Blood and Sand (OS dominion of N'zoth)

[Fabula Caromed]

Objective: Educating the masses on why hitting back isn't always fun
Location: Giat Nor
Enemies: [member="Vrag"]'s armor spikes

Well, she had made contact. Fabula hadn't fought anything Vong since...actually, did the Forest Ghost even count? He was dead like one of them, but he hadn't worn any of this cheaty gear. And she was young. Or...old. No, she wasn't born yet. Ugh. So many memories. Three separate lives to sort through, so many overlapping moments. Her brain was a muddled up mess.

Fortunately, pain helped her return to the world. Her Lotek'k coat was incredible defense against most attacks, but only middling against crushing blows. It at least kept her bones from breaking, but it still wasn't fun to have bruised ribs. Also, this was the first time in her life that she'd been shot by weaponized insects. Landmark!

In pain and frustration, a growl started to build in the back of the ancient Nightsister's throat. This one was slippery, but more importantly, she had been approaching combat like she still had her old tricks. Or full armor. She had brought neither, and her body was suffering for it. Just as her hand had begun to seal up, now she had to direct her energy inward to prevent pain with every single movement. Lovely, biting, intoxicating pain. A pity that, unlike the ghost, this one didn't seem interested in throwing grenades at her thoat.

Mistake. Advantage

The Sith had decided to elbow Fabula's face. She saw it coming maybe a half-second early, but rather than attempting to dodge, Fabula brought up her healing left arm and found he first handhold that thankfully didn't have fangs this time. It might have been sharp, but at least an elbow wasn't attemting to bite her arm off. And, since armor only provided exterior protection...

Fabula wrenched the captive limb with every bit of force her fury could muster, attempting more to break a limb than to redirect her opponent. She had no real direction in mind, focusing instead on yanking and twisting in directions that most bipeds' limbs weren't designed to go. The latter would have been hard to do anyway, because apparently that elbow strike had caught her forehead. There was blood trailing down her face, against her nose...more pain. Excellent.

 

[Darth Ophidia]

[11/20]
Objective: 3. Recruit a lair of bandits.
Location: N’zoth.
Allies: OS.

Saiah and her opponent circled each other, their eyes fixed. Then they charged again. The pale Yevetha launched a sequence of slashes with its remaining arm, supplemented with evasive manoeuvres to avoid her lightsabre, and swift kicks to keep Saiah at bay. Her wounds slowed her down as she was losing blood, unlike her opponent whose cut was instantly cauterised by her blade. She was forced to block or evade the attacks, put entirely on the defensive until she saw her chance.

She jumped over a low kick and as he came with a follow-up punch, she bought her blade down and split his lower arm down the middle. The pain made her opponent alter the course of hits arm, and drawing on the moment of surprise, she moved the tip of her lightsabre in a circle and cut the split arm off under the elbow. The leader, now armless, backed away and came rushing at her once more with its head in a ramming position. It would have been easy for her to finish the job, but she had something far crueller in mind. Whirling out of the way of the leader’s charge, she clipped its heel with the tip of her blade. It toppled over on the sand and screamed curses at her.

She circled her opponent and as she passed its healthy leg, she swiped her sabre across its lower thigh, severing the tendons and making sure that it had no fully functioning limbs except its neck. She knew just what she would do with their leader to ensure the Yevetha knew what they were dealing with. First, she would need a wire.

 

[Ameli Trahir]

[Post count: 3+1 = 4/20]​

Objective: Trying to avoid all of them!
Location: Some Sith star destroyer

"Ohh, I won!" Again. Ameli almost squealed with joy. Her beginner's luck was starting to wear thin, as the young, blonde Acolyte won another round of sabacc. The girl was relatively new to the game, but she was doing well for herself now. Those first few introduction rounds had gone rather disastrous, but she was picking it up quickly.

She was seated at a table of five. The other four were crew members on a Sith star destroyer. Three of them male, one female, all Human. Ameli was skipping out on her duties. She was supposed to be down on the planet's surface, waging war and bringing the Yevetha of N'zoth under heel. It was really not her kind of thing.

Instead she had snuck away from the rest as landing forces were prepared. Instead she had found her way to the quarters of some of the crew members. She didn't want to be alone, she had already spent so much of her life in near solitude. This was much more fun.

Among the people at the table, there really wasn't too much credits to go around. Instead, they had changed the stakes. Strip sabacc. One of the guys had suggested it, of course, thinking they'd fare well against the attractive newcomer. To their dismay, all that she had discarded so far was her long, black, hooded robe. That thing was hideous anyway. Beneath those robes she wore the traditional garments of the Sith. Yuck.

After that round, one of the guys lost his shirt. The two others were getting dangerously close to full defeat. Safe to say, this game had not played out exactly the way they had hoped. Regardless, the tone around the table was light hearted and fun. At least for Ameli. She didn't really care about the others, beyond the fact that they currently provided her with means of entertainment. At least she didn't have to exhaust herself invading pointless planets and systems.

