Competition: Ph1 Fiction: All An Elaborate Ruse

Finished
Ph1 Fiction: All An Elaborate Ruse

All seemed to be going well on the approach to the island, until quite suddenly, it was not. For reasons unclear, every person present on the incoming flight, from the DDF troops and pilots to the Arconans themselves, began experiencing some sort of in-depth hallucination. Are these visions? Are they illusions? Has your character’s mind finally broken? Or is someone trying to break it?

The fate of each ship, whether making a successful (or unsuccessful) water landing or crashing on or near the shore of Tekpantli itself, is up to you. So too is what your character experiences. Are they wracked by nightmares and sheer, inexplicable terror? Or are they caught up in their wildest, sweetest dreams? Can their resolve overcome enough to realize, and will they even choose to wake if it does? Perhaps a comrade tears them from a dream they never want to leave, or rescues them from waking horror?

Anyone approaching the island will be affected. What that entails, and the therapy costs after it (if there is an after) is up to you!

Rules and Grading

  • In a minimum of 500 words detail how your character(s) will take on their challenge. The story should focus on your chosen character(s) that may include your main, alt, and/or NPCs with valid character sheets. Note that using others’ characters is authorized, including the Consul and Proconsul, but should be done so only with the owner’s permission and with the focus of the story still on your own character(s).
  • Entries should follow the standard process of submitting the file with a selection of the desired Loadout(s) for your personal character(s).
  • Accepted submission forms are in-site text box or PDF.
  • Grading will be done in accordance with the Fiction Grading Rubric.
  • Valid submissions will be awarded Clusters of Ice according to the Voice Guidelines. The top placements will be awarded Third Level Crescents according to participation guidelines.
Competition Information
Parent Competition
Arcona: The Godhunt
Organized by
Qyreia Arronen, Master Ruka Tenbriss Ya-ir
Running time
2023-03-25 until 2023-04-15 (22 days)
Target Unit
Clan Arcona
Competition Type
Fiction
Awards
Third Level Crescents and Clusters of Ice as per VOICE guidelines
Participants
20 subscribers, of which 14 have participated.
Results
Member
Envoy Zuza Lottson
File submission
Tekpantli Ruse - Zuza.pdf
Placement
1st place
Member
General Stres'tron'garmis
File submission
Ser Strong and the Fair Lek-Maiden.pdf
Placement
2nd place
Member
Proconsul Diyrian "Diy" Grivna
File submission
The Godhunt_ Islandfall.pdf
Placement
3rd place
Member
Aedile Tali Sroka
File submission
Heart's Desire.pdf
Placement
4th place
Member
Lord Marick Tyris Arconae
File submission
Zig - Solo Fiction.pdf
Placement
5th place
Member
Battlemaster Karran Val'teo
File submission
All An Elaborate Ruse - L'ara Erinos (1).docx
Placement
Participation only
Member
Dr. Aru Law
File submission
Untitled document (3).pdf
Placement
No placement
Member
Doon Sulvir
File submission
Sulvir’s End (Final Draft V2).pdf
Textual submission

Trauma and violence / gore warning

Placement
No placement
Member
Archian
File submission
Icy Grasslands.pdf
Placement
No placement
Member
Dr. Rhylance
File submission
A Hero's Ending..pdf
Placement
No placement
Member
Sivall Tenbriss Ya-ir Zoria
File submission
The Darkness Within.pdf
Placement
No placement
Member
General Ood Bnar
File submission
3317_OodBnar_Godhunt-week1_Fiction_Return-of-the-Jedi.pdf
Textual submission

sorry, forgot to do this so rushed for participation mostly I think

Placement
No placement
Member
High Councillor Masahiro Haku
Textual submission

Alexandyr hadn't been in Dajorra during the last incident with the locals and relied on secondhand reports and data entries from after the fact for any knowledge of what to expect. His eyes darted between the crew members around him, several of whom he only had passing memories of. Only Ruka and his initiate, Sivall, were familiar to him. Already uncomfortable after the events at Sundari station and immediately fielded to an operation after his arrival on Selen and debriefed with the Proconsul, the man shifted in his seat as he looked his initiate over. At least one of them seemed in their element, alive and thriving after the gutters of Coruscant.

"Tekpantli in view, beginning descent and joining formation." The pilot called out across the ship intercom.

The Proconsul righted himself and looked through those assembled in the craft, many with a more storied presence in The Clan than Alexandyr. Certainly, most were more worthy of being a Proconsul's protection detail than himself, Alex thought as he turned his gaze to Sivall. The Mirialan paced between them, which bothered Alexandyr, but his grip on his brow made it all the worse. A gnawing headache began to grow at the edges of Alex's perception as he watched Ruka move towards the cockpit; waves of unease grew as he heard the man shout something incoherent before he felt a sharp jerk as the vessel began to nosedive. His emerald eyes turned towards Sivall as he heard a scream erupt from the back of the ship and the small Chiss woman's arm outstretched toward him before everything went dark as he readied for impact.

