Mon Calamari/Dac

[Jidai Geki]

Faust vs. Cadio:

 

Faust: after checking out the Bhelliom's sheet, it seems that your missile launchers fire diamond boron missiles. A quick check on Wookieepedia confirms these are anti-starfighter missiles rather than anti-capital ship missiles, so their particular defensive bonuses would confer no advantages in this instance.

 

A well-written post, it goes without saying, but I found it to be slightly vague- I take it to understand the Bhelliom is being controlled remotely and Faust is on board a capital ship with the Emperor, but this isn't immediately clear.

 

Cadio: a nice, understated post which was notable for its acknowledgement of the enemy attack and acceptance that it could result in the death of your character and his men, as well as a defence attempt that is reasonable and plausible given the situation.

 

In conclusion: Faust's one-post killshot attempt, whilst articulate and a decent attempt, is not plausible enough to ensure the destruction of a capital ship with missiles fired from a personal ship.

 

KILLSHOT FOILED

[Cadio Sikaot]

As the countdown timer became increasingly close to zero Cadio became even more resigned to his fate. A slight trickle of salty sweat made its way down his forehead, glistening in the reflected light. This was not the way that he had imagined dieing, but it wasn't as if he had any say in the matter. It had been up to his gunner's and they had failed him. As he was preparing to fill his lungs for the final time he was interrupted by a loud cheer from one of the closer stations. The sound waves reverberated around the metallic room, piercing Cadio's eardrums. His eyes shot open and he turned his head to address the commotion.

 

"Sir, two of the missiles have been destroyed and the other two have taken heavy fire. Another few seconds and the other two should be destroyed!"

 

The young lieutenant could barely get the words out because of his excitement. Cadio offered a slight nod of his head to the man before standing and walking to the forward viewport, leaving a group of shocked officer's in his wake. They all had their reports to make but he didn't want to hear any of it. They had succeeded this time. Perhaps next time they wouldn't be so lucky. He didn't need to hear the logistics of it.

 

His face portrayed no sign of emotion, no subtle hint of joy. The little things didn't matter in the long run. All that mattered was the insight that he was able to gain from the small battle. The forward viewport had become a favorite spot of his no matter what ship he was on. It seemed to offer something that no other location on the vessel could. It gave a sort of insight into the vast abyss that was space, as well as insight into one's opponent. A smart man could learn a lot by taking his eyes off the electronic displays and placing them on the glorious displays before him.

 

"Sir, all missiles have been detonated at a safe distance from the Sunrider."

 

"Very good lieutenant. Send a squad of starfighters to investigate the orgins of those missiles."

 

Cadio began a silent trek towards the comm officer. Though they were still alive for the moment there was still much to do. The Emperor would not be put off by one simple failure just as Cadio would not be put off by one simple victory.

 

"Begin a comm sweep and locate the enemy flagship. Have all of the missile launchers hold their fire. We will overwhelm them by firing all at once. Have the Starlisk, Sunrise, and Organa form up behind us and do the same. We must strike fast and hard at the heart of the fleet and we will only get one opportunity."

[Vladimir Faust]

Sweat beads the Hunter's face as he tries to keep the Imperial front unified with the battle mediation. Hatred for the enemy, and a desire to kill and decimate would fuel them to fight to the death. Though hatred was in no way lacking in Vladimir Faust, the effort to spread it out among so many still took substantial effort on his part. That effort would now be needed- not for a clean up, but a full out melee in space.

 

The lack of a cry in the Force made it abundantly clear his gambit with the missile barrage failed. A single thought is relayed, having his ship and its support crew make the retreat and vanish into hyperspace. Faust had contemplated keeping his ship as he was a competent pilot, but his place was here, helping the Emperor direct the battle. Faust, while capable of ground based and strategy among armies, had little head for directing fleets and was cosigned to this rather auxillary role.

 

"Your highness," Faust responds, outwardly cool and collected. "It seems the gambit failed." His lips twist into a sneer, feeling a ripple in the Force, gaining a hint of presense. "We are in danger. I anticipate their counter-attack coming quickly."

[James Krote]

(Delete this post please.)

[Cadio Sikaot]

((I'm terribly sorry about the time of this attack but today is the day that I had to get a lot of RPing done.))

 

"Sir, all ships are in place for the offensive. Shall we begin?"

 

Cadio took a quick glance at the diagram of the skirmish sitting next to him. It was going as well as could be expected but it was time to make the decisive strike that would change the course of the battle. Mon Calamari was a planet that the Republic could not afford to lose and if he could take out the heart of the enemy fleet he could take back the planet. He took a deep breath and turned to the captain.

 

"Yes captain, begin the assault."

 

With this order the four ships that had been holding back began to unleash a hellish barrage of concussion missiles and proton torpedoes on the enemy flagship. Five of the ships that had been protecting the Republic's flank moved in to protect the four attacking ships. The nine ship team worked flawlessly to take down their primary objective. Cadio stood from the command chair, drawing a few curious glances from his bridge staff.

 

He made his way to the forward viewport to watch the assault. He could never explain why he got such pleasure for standing in this particular spot but he did. It gave him a sense of comfort that no where else in the galaxy had provided him. As the missiles raced towards the enemy ship Cadio allowed a slight smile to creep on to his face. It was all coming together rather nicely.

 

<>

 

<>

[Vladimir Faust]

((Conceeding killshot on S.H. per the PM))

 

Vladimir Faust was not a tactician as far as space battles were concerned. He had a grasp of armies and terrian based manuvering from years fighting in trenches as a child-soldier and beyond, but commanding a ship was not his forte'. Even without the presense and foresight granted by the Force, his reaction at the upcoming volley was crystal clear- they were going down and going down hard.

 

"Your majesty..." Faust's voice strains as he seizes control of the surrounding TIES in a tight battle meditation. Against a volley from four ships, shields could hold initially, and the TIEs, callously, could be manuvered into human shields to protect the bridge and surrounding areas. The likelihood of the Solemn Harbinger's escape though in one piece, against four ships firing at once with five more standing by... unlikely. "We need to make a defensive manuver at once! Evacuate all hands and pull into hyperspace in individual ships. We're going to be dead in space." If they could just survive this, there might be time enough to evacuate back to Coruscant or elsewhere.

 

With anger rising beyond belief, Faust hurls himself to his feet, and stumbles from the bridge, his stride gaining purpose as he leaves, his feet taking a conscious direction. A long commander, dressed in Imperial green runs up to Faust, and in a moment of panic grasps the Hunter's arm.

 

"General Faust? What should we do?"

 

Throwing the man off and hurrying his step faster, Faust gives a crystal clear command. "Protect the Emperor and get him to safety, then do what you need to protect the command staff. He's the important one. The ship is not going to make it out." We were overconfident... damnable! "I have something I need to do- at once."

 

Alarm klaxons and the initial impacts shook the ship, sending out blares of light. Faust ignored them, contemplating one thing- escape. If the Emperor made it out too or saved the day, so much the better. If not... then so be it. The future remained cloudy on that, even if he could see the Emperor with the Force. With no flourish or ceremony, and with the narrow space between volleys of missiles, Faust boarded an escape pod, immediately regretting having sent his ship away- though he also knew the rebels were less likely to commit a war crime in shooting it down. The alternative was taking a TIE or similar ship, and Faust trusted his chances better on lying low on Mon Calamari for the time being.