"Acolyte Trahir!" Feth, had she just jinxed herself? "For kark's sake..." Ameli almost slammed the cards against the table. The others around the table sprang up and saluted the officer, which was more unfortunate for some, given their current outfit. Only Ameli remained seated, rubbing her temples with her fingers, trying to fight away a growing headache. Out of nowhere, one of the officers still on the ship had located her. So they knew she was still her. It would seem fun time was over.

 

[Worm 20]

Objective: One
Location: A Yevetha breedery.
Allies: One Sith
[3/20]

Like a sickly concoction, the mixture of hate and disgust inside Worm boiled up. It had been fuelling the feeling for a while now, lying in wait for the guards that would inevitably come looking. Sometimes, when it threatened to boil over, Worm took off the heat, and reminded itself of the discipline it had honed. Patience. They would come soon enough, and the result would be sweeter the longer the gratification was delayed.

As if on cue, Worm felt presences arrive at the main door. Five, no, six of them. Adjusting its grip on the vibroblade, Worm waited as the sentiences stopped to talk to the guards at the gate, then continued down the corridor. Extending its reach towards their minds, Worm smoothed over its own presence, seemingly being a perfectly acceptable fixture of the room. As the door opened, Worm held its breath for a fraction of a second, hoping it would be noticed. Hoping? Yes. No reason to make things harder, but they would be more fun in a way.

The six Yevetha walked past. Releasing its breath, Worm followed them as they accelerated their step on seeing the pool of blood. They were talking agitatedly in their own weird language Worm didn't understand - it was clear they were worried, though, and all of them started looking around, pointing blaster rifles somewhere. Worm already stood in between them, vibroblade in hand, moving up to the nearest one.

Slowly, the weapon sunk into the back of the humanoid - Worm savoured the kill, revelling in the feeling of training coming to fruition. It was efficient, and yet full of the emotions that were the source of its power. Channelled emotions. Unlike its first kills, these were pure, powerful.

The Yevetha caught on to the fact that something was wrong after the third one of them was lying on the floor, dead. They shot at something that seemed important for a moment, and then they could no longer find a target.

Worm had ducked below the shots thanks to the early warning that something would go wrong it had glimpsed from the Force, and the minds of its victims. No reason to change tactics yet, agitated minds were harder to direct.

 

[Darth Ophidia]

[12/20]
Objective: 3. Recruit a lair of bandits.
Location: N’zoth.
Allies: OS.

The Yevetha parted before her as she walked back to her speeder, oozing with anger from every pore of her body. She climbed onto the speeder bike and started it up, driving it through the gates and into the middle square. She cut down a tent and took the rope that had kept it up. She tied one end of the rope to a bar under her speeder bike and the other to the Yevetha bandit leader’s legs. Saiah made sure the knot would not slip and walked over to her grumbling opponent, who squirmed in the sand. She spat on its chest and turned to her speeder. Saiah climbed on and revved the engine a few times before driving slowly out of the settlement, dragging their live and squirming master behind her in the dust.

Once outside the encampment, she speeded up and dragged the chief across the rocky sand. She drove in a circle around the encampment. Saiah made sure her victim suffered through the worst terrain and she knew that the entire camp watched. They would know the price of defiance against the Sith. Rocks, sand, dry shrubberies and once she was certain she surprised a serpent as it came out of hiding. Once the body had been dragged around the encampment ten times, she drove back in and cut the rope. Saiah stood in the seat of her speeder bike and looked at the congregation.

“I have killed your chief, and I claim the rule of you! You now belong to me, and to the One Sith. Any who object will be treated as an enemy of the Order.”

She gestured to the mangled corpse of their former leader. Worn down by stone and sand, hardly a flake of skin left on it. Saiah climbed down and headed inside the chief’s tent for one last gesture of dominance. She walked through the darkened room, climbed the skull-step and sat in the wooden chair. She touched the comlink in her ear and spoke quietly into the mic. Reporting to the larger ship from which she had deployed to conserve fuel.

“Saiah reporting in. The encampment is secured. I took care of the leader. I am going to need some mild medical treatment and a long shower.”

 

[Darth Kentarch]

Post number: 2/20
Objective: Assassinate Darama
Location: The Slums of Giat Nor
Allies: Sith Assassins/One Sith


The Phasma-Class Infiltrator Black Mercury landed on the roof of large apartment building. The back off-ramp of the ship opened and the cloaked figure that was Darth Kentarch tumbled out onto the roof. "Keep stealth systems engaged. Close communications with all possible outside contacts." The Sith Lord ordered. While several Sith would be operating in the area, he wanted his own operation to go on uninterrupted by anyone other than his team. If communications were discovered, the mission could be comprised. Using the force, he glided down the side of the building, and landing softly in a darkened alleyway.

With the force as his ally, Kentarch sprinted off as fast as he could. Swiftly he weaved in and out between alleyways, and avoided the local denizens. He did not have time to take in the local scenery, instead he kept a strong pace moving towards the central part of the capital city. "You'll want to make a right here my lord." The agent said over their secured commlink. They had been tracking his route through the city back at the ship. "Troops are patrolling the streets ahead." As the agent spoke Kentarch veered down an alley to the right, his speed unwavering.

