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Mon Calamari/Dac


Nikolai Kolchak

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For a long time, the Sith had angered Darth Ares. And then he had become one, and they angered him even more. Before, they were a threat. Now that he was one, they annoyed him. Every last one, with their inability to spring to action when it mattered, even the series of Dark Lords the Order had recently cycled through. Stagnation was the cancer that ate away at the Jedi and Sith, the curse that was causing the once mighty Orders to crumble like ashes in the wind. Ares longed for some semblance of turmoil, a means to vent his fury and frustrations in the chaotic eddies and floes of combat. It had become a problem for him lately, like a hungry dog tugging on his leash, but Ares was getting rather fed up with his leash. Loyalty only meant so much to him as long as he was able to keep his edge, a weapon unused only grows dull and rusty on its shelf.

 

And so, he found himself descending through Dac's atmosphere, alarms blaring as muted voices demanded to know his intentions and to follow instructions to land at a security center due to him failing simple flight plan procedures, and subsequently an IFF check.

 

His first strafing run was unimpeded, the eight laser canons barked up a firestorm, raining deadly red bolts of energy down upon the open and populated areas of the planet's capitol of Coral City, causing destruction and mayhem in the small metropolis below. Ares finally opened the comm, broadcasting on all frequencies.

 

"Come out and plaaaa-aaaaayyyy..."

Immediately reachable by  charlesjhall@gmail.com

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((Made from my phone as a placer, I was driving yesterday all day, sorry.))

 

The Blur swooped low under the cautious hand of Ares, skimming along the top of the city as the Force-guided missile detonated. He'd felt it incoming as the other powerful presence in the Force flared, and had cheaply used the city as cover.

 

His answer was simple, his starfighter dipped low as it compensated for the open boarding hatch in atmosphere flight, depositing the Sith Master into the air above the city. As soon as it's pilot was clear, the starfighter's AI took over, breaking heavily as it pulled up, driving right at the E-Wing and showering it with cannon fire. More shadow bombs would also prove to be ineffectual, as Ares could feel them and guide his ship through his implant, and if his attacker's ship had an AI much like Ares' own and pulled a similar maneuver for the pilot to face him on the ground, then there wouldn't be someone trained in the Force to guide the shadow bombs.

 

Ares looked skyward after he had made his landing, catching the last bit of harassing spray bouncing off the E-wing's shields before it peeled off, fast and low over the water. The Sith Master ignited his blades, grinning beneath the mask, the cracks of insanity fueled through the Dark Side beginning to show through his loyal exterior. His mental chains were breaking, and if they did, he would be a force unmatched in the galaxy.

 

Right now, it was a losing stalemate. The Jedi could either go after the unmanned starfighter, or the Sith on the ground, who even now began to attack and carve into anything and anyone he saw.

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The blast didn't entirely catch him off guard, but he wasn't expecting such a harsh blast right off the bat. Perhaps the Jedi were beginning to be more agressive, or, and more likely, Ares' writer had sent a notion through PM to his 'opponent' that had meant 'go ahead and be agressive'. Either way, it didn't leave the Sith in a better mood than he was already in.

 

He managed to cushion the blow enough that it didn't leave him seriously fazed from the impact with the building. It was then than he finally made eye contact with Onderin as he reeled around. Instead of charging, he stopped.

 

"Onderin! I thought you'd still be working a paper pushing job in the GA somewhere. The military suit fits you better, the robes make you look like you put on a few pounds."

 

Slowly, deliberately, Ares removed his mask, allowing Onderin to see the pale face of Aryian Darkfire beneath.

 

"I'm baaaaa-aaaack...!"

 

Ares burst forwards impossibly fast with the aid of the Force, his hand lashing out to the side to send the visage of a thrown lightasber curving out, ready to carve him to pieces barely a second before Ares would intercept him. Except he still held both his own lightsabers...meaning one was an illusion...but which one? If Onderin didn't act fast, he'd be just another statistic on a nonexistant casualty report on a Star Wars RP forum. Then again, it wasn't as if that mattered much, he'd just clone in three days anyways. The last bit of thought was mused mid rush and mixed with a tad of insanity, though it really held no merit over the battle at hand.

