Recreating the Naboo Stormwall (closed)

[Jameris]

Every day was spring on Onoam. Even at the darkest hour of night there was no bite to the wind. It was a place worth saving. That's why Jameris was choosing to move forward with or without help.

Not even a week had passed since a Sith attack on Otoh Gungah. The unprovoked nature of the attack served as proof that strange times were upon the galaxy. Usually, the ancient enemy of the Jedi were interested in power grabs and subtle manipulations to further their goals. This blatantly callous assault seemed capricious beyond reasoning to Jameris.

Though he had trouble accepting it Jameris could easily be considered a Sith. But not like this one. In his thoughts he still distinguished himself from other Sith. The Sith that attacked the Gungans had no apparent motives other than bloodlust for children.

Even after reviewing what data was relinquished to him Jameris could not make sense of the situation. Perhaps there was withheld information.

This led Jameris to put in a transmission to some black-market technology dealers he had met in his travels. It was always a risk doing business with these types of merchants but he needed stormseeds, a scarce and likely illegal technology in most of the galaxy.

Along with his message to the dealers he also sent word to some of his allies and past acquaintances. Maybe even a few contacts that should not have slipped into the list. Jameris kept his message simple:

"This is Jameris, I am recreating the stormwall in Naboo system. Find me on Onoam."

[Mak Manto]

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention, please? We have now arrived at Onoam. On behalf of the entire crew, I would like to thank you for choosing to fly with us today. We hope you had a pleasant journey. As you prepare to disembark, please remember to take all your personal belongings with you. If you need assistance, feel free to ask any of our crew members. Once again, thank you for flying with us. We look forward to welcoming you on board again in the future."

As the woman smiled and went back to the front of the ship, the passengers kept sitting, looking at the back of the ship as a lone figure rose up, his cane tapping loudly as he made his way down the long aisle. Mostly Humans, his appearance was vastly different from what they normally saw, but the whispers and muted chattering told him they all knew who he was. Every now and then, as he gazed down at someone, the person would either look away or start talking to the person next to them. Though, just as he neared the door and was about to leave, a mother with a young girl who looked to be six or seven finally turned to her mom and spoke loudly.

"Mom, that's Mak Manto, the snake Jedi! He's the one everyone hated!"

Stopping, he turned slowly, peering down at the girl who looked terrified as if she was staring at a monster. The whole ship became quiet, as if they had all been thrown into the vacuum of space. Her mother looked up at him, her eyes wide with anxiety. "Please, my daughter didn't mean anything by it. She's only a child!"

Gripping his cane harder, Mak looked around at every passenger before turning back to the woman, his fourth hand pulling out his pipe and lighting it with his upper right hand. As a steady stream of smoke escaped his mouth, Mak bent his tail, lowering himself.

"Yeah, I'm the one everyone hated, but it seems like I'm back..."

Frowning at everyone, his cane came down ever harder with every slither as he left the ship. Coming out to a pleasant and warm day, the spaceport was bustling with activity, with shopkeepers and businesses selling their goods, children playing and people going about their everyday life. Frowning even harder, Mak pulled his communicator out, finding the right frequency before speaking into it.

"Jameris, it's Mak. I've just arrived at the spaceport. Where are you?"

[Jameris]

The comlink chimed in its holster, though the message was muffled within the pouch he could hear it well enough, "Jameris, it's Mak. I've just arrived at the spaceport. Where are you?"

Now there is a name I have not heard in a while.

Of all the responses he had expected, Mak Manto was not one of them. Probably here to chastise him on a rash decision at the very least. Jameris deserved to be court marshalled and imprisoned in some backwater planets Temple. It was nigh impossible that Mak had those orders already.

Mak understands, he must, or he is here to attempt apprehending me.

Suddenly this had become a much more delicate situation. Jameris had already caused the Jedi Order so much pain. He had no intentions of altering his plan whether Mak was in agreement or not but that also raised the question of how to deal with the matter if Mak did disagree. Jameris had already caused the Jedi Order so much pain. 

Malevolent memories crept into his mind of a dark room with empty robes littering the floor around him....

Jameris pushed the thoughts from his mind and unbuckled the pouch with his free hand. He pulled the transmitter from it and paused a moment before sending back his own message.

"There's a restaurant adjacent the starport, DonFatso's I believe. Grab a table and order me a Jawa juice if you'd be so kind. I'll be there momentarily."

Once his message was complete Jameris placed the holo-tablet he was previously using in the desk drawer, locked it in, and stood. He sighed as he retrieved his cloak from its peg on the wall then gracefully whipped it around his back sending the tail rippling through the air. When it came to rest upon his shoulders he put his arms through the sleeves, pulled the flaps across his body and tied it shut. With a suggestion from the force the lights went out simultaneously with his exit.

[Mak Manto]

Slithering through the streets, Mak's cane tapped slightly, a steady stream of smoke disappearing behind him as he finally found the restaurant. As he came inside, he saw it was almost packed to the brim with spacers, traders, families and just everyday citizens eating and drinking. Spying an empty table that seemed to taunt him as it was near the middle of the restaurant, Mak slithered to the chair, coiling his tail around it as a young woman came up, her eyes widening.

"Can I get you anything, sir?"

"Yeah, a large Jawa juice and four fingers of Corellian scotch served neat..."

"Four... fingers?" As he looked into her face, he could see confusion and Mak cupped his lower left hand, placing it on the table and pointing at the four clawed fingers that sat in line with each other while his thumb stood up.

"Pour that much and served neat means no water or ice. Actually, better yet, bring me the bottle and leave it..."

A few minutes later, he got what was he was asking for and as he downed the scotch, Mak sighed as he poured himself another good helping. Looking around, he could feel the eyes on him again just like in the ship. He could also hear mutters and quiet discussions about why he was sitting there.