"You'll be approaching the city center soon. Intelligence suggests that the city center has been fortified in preparation to resist the Sith Occupation. I recommend getting a vantage point before making your final approach." As the agent spoke, the Sith Lord stopped. Glancing up, he quickly climbed up a pipe of nearby building that went all the way up to the roof. He glanced out of the main plaza of Giat Nor. "I asume the structure with the large domes is where the Darama is located?" Kentarch asked. "Yes my lord." With a nod of his head, Kentarch observed the troop movements and patrol patterns. While he was Sith, killing anyone other than the Darama could raise an unwanted alarm. Reaching out with the force, Kentarch searched for an opening.

 

[Ameli Trahir]

[Post count: 3+2 = 5/20]​

Objective: Operation Do Nothing failed. Now on her way to do stuff...
Location: N'zoth
NPC: 10

There had been no arguing with the officer. Ameli knew she couldn't fool her at this point, so the argument had been a short one. Her only hope, faint as it may have been, had been that it was already too late. Of course, this was not the case. It was never too late for conquest. As it turned out, the Sisterhood troops she was supposed to command were still waiting for her by the landing zone. Her attempt to mislead them by saying they had been reassigned had clearly failed. Perhaps that was how they had learned she was still on the ship?

A dropship had been sent, just for her, as if to make a point that she was not gonna get out of this one. No excuse could save her. In brooding silence, the sulking Sith Acolyte sat in the ship, waiting for it to inevitably land on the planet, where she, Force forbid, would have to actually do stuff.

For lack of better things to do, Ameli pulled out the lightsaber she had been given. It was for this mission, and she wasn't sure if she had to return it or not after. She hadn't made her own, nor did she feel any urge to do so either. The weapon felt awkward in her grip. As she tried to twirl it around, she even dropped it a few times. She hardly knew what to do with it. Or rather, that wasn't true. She knew, and she had received training at the Sith Academy on Coruscant. It was more of a won't than a can't. It felt too much like physical labour. Not her style.

Ameli's sulking was interrupted as the ship finally touched down. There she was met with 10 soldiers, ready to serve. They were issued from the Covenant of the Black Rose. Whoever approved Ameli to lead troops had made a very, very silly mistake.

Neither part seemed very excited to be introduced to the other. On one hand, you had an Acolyte who at all costs seemed hellbent on avoiding to pull her weight, on the other you had the dedicated soldiers who had to put up with such a character as their commander. To them, she was nothing but a spoiled little princess. Too bad they were disciplined enough to know to follow orders.

The small group set off into the desert. Their task was to approach the smaller warrior tribes, and either persuade them to join the Sith cause, or destroy them. In the event that they needed to destroy them, they would most likely need to call for back-up. They had access to aerial support, should the need to drop a few bombs arise. In a sense, their role was to be scouts, and map out who the One Sith could use, and who they would have to destroy.

 

[Sage Bane]

Objective: 4, Duel with [member="Tanek Santii"] for the appeasement of Yevetha elders
Location: Valley of Rejection
5/20

A devious grin split Sage’s face as he rained mental anguish down on his Togruta friend. Tanek's screams were like a beautiful symphony that fed Sage's mad bloodlust and craving for domination. The Knight's lightsaber pommel clattered to the ground and rolled in the amber dust as Tanek took a knee.

"That's right, kneel, whelp," Sage laughed and lifted his arm higher, encouraging the crowd to take to their feet. The Yevetha elders rose from their seats, hooting and heckling Santii in their native language. The Sith Lord felt the Dark Side welling up around his rival, about to crest like a wave. In the next moment, it did.

A huge wave of the Force came rumbling across the dust, bursting towards Sage. It was powerful, but unfocused, and messy. Still, it was enough to cause the Sith Lord to cease his mind attack, and pour his energy into Force speed instead, which would quickly strafe him to the side in a blur. The intense pain cutting through Knight Santii's mind would suddenly stop, releasing him from Sage's torment.

With a quick twist of his hand, the Sith Lord pulled Tanek's lightsaber hilt up off the ground. It snapped into his hand, and he tossed it into the crowd, where it was fought over by the frenzied Yevetha. Sage stalked to the side like a panther. He was simply toying with Tanek, and showing off for the crowd. Now that he was a Lord, Sage's powers were growing in leaps and bounds, and he had a few new tricks up his sleeve. He would show Tanek those new tricks soon, but for now he reached out with the Force to add insult to injury. Tanek would feel an invisible hand attempt to close around his neck, and lift him up off the ground. Ah, the classic Force Choke power, the hallmark of the disdainful Sith Lord. Well, if the Yevetha wanted a show, he might as well play the greatest hits.

"Now rise."

 

[Worm 20]

Objective: One
Location: A Yevetha breedery.
Allies: One Sith
[4/20]

Spoiler

69 teehee

The guards at the door finally clued in to the sounds of fighting coming from inside, and started running down the corridor. That would make it five against one in a few seconds, pretty good odds, considering the guards' reluctance to actually place effective shots on their enemy. The reluctance was forced, Worm had to admit that, but that didn't change the facts. Channeling the rage, Worm decided to make a more fun game out of the whole affair. It went to its limits. Moving quickly while concentrating on the Force Cloak was difficult, but not impossible for it.

