Down in the Dark (Mir)

[Faily]

The entrance to the site of the trial looked innocuous enough. The front seemed to be the entrance to a ruined temple, nothing immediately marking it as any different from the other ruined temples on the planet. But on second glance, the shadows within the entrance was just a little bit darker. The air was just a little bit colder. Even the smell, the taste of it was just slightly off. And the longer one studied any of these things, the more they would cause a creeping sense of dread. Of fear.

At the entrance stood Mir, with the Jedi Knight Farissa by his side. She gave the feline student a slow but reassuring blink.

[Mir]

"I just walk in, right?" Mir asked Farissa. "And that's it?"

[Farissa Kho]

She chuckled softly. "Sounds pretty easy, yeah? Well, you'll see... there's more to it than meets the eye."

[Mir]

Somewhere in alternative Universe Optimus Prime sneezed.

"Well. I guess I'll go then. The dark never bothered me anyway." Mir wrapped his cloak firmly around his form and stepped unto the darkness.

[Faily]

The dark might never have bothered him, but the cold might. Especially when it seem to penetrate his clothes, fur, and flesh, and draw into his very essence. Even the dark seemed darker than it usually had been for him.

A foul smell poked at his sensitive nose and whiskers further in.

[Mir]

Gah. Did someone die here. Mir wrapped his cloak even more tightly around himself and dug out his scanner goggles, plopping them over his nose. Dark ain't got nothing on me... he mused as he meandered deeper into the darkness.

[Faily]

It did seem to have the smell of something... dying?

Once the goggles went over his eyes, he could suddenly see everything clearly. He was back on Doloran. And the stench of death was at his feet; its source a fat man dressed in plain clothing, bleeding out, and feebly holding up an arm to ward off Mir.

[Mir]

Mir tilted his head to the side as he watched the man. "Who are you?" he asked, keeping distance himself as well.

[Faily]

He whimpered in fear. "P-please don't kill me..." he moaned in pain.

[Mir]

"Who are you!" Mir insisted, keeping his distance.

[Faily]

The man flinched. "Ugh... Ogh..." he strained to speak over his pain. "Ozen. Please... I don't want to die..." he begged.

In the corner of his eye, Mir could catch a brief glimpse of his own reflection in the surface of a large piece of metal scrap. His eyes underneath the goggles flickered red, and he was much bigger and bulkier than before. His snout was stained with blood, old and new, and his whiskers were as white as bone. His fur was matted and ugly, and the smell of death... it came from him.

It was like seeing Smert Bonewhisker come to life.

[Mir]

"Who did this to you?" He shuffled closer to the man until the reflection caught his attention. His ears twitched as he shied away from the reflection. "That is not me!" Mir insisted. "I didn't do anything."

[Faily]

Ozen spat some blood on the ground. "Y... you did. You killed everyone." His voice was shaking. "You started with... with all the Ogon-folks, and then... then that wasn't enough for you. I-I'm not like them... I... I just did what they said. P-please, I have a family."

[Mir]

"I didn't kill anyone Mir insisted. Not you, not anyone." Mir shook his head, extending his paw to show that his paws were clean. "See." He beckoned the wounded man.

[Faily]

His paws were filthy, from old blood that had caked and dried in the fur between each digit. The man tried to flinch away from them but seeing as he was on the ground, there was nowhere left to go.

"Please, just stop! When will you stop killing everyone on Doloran?" he cried.

[Mir]

"I have not killed anyone. How can I stop?" Mir mewled. "I am not even a jedi. I haven't been to Doloran since I left there." Mir blinked. "Uh.. in many years."

[Faily]

"You came back... with a vengeance..." he moaned.

The reflection seemed to change again, showing memories of time gone by. Mir passing his trials and becoming a Jedi, but there were a few disagreements to it from the masters, though in the end those who wanted to give Mir a chance won out. And he kept his promise of coming back to Doloran.

At first... he began to help slaves flee off-world. It was slow. It wasn't very effective. One day someone sold out to the OTC about the operation and Mir nearly lost his life. He could feel the scars that left on him; both physical and mental.

Then it started with the OTC. Those who worked for them. Everyone. And then... those who had betrayed him and the others. It was such a slippery slope, to find the next one who had done something against him or the other slaves somehow. And he was so powerful, what could they do against him?

[Mir]

"Kriff that. I'm on Auratera nomming fishes. Good fishies." he insisted.

Mir watched the scene unfold. It was as if powers that be were trying to show him something. Noting what Eir had told him about Force guiding her, Mir tilted his head and observed - immediately starting to make a plan that would make sure he would not be betrayed. He would have to act more slowly - more carefully. Bring friends with him. Smuggle people out, the sick and the weak first. While smuggling arms to the slaves. That way he wouldn't be killing anyone. Well, at least he wouldn't be drenched in blood.

[Faily]

Yes, the weapons. It was as if the reflection read his mind, and it shifted along with his thoughts.

The weapons in the hands of the slaves gave them the power to break their chains, and fight their oppressors. Doloran became a battleground. In the start, it seemed to simple... the slaves clad in white, clashing against the slavers in black. But like with all colors clashing against eachother so, it soon became a muddied grey. Some of the slaves established themselves as leaders, fighting amongst eachother over who should be king of the trash-hill. And from there the violence kept feeding itself. No one would be safe anymore.

And they all looked to Mir as the one who brought Death to Doloran. Bonewhisker, they all whispered, would come in the night and slit the throats of traitors and wicked.

[Mir]

Mir snout-pawed. So much for that plan. He re-adjusted back to just smuggling people to safety, old and weak first. Sneaking around, setting people free. Having few friends, not slaves but jedi he could trust on help him around. Maybe he could have a consular with him to talk the slavers over to let some people go, little by little.