[Jameris]

Mak was easily distinguishable from the mostly human crowd, Onoam and all of the Naboo system were not a very popular destination for the other sentient species of the galaxy. It was apparent that most of the other patrons were not accustomed to his presence and hidden behind his indifferent demeanor Jameris could sense his despondency.

"You could've found me you know," he said with more disdain in his tone than he felt. Jameris pulled back the cloaks cowl to reveal his face and sat across the table from what appeared to be another failure as a Jedi. At least that was what appearances would lead him to believe. "So I take it yer' not here to bring me in," he glanced at the bottle of scotch.

[Mak Manto]

Staring at him for several moments in silence, Mak looked down at the bottle of scotch that had been left by the waitress, studying the label intently before he downed his second glass of the liquor. Looking back up at Jameris, Mak twirled his cane absentmindedly in his lower right hand.

"Do you know when this bottle was laid down? I didn't even know at first; I just asked the waitress to get me a bottle of Corellian scotch and I saw the year on the label while I was waiting. It was laid fourteen years ago, which really isn't that long of a time when it comes to liquor. I've drank bottles that were laid twenty and thirty years before it was opened."

Mak sighed, picking the bottle up and looking at it again.

"Do you know where I was fourteen years ago? Right at the edge of the line that separates the light and the darkness. I was slithering precariously to the point that a single push was enough for me to fall to the Dark Side. Practically every Jedi in the Order viewed me as a dangerous threat due to my militant actions against the Empire, the Sith and the Witches. My enemies were hunting me down, trying to kill me at any and all costs. I had no friends, no allies and no comrades."

"Fourteen years..."

Placing the bottle back on the table, Mak stared at Jameris, his beard crinkling.

"I'm the last person who would bring you in, because in many ways, we're the same. We made our choices to do what we thought was right, and we live with those decisions every day. That's what most Jedi will never understand what it truly means to be a rogue."

[Jameris]

Maks' last comment disturbed Jameris. The thisspiasians' whole view was warped.

"I am far passed being a homeless Jedi. That I still separate myself from being Sith is merely preference. At least your actions were against the Orders enemies. I killed Jedi," he spat out the words, his voice filled with venom and remorse driven anger, "perhaps you are not aware."

[Danster]

Danster patted the back of a Gungan construction worker as he stepped off the newly-repaired bubble lift connecting Otoh Gunga's western entrance to the residential bubbles above. The last damage of Darth Mayhem's recent assault on the Gungan city had been repaired; however, the retirement plans of the Gungan Jedi Master remained in tatters. With paranoia in the city heightened after years of peace, the public clamour had forced Danster's hand and his sense of duty could not be ignored. His lightsaber was dusted off once more.

As he made his way to the sub-pens to begin his journey to the Jedi Temple in Theed, a datapad vibrated from within a pocket. He removed the device and accepted the call that was coming through, revealing the face of a concerned looking Naboo Intelligence Officer.

"Master Bokoto, there's something you need to see, we've picked up some interesting images from our surveillance system on Onoam."

Onoam? Oh great, some Noobian high society type will be complaining about crime rates around their second home no doubt, the Jedi thought to himself silently.

"Fine, send them through."

Two pieces of moving footage appeared adjacent to each other, both somewhat grainy but the protagonists were clear; a Thisspiasian and a human both instantly recognisable to Danster. Mak Manto and Jameris Malak simultaneously on a moon of Naboo? It could not be a coincidence.

"Do we still have eyes on them?"

"Yes sir, we've been able to track Mak's movements quite easily, he's quite easy to spot on our surveillance systems. He entered DonFatso's less than a hour ago, we believe Jameris met him there soon after. Do you want me to deploy an enforcement squad?"

Danster audibly chuckled at the last question. Half a dozen barely trained soldiers armed with hand-blasters, they wouldn't last a second.

"No. Arrange me a flight-path from the Lake Paonga shipyard to the Onoam spaceport; I'll head there myself."

As Danster boarded his Bongo sub to the surface, the optimist within him desperately tried and failed to formulate a scenario where two individuals on the Jedi Order's wanted list being in such close proximity to Naboo was good news.

[Mak Manto]

Mak sighed again, twirling his cane lazily in his hand until it stopped and landed on the table, causing the bottle of scotch and glasses to shake just slightly.

"Jameris, I've done far worse things that are beyond forgiveness than that. Again, you're here as a Jedi, not as a Sith. You haven't fallen to the Dark Side completely, so we just continue on..."

Mak closed his eyes, shaking his head softly before he looked at Jameris tiredly.

"I didn't come here to arrest you. I came because you called, because you said you needed help. You can believe me or not, but that's up to you..."

[Jameris]

"Far worse things than I?" Jameris threw his head back and bellowed with laughter. "Fallen?" He continued laughing.

Mak was clearly off his rocker. How could Jameris believe someone that had done worse than himself could possibly be here to help. Truth be told, he only decided to help this place because nobody knew his past or bothered him and....he liked the weather.

"Why then, oh committer of great atrocities," mockery in his tone. Jameris reached down slowly as he spoke and pulled a lightsaber from under his cloak. He kept his fist clenched tight around the hilt as he brought his arm to rest lengthwise on the table like a barrier between them with the weapon easily visible in his hand. It was clearly a warning of what could be next, "Why have you come?"

A gasp from a nearby table followed by a stuttering shriek from the passing waitress, "las....laser....laser-thingy." As the words left her mouth she ran, nearby patrons began to scramble as well. Commotion erupted but Jameris kept his eyes narrowed intently on Mak. Most darted for the doors, tripping over each other and shouting as they barreled towards the exits. A few pulled out their devices and began recording...