Three more seconds, and two more Yevetha still alive in the room, Worm marched on, trying to kill these last two before the guards in front arrived, to fully savour the horror in their hearts. Releasing the cloak slightly, Worm fell deeper into the Force, letting it lead its movements towards the inevitable thrust that would sever the Yevetha's brain from the rest of the body. A weird physiology, having the brain inside the chest - much easier to target than the comparatively small head.

Clothing slightly singed from the blaster bolts it had just barely avoided, Worm moved on to the second guard, channeling its rage to destroy its mind while it moved in for the kill. It had always been happy with its vibroblade, much quieter and less attention-seeking than the lightsabers favoured by others. It had been, until now. As the blade penetrated the Yevetha's chest, again, something snapped, and the vibration stopped. It had broken.

The guards entered the room as the last of the six sank to the floor.

 

[Vrag]

[9/20]
Objective: Not cry and also vengeance
Location: Giat Nor
Enemies: [member="Fabula Caromed"] and her sexxy bod​

​

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gorMzHRU9yg​

​

​

Well, that was unfortunate.

If her opponent had expected a scream, however, the brunette would find herself sorely disappointed. Even as her ligaments screamed and begged for mercy, the firrerreo ground her teeth to stave off a pained cry that threatened to rip forth from her lungs, her step faltering as she was forced to follow the direction in which her enemy was twisting the limb in her grasp.

The Vonduun did its best to resist the abnormal movements, but her foe was calling upon the Force, and her strength, as Vrag had found, was great. Too great, even, for the combined endurance of her battle-honed muscle and the Skerr Ygdris clinging to her body.

And then her shoulder joint gave out with a sharp crackle, a sound so well-known and, usually, so dear to her ears. The head of the humerus popped from the glenoidal fossa, ligaments tearing as it left its natural resting place (like the arm of a toy, dangling limply, lifeless), rendering her right arm completely useless.

But not her left.

The Sith, having passed her foe even whilst the Force-powered monster had been busy mangling her arm, had relinquished her grip on the chitin carbine in that defining moment of agony, but her hand was now free, and that was all she needed. With a powerful twist of her hips and a rictus cut into the features of her face, the woman would ram her left hand into the exposed back of her enemy, her Vonduun-clad fist primed to kiss the lumbal spine of her foe with a force that had no trouble punching through duracrete as if it were paper. Fast-healing or not, the strike would be one to turn bone into dust if it connected, and at this range, her opponent didn't really have time to move away, let alone the maneuver room to do so; with the way their limbs were entangled, the brunette's odds were a few light years short of infinite.

 

[Yurzhoc Shai]

Post number [5/20]
Objective: 4, doing my own thing
Location: Valley of Rejection
Allies: One Sith
(Enemies): The Yevetha kanabar

Stebbles slithered away from Yurzhoc, all tuckered out, as it drove between the bodies of dead Yevethans. Wiping sweat from his brow, Yurzhoc moved back into the saloon, filled with the dead or nearly so. Pulling out a chair, he kicked one in the head as he sat down, stirring him from the slumber that proceeded the fall. "Tell me, puny monster...why blood?"

"Why should...I tell...you?" Yurzhoc laughed as the Yevethan struggled to speak. Squinting his eyes, he stared out into the empty road, now filled with corpses.

"You all fought well...for not being Yuuzhan Vong. I wish to know the culture I killed. I know you don't fear pain or death, I respect that."
"Blood...bleeding...it nourishes us. Our religion..." Time was suddenly this ones greatest enemy.
"In my culture, we glorify pain and sacrifice of flesh. It seems we aren't very different. Tell me, why have you been abandoned?"
"We...we are the rejected..."
"The shamed ones?"
"Yes...we carry that burden."

Yurzhoc growled and stood up, kicking out his chair, before walking away. "What...why do you run away?"

The Yuuzhan Vong yelled and ran up to this victim, lifting him from the ground. "I am not shamed, I am not the Extolled!" He beat his chest armor with the free hand. "I am Yurzhoc Shai! Of the Shai Domain! Warrior of the Legion Yun'Do Warrior Caste! I will kill those who shamed me."

"But...but...that is the way of my people."
"Then your people will die..." The words slipped through a toothy grin as he tossed the victim away. He would find a vehicle, perhaps that broken one, and take it back to the city. And kill all those who would claim him as shamed.

 

[Fabula Caromed]

Objective: Holy shit that hurts
Location: The ground, and also Giat Nor
Enemies: The lovely, surprisingly strong [member="Vrag"]

Oh. Balls.

Sensing attacks at this range was much easier for Fabula. Her sensory hadn't been terribly reliable since she had started bathing in rage. A bit like being nearsighted in the Force, it only seemed to work properly within a few meters of her body. She could absolutely sense what was about to happen to her, but...they were grappling. Dodging was pretty much out of the question, and with no Iron Skin, that was going to hurt. All she could do was lessen the blow, and unfortunately, from that angle, anything the Sith hit would be vitally important.

