Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private Rattlesnake


Her hand was easily shrugged, and his anger, to Arris, was completely understandable. She knew what sunk cost felt like. Especially when murder and all things ugly were at play.

She listened quietly and didn't flinch when he unleashed a blast of telekinetic power down the stretch. That too was understandable. Gracious, really, when she considered just what a Sith might do in these moments of despair. Which was exactly why she knew he wasn't one.

"Look at me," she said. It was a soft-spoken command. "This for nothing you're afraid of is banthashit. But the for something ain't, okay? For the people that remain - those you love, those you want to protect. For yourself. All of that is something."

Arris stepped after him, but kept her distance. She was wary of crowding his space.

What he said about Mercy Mercy hadn't escaped her, either. "You don't know Mercy or what she's after, Ace. Of course, she wants you to challenge her. She wants everyone to challenge her. You weren't there on Ruusan. I was. You never fought her. I have. The only thing that drives her is the escalation of the game. And the only thing she's after here is bringing more players to the stage." There was a slight pause.

"The only victory is to walk away. That's the only strategy Mercy cannot defend against."

Arris exhaled sharply. This was stupid. "Do me a weird favor... Just think about where you were five years ago."
 
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Location: Corellia


Ace glanced at her with a scowl that did a poor job of hiding the pain underneath. Still, he listened, eyes dropping briefly toward the cracked duracrete before lifting back to her as she approached. He said nothing when she then went on about Mercy.

Then he scoffed. He already knew what Mercy wanted. She looked at the galaxy and saw a cycle. Institutions rising. Institutions falling. The strong replacing the weak over and over again. Maybe she believed she was forcing something stronger to emerge from the chaos. Maybe she genuinely thought she was improving things.

Or maybe she just enjoyed being the one swinging the hammer.

Either way, Ace understood the idea. What he didn't understand was Arris telling him to walk away. Did she think he couldn't do it? That he wasn't capable of surpassing Mercy?

The thought lingered only briefly before her final words pulled him elsewhere. Five years ago. For the first time since the conversation started, some of the tension left his face, and his expression softened into consideration.

Five years ago he was running errands for Tessk through the Vergeworks. Sneaking off with Hina. Arguing with Risk. Trying to figure out who his parents were and whether they were ever coming back. Back then the biggest question in his life wasn't the fate of the galaxy. It was whether there was anything waiting for him beyond Bonadan.

Slowly, Ace turned his head away and lowered it.

"I was just a kid."

The admission came quiet, and for several seconds he stared at nothing. Then he spoke again.

"Why? Why do you suddenly care?"

Ace still wasn't looking at her and he sounded like he genuinely didn't understand.

Arris Windrun Arris Windrun
 

"Just a kid," she repeated. "Five years ago, I was right here in Coronet City - a shockboxer... I participated in fixed fights, helped 'em make a lot of credits that way. When I wasn't doing that, I was shaking people down or beating them within an inch of their lives. Anything to keep the lights on and pay for all this." She gestured at herself; the expensive cybernetics.

"Five years ago, I was closer to being thirty, and you to ten." She chuckled bitterly. "I know it's rich to pull the age card, but... you're still just a kid." She hooked the gunbelt with her foot and kicked it back up into her hand, hoisting it over her shoulder.

She looked up at the sky, which now had starlight thanks to the blackout. The Deep Core painted itself in a myriad of lights and layered colors.

"I'm sticking with the Covenant to be there for the people I love... in the sick little way that I do," she frowned, self-depreciatively.

Then, she glanced at him, whether or not he still faced away. "Looks like you're compromised, kid."

 

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Location: Corellia


Ace's eyes remained fixed on the city while Arris spoke, but he wasn't really looking at it anymore. Five years ago Arris said she was a shockboxer and a thug.

Arris's life was completely different, her values and morals were different, and yet somehow she'd arrived at the exact same place as everyone else.

Sibylla. Lorn. Aether. Now Arris. The realization settled slowly and painfully.

"You once told me that what frightened you most about Dathomir was not what you had done… But that you felt nothing while doing it. That you feared becoming a slave to your emotions....a monster. Well, there is your answer... because instead of choosing differently…You are choosing to become exactly that. To be a slave to your emotions."

"I've seen this before, you tell yourself it's temporary. That you're still in control. That you'll step away when it's done. You don't. You lose track of where the line was. Then one day you look back and realize it's gone."

"So are you doing the right thing? That's the wrong question. You have to decide if the power to destroy the 'big bad' is worth losing people you love. Because try as you might, they will get hurt or they will be lost. And when the Covenant someday falls - as all nations do - you'll have to live with the man standing atop the ashes."