 

((1))

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Age and time behind a desk certainly hadn't done Onderin the injustice Ares had expected it to, the Jedi was still well versed in the art of combat. It was the blessing and the curse of the love of warfare, the dance of letters across the computer screen, the weaving story of two legends clashing and struggling to overcome and thrive in a harsh environment. A competent opponent was deadly, but it was also a welcome challenge to one who lusted for battle, to test the skills and roll the dice against fate itself.

 

But, the idle whisper told the Sith as he brought both blades up to block the powerful blow, that's just spitshining the real situation so that the others who ultimately decide your fate might be swayed by the beauty of the words. In all reality, actions speak louder than keyboard strokes... Recovering, Ares turned to the Jedi, who even now continued his assault through mass telekinesis. Rage tinged with insanity coursed through his Force-ravaged body, fueling him and driving him. His actions were not completely his, though he carried them out anyways, whether it was the Force whispering in his ear or something else entirely.

 

As Onderin reached out through the Force, so did Ares, summoning a barrier initially to deflect the first few projectiles, but his temper deteriorated quickly. He was Sith, and now valued action over inaction, and while he could easily have held off the barrage with the barrier, he instead chose to take a much more aggressive route, summoning Force blast after Force blast, like massive invisible fists blasting the debris in so many directions that Onderin couldn't possibly have time to regroup all of it to use it as more telekinetic ammunition.

 

And then came the blast. Ares was nearing the Jedi, and there was a hint from his danger sense before it happened, but he followed through anyways, uncaring. His last Force blast set off the grenade the Jedi had thrown at him, the concussive shockwave slamming into him and sending him skidding across the ground, his armor sparking from the friction. His head hurt and his ears rang, but it was a simple matter to shrug off such trifles through the Force. Lesser men, or perhaps even lesser talented Force adepts would be much more shaken than he, but Ares was the Dark Lord's hellhound, the right hand of destruction of the throne of evil. Slowly, he rose. If Onderin had chosen to continue the assault at this point, he would likely have had an upper hand, yet instead he chose to speak.

 

"Aryian...how have you forgotten who you were?"

 

Such an interesting way to phrase the question. You know who you were, deep down, somewhere. You might have difficulty remembering here and now, but you know with certainty it's all there and you'll soon unlock everything you need to bring the galaxy down in flames and chaos. The real question he should have asked, was who you are currently. Do you even know?

 

"Who said I forgot anything, Onderin? Maybe I gained knowledge instead. Maybe I finally found the truth. The petty struggles, the battle here, they're meaningless. THE WHOLE F***ING GALAXY IS MEANINGLESS!!! And yet here we are, blades drawn, going for the throat, and for what? Why? Haven't you ever wondered? Hasn't the question crossed your mind? Why we are here, whether or not there's something more out there than wars among stars? I've found that truth."

 

The sensor cloak proved highly useful, masking the maneuvers of the Blur to the pursuing E-Wing until the last possible seconds, when the weapons activated and fired. The bolts struck high on a building behind Onderin, showering more large rubble and debris down upon the both of them. It wasn't enough to bury them, but it was enough to pose a serious threat. The shot, however, was not where Ares commanded the AI to fire, momentarily causing the Sith's brow to furrow. He had intended for that to be the endgame right then and there, the shot volley intended to have rained down upon the Jedi Master's current position and obliterate him. But either fate had something else in mind, or the AI deliberately chose not to fire as ordered. Probably because it'd be against the rules. Whatever that meant, though deep down he knew. He shouted one last phrase as the shattered remnants of the side of the building fell, before dropping down to one knee and summoning an intensely powerful Force barrier protective shield around himself to provide shelter from the duracrete rain.