Fortunately, Fabs didn't have to make a choice. Her instincts did it for her. Wrenching her back a bit in a last-second (and failed) attempt to dodge, she managed to move her spine out of the way of a blow that would likely leave her paralyzed. Instead, she took the hit in something much more painful, but much less immediately debilitating. Well...save the overbearing agony which surpassed even a centuries-tempered masochist's ability to revel.

She could feel the damage to her kidney (right side, from this angle) even through all of the slightly-pulverized flesh and gore. Internal bleeding, probably, and her world exploded into fire and agony. It was only through knowing the source of that attack and venting her frustration in its direction that she could keep her knees from collapsing...for a few seconds.

Her body had already been twisting. It was now twisting in pain. Fabula used that to her advantage, and rode her reflexive thrash out with her right arm. Much like her enemy's last attack,it would be hard to miss at this range and velocity. An uppercut to the jaw (or the chin of the helmet, whatever) would hopefully create the space Fabs needed to stagger back and focus.

No more speed. No more strength. She needed to mend before she suffered some serious internal damage. Her feet carried her back a few steps before her previously-hamstrung left leg gave out on her, forcing her to drop to a kneel. Whatever. It would give her an easier stance to concentrate from. Channel your Rage. Channel your hatred. The blood on her face dripped to the ground with every moment that she ignored her head wound to deal with something much more immediately vital.

"...Good hit," she managed to spit out between clenched teeth. It was hard to take a tiny voice like hers seriously even when she was growling in unholy bloodthirst.

 

[Micah Talith]

[4/20]
Objective: Hunt
Allies: [member="Cadeyrn Centurion"]

The lair wasn't hard to find. No, the difficult and obnoxious part was that he had to work with a small space. The entrance to the lair could very well be missed by anyone. It was small, barely large enough for a normal sized Terentaktek to move past, but that wasn't the issue. The issue was that he wasn't going to be able to trap anything inside.

Nope, he'll have to do it on the outside. In the blaring sun. Which mean that his cousin was not going to be happy about this. It also meant that he was going to have to go inside to try and bait one of the beasts out. He would first need to find bait, a fresh kill to perhaps entice his target from the lair. Once one came out, he would have a better understanding using the Force Bond Talisman if there were other of its kin nearby.

On the plus side, if it was out in the open, it would be easier with more space to fight against it. Taking his saber hilt from his waist, he would pan his gaze, settling upon distant K'lor slug.

Welp, he rotated his wrist, time to rustle up some grub.

 

[Worm 20]

Objective: One
Location: A Yevetha breedery.
Allies: One Sith
[5/20]

The Yevetha stared at their colleagues, lying on the floor and bleeding from a single wound each. A hilt was still visible, protruding from the chest of the last of the six lying on the ground. Some distance further, the breeding assistant lay dead on the floor, deceased for a while now, since the blood had stopped pooling under him. The guards were afraid. Not of death, not consciously at least, since they had long resigned themselves to death coming for them at any moment. They were afraid on a more primal level. This had happened while they were standing on guard. While they had watch. Something had fully fooled their senses and done this while they had responsibility for order in this place. They were not afraid "because". They were simply afraid.

Worm felt the fear. And it used it. Like a parasite, it burrowed into the minds of the two Yevetha warriors in front of it, and directed them. They would be too afraid to look at it, to notice it even when they did. And not seeing Worm would heighten their fear even more. It would be a delicious spiral of horror.

By giving in to the feeling, they had proven themselves unworthy. They had proven themselves lesser beings - and lesser beings had to be purged, so they wouldn't stain its presence any longer. It had not taken a backup weapon with it, and yet - it could still fight. It could channel the disgust into its hands, and slowly wring the life out of one of the guards, while the other backed away, too afraid to remember his weapon. Too weak to overcome his fear.

Choking the Yevetha felt good. As its hands wrung the spindly body, so similar in thickness to its own, Worm enjoyed witnessing the slow death, the exit of consciousness from the creature. It had to reach up far to even reach its neck, but that did not change the feeling of superiority in the least.

As the lifeless body was released to the floor, there was only one thought. Never would Worm be this weak again. Taking the blaster from the guard, it pointed it at the other, releasing its cloak mere moments before shooting. It had to see, to acknowledge its superiority. In that one clear moment before death.

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

[Post count: 4+2 = 6/20]​

Objective: 4, Duel with [member=Sage Bane] for the appeasement of Yevetha elders
Location: Valley of Rejection

The blast missed its mark, but Tanek could barely tell. All he knew was that his head was no longer threatening to explode. The Togruta collapsed onto the ground, down on all four now as he breathed heavily. The pain was fading. For now, he was only riding the after shocks. The pressure had stopped growing, and once more he could see and think clearly. Well, almost.