 

The view from space was... depressing... should Faust have accepted such an emotion. Looking through a port window on the escape pod as it hurled towards the atmosphere, Faust could make out similar launches and various Imperial ships streaking out from the doomed vessel as it began to break apart in small sections at the hull, quickly becoming dead in space- some planet side, some streaking out into the blackness of space, others... hurling into lasers and missiles of oblivion.

 

Was Emperor Black among those who escaped? Did he go down with the ship? Hard to say, though Faust favored the belief the Emperor survived.

 

Time would tell, but Faust, ever-selfish, had his own concerns. The Empire lost this one, and lost it hard. Contemplating this as he makes a watery splash-landing, Faust immediately prepares a raft and breathing mask to be on hand in case things turned nasty.

 

Muttering darkly to himself, Faust lets himself float in Mon Calamari's endless oceans, fanning a cool breeze over his face. He gives one last stare skyward towards space. How he was going to get offworld this time could prove interesting, especially if the rebels tracked his pod on the way down.

[Cadio Sikaot]

Cadio nodded in satisfaction as he watched the Solemn Harbinger begin to break apart. The Republic had struck a decisive victory today and he was sure that it wouldn't go unnoticed among his superiors. He saw the many flashes of escape pods as they soared away from the exploding vessel. Some drifted towards the remains of the Imperial Fleet while some headed towards the blue orb of Mon Calamari. It wasn't unlikely that the Emperor was aboard one of those craft and Cadio was determined to capture as many of them as he could in an attempt to bring in the galaxies largest criminal.

 

"Captain," he called over his shoulder. "Send out detachments to recover those pods. I want every one of them and their contents accounted for before we leave this planet. Some of their passengers may still have a lot of fight still left in them. Make sure that the teams are alerted. All captors are to come back into our custody alive."

 

The captain offered a confirmation of the order before turning to relay it to those who needed to hear it. In a timely manner the vectors of the pods were tracked and the shuttles carrying the troops were launched. Thsoe that had escaped into space would be recovered quickly as they were all but defenseless but those on the planet could offer more of a challenge. If the passengers of the pods had managed to leave the pods and were uninjured enough to begin a trek across the planet they could be very hard to track. Cadio had faith in his teams though, and trusted that they would do everything in their power to return with all of the captors they could.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Abaord the Republic shuttle Endor Commander Shonka sat waiting for the pod they had been tracking to come into view. She let out a sigh of relief as she was the silver cylinder floating in the grey-green ocean. The co-pilot of the vessel activated a tractor beam that had been adapted to the vessel for missions such as this and began to tow the small vessel towards the land.

 

Within a few minutes the shuttle had reached the mainland and landed, allowing Shonka and her team to debark the vessel and prepare their weapons as the pod continued its approach. The team of twelve beings fanned out in a semi-circle that would encompass the pod as it sank into the mud on the bank. It came to a halt only seven meters from the closest soldier.

 

"Come out with your hands raised," Shonka yelled with an unwavering voice.

[Vladimir Faust]

Faust mediated in the escape pod, trying to use his sense with the Force to map out a possible escape offworld. The sudden lurch and change in his pod, fighting against the current gave him the first hint something was amiss.

 

Rationally concluding his pod was merely detected and was not identified, Faust lets out a small scowl, quickly working to change his plans. His idea of cybermentally summoning his ship to come to the rescue could be ruled out- the Bhelliom was far gone and unlikely to sneak past the blockade at this point in time. Fighting *might* work- if he could kill everyone fast enough. His gauntlet covered hand slides down to his lightsabers, fingering the activator. Possible, but one quick word to the wrong person- even one single communique- and he would have half the Rebellion breathing down on his neck. He'd survived far worse odds, but...

 

Finess it would have to be then, followed by a re-evaluation of his plans. Quickly donning the breathing mask, he uses his saber to cut a hole in the bottom of the pod just as it nears land- first to stop it from sinking too much, and second to accomidate the massive weight of his Sith-steel and cortosis armor. Letting the tractorbeam carry it, he slips underwater at near the last minute, literally crawling along the bottom of the shallows of Mon Calamari's oceans.

 

Hiding in the water just off the muddy shallows, Faust carefully raises his head above water, trying to stay out of sight, taking in the dozen rebel troopers surrounding the pod, focused on it. He immediately sinks back down. He could have killed the lot, easily, but probably not before a warning got off. Now he could play for time and distance.

 

Finess would be needed indeed, he thinks with a self-satisfied smirk. He felt confident and *mostly* out of danger, but he needed to be sure. He would answer them with silence. Eventually they would shoot open the pod, and they would find the lightsaber's distinguishable marks. What conclusion would they draw then? Uncertain, though it would bring more men more quickly.

 

Still crawling along the bottom as fast as he can, Faust mentally reviewed his plan. He would trail the shoreline at a distance of about 12 feet deep, go out about third of a kilometer, then make a run on the surface for better cover and a means of escape.

 

His situation was not enviable, and for once the Hunter was now the hunted, but a wolfish grin still spikes his cruel face. He would escape! He would make the Rebellion know how very, very close they came to having him on this day.

[Cadio Sikaot]

The few moments after Commander Shonka's exclamation were quite tense. None of the soldiers knew what would come out of the escape pod, but they were prepared for almost anything. The thing that they weren't prepared for came when they approached the pod after receiving no response to their demand. The pods floor was covered in a two-inch thick layer of water and there was a hole in the middle of the pod wide enough for a humanoid to fit through. Shonka let out a quick curse and pulled out her comlink.

 

"Sunrider, this is Shonka. I'm requesting additional forces at my location to assist in a search and capture mission. I have reason to believe that one of the beings to have escaped the destruction of the Solemn Harbinger was a Sith Lord and that they are at large on the planet."

 

She received a quick affirmative response and turned to give orders to her command.

 

"I want three man patrol groups every twenty five meters for a half-kilometer up the shoreline. Make no mistake that this being is armed and should be considered very dangerous. The second you see someone coming up from the water you make a report of it and your exact location. You are to use stun blasts only. Command wants this Sith alive."

 

She listened to the chorus of responses and watched as her team began to fan out down the beach as far as their numbers would allow. No more than two minutes later the reinforcements arrived. She relayed the same orders to these troops before returning to the shuttle.

 

"Take us up. Let's see if we can find anything with the heat scanners. There's probably a lot of life down there but if we can find an abnormality it might end this search quickly."

 

The pilot nodded and lifted the ship up on its repulsorlifts, piloting it slowly down the length of the beach at a height of ten meters. Shonka leaned back in her seat to wait. It was all that there was left to do.

[Vladimir Faust]

Moving along the surface, Faust kept a tight hand on his Sith and cortosis vibrosword. His blaster and saber would work once he was out of the water (though the sonic emitter in his saber would still function here in a rather potent fashion), but there was always that slight chance of a waterlogging malfunction.