 

"I'VE FOUND THAT TRUTH!!!"

 

Have you?

 

((2))

Immediately reachable by  charlesjhall@gmail.com

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Rubble trembled as the Sith shoved, throwing off the rubble that had nearly crushed him. His shield had held, though it wasn't the hardest test he'd put himself through as far as Force barriers went, and he knew he'd survive. Standing, he heard Onderin's voice echoing among the stagnant chaos that littered the once quaint merchant's square. The Jedi's presence was hidden from him, for the time being, but Ares would find him, and perhaps even kill him. He might very well just have fun with him first. Most of what Onderin spoke, however, he had no knowledge of with the perspective of the truth. Aryian was just a man, a name on a sheet with an inventory, the true person pulling the strings always hidden, never mentioned or thought of. For a moment of insane amusement, Ares wondered if his nose would grow if he told a lie, such was he, the marionette without strings.

 

"Truth and violence, my old friend, are two very interconnected things. Maybe I didn't find truth through violence. Maybe through violence, the Truth found me. As for my wife, and I spit the word in contempt, she has little sway over my emotions anymore. We are nothing more than specks on the soap bubble of the universe, and we will cease suddenly when the needle is thrust down upon us!"

 

The one thing that Onderin hadn't remembered about Aryian was that not only was the former Jedi a master of Force barriers and trickery, but Aryian had specialized in Soresu, specifically against deflecting blaster bolts. Ares held that knowledge as well, Ar-Pharazon's technicians ensuring he remembered every last detail of his combat skills as they pulled him back from the nether into being. Or did they pull him back from the truth to falsehood? Knowledge was power, but also a terrible burden. The Truth had certainly not bestowed peace upon the puppet known as Aryian Darkfire. It was what allowed the Sith to split and bind his very soul, dragging him back to be the reaper of chaos, the Horseman of Death.

 

"You have forsaken who you were and destroyed a good man, and I will fight to see that Darth Ares will never take another innocent life!"

 

Blaster bolts fired from a single gun were like gnats on a hot summer's day. Annoying, but inconsequential. When the Master had faced twenty training remotes set on maximum difficulty, each spraying stinger bolts like individual hailstorms, a single man firing a blaster pistol wasn't much of a threat, Jedi Master or no. Soresu wasn't designed much for precision redirection, but it wasn't exactly difficult as Ares batted back each bolt one at a time, walking them in closer and closer. The bolts were powerful, and Ares knew Onderin would drain his blaster quickly and have one less weapon to fend for himself.

 

"You mistake me for my creator, the hound for the Master. Not that it matters much right now. Nothing matters, Onderin. You pulling the trigger on the blaster is simply the whim of someone unseen, someone far more powerful than you or I. So what do I have left? Am I to sit here and give in to entropy and accept my fate? NO!!! I'm going to go out with a bang!"

 

Ares began to draw heavily on the Force as he swatted shot by shot back, a small circle of supercooled mists forming behind him as he drew the oxygen from the atmosphere itself, storing the volatile substance bit by bit into a small Force barrier, the old familiar feel of forming a technique of his own creation, the Force bomb. In mere moments it was ready and moving, guided telekinetically as Ares threw one of his lightsabers, both objects zipping towards their target. As soon as the blade would make contact with the sealed oxygen, it would explode violently outwards, either catching Onderin in the blast or the concussive shockwave that followed.

 

((3))

Immediately reachable by  charlesjhall@gmail.com

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A few moments of silence echoed across the comm channel, before a new voice, a mechanical one, butted in.

 

"Confirmed. Master Aryian is unconscious, but alive. Vital signs stable. Thank you, Master Starlisk, Blur inbound for dustoff."

 

Not a minute later, the Starviper-class was hovering down on repulsors, making a tight but neat landing in the square. The comm channel crackled once again as the AI spoke.

 

"I need some assistance loading him into the cargo bay. Also, if you can and have equipment, keeping him in stasis is a priority."