His lightsaber... Gone. Feth. That would become a problem. This time, he didn't take the insults too well. Had it only been Sage, that would've been one thing, but the crowd was joining in. His impending defeat was quickly turning into humiliation, and the Knight was not too pleased. Fury raged within him, hatred even, as the Dark Side claimed the Togruta as its pet. He became a sea of dark emotions that he let run rampant within, build up to the point of boiling, where he could barely contain it. The feelings were almost manifesting into physical pain.

Speaking of physical pain, he felt the Force tighten its grip around his neck as Tanek was lifted up from the ground. He had been foolish to have taken this so casually. A fool, to have thought it was but a show for the masses. His very honour was at stake. His very claim to be a Sith, worthy of the rank Knight. Once more, Tanek was the humble hunter on Shili, pushed around by the more powerful beings in the galaxy, the Sith Lords. Against them, he was but an insect. He had accepted this when he began training under Darth Vornskr, but in his past successes, he had allowed himself to forget. He had become prideful, arrogant, blinded by his own growth. He was still that insect that had been overpowered by simple thugs on Shili who sought to capture him, he was still that insect that had so easily been subdued on Coruscant when he first met the Sith. Indeed, how foolish he had been. He was still a brick to be moved around the board as others saw fit. He was not yet a player.

All these thoughts were swirling through the young Sith Knight's mind, as he was lifted from the ground, slowly being choked. Was he a Knight? In a moment like this, he still felt like the Acolyte. His hatred and fury knew no bounds. The pit seemed bottomless. Tanek came from humble beginnings. When he first joined the ranks of the Sith, he had lost himself to the Dark Side. Slowly, it had refined him. In a sense, the Dark Side had cultivated him, allowing him to grow into something more. Where he had once been silent and almost brutish, he was turning into the eloquent manipulator, able to sway others to his cause, or destroy them, with little more than a few well-chosen words. Now he regressed, experiencing a little relapse. The Dark Side came over him, but this time he couldn't control it. This time, he gave himself to it, and was utterly consumed by it. He became little more than a wild beast, wanting nothing more than to tear at his enemies. In Tanek's mind, right now, he had many.

This was the first time he had truly tasted defeat since joining the Sith. He was not dealing with the situation well. He was suddenly much less concerned with impressing the crowd. He would slaughter them, punish them all for laughing at him. They would know his power as they saw their friends and beloved be carved in half by his sword, consumed by his insatiable rage. All of N'zoth would die. Sage too, if he stood in his way.

All his anger, all his fury was once more unleashed. Tanek lashed out with the Force against his enemy. If only he knew the dark arts of Sith sorcery, his retaliation could've been truly remarkable. He did not really possess any knowledge of how to shield himself with the Force, unaware how to brush off such attacks. Instead, his defence was offense, and it was once more manifested with a wave of the Force. This time, a Force Push, much more concentrated, and more powerful than his last attempt. His hatred amplified, and his mind no longer under siege from the mind attack Sage had set upon him. He was focused.

As if his amphistaff had taken part in Tanek's suffering, it was practically screaming for blood. Tanek would grant its wish. With a simple hand gesture, the amphistaff crawled forwards, finding itself in Tanek's grip and stiffening. Tanek didn't have much left in him before it'd be lights out. His eyes were growing heavy, and light was fading from view. But he was far from ready to admit defeat. Not now. Not like this. Like a spear, it was tossed at the Sith Lord, from the Togruta dangling in the air, slowly choking. Whether Sage braced for impact, or dodge with Force Speed, he'd try to aim the amphistaff in the direction he seemed to be moving in.

 

[Vrag]

[10/20]
Objective: Not cry and also vengeance
Location: Giat Nor
Allies: [member="Fabula Caromed"] and her sexxy bod​

​

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x401frOxlAM​

​

​

The pulsating pain in her right shoulder faded for a moment as she felt the give of flesh underneath the press of her fist, and then that singular moment when flesh had nothing more to give, so it gave up instead, vessels and organs bursting beneath her gentle touch.

God, was it satisfying, was it pleasing, caressing the vile beast that lay dormant behind her sternum, still slumbering despite the sharp intake of breath hissing through her metal rebreather.

Then it quickly stopped being pleasing, because her chin was introduced to the other's fist quite roughly and without any sort of propriety, and that was quite the opposite of pleasing. Gnashing her teeth and tasting iron again, the firrerreo would stumble backward, her mind brimming with colorful profanities that she would never utter out loud.

Too proud.

Her head had suffered another blow — really, when would it be enough? — and the world didn't exactly look straight to the woman at that particular moment. Not that it ever did, not really, but this was something far less pleasant. And it could've been, too! Her opponent wasn't bad-looking in the least, and that rack was nothing to scoff about either; the generous spattering of blood slicking the pale skin did nothing to deter Vrag — if anything, it only made things hotter — it was that same annoying bite of pain in her rotator cuff, reinforced by each slow squeezed of her heart.

Motherkarker, the Hand of the Dark Lord thought, and then she finally found her balance again, icy eyes zeroing in on her kneeling opponent just as the brunette's plump lips parted to utter something — was that a compliment? Oh, for feth's sake. The Sith had found herself once more in a situation where her sword-arm was… well, incapacitated was the right word, but Vrag didn't feel like admitting it just yet; instead, the woman flung her not useless arm forward in a wild swing, sending her lightsaber spinning at her recovering opponent, hoping to disturb whatever Forcey magicks the brunette was trying to pull on her.