 

By the time Faust covered his distance, the reinforcements arrived, complicating plans for his escape. A faint frown creases the hunter's face under his breathing mask as he hoped for more time, sensing the approach of a larger number of individuals. The rebels were not screwing around here.

 

Taking a half step backwards towards the ocean depths, Faust quickly considers his action, then reaches into his trenchcoat, producing two small orb- remotes. Though their ability to emit laser fire would be nullified by their dousing, Faust needed them for something more important: their repulsors and cameras. With a few quick thoughts, adjusting this cybernetic linkup, normally run through his ship, directly into the remotes, Faust lets them slowly float away with the currents, then drift up.

 

Continuing his slow walks along the bottom of Mon Calamari's oceans, Faust intends to cover more distance out from the initial crash site. If that failed, he would swim for it. His senses give a small spike as he realizes the remotes cleared the water, giving a fisheye view of the beach and its inhabiants fed directly into Faust's link, giving him a clear, cogniscant picture of them.

 

In groups of three, spread out at about 25 meters apart. Faust smiled. He could charge through easily enough, though what happened after could be problematic. The chase would be on, but he would be closed in like a vice by whatever lay ahead and those behind.

 

Thinking this through, Faust gives a twitch of a smile as one of the remotes picks up a rebel shuttle slowly moving through the beach. He guessed by its slow speed that some scan was being undertaken, though if he knew of the heat scanner Faust would have acted quicker and sounded a retreat into the depths.

 

Minded instead on escape inland, Faust hesitates, then decides on an attack to create confusion among the ranks.

 

Picturing the shuttle in the eye of the camera from the remote, then in his minds eye, Faust, force grabs it with the same anger that Vader used in throttling Admiral Ozzel, concentrating all his energies on grasping the shuttle in mid-flight. Holding his sword in both hands, he pictures the shuttle as if gripped by invisible energy, being forced roughly to the beach.

 

If he could crash that shuttle, it would create confusion and Faust could slip by. They would look for him in the immediate vincinity and not for a single remote hovering in the night. Brancing himself on the sandy seabottom, Faust pulls his all into bringing the shuttle down.

[Cadio Sikaot]

Commander Shonka sat complacently in her seat aboard the small craft that was currently sweeping up and down the coast of a Mon Calamari city whose name was not known to her. She leaned back and let her head loll against the wall of the ship. She shut her eyes and let out a slight sigh. How had she let this being slip through her fingers? She had spent her entire career making sure that her record was impeccable and she wasn't about to allow this little instance to become the blemish that ruined all of her hard work.

 

Shonka was about to continue berating herself when she felt the ship jolt. At first she cast it aside as some simple turbulence, but when it happened again more intently she knew that this could become a problem. She stood quickly and made her way to the cockpit where the pilot was wrestling with the controls.

 

"What's happening?"

 

"I don't know ma'am. It's as if pair of invisible hands has grabbed the ship and are trying to bring it down."

 

Shonka grimaced. This was no force of nature and there was only one other thing in the universe that had the power to defy the laws of physics. With this realization in mind she pulled out her comm and sent a broadcast to all of the troops along the shoreline.

 

"There is a good chance that the enemy you are searching for is a Force User. Stay alert and do not leave your post."

 

She shoved her comm unit into its place on her belt and turned back to the pilot.

 

"Lower the boarding ramp. Set the auto-pilot and let nature take its course. Get yourself out of here as soon as possible. It won't take long for whoever is out there to take this shuttle down even with your struggling with the controls."

 

The pilot simply nodded and set about to do his job in the calmest manner possible. Shonka ran back towards the rear of the vessel. She could hear the pounding steps as the two other people in the ship began to run towards her. They joined her after only a few moments and looked out over the quickly approaching body of water. She gave both of the men a look before taking a deep breath and diving in.

 

When she resurfaced she could see the shuttle crashing into the foamy waves. She muttered a slight curse and began to swim towards land, trusting that the two aviators would follow suit.

[Vladimir Faust]

Faust concentrates harder. Though he could have sworn he saw several figures egress and dive into the ocean he keeps it up- partially because of his committment to the plan of attack and partially because he simply wished it destroyed.

 

Moments pass and the shuttle crashes along the ground, its hull scraping, then finally ripping open with a loud explosion. Breathing hard into the breath mask, Faust clears his head, feeling a pang of anger rising up. No disturbances arose in the Force, no death and confusion. The shuttle crashed a lot nearer than he anticipated. Glancing up, he then notices two humanoid life forms struggling to surface from the shuttle. Gritting his teeth, his hand shoots foward, clutching his Sith sword tight. Invisible hands seize one of the aviators, treating him to a nightmarish vision of a pale trenchcoat, shining white armor, and two cold, icy blue eyes. There was a flash, and then blackness, forever. The other quickly follows suit, suffering a similar fate leaving Faust awash in a sea of crimson. Faust senses a third lifeform ahead, one who already surfaced. He miscalculated it seemed and clued in his position.

 

With that, he realized, cat and mouse games were over. It was time to show those I am an idiot-cats in the rebellion what it was like to meet a true wolf.

 

Grinning Faust changes tactics. Gripping his Sith sword in one hand and a flechette launcher in the other, he strides up to the beach literally walking out of the water some three meters behind Shoka as she reached the beach, tearing off his breathmask.

 

With that, Vladimir Faust steps onto the shores of Mon Calamari. Though his sleek hair and signature trenchcoat are dripping wet with water and blood, he stands tall and at a profile, his coat flapping behind him and showing a vast array of weapons. A cruel, toothy smile lights up his face, and his eyes, as pitless as ever, dance with savage pleasure and amusement. No warmth, no humanity is found on his hard face.

 

"Hello, luv," he calls softly, laughing, knowing full well that he was fully exposed to his pursuers "Looking for me?" Still laughing, he raises his Sith sword towards Shoka. A deadly blast of Sith lightning charges as he holds it in his right hand, starting at the hilt then taking off like a roaring dragon, echoing even over Faust's shout.

 

"You will regret hunting the Hunter!"

[Cadio Sikaot]

Commander Shonka dragged herself from the water and moved a hand to her face to sweep the hair that had lodged itself there away. She gave her body a quick shake and turned to address the three-man team that was closest to her current position. Her mouth was barely opening when one of the men's eyes grew wide and his jaw dropped. His blaster-filled hands came up slowly to point at an object that was behind her. She gave the man a questioning look before turning her head to see what he was staring at.

 

As soon as she had completed the motion she regretted it. Only a few meters behind her stood one of the most notorious villians in the galaxy. She had known that her target would be high priority but she hadn't prepared herself for this. Vladimir Faust was perhaps the last person she had ever expected to meet in person and he didn't look happy.

 

"Hello, luv. Looking for me?"

 

Her hand instantly dropped to her blaster. She spun in place and brought the blaster to bear. What was Faust doing here? He didn't work for the Empire as far as she knew and she didn't believe that he had a reason to. One of the galaxy's most feared beings would have been more likely to work alone.

 

"You will regret hunting the Hunter!"

