyward to fall upon the Tsii Q'aah like rain descending from the open mouth of hell. The day would soon turn to night and for all he cared, he just wanted to see the pretty lights as his Voxyn hand dug into the armored plating, gripping for his life against the tremendous buck.

Soon enough, this would turn into the close quarter combat it was always destined to be. And Reverance smirked at the thought, wondering what Rakamat skewered meat might taste like. Ambition, pride, and a heaping serving of righteousness.

 

[Krux Mullarus]

Objective C
Allies: Darth Azureahttp://starwarsrp.net/user/8454-darth-azurea/http://starwarsrp.net/user/8454-darth-azurea/ / Dex Torture
Enemies: All furries
6/20

Mullarus grinned upon seeing [member="Dex Torture"] approach and give his condolences about being take captive by the Republic. What made the young Sith happiest was how neither Dex nor [member="Darth Azurea"] looked down upon him for being taken prisoner during the Defense of Balmorra. He could name many Sith, most likely his master, [member="Darth Pyrrhus"] included, would look at Mullarus with a face full of disappointment and anger. They would likely spit upon Mullarus and call him weak for failing to defeat a Padawan, even one who practiced a lightsaber technique that not even experienced Jedi Knights could master. Mullarus was thankful that Azurea and Torture were kind enough to take his side.

Then it hit Mullarus. How did Dex know I was-

He had almost forgotten that Torture was an alien, likely with some good hearing. He did, however, wonder what else his race could do that a human like him couldn't. Would Mullarus even consider himself human, or was he more of a cyborg? It was true that he would not be alive today if not for the cybernetic implants beneath his skin. On top of that were his two main fingers on his right hand were now robotic, thanks to that Padawan...

Mullarus didn't normally consider himself a holder of grudges, but the motivation to grow in strength and power was strong when the motivation itself was to rise above the level that that girl had beat him on. To learn to fight the Vaapad and crush her drove Mullarus. Hopefully, it would even be enough for him to grow strong enough to stand against Jedi Knights.

"Thanks, Dex. It's nice to see you, too." he said with a smile.