Not today.

 

[Yurzhoc Shai]

Post number [6/20]
Objective: 4, doing my own thing
Location: Valley of Rejection
Allies: One Sith
(Enemies): The Yevetha kanabar

Strong arms reached beneath the damaged transport. Debris had been moved aside, creating an obvious rut in which the ship careened. As the vehicle rolled over, the magical lifting wells igniting in a blue flame that shocked the warrior as much as it disturbed and disgusted him. Standing back, he realized that the driver was still alive, but on his way. He walked forward and knelt, the man suffering to his last moments.

"Tell me...hurting puny man...how did I get to your closest temple?" The eyes darted for a moment, in a general direction, as the Yevethan looked back and gurgled a noise. "That way, you say? Now, how do I power this blasphemous thing?"

Yurzhoc tilted his head in as the beast gurgled once more, gasped just an ounce, struggled, and got all sleepy. Permanently. Yurzhoc took the man behind the head and slammed him against the dash several times before backing away, inspecting the vehicle. He looked towards the amphistaff and shrugged. "Worth a try..."

Opening the door, he yanked the Yevethan out and launched him into a house. Stepping into the seat, he tinkered with the buttons and adjusted the rear view mirror. "Fellas...strap in or whatever it is you all say." The dead corpses didn't respond as Stebbles leaped from the shoulder and struck the ignition switch. Screaming, Yurzhoc absentmindedly pressed down on the accelerator and drove into another ghetto shanty town. Pushing the debris away, he threw up his hands. "Yes STEBBLES, I KNOW. IT STEERS, THERE IS NO TALL-YOR! SHUT YOUR TRAP AND LET ME DRIVE!"

He paused and looked at the beast, now coiled in the place where the passenger seat was. Breathing slowly, he smiled. "That's better." He turned the wheel and took off into the desert, sporadically hitting the accelerator.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9szldJEzD5U[/youtube]​

Post Number: 2/20
Objective: Objective 4 (Because Eva smells and won't let me do Objective 2 :L)
Location: Hariz
Allies: The Dark Side
Enemies: The Yevetha

As the Voice of the Dark Lord rode through the breech made by the Glycons in the exterior wall of Hariz, the overwhelming sense of hate and death washed over him like a tidal wave. The ground was littered with corpses, both Graug and Yevetha, and among them were the twitching bodies of those mangled beyond comprehension but had not yet succumbed to death. They were quickly dispatched by Graug who had followed the Sith Lord after the initial charge into the city's interior, the bestial brutes ripping and tearing at both dead Yevetha and Graug alike, their bloodthirst gave no distinction to who they killed, only that they sated the burning urge to kill. Structures burned all around the column as they marched down the ruined and blood-stained street, adding the sickly scent of charred flesh to the already pungent odor of pestilence that had clung to everything.

"You see, Highlord? The smell of death and destruction... A sensation to be cherished. Perhaps the Graug can teach you a thing or two about murder that even you might not have known." The Highlord snorted as he laughed, himself taking position on Vornskr's right side as he was considered to be the harbinger of the Dark Master's wrath. "Their ways are primitive, milord, but yet even I cannot deny that the results of their butchery are to be praised." The smile plastered across the Highlord's face spoke more than his words ever could, and it was clear that he was drinking in the violence and decay with manic satisfaction that almost rivaled the Sith Lord's own.

Almost.

Still, by the sounds of battle that raged from all directions (Save for the path that they came from) it was clear that the Yevetha had put up a commendable fight against the seemingly endless Horde of Graug that had appeared from the blue to burn their city down to ash. Up head a regiment of Yevetha carrying pikes were able to skewer several Graug that had charged to them, only breaking off a handle of the weapons in the brutes bellies before continuing onward to attack the Sith Lord's personal host, which was significantly smaller than the group that now moved to challenge them. Osbasid raised his weapon, alongside him the Graug did the same, but Vornskr merely raised his hand and they paused and looked to their Lord who dismounted with ease and alone presented himself as challenge to the Yevetha.

Expecting an easy victory against a lone combatant the Yevetha gorged themselves on arrogance and pride, charging forth with the words: "Thetan nitakka, ko nakaza" bubbling forth past their putrid lips to stain the air with their blasphemy. Vornskr merely took the lightsaber from his side and activated the scarlet blade with his right hand, and with his left and extended it forward with meaningful force, sending an invisible telekinetic shockwave forth to crack the ground and send a dozen of the Yevetha flying only to land with a bone-shattering impact somewhere out of view. Those that managed to get close enough to even jab their pikes at the Sith Lord found the ends of their weapons hewn off by his blade of fire, followed shortly by a limb or their head. He moved with such speed through the group that he appeared as a blur of darkness and fire, cutting a soldier into a dozen or so bits before moving to eviscerate the warrior next to him.