 

Shonka began the action of pressing the trigger but for the first time in her life her reaction time failed her. A blast of deadly sith lightning connected with her chest, sending her flying back onto the muddy shore. Her body lay still as the life left her.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Jimmy Ztrohs watched in horror as the woman who he had fallen in love with was brutally murdered by the Sith rushing towards him. All the time they had spent together flashed before his eyes and for a brief moment he was taken to another place. A place where time stood still.

 

As the moment passed he was pulled from his revelry back into the present. The man was still rushing at him and he was suprisingly close. Most soldiers of the Republic never faced a true Force User and due to this they weren't trained in how to defend themselves against one. His already-aimed blaster trembled slightly as anger gushed through his very soul. He applied pressure to the trigger and watched as brilliant bolts of crimson energy rushed towards their target. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the second man of the three man team doing the same.

 

Over his shoulder he could hear the final man of the team alerting the rest of the troops to their position and giving them a miniscule set of details that could possible help them. Soon Republic troops would be swarming the beach and Faust would be brought down.

[Vladimir Faust]

Faust watches his actions, taking in the immediate impact, watching the body as it arched through the air, and then hit the ground, still. Still advancing past the downed rebel, his sword gave an almost negligent swing, the vibro enhanced Sith blade making a swift and messy cut opening her seared chest and abdomen. Faust did not even need to look to see the involuntary jerk as blood seeped out from this new wound.

 

She was alive, but only just. When she woke though, she might wish she was dead.

 

Killing would be useful here as it was with those two downed pilots. The dead though, would be mourned and left behind. The wounded would hang in the balance and require attention and resources to treat- finite resources that would be taken off hunting him.

 

"Are you so eager to die?" Faust calls out loud, addressing the two soldiers as they fire at him. Faust sidesteps the first blast by Ztrohs and parries the second with his Sith sword, almost catching the blast on the tip and flinging it back with a contemptuous sneer at the soldier who fired it- this time aiming for the man's gun shoulder. A nasty wound, a wound to tie and that would hurt like hell, but not kill immediately.

 

With the same sneer of contempt, Faust extends his sword after parrying the blast, leveling it at the three troops. Without a word or warning, the air around them thickens and all three, Ztrohs included, are swept off their feet, literally tumbled head over heels backwards through the sand. Faust, pragmatic as ever, does not stick around to see these results, but takes off at speed remarkable for the heavy Sith steel armor he wears, making clear tracks off the beach and onto the rocky outcropping surrounding the area.

 

Hustled behind a small rock enclave, Faust listens quietly, knowing pursuit would come and come quickly and in overwhelming numbers. Already he could hear pursuit coming. His eyes closed for a moment as he let his remotes once more scan the area ahead for rebel patrols and soldiers. Given how he singlehandidly killed more people than even Darth Vader in his lifetime, particularly after wrecking Coruscant, he knew the rebels would through everything they had at him. The question was what to do? A glance further on showed a Mon Calamari city towering in the far distance, but that would be on the alert by now. The rocky beach and tidal areas between would easily be awash with a legion or more of soldiers.

 

Fingering his sword, Faust knew damn well he could cut his way though them, but once more, then what? Taking a deep breath, Faust charges ahead at top speed, trying to put the beach behind him. He moves irregularly, knowing, sensing the on-coming barrage of stun and blaster shots from behind. He dodges most, parries others, and lets his armor reflect a few.

 

While the blaster shots reflected off his armor, he felt the stun blasts seep past his armor, running like electricity and setting his nerves afire. Though the alchemic steel deflected most of it, the stun shots still hurt and numbed him, causing the Hunter to stumble briefly.

 

Turning about to use a Force pull to bring the rocky walls down on and in front of his pursuers to slow them down, Faust once more took stock of the situation from his remotes. The outlook was grim, bringing in news of even more troops and possibly even ships from behind and in front.

 

His face darkening, Faust pressed on. He would cut this whole bloody planet to pieces if it would guarantee his escape. Hell, he would cut it to pieces anyways just for the inconvenience it was causing him.

[Cadio Sikaot]

Vice-Admiral Cadio Sikaot stood on the bridge of the Sunrider looking out of the forward viewport. A majority of his space-worthy vessels were beginning the clean-up process after the most recent battle of Mon Calamari. During times like these Cadio allowed his mind to slip away to another place where there was no war or conflict. He was able to retire and start a family without worrying about their safety. Sadly, he knew that this would most likely not be possible at all during his life time. Then again it was a good cause to fight for and possibly the only reason that he still did.

 

He was drawn out of his solitude by a young officer who needed to make a report. The first part was standard. The clean-up operation was proceeding as planned and soon the shipyards would be ready to begin producing ships. It was the second part of the report that caught his attention. There was a situation planet-side that would require special attention. Vladimir Faust was running rampant on the ground? That would certainly complicate things. Still, bringing in a man like Faust would not only make his campaign a complete success but save a great many lives. Capturing him had now become a priority.

 

"Prepare my shuttle. I shall be overseeing this operation personally."

 

Cadio turned and walked out of the bridge, heading towards the hangar bay. When he arrived he was pleased to find that his shuttle was already prepped and prepared for launch. He strode up the boarding ramp and a few short minutes later the newly formed assault group drifted out of the hangar towards the planet below.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Zachary Tyorna followed the rest of his patrol group across the sandy beach towards the commotion that had broken out only a few meters away. The trio was moving at a rather brisk pace but his military training made it an easy pace to keep. He saw the man, now identified as Vladimir Faust, take off and head farther inland. Tyorna knew that if the criminal reached his destination then their chances of apprehending him dropped to almost zero. They needed to stop him now.

 

As soon as the thought crossed his mind his comm earpiece burst to life detailing the plan of action that their commanding officer had concocted. The man wasn't dumb and knew that there wasn't a trooper alive with enough skills to take down Faust by himself and there wasn't an ambush that would be possible to set up and pull off successfully in the short amount of time they had. Instead he had chosen to simply overwhelm their target through sheer numbers. There were currently almost five hundred troops on their way to set up a ring around Faust in order to pin him down.

 

It seemed like overkill to Tyorna but he knew that his commanding officer didn't want to screw this up. He heard another voice crackle through his headset alerting him to his squad's new post. Nearly three hundred men had just landed at the beach front that seperated Faust from the part of the ocean that would take him from his destination. The remaining two hundred had landed a few hundred meters in front of Zachary to reinforce the troops from the patrol.

 

Soon the two groups merged and headed as one in the last known direction of the killer. They were approaching a rocky outcropping when all hell broke loose. The rocks in front of them came tumbling down, catching a few of the men by suprise and burying them in a temporary grave. Tyorna heard the order through his earpiece to begin the long hike around the rocks in order to meet up with the troops on the other side. With a sigh he headed off in the designated direction all the while hoping that the troops at the new command post were successful.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Cadio Sikaot's shuttle set down on the beach along with the other twenty five troop carriers that had accompianed him to the planet. Troops began to spill forth, quickly establishing defensive measures and setting up for the rapidly approaching criminal. He sent a squad of fifty men ahead to meet Faust and try to stop him. If the small group managed to do so it would make his job that much easier, though Cadio didn't count on it. He watched as the remaining two hundred and fifty soldiers began to fortify the beach in anticipation of the final climactic battle that would most likely take place there.