"Look at me," she said. It was a soft-spoken command. "This for nothing you're afraid of us banthashit. But the for something ain't, okay? For the people that remain - those you love, those you want to protect. For yourself. All of that is something."

None of them had been telling him different things, more like different versions of the same thing. The same warning. Over and over. And suddenly he understood why he'd spent months arguing with all of them. Because if they were right... then everything he'd done became harder to justify.

A slow breath escaped him. For the first time in months, he stopped fighting the thought. They were right. The admission hit harder than any lightsaber, not because he'd been convinced, because he'd already known. Deep down. The entire time.

That was the truth. Not that he wanted to protect his people, or that he loved them. He did. The lie was that it'd be worth it, and eventually the sacrifices would justify themselves. That one day he'd stabilize the galaxy, remove the threats, protect the people he cared about and somehow all the blood, all the lies, all the compromises would balance out.

But it was never going to end. There was always going to be another threat, another enemy, another reason, another sacrifice. His hands rose and buried themselves in his hair before sliding down over his face, and then the walls broke.

Tapani. Coruscant. Trinity. Balmorra. Even Remowa. The people he'd killed, hurt, the relationships he'd damaged and the things he'd become comfortable doing. All of it crashed into him at once.

The guilt, disgust, self-hatred, disappointment. All of it raw and ugly. Then came a grief so deep it felt like something was tearing inside his chest. Not just for them, but for himself. For every piece of himself he'd destroyed so he could keep moving.

His shoulders shook once beneath the weight of it and a bitter laugh escaped him. Because the worst part? Walking away wouldn't fix any of it. It wouldn't bring anyone back, make Sibylla forgive him, or make Lorn trust him again. It wouldn't erase a single thing.

He'd already gone too far for that. Redemption wasn't even on the table anymore, and that was what made it so tempting to stay. To keep going and burying it, to keep telling himself there was still a finish line waiting at the end of all this.

But there wasn't. He knew there wasn't. For the first time in months, he couldn't lie to himself about it anymore.

Ace lowered his hands, eyes remaining fixed on the ground. Quiet. Exhausted. Broken.

"I know." He finally said, the words barely escaped him.

This was a confession months overdue. Because deep down he'd known for a long time. Despite everything he'd done... despite everything he'd become...

He knew he couldn't keep walking this road.

Arris Windrun Arris Windrun
 

Arris Windrun read people. She traced that instinct back to her days as a fighter, but really, she had always been a little too aware, even before then.

The war going on inside Ace was quiet on the outside, but she still saw the deafening violence buried beneath the surface, and recognized the moment her apprentice finally capitulated. She was relieved.

Then, those two soft words, barely above a whisper, left him; the finality of his defeat.

She turned back to the sky, where the Twin Worlds drifted, they were so close together, that from this distance they appeared as a single, glowing blob.

Arris let out a low whistle.

"I know this doesn't really mean anything, but from a certain distance, somewhere in time, the light that touched her is still going... Floating out there in space." She wanted to gag at her own words.

Sappy romanticism wrapped in the barely scientifically true wasn't for her. But then she just laughed quietly.

She sighed and looked back over her shoulder. "So - what now?"

 

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Location: Corellia


Arris's whistle finally pulled Ace's attention away from the ground. He turned his head slightly, listening as she spoke about light still traveling through space. About how, somewhere out there, the light that had touched her was still going. Rox, he assumed. The thought lingered only briefly before he felt Arris's discomfort beneath her words.

It made sense. Arris Windrun trying to be sentimental was somehow stranger than watching her shoot a man through the head.

Ace took a few moments before answering Arris's question. His gaze drifted upward toward the stars. The Twin Worlds hung overhead, glowing against the darkness. Something about them reminded him of the twin moons he'd watched from Bonadan. Back when life had been both smaller and simpler.

"For the first time in a long time... I... I don't know."

There was no next objective, no next justification, no next move already planned three steps ahead. Just uncertainty. His eyes remained on the stars a little longer before eventually lowering again. Then another thought surfaced.

"What will you tell the others?"

His gaze shifted toward her, not because he particularly cared what Mercy or the rest of the Covenant thought. But he was curious.

Then his thoughts lingered elsewhere, to Lysander, Varin, Isobel, Lily. They were different. For all the darkness surrounding the Covenant, there was still something in each of them worth preserving. Something worth saving, maybe. Especially Isobel, she never belonged there.

Then his attention returned fully to Arris, and he found himself looking at her differently than he had before today. The person she'd once been, the person he now saw she was still capable of being.