 

The AI paused, thinking.

 

"I suppose it is also appropriate to apologize for my actions. Unfortunately, I am incapable of overriding his commands. However, I am able to alter the parameters, within reason."

 

"It meant no harm."

 

A ghostly image of Aryian Darkfire faintly appeared next to Onderin, staring at the Blur. For some reason, a feeling of pure peace washed over the Jedi, almost unnoticed, helping ease his pains.

 

"Dahar was planning on trapping him on Tython. I guided him in assembling the trap that would allow me to rejoin with my...less desirable half. But without it, I can never be whole again. You will never see the Aryian Darkfire you knew walk the galaxy again unless you take this abomination to Lehon and throw him into the trap. I...understand if you decide not to trust me. Speak with Dahar if you must. The Force will guide you, Onderin, as it guides me."

 

Aryian began to fade, but he turned to look the Jedi Master in the eyes. Aryian wore a look of concern, almost fear.

 

"More will be explained in time. But know that if you kill or imprison him, you simply postpone the inevitable."

 

And with that, the feeling of peace and the spirit of Aryian Darkfire vanished from Dac. Almost immediately afterwards, Mon Cal security swarmed into the area, weapons pointed at the Blur.

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  • 2 weeks later...

For the second time in two days, the Blur entered the Dac system, high in orbit above Dac. His intentions were communicated clearly, and just like at Lehon an armed escort was flown to meet the ship, though this time it was not allowed to land. Instead, Aryian was taken custody in space and his starfighter towed to a nearby orbiting station, fully powered down. The Mon Calamari were not taking any second chances this time, as it appeared the Sith who had just attacked them somehow escaped his Jedi captor and had returned for some sinister plot. They couldn't have been more wrong, but Aryian easily understood why they would suspect such a thing. Few people outside the main Force user factions really understood the Force, and fewer still inside the Orders themselves would even understand what happened to Aryian and the level of Force powers at play.

 

And as such, Aryian found himself inside a cell. It wasn't a terrible cell, but it was a jail cell nonetheless. For the time being, this was right. This needed to be done. For the sins he had allowed to be incurred upon the galaxy, it was necessary. Deep down, Aryian was a good man, even the very paragon of what it meant to be Jedi by some definitions, despite that he had left their Order and disagreed with much of the major dogma they tried to live by. Atonement was needed...it was the first step. To deny that would be like denying the wind from blowing.

 

And so, the former Jedi sat in his cell and waited. His trial was to be held the next day, but whether or not he was actually waiting on just that, he knew not. To be satisfied with not knowing...was a gift he'd never felt before. And so, he lied down on the sleeping pad, cleared his mind, and allowed himself to drift to sleep.

 

 

 

-------------------------Edit: The Next Day----------------------

 

The morning was uneventful, Aryian was changed into a prisoner outfit and brought before a tribunal consisting primarily of Mon Calamari and Quarren, though a visiting Wookiee ambassador from the GA was also present to witness the hearing. The leader of the Tribunal, a female High Arbiter named Quintar, quickly brought the court to order and began the proceedings.

 

"Aryian Darkfire, alias Darth Ares, alias Grey Master, you are charged with terrorist activity, disruption of peace on a galactic scale, random acts of violence on both civilians and military personnel of the Galactic Alliance, on a scale which easily reaches war crime status and a mass murderer. I have been chosen to preside over this hearing because I have experience with the Jedi and have dealt with the Sith in the past, and I will hear your story fairly and justly. You submitted yourself to this judicial system voluntarily and that will be considered, but your actions cannot be condoned and demand explanation. How do you plead?"

 

A long moment of silence befell the large courtroom as all eyes turned to the silver-haired shackled man, and for a long moment, he said nothing. That silence was broken like ice, however, as he stirred from his thoughts and spoke.