[Vladimir Faust]

Faust listens with sadistic glee as the rockwalls start to tumble down, bringing a cruel smile to his otherwise angry features. Those fools! How dare they even try to capture him.

 

As Faust turns about to head onward, a sixth sense, coupled with advance warning from his spy remotes forces him to look upwards. He saw the first shuttle and drop ships approaching, leading him to conclude rightly that the rebels were ferrying in men from the ships above to capture him. Grimmacing, he knew it would not stop until he escaped definitively or they caught him. Well, he would show them. He grew up in an arid hellhole, trained a a guerilla warrior from an early age. He survived then and he would survive now. Survival was what this game was all about. He glances behind him, watching as a dark and heavy cloudbank began to roll in from the far ocean. If he had tried braving the seas, he did not know what his fate would be. This part of Mon Calamari would soon look like Kamino during Obi Wan's famous visit.

 

"Alright, Commander Brannigan," Faust whispers aloud with sarcasm, preparing himself to cut through the wave after wave of rebel soldiers the commander was sending against him. Readying his Sith sword and flechette launcher, Faust prepared to slink out and engage the first wave of rebel soldiers.

 

*****

 

Damn them and all fifty of their blasted souls to hell!

 

Faust walked with a slight limp away from a stack of corpses nearly three feet high, and blood trickled down his face in several locations. A nasty burn covered one cheek and his now tattered white coat carried blood stains. To his rage, some of it was his.

 

Fifty troops made an approach at the Hunter, engaging in a battle that lasted only minutes. Faust met them head on at first, warned of their coming. His opening volley consisted of Force throws and flechette rounds, scattering the fools and then piercing their bodies. The results of the exchange lit the narrow and low rocky canyon where Faust saught refuge with brilliant flashes of crimson, violet-blue, and green. When needed, he would parry the attacks back at them, though a high powered stun blast caught him in the leg near an exposed joint, overloading the nerves there. Even now it remained still numb.

 

The bleeding came when the troops tried to scale down from above. Faust responded by using Force lightning, as well as his cybernetic arm to literally tear down the cliffs. With soldiers coming from all sides, it proved a costly diversion and a punk soldier came all too close. Fingering the tender and caughterized wound on his cheek, he scowled. That fool suffered at least- watching as Faust used his cybernetic hand to literally reach into his chest and pull out his still beating heart. The rest fell in their turn- cut down by reflected fire, fried by lightning, pierced by rounds, choked, and others dead by the sword.

 

Surrounded by corpses, burn marks, and copious amounts of blood, Faust leaned against his Sith sword. Fifty troops down, and at least 6-7 times that on the way. He closed his eyes, watching them mass, seeing the close approach of troop carriers ahead of the oncoming storm. Faust scowled, tuning out the sound of thunder in the distance. Damn them all for challenging him.

 

Shaking off the limp in his leg, he reached into his coat, and after a moment's hesitation, drew out his last resort- a syringe full of a black, tar like liquid. Developed by Faust custom for situations like this, it contained a mix of Sith poison to spur on anger and Force powers, but was also mixed with a special brand of super-stimulants- Drive and others- that Faust approved during his tenure as emperor. An tenth of the amount in the syringe would push a well built Imperial soldier to the limit, causing them to go without sleep, pain, or fear- only injuries or their heart giving out could stop them. Hesistating once more for only a second, Faust injected himself. He injected the entire syringe.

 

Come on, you bastards! I'll take you all! See if you can get me! Ah, the power! I can feel it! Yes, you will all pay for your presumption! You will--

 

The world turned crimson and for a moment Faust nearly lost consciousness as the drug hit. Images flashed. His sister screaming. The Imperial palace going up in flames as he attacked a royal wedding. Adi-Wan's head popping like an overripe melon. Mourners at the Master's funeral, dying in a flash of light. Darla turning to ash. The Death Strykers, captured and tortured slowly to death by him and SEED. Sinking the Eternal Vigilence. Coruscant's shields appearing at mid-level, cutting through countless towers, causing the death of hundreds of billions of sentients. The birth of Darth Riftor from the pain and torture he inflicted.

 

*****

 

The storm began to break as Faust reached the top of the narrow craig of rock. He could see the troop carriers and shuttles make their approach, along with the hundreds of soldiers behind and before him. A narrow pool of water glittered before him some twenty feet below.

 

His laughter, mad and devoid of any warmth, and now sanity, echoed through the area. Highlighted against the approaching storm, Faust stood upright and profile to the army set out for one purpose- to capture him. The bloodstains on his white armor and now tattered trenchcoat looked all the more apparent, soaking his shoulders and his cybernetic left hand. In that hand is his reloaded flechette launcher, which immediately springs to life, sending down a hail of deadly darts. Blood and flesh becomes splattered on the rocky beach, soon washed away by a torrent of rain. Below, it seems as if Faust, the mad beast, is crowned by lightning from above, his tattered trenchcoat a windswept cape.

 

"You're ****ing with the best!" he bellows, calling down to the scores of soldiers before and below him. "You want to **** with me?! You cockroaches!"

 

Blaster and stun fire come from below as hundreds of troops open up at once. Faust parries most of it with his sword, protecting his face. The rest bounces off his armor. A handful of stun blasts connect, filtering through the armor. Faust barely feels anything. With the high intensity stimulants in his system, his nerves are too overloaded to even realize they have been shocked beyond use. If not for Lord Reign's super human strength augmentation, Faust's his heart would have given out twenty times over by now.

 

An onset of fire comes down from the troop transports above as they take an aerial position to rain fire down on Faust. Enraged further, Faust yells back, drowning out nature's lightning from the heavens above.

 

"You want to play games? Okay! I'll play with you!" He points his sword, his entire body crackling with the Dark side's vile energies. "You want to play rough? Say hello to my little friend!"

 

A violent burst of Force lightning, one that causes Faust to nearly stumble shoots out of his sword, catching one of the transports dead on. The heat and insensity of it is enough to cause the very air around it to implode as if Faust dropped a bomb on it. It spirals out of control, flaming towards the ground. "You want to play rough?!" he calls, giving one last Force push to send it towards the troops below, letting it crash into them.

 

Despite the opening and advantage this created, Faust, totally mad now, keeps his position. Using his high powered flechette gun, rigged to a feeder belt under his trench coat, sprays down more deadly fire onto the rebels, following it with destructive grenade like blasts of Force lightning.

 

"You want more?" he screams, froth flying from his mouth. "You *****s!"

 

His screaming is broken when several blasts hit him square in the chest, along with the explosive force from an RPG detonating overhead, knocking him to the ground. Faust gropes for his gun, making sure the ammo feed is in place, still gripping his sword for support. His head rings, bleeding more. His vision blurs, but he doesn't care. He rises again to his feet, and while he's unsteady, he sends out another concentrated blast of lightning, scattering the oncoming soldiers.