By the end of it all what remained of the Yevetha who attacked the Sith Lord were piles of assembled body parts and the smell of burning flesh. What little blood was shed stained the Sith Lord's black banded armor, and he turned back towards the host with a dark smile. "Did my men suddenly turn to stone? Move! There will be plenty more ready for the slaughter, and I will not be pleased till the entire city is purged. Now go!"

He didn't need to tell them twice.

 

[Ameli Trahir]

[Post count: 4+3 = 7/20]​

Objective: Soak up max amount of sun
Location: N'zoth
NPC: 10

"Why are we stopping?" the Sisterhood senior officer asked. They were all on speeder bikes, and had been driving through the desert landscape for a while now. The sun was burning hot above them, and their destination was far away. They were headed for one of the area's most prominent warrior tribes. None of the planet's major players would be found here. Once many of these tribes had been united, but in recent times they had fractured. What remained was a mess of minor factions, struggling for control.

This particular tribe was the key to this area of the planet. Persuade them to join the Sith, and it was assumed that the rest in the surrounding area would follow. Should other tribes oppose them, this one could be used to squash them. Divide and conquer. Even if they resisted, if the Sith proved their strength by crushing the most feared warrior tribe this side of the planet, the others were likely to recognize it, and submit. Such was the plan, at any rate. How effective it was remained to be seen.

Right now, however, the plan appeared to be going nowhere. Ameli Trahir cared little for its importance. It was dull. Someone else could do it. Honestly, she didn't even know how to approach the issue. Ask them nicely? Beat them on the head with a stick? Better to just leave it, and have other more boring minds take care of it. She had other plans entirely.

"Don't worry about it." Ameli replied, dismounting her speeder. "Don't worry about it? What do you mean don't worry about it? Our mission is to-" "I am still your commander, am I not?" Ameli interrupted the officer. "Yes..." came the resigned reply. "Thought so. Then I command you to chill." The officer stared at the young Acolyte in disbelief, not quite sure how to reply. "Milady?" she said, confused. "Chill. I need to like... Think and stuff" Ameli took off her dark robe, and lay it down on the ground. She looked at it for a moment, before nodding to herself. Yes, that would do nicely.

"Form a perimeter. I need to devise a plan on how we approach the tribe chief." it was the only thing she'd said so far that made sense, and it was enough to have the Sisterhood officer nod reluctantly, as she passed the order along. The speeder bikes formed in a wide circle around Ameli, who remained at the centre.

Ameli stripped out of her outfit, until all that was left on her was a bikini. She hadn't truly thought she'd find any use for it, but then again, most of the clothing she had packed would most likely not be used on this mission. Regardless, a girl had to be prepared, right? Regardless of the planet, the situation, Ameli would have an outfit to match it. When she had been found out at the starship, she had promptly made an excuse to go back to her quarters and get her equipment. That was when she had changed. This had been her intention all along.

Her dark tunics and pants were tossed over the seat of her speeder. The blonde herself lay down on her back, using the robe she'd placed on the ground as a blanket. It was time to get her tan on. Who said conquest and genocide couldn't be fun?

 

[Komo]

Posts: [2/20]
Objective: #1 Capture the young
Allies: One Sith
Enemies: Yevetha, and more Yevetha.

The single dropship that carried the acolyte landed a short distance away from the breedery. Far enough to avoid any of the streaking small arms fire, yet close enough to walk. More dropships would arrive when the girl gave the word. These transport shuttles who remained in orbit, waiting for the order to be given, would be the ones ferrying whatever converts Greta could get this day. Her landing was but a discreet one, getting off quickly with a squad of stormtroopers. Her goal here today was but a simple one. Simple, yet important.

As the acolyte began to approach the entrance of the breedery, the Yevetha guards opened fire on them after letting loose a a string of unintelligible guttural sounds, presumably an insult or warning in their own native language. Quickly unclipping her lightsaber from her belt, she ignited the crimson blade, deflecting the oncoming blaster bolts while her stormtroopers returned fire of their own. The minor engagement was over as soon as it began, as Greta and her posse summarily dealt with the guards in an inconsequential manner, just like the value they were worth. She began to make her way into the building as more Yevetha began to appear from the woodwork, trying their darnest to protect their young.

An admirable act, yet a futile one.

The Yevetha were considered to be a child during the ages of one to five, and reaching the age of their sixth year, they would already be deemed as adults. While her troopers took care of the charging aliens that seemed to care about little else, Greta consulted her datapad on the whereabouts of the children. With a few swipes and a couple of of taps, the location was made known to her. A thick set of doors guarded the chamber where a breeding assistant had gathered the young.

The doors were locked, but it was nothing a good set of explosives won't fix. An explosion later, Greta and posse were through, and she walked into a rather ornate looking chamber, where an adult Yevetha stood guard in front of a group of the young. What happened next was surprising as the alien began to speak in rather fluent basic. "What are you here for, intruder! Begone! These are our young, not warriors!" Greta smiled to the alien menacingly as she replied. "Why, exactly. I'm here for them." The girl replied, as she gestured to the young of the Yevetha.

"They belong to the One Sith now."