 

"Madame Arbiter, you are aware that I could easily break my bonds. I could easily escape the guards here, and the military units placed on standby outside should I try, and if I wanted, I could end this here and now. I am not here to do this. You have no need to fear me, and you no longer need to worry about the threat that Darth Ares was. I wish to atone for what I was forced to do, in a manner of speaking, and that is why I am here today. I plead guilty."

 

Another long moment of quiet murmuring echoed around the chamber as the Judge conferred with her colleagues quietly, before returning to her microphone.

 

"You said that you were forced to do these things? This council does not understand how a great Master such as yourself was forced to fall to the swayings of the Dark Side, and if so, why you still plead guilt instead of innocence."

 

"Madame Arbiter, the explanation is long and confusing for someone who is not as trained in the workings of the Force such as I. Suffice it to say, through my actions the Sith saw an opportunity to take a part of me and create the Sith you know as Darth Ares, and bind him to their will. As long as he lived, I was powerless to stop him or interfere."

 

"I see. And you claim that you and this Sith are separate entities?"

 

"In a manner of speaking, yes. He was akin to a clone that had some of my abilities and memories, but whose personality was warped by the Sith into a chaotic warrior who craved death and destruction."

 

"And you also claim that this Darth Ares is no longer a threat."

 

"That is correct, I have already taken measures to ensure he will never return to the galaxy again."

 

"And can you prove any of this?"

 

"....No, Madam Arbiter."

 

Another murmuring moment passed as the judges once again conferred.

 

"There will be a three hour recess. After which time, the decision will be made on your sentence."

 

Three hours passed in the blink of an eye, the majority of it Aryian spent in stasis. Though curious, he resisted the urge to reach out with the Force and listen into the thoughts of the council. Before he knew it, he was back behind the defendant's podium, and the Judges were assembled before him.

 

"Aryian Darkfire. We have known the Jedi for decades. You were a trusted Master of their Order for some time, and a highly respected associate of the Alliance after that. For the crimes you or the entity known as Darth Ares have committed, though you have admitted guilt to, you are hereby sentenced to a lifetime of civil duty. You will be the guardian of the peace of the people, and you will bring balance and order to the galaxy as we know it. You stand before us as Aryian Darkfire, respected former Jedi Master, and we entrust this to you. Do not mistake this sentence for freedom, should you fail to follow through on your sentence, you will be brought to justice permanently and will never see the light of another sun again. But we trust in the Jedi, and though your acts have thrown you in questionable light, you deserve that same measure of trust, at least once. Do not make the Dac people regret their judgement."

 

With the gavel being slammed down, the courtroom erupted in a cacophony of conversation, reporters broadcasting stories, humanoids talking among each other. To be honest, Aryian hadn't expected that result. However, it was best not to dwell on it for the time being, and simply be glad it happened in the first place. Aryian spent the rest of the day collecting his belongings, and leaving Dac.

Immediately reachable by  charlesjhall@gmail.com

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  • 7 years later...

Capture shot ruling


 

Spoiler

 

Okay, so first thing's first, Mijan already confirmed himself captured. This leaves me to analyze the rest of the situation, which really boils down to a lot of troops firing, Mijan throwing up a barrier to hold it off and offering Sara a moment to escape through a collapsing tunnel. All in all, well written on all sides. Mijan is a Knight and is certainly capable of the cover he provided, which was the tipping point for me determining that there was a large window in the narrative that Sara could have escaped through, the net cast by Delta's attempt not quite encircling her.


Capture vs. Mijan successful
Capture vs. Sara failed
Live thermal detonator in play - this needs immediate attention by Delta and potentially Mijan.

 

EDIT: As a note, there is still flammable/explosive lethane gas everywhere. In the interest of the story, the single round Sara is supposed to have fired from her slugthrower in her last post is here considered to have been a misfire, which did not discharge and subsequently did not set off an enormous fireball, which likely would have dire consequences for the story. This was determined by the storyline GM (Leena) to be the best way to handle this moving forward, and I agree.

 

Edited by Ary the Grey

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