 

Another transport appears overhead, sending down more blasts. "Cowards!" he cries, fending off the attack. Another blast hits another oncoming transport, sending it spiraling to the ground and then into a ball of fire with smoke reaching back into space. "You want to **** with me?" he calls to the downed ship. "Go ahead! Die!"

 

"How do you like that!" he calls, staring at the hundreds of troops before him. "You ****ing rebels!" spitting blood, he taunts them, even as he sends out wave after wave of flechette fire. "You think you can take me?" Another blast of force lightning strikes, followed by a force push powerful enough to crack the rocks below. "You need a ****ing army if you're gonna take me! You hear? Come on! I'll take you all to ****ing hell!"

 

The response comes back in a series of pin point and concentrated stun blasts from dozens of troops, hitting Faust in the chest. Staggered, Faust drops his flechette gun, but keeps a grip on his sword. Gone in the rapture of the Dark side and madness, he doesn't even care.

 

"Who do you think you're ****ing with?! I'm Vladimir Faust! You **** with me, you **** with the best! I'm still standing!" More shots connect, nearly knocking him backwards. His attention fixed forward, he lurched forward again. He doesn't even fire back, but stands there, taking shots that, without his strenght and drugs, would have dropped an angry rancor twice over.

 

"Come on! I'll take your damned blasts! Come on! I'll take your damned blasts! You think you can stop me?! I'll take your ****ing blasts! Go ahead!"

 

Watching the stunned reactions of the rebels below, Faust laughs, ignoring the troops behind him- lost in his insanity. "You think you can take me? It took hundreds of you to try! I... I have slain billions on billions! I am the true face of evil! This Galaxy, the Galaxy... is mine!"

 

Faust raises his sword, charging his body with energy, ready to send out another blast of lightning, this time for Cadio's shuttle in the distance. He aims his sword, and prepares to fire...

[Cadio Sikaot]

Captain Tyorna and his men silently made their way around the rock slide that had impeded their path. Tyorna knew that the troops on the other side probably had the situation under control but he hadn't received any communications regarding the situation and his military training didn't allow him to stop. If Faust had managed to somehow escape capture and there was something that he could have done about it he would have never forgiven himself.

 

As his team rounded the bend Tyorna felt the sharp sting of rain as the precipitation began to fall from the sky. His visibility range fell quickly as the torrential downpour began to increase in strength. The sand beneath their feet began to become soft and the trek became harder. He tapped the microphone on his headset and spoke clearly into it.

 

"Make sure that all of your weapons are set to stun. We need to take this monster alive."

 

The team came up to the base of a rock formation just in time to see Faust bring down a shuttle with a burst of lightning out of his sword. It was like nothing Tyorna had ever seen before and it only reinforced his belief that this man needed to be brought to justice. The men began the climb up the formation with the weapons raised. As soon as they came within range Faust would be taken into custody.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

"Sir, we have a clear shot. Shall we take it?"

 

Cadio sat in his shuttle silently debating with himself. He was losing troops fast and it didn't seem like they were making any headway. He didn't want to lose any more troops but bringing this man into the Admiral would mean that there was no way that he could continue his reign of terror.

 

"Give our troops a few more minutes. If they haven't taken him in five standard minutes then you have clearance to fire."

 

The pilot nodded and turned back to his task, unaware of the present danger.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Captain Tyorna and his men were now a mere fifteen meters behind their target.

 

"Ready."

 

Twelve men moved into their positions.

 

"Aim."

 

Twelve blasters were raised and took aim at the same position on Faust's body.

 

"Fire."

 

Twelve stun blasts catapulted out of their blaster barrels and careened towards the crazed man before them. When they collided with their target the man dropped to the ground, his sword clanging against the rock next to him. The team rushed forward and began to go through the procedures that they had been taught.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Cadio stood on the bridge of the Sunrider as it hurtled through hyperspace. A majority of the forces that had come to Mon Calamari were now on their way back to Gala. There were ten ships still orbiting the broken planet and the shipyards had begun to produce ships again.

 

It was said that staring into hyperspace was a good way to go crazy but it made Cadio feel at home. Faust had killed three hundred and twenty of his men before he was brought down and this was a good way for Cadio to get the tension out of his body. Now he just awaited the call from the cell block letting him know that Faust was awake.

[Vladimir Faust]

"This Galaxy, the Galaxy... is mine!"

 

With that cry Faust prepared a heavy blast of Force lightning, letting the dark side energies flow into him, then channel into his sword. Without thought, relying instead on rage and other emotion, he aimed-- and the world went black as his body went numb and drifted in the void...

 

When Faust came to, rage shook his body once more, forcing him to let out an animal scream... only nothing came out. He could see, but his entire body still felt completely numb, save for his heart, which raced at impossibly fast speeds. His eyes tried darting around, slowly taking in the interior of a Rebel brig. With great effort a snarl came on his face. How did this happen? How?!

 

His eyes close, their fire turning inward. He remembered combat, running. He remembered taking copious amounts of a custom drug he made. After that, he found recalling the memory peculiar, like watching himself watching through his own eyes. The mental and physical stimulus burned on his brain, but he remembered none of it. Forcing his body and cybernetics to replay the incident, Faust saw his last rampage replay in slow motion. Scores fell to his fury- its last victim being himself. How could he be so stupid and failed to guard his rear in his madness? Then again, what was the alternative against so many? They paid for their victory with blood. Some satisfaction was gleaned in that.

 

He looked around carefully, knowing he would be monitored and watched closely. Would the Force be here? Unlikely unless they were fools of the worst order.

 

He drew inward, meditating. Perfect clarity would be needed from here on out. He was alive and he was now the Rebel and the Jedi's problem. Slowly, working his numb, then aching muscles, his lips drew back into a feril smile. Yes, something could be worked out....

[Cadio Sikaot]

A cruise liner came out of hyperspace above Mon Calamari and immediately began its descent into the blue sphere's atmosphere. Most of the life indigenous to the planet had the ability to breathe underwater, and as such much of the civilization existed beyond the sea level boundary, but the capital, Coral City, remained one of a few structures built above the surface. The public transport ship slid into its assigned berthing and lowered its landing ramp to allow its passengers to disembark. A vast array of creatures, both humanoid and non, began to flow out of the ship in waves. The traffic eventually slowed until there were only a few voyagers left on board.

 

One of the last to leave was the Supreme Commander of the Galactic Alliance, though to look at him you would never know it. He was adorned with a dusty brown traveling cloak and simple beige trousers. He pulled the hood of his cloak up over his head and proceeded out into the blazing sunlight. He presented an identification card to the customs official, a fake to ensure that his visit here would not be publicly broadcast, before exiting the spaceport and heading westward down the street. He could see the coast from here, the place where Vladimir Faust had slain hundreds of Republic troops as well as being responsible for thousands that had died in the space battle beyond the atmosphere. The price had been high but the prize had been worth it. Faust in the Republic's hands for however brief a period. Now the Sith Master was leading a faction of Jedi on a crusade against his own. The galaxy had certainly changed.