He didn't want to die, not like this. He still felt shackled to a past he couldn't outrun.

The scent of sun-scorched earth and iron burnt the Jedi's lungs and shot him out of a dead slumber. An unending sun and the tropical rains of Kowak surrounded him, and an iron cage confined him. A long-forgotten sense of panic drenched him, and he began to scramble. He searched for his lightsabers, comms, or any affiliation to The Brotherhood or Collegium, anything to bargain his way out of the cage. It was then he realized he was alone, naked, and left to market in the high heat of the day. Emerald eyes turned wide, shifted side to side, and she shook the bars.

"No! No, no. I can't be here. I left everyone on Selen! We got shot out of the sky over Tekpantli! I need to find my people. I can't be back here; this isn't real! You aren't real!" He refused to believe, shouting at the dream that enveloped him, denying his return to slavery.

Patrons in the market laughed at his futile attempts to free himself and remarked at his calls for freedom. His mind slowly slipped from him, and his eyes watered as he felt their eyes size him up. Every scar, imperfection, and wrinkle was exposed to the world. Manacled hands grabbed the door to his cage.

Anger welled within him, and he seized violently upon the hinges. The cage pitched and turned as he raged against his captors. The glint of his anger grew, but his frustrations were worthless. With each attempt to call on The Force, he felt nothing. The doors wouldn't budge when Pushed; no Lightning would burst from his fingers at his captors.

A prod passed between the bars of his cage; the voltage against his bare skin and the iron bars floored him.

Groggy eyes eased awake, cast around an unsure locale, and met those of another man who smirked before they walked away. The man, a pale Zabrak, leaned on the far wall of the cave Alexandyr now found himself inside and chuckled.

"Think you're some kinda Jedi, do you? Well? Come on then! You've been raising such a ruckus and making yourself unsellable on the block you've been sent to me to fix your attitude." The Zabrak remarked. "Show me what you've got. A real Jedi would have been able to push out of that cage or cut his way out, like that ass we had a few years back. Broke through our defences, freed a bunch of slaves, and got himself killed, but managed to set some kid free. Oh, wait! You got left behind when that happened. Did you finally lose your marbles? Get fried in the sun? Eat some bad mushrooms?"

Alex choked, his eyes locked on the Zabrak's as he clenched his fist and tried to summon a spark, something to kill the man and find his freedom, anything to return to the life his saviour had given him.

The Force didn't answer his call.

"Was... Was it all a dream? What do I have to do to escape this nightmare?" The Jedi questioned as he looked into his palms.

The Zabrak smirked as he approached Alexandyr and beat him across the face with the prod. Then pushed the electric edge into his back over and over again until the man collapsed.

"There's nothing you can do. This isn't some nightmare, this is your nightmarish life. You'll be sold, again, and then when that owner tires of you, you'll be sold again for even less, because, unlike droids, you don't just get repaired. You get old." The Zabrak taunted as he threw down a simple brown bag filled with some kind of food and left the cell.

"But for some reason, the masters want to keep you around to sell. I guess they like seeing you squirm."

Alex sighed and crawled naked through the cave to the food. Tears streamed down his face. Had it all been a dream? The Brotherhood? Arcona? The other slaves he had ventured out and found help for through the years? Were they all delusions he had made in his mind, a disassociation to keep his sanity and he survived the years of his own slavery? As he reached the brown bag he collapsed and wrapped himself around it, sobbing.

As he whimpered over his meal; a shout in the hallways reached his ears. The sounds of mechanical stress, alarms screaming, and a woman shouting.

"ALEXANDYR!" She shouted.

An image of a young Chiss woman floated through his mind, draped in a shirt much too large for her as she smiled over the first meal she had in days.

The thought pushed Alex to lift his head from the dirty floor of his cell.

The memories of the woman pushed through his mind, like a frigid torrent. Their meeting on the streets of Coruscant. The reintroduction on Sundari Station, and her surprise appearance at his apartment, when he jammed his thumb in the doorway. His eyes gazed at his hands again and found the familiar scar before they turned up to find the Zabrak, now a hazy Selenian face.

The rushing water in his lungs and chest was not a metaphorical presence, but literal. His eyes darted open and his body flailed against the cold water and the grip of another, he saw Sivall through the fog of his tear-streaked eyes and shoved himself free before he turned to see the Proconsul.

"What happened? Where...?" Was all Alex managed before he slumped to his knees, utterly exhausted.

"I felt it first, saw... Things." The Sith answered as he grabbed the lunk by his shoulder and drug him out of the tide and tossed him into the dry sands by the Chiss woman.

"Get yourself together. I'm going to guess whatever we saw is what made you blow the rear hatch open and vent us and the others into the shallows." The Proconsul chided, leaving Alex feeling even more vulnerable.

Had he unintentionally hurt anyone? What had gotten into his mind? Who knew his darkest secrets?

Placement
No placement
Member
Adept Mune Cinteroph
File submission
All An Elaborate Ruse.pdf
Placement
No placement