She knew everything now. What he'd done, what he'd become and what he intended, and she never reached for her gun. She told him to leave. As if she actually cared what happened to him, like she was worried about what this path would do to whatever remained of his soul. That wasn't nothing.

Ace looked away briefly, then back again. "Why did you wear her face, Arris?"

Arris Windrun Arris Windrun
 

What would she tell the others?

"That you left." Truth didn't always mean context. She'd keep it simple as that. "And how about you? Keep in mind, anything that weakens the Covenant puts people at risk." She meant the people she cared for, but Arris assumed there were those still in the Covenant that Ace cared for, too.

It was a bit of emotional blackmail to say that to him, she knew that.

The cyborg hoisted the gunbelt back onto her shoulder as it began to slip. Nearly missed his last question. When the words replayed in her head, she locked up a little and fell into a memory.

CORELLIA - ABOUT A DECADE AGO

"Next time we're gonna replace it all with synthetic stuff."

Arris was on an operating table, surrounded by surgery droids and an underworld doctor who specialized in cybernetics.

"Spare ya the pain of being constantly cut open." He rubbed his chin in quiet appraisal. "Y'know, we can change your whole look, too. Might wanna consider that - not that you ain't a looker, but a cybernetic hottie draws a crowd, y'know? Maybe pick something you'll want to see in the mirror."

A FEW WEEKS LATER

Arris bent over the sink in the locker room, trying to calm her nerves. Muffled cheers erupted in the background as another fight ended. She was up next.

"Something I wanna see in the mirror." She chuckled quietly to herself and looked up at her reflection - blonde locks dangling past her shoulder.

PRESENT

A broken collage of thoughts and memories unraveled inside her mind. No matter where Arris Windrun went, Roxana Bel Numen went with her. Every victory and defeat, all the broken noses and turned up beer spilling from her guts onto the floor, joyrides and swoop races galore - she was there with Arris through all of it... Waiting to be buried.

She exhaled slowly and looked at him, smiling bittersweetly. "Oh, haven't you heard?"

"Haven't you heard?"
"Haven't you heard?"
"What, haven't you heard?"

"I'm real messed up in the head."

Arris grinned.

 

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Location: Corellia


Ace was genuinely surprised by her answer. It was simple, clean, and far kinder than he expected. But what followed gave him pause.​
"And how about you? Keep in mind, anything that weakens the Covenant puts people at risk."
His eyes drifted away from her for a moment, because she was right, and he hated that she was. The Covenant was still dangerous, and undeniably still a threat. If anything, now that his original objective had fallen apart, the smart thing would've been to hand everything he knew to the Republic. Or Mandalore. Give someone some leverage.​
But then his thoughts drifted elsewhere.​
Isobel.​
Lily.​
Even Lysander and Varin.​
The acolytes.​
The hundreds of people trapped somewhere inside the machine who'd never really been given a choice. Arris had known exactly where to stick the knife. It was manipulative, unfair, and it worked.​
"I hadn't thought that far." He admitted, but the tone in his voice conveyed his hesitance at the prospect.​
Then came her explanation about Rox. Or whatever that explanation had been. He listened quietly, trying to decide whether Arris was deflecting, telling the truth, or if those two things had become so tangled together that even she couldn't tell the difference anymore. Maybe it didn't matter.​
A humorless huff escaped through his nose. "Yeah. That sounds about right."
For a few moments, more silence hung between them. The stars hung overhead. The Twin Worlds drifted together across the night sky.​
Eventually Ace exhaled, long and slow. Then he looked at her one last time.​
"See you around, Arris." A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Maybe you aren't a total piece of shit."
It was probably the closest thing to gratitude he knew how to give. Without waiting for a response, Ace turned and started walking.​
 

He hadn't thought that far. Arris snorted quietly. Yeah, that sounded about right.

Oh, he said the same thing about her. That made her smile.

"See you around, Arris." A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Maybe you aren't a total piece of shit."

Her heart should have sunk. Fuck she wished she had an organic heart to feel crushed under the weight of that. Not this... This...

She released the implant's hold on her gut. Which meant a wave of physical, searing pain washed over her. Her insides hadn't been in good shape - not for a long time. After her duel with Vestra, they were in a terrible spot and getting worse every day.

But in the torture of chronic pain, she felt it. The emotional distress. The aching grief and overwhelming helplessness of her situation. He walked away, down the dark street. She fell to her hands and knees, the gunbelt slid off her shoulder, slumping to the duracrete. Arris let out a choked sound, trying so desperately to force tears from cybernetic eyes. It wouldn't happen. It couldn't happen. She knew that. But she tried. Tried. Tried.

Tried.

Tried.

Arris tried.

END

 

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