 

He had been a part of that change. Him, Cadio Sikaot. Before Faust had escaped at Gala he had left Cadio plans for the defense system surrounding Coruscant. It had been these plans that had prompted Cadio to propose an attack on Triple Zero to Admiral Onderin Starlisk, and those plans that had lead to Cadio being charged with taking the Galactic Capital back from the Empire. It had been those plans that had landed him on the bridge of the Hand of Justice when Revan had been ordered to take the ship.

 

It was Faust who brought me Revan...

 

They had been separated on Naboo and though he missed her a part of him still wondered why she hadn't waited for him. His actions were better left unsaid and some part of him was still scared that if he contacted her she would ignore him.

 

Or worse, scold me.

 

But he couldn't let fear stand in his way. That was one thing he had learned in his time with the Republic. Fear was an emotion and nothing else. It was decided then. He pulled his comm unit from his pocket and input her number.

 

--Comm to Raven Zinthos--

 

Revan,

 

I am on Mon Calamari in the capital, Coral City staying at a hotel called 'The Rocketfish'. I will be here for one standard week. If you still care about me I hope that you'll come find me. I await your arrival.

 

--End Comm--

 

He put his comm unit back in his pocket and proceeded into the hotel that he had mentioned. He approached the counter and got a room. When he arrived at his new residence he was less than impressed. Though the Republic had been a struggling government there were still some comforts afforded to Command Staff. The double bed was accompanied by a dingy looking chair and a dusty lamp. A holovid projector with a bent receiver sat opposite the bed. Cadio laid his suitcase in the corner, changed into something more comfortable to sleep in, and let himself drift into an uneasy sleep perched upon the rough mattress.

[Raven Nasra]

A community comes into Cadio's communication device from his friend Raven Zinthos,

 

"I am on my way, be prepared. Keep it secret..."

 

((Sorry Internet has been really spotty here in Scotland))

[Ary the Grey]

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..."

[Onderin Starlisk]

((Post made with permission from Aryian to ignore typical response time as adjudicated by the galactic map.))

 

One of the words where Onderin Starlisk had spent the most time, Mon Calamari was a world that had served for a time as a staging ground for Rebel Alliance fleet actions. During the war's height, he had ordered the creation of star fleets that had fought successful battles in countless theaters of war, and still others that had been destroyed with thousands of casualties. Now, those times had ended, and the planet's shipyards had turned away from making warships back to passenger liners and other vessels for a galaxy that was no longer at war. And yet, even now that there was no formal conflict between empires and democracies, trouble had again found its way to this world, this time at the hands of a Sith Lord.

 

Having been actively seeking a Sith he could capture to learn of the whereabouts of their temples, Onderin had immediately responded to the call they had sent out asking for assistance in dealing with a terrorist attack. There had been no guarantee, of course, that the terrorist was a Sith Lord, but Onderin had felt the call of the Force and jumped without a delay, and now as he arrived he stretched out with his feelings and could feel the dark aura of the attacker... tinged with just the slightest bit of familiarity. He couldn't immediately place where he had felt this particular presence before, but this was a man that he had encountered before in some circumstances, and that put him on edge. Most of his oldest foes were rotting in a CoreSec prison or had been reported dead.

 

Either way, it was his duty to intervene against a being that was powerful enough to overwhelm Mon Calamari city defenders with enough consistency to deal significant damage and cause the loss of civilian lives. As a Jedi Master, Onderin took a deep breath to calm his nerves as his E-wing starfighter rocketed down toward the conflict, letting his anxiety leave him and dipping into the Force. No matter who it was he was going to face, he would fight without anger and without fear, placing his trust in the Force to see him victorious against any opponent. The energy field had bade him to respond to the distress call for a reason, and he would submit himself to its will without question or regret.

 

The E-wing was fast and maneuverable, optimized for both space and atmospheric superiority. Onderin knew his military history--it was on this world that such fighters as his had fought one of their greatest battles against Palpatine's World Devastators. Despite their superiority to the Empire's limitless TIE/D fighters, it was a battle that could never have been won without a back door command that ultimately shut down the attacking machines, but only due to the lives and efforts of the New Republic pilots had the damage the world sustained not been infinitely more severe. The result was that the battle had been a turning point in the war against the Emperor's clone, the onset of his defeat.

 

So, too, would this battle be the beginning of the fall of the Sith Order. Streaking through the sky toward the attacking dark sider, Onderin triggered a shadow bomb to be released from his fighter's warhead bay. Propelling the baradium-packed torpedo with the Force, he sent it after the enemy ship, deliberately aiming high so as not to put the city at risk. Moments later, it detonated with tremendous force and Onderin sent a comm to his opponent. "Unidentified vessel, this is Jedi Master Onderin Starlisk. Land immediately and submit to the local authorities or you will be shot down." He primed another shadow bomb and put his finger on the trigger. Getting the man on the ground would make it much easier for local security to get involved as well as making it significantly easier for Onderin to defeat him without killing him, but if necessary, he could outfly and shoot him down. He had, after all, spent the first few years of his military service as a fighter pilot.

[Ary the Grey]

((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.

[Onderin Starlisk]

Works for me, Onderin thought as he felt the dark presence depart from its vessel mid-flight. Even without its Sith pilot, the ship then whipped around with startling speed and took a series of shots. Onderin immediately rolled and jinked, turning a barrage that could have burned him into a crisp into something that his shields were able to effectively dissipate. But the purpose of the attack had been accomplished and the Sith's vessel departed over the ocean world's vast seas, having sufficiently bought its master time to reach the ground unharried. The Jedi Master disregarded it--he had a mission to accomplish, and capturing the vessel didn't guarantee hyperspace routes to Sith-controlled worlds.

 

Immediately Onderin felt a tide of fear rise off the civilians and security officers that the Sith was now attacking. He stretched out in the Force, drawing on the same fundamental principles that allowed him to use Battle Meditation, and broadcast a strong feeling into the hearts and minds of the populace. In a major conflict he might attempt to rally the minds he touched, provide them with insights on how to overcome their enemies and anticipate their attacks. Here, he had no time for such complex thoughts, and so he inspired within them something primal: "RUN!"

 

"R7, watch the area and make sure the Sith vessel does not return. I'll signal you if I need you," he instructed his droid before promptly popping the canopy and leaping from the starfighter just as the dark sider had. Already the Force swelled with intensely magnified alarm, the chaos of mass panic... or a war zone. It would have made it difficult to concentrate and draw strength from the Force for someone who had spent any less time in such environments than former Admiral Onderin Starlisk.

 

Over his several-second fall, he took momentary stock of his assets. He of course had his lightsaber, and ever since he had participating in the assault on the Sith Temple on Coruscant he had been wearing extremely light armor and carrying a backup blaster pistol as well as two concussion grenades. It occured to him that he hadn't checked the blaster's charge in a while, and he hoped that wouldn't be a problem.

 

Presently he again drew on the Force to slow his descent and landed only a few dozen meters from the marauding dark sider. He didn't even pause. His viridian lightsaber sprang to life, the Force connecting him to it like an invisible mental circuit forming that linked his mind through its Force-sensitive crystal, and he ran straight toward the still-familiar-but-masked man. Before he reached him, Onderin threw his hands forward and summoned a powerful Force push that would either smash the Sith against a nearby building or at least get his attention.

 

((Three post duel commencing. You can go first.))

[Ary the Grey]

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))

[Onderin Starlisk]

Onderin's blood seemed to freeze when the dark man revealed his face. He had, of course, heard that Aryian had fallen to the dark side and was masquerading around as Darth Ares, but part of him had refused to believe it. He had hoped that perhaps his fellow Jedi had gone undercover, or perhaps that Ares had been someone else altogether. As long as he'd known Aryian, he had known him to be among the staunchest in the Order, the most unyielding against the pull of the dark side even as he worked relentlessly to destroy evil through such organizations as the Augury.

 

It stung to see one of the best of them fall. Onderin began to consider the implications and what the stakes were for this fight when Ares attacked, cutting off his train of thought to allow him to focus on survival. Only with a clear mind could he let the Force protect him. There was an incoming lightsaber as well as one in Ares' hand as the Sith Lord charged. Onderin decided to treat them both as real and stepped forward, bringing his own blade across his body to intercept and bat aside the incoming weapon and at the same time building momentum for a strike at his opponent as that man came into reach, a classical Shien technique that characterized Onderin's lightsaber form.

 

After completing his maneuver, Onderin spun away. Shien wasn't always strong against a single opponent, and he had learned to use it as he traversed battlefields. But Aryian had been adept at both illusions and defensive shields, and now he suspected Ares would use those techniques against him. Shien's ability to defend against multiple opponents and deliver powerful, direct strikes would be well suited to overcoming both of those techniques--or so Onderin hoped.

 

Drawing deep, the Corellian Jedi swept from around him all manner of rubble, from tiny stones to smashball-sized chunks of debris from Ares' own destruction, then propelled them in a stream of directed Force energy at his opponent, from whom he had fallen back a step. Then, leaping back another step, he mixed a concussion grenade from his belt into the stream, both attempting to conceal it from Ares and grasping it firmly with his mind so that the Sith would be unlikely to deflect it from its course.

 

"Aryian," he said, choosing to call the man by his old name. "How have you forgotten who you were?"

 

((1))

[Ary the Grey]

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))

[Onderin Starlisk]

Unfortunately, Ares had managed to close some of the distance between them before the concussion grenade blew. Just as the dark sider was knocked back by the blast, so Onderin felt its energy resonate through his body, his hearing fading for a moment and his head suddenly throbbing in a sensation very similar to shell shock. Thankfully he was given a chance to recover when Ares took a moment to do the same, and as his hearing came back he realized that the man who once had been Aryian Darkfire was speaking. Questioning the meaning of it all and claiming to have found purpose in the galaxy.

 

Onderin held his blade in a defensive stance as he called on the Force to refresh his body, fade the ache in his joints that had been unsettled by the proximity of the concussion grenade, suppress the pain that wracked his head. They had just began this duel, and it was far from its conclusion--he couldn't have his body giving out on him yet.

 

Suddenly the building behind him was taking fire, and the Jedi Master set his jaw, knowing what had happened. Ares had taken advantage of the pause to get his ship in position to renew his attack. He also knew that the man's skill with Force barriers would likely be enough to shield him from the rubble. Unfortunately, Onderin had no such talents, but his fighter-pilot reaction times and officer's battlefield sense would come to his aid in their place. The Force accelerated his movements and he dashed away from Ares and to the side of the slabs of falling rubble, covering tremendous distance in a very short amount of time. Even still the rubble started to fall around him, and it was too plentiful for him to evade all but the largest chunks. A jagged rock fell and impacted with his left shoulder, causing him to stumble until he found an outcropping he ducked under to weather the rest of the storm.

 

As he ducked under the impromptu shelter, he quickly clamped down on his Force presence so that he would be difficult to locate through it. Soon the cacophony had died down, and Onderin spoke while examining his new wound and trying to gauge how much it would limit his performance.

 

"I remember the day that I performed the wedding ceremony of Aryian Darkfire and Armiena Draygo," he said loudly. His voice echoed off the rubble around him, making it difficult for Ares to guess his location. "Aryian had melted down and destroyed his lightsaber, a Jedi's most valuable possession, to make the ring for his bride. I was struck by his willingness to do this."

 

Strapping a bacta patch over his shoulder wound to keep it from bleeding, Onderin then pulled out his other concussion grenade. "Aryian was a man who knew what it meant to serve the Force, and one who would put down his weapon because he knew that the truth could never be found through violence."

 

Setting the grenade down armed with a deadman's switch, Onderin gripped it with the Force, allowing his presence to once again be felt. He then stood up so that Ares could see him and retreated several steps to another large chunk of rubble that would give him some cover, then clipped his lightsaber to his belt and pulled his blaster with his right hand--his left would be very limited due to his injury. "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!" Setting the blaster to full power, he opened fire on Ares, trying to take nonlethal but incapacitating shots, drawing Ares toward his location and maintaining his hold on the grenade.

 

If Ares took the bait and closed the distance between them, it was unlikely that he could detect the grenade among the rubble, and when he was close enough, all Onderin had to do was let go.

 

((2))

[Ary the Grey]

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))

[Onderin Starlisk]

Onderin was not surprised that Ares had no trouble defending himself against the blaster bolts, as was the plan. In the mind of a man whose principle battlefield had been among fleets, what he was doing with a blaster right now was exactly how he would use the long-range guns on a capital ship. Regardless of how little damage just a few shots would end up causing, being able to attack without danger of counterattack was an advantage that had to be answered. And so distances were closed in order to bring more guns into play and things turned into a brawl.

 

But the important part was that the brawl happened on the terms of the fleet that drew the other in. As Ares drew closer, step by step, he neared the grenade Onderin was still gripping with the Force. Suddenly, though, Onderin had another problem on his hands--the technique that his opponent was now employing. He hadn't seen anything like it before, but when the Force created a visual display, it almost always meant trouble. Whatever attack was coming, it had a chance to end the fight right then and there. At the same time, Ares was now dividing his attention between summoning the technique, deflecting the incoming blaster fire, and speaking about some sort of deity pulling the strings of fate and controlling their destinies.

 

Just like that, Onderin knew the fight would be decided in the next few seconds. The Corellian Jedi switched his blaster suddenly over to stun and sprayed one more barrage before the globe of air came flying toward him. Ares would not be able to deflect stun bolts with his lightsaber, and even if only a lucky shot would find a chink in the Sith's armor, it would at least serve to distract him. Then Onderin leapt from behind his cover with all of his remaining strength, his left shoulder throbbing and his head still aching. The Force came to his aid, giving his leap strength even as he called on it to push the concussion grenade the last couple of meters to Ares' location before finally letting go of the dead man's switch.

 

Both the grenade and Ares' bomb exploded at the same time, and Onderin was buffeted by the latter's shockwave. The extremely humid Calamari air superheated around him and he was pretty sure his robe had caught fire, but for the moment he had to make sure that Ares went down first. Discarding his blaster pistol, he called his lightsaber to his hand, landed on his right side to favor his left shoulder, then rolled to his feet and lit the blade, turning his attention to his opponent to see how he had fared.

 

((3. Good fight, man. I'll request a ruling.))