First Reply A new acquaintance

[Cora]

While Cora enjoyed solitude, she also enjoyed the nightlife that Mos Espa had to offer. This was her favourite spot to meet clients and contacts, and she had to admit that she enjoyed watching drunken fights break out when newcomers found themselves sitting in a regular’s booth. She didn’t have to worry about that happening to her, though. Everyone knew this was her booth. And something about the large scar over her eye deterred anyone from bothering her unless it was for business, or the server bringing her drinks.

With one arm hung over the back of the booth seat and the other elbow rested on the table as she twirled a few credits in her fingers, she watched the other patrons come and go. She was waiting for someone. One of her contacts arranged the meeting, so she didn’t know who to expect. It was always frustrating to receive no information about the new contacts, especially when they were always told who she was. Or at least, they were told how to identify her. But she never knew what to look out for.

She was hopeful that this new contact would have the item she was after, and not just information about it. But that was information her current contact couldn’t be honest about either. The item was… sentimental. She hated the thought that it was in someone else’s possession. If only it hadn’t been stolen from her in the first place. Her fist tightened into a ball around the credits she had been twirling as she thought about the incident.

Cora closed her one good eye and the images replayed in her mind. Their blades danced with them on the hills. Blow for blow, the pairs timing flawless as they duelled. When practicing their lightsaber forms their bond was at its strongest. Master and padawan moved as one unit. As they duelled, her focus drifted. An error she didn’t normally make. She stepped one step too far to the left. Then she swung her saber. A mistake her master would pay for with their life.

She shook herself out of the memory, her body stiff with rage. Then she took a deep breath, opened her eye again, relaxed her body and started twirling the credits in her hand again. As her gaze returned to watch the patrons up at the bar, she felt a shift in the force. From amongst the buzzing crowd, a figure approached her booth. The stranger took a seat opposite Cora at her booth without saying a word. She met their gaze and raised a brow. After a moment of silence, she leaned forward clasping both hands together with her elbows on the table, then set her chin atop her hands.

“So… You got the item?”

 

[Laphisto]

Laphisto lowered himself into the seat opposite Cora , the booth creaking faintly beneath the weight of his armored frame. Without a word at first, he set a small wooden box on the table between them, the sound of its weight against the durasteel surface drawing her attention. With one clawed hand, he slid it toward her, his amber gaze steady and unflinching.

"It wasn't an easy thing to track down," he said at last, his tone carrying that quiet gravitas that always seemed to follow him. Laphisto often took on mercenary work through the Order sometimes assigning the jobs to the new bloods as grueling training exercises, other times handling them personally when the stakes demanded it. This had been one of the latter. It wasn't every day they were contracted to retrieve a Jedi weapon, and certainly not one with such a story attached to it.

As he leaned back, his arms crossed firmly over his chest, the cantina's hazy lamplight caught the ridges of his scaled features. The towering Kiev'arians presence filled the booth, not just in stature but in spirit. Force energy bled from him in slow, inevitable waves, a mist rolling from his form as though the very air bent to his being.

A faint shimmer rippled across Laphisto's eyes, a flash of teal cutting through the dim cantina light as he let his Force sight take hold. The mundane haze of smoke, sweat, and spilled drink faded into the background, replaced by the subtle threads of energy that wove through all things. He turned that sight toward the woman before him, peeling back layers of flesh and form to glimpse the pulse of the Force within her.

Instinct guided him as it always did gentle, probing pressure pressing against her presence, testing its shape, its texture, its color. He brushed along the contours of her alignment, seeking whether she leaned toward the burn of crimson fury, the calm blue of discipline, or the shifting neutrality of grey. What he found, he would keep to himself for now, though the faint furrow of his brow betrayed his curiosity.

"I suppose you're not one to ask many questions about how a weapon like this is procured," he rumbled, his voice low but edged with wry certainty. The wooden box between them seemed heavier now, its contents carrying far more than physical weight. His claws tapped lightly against the table as his gaze never wavered from hers. "Something of this caliber…" he let the thought linger, hanging between them like smoke, "…has to mean something to you, I gather?" there was a story here. and he was quite curious. it couldnt be hers. a force user would simply just make a new one. so this belonged to some one they cared about he was certain of that.

 

[Cora]

Laphisto 's large figure towered over her even as they sat. She hadn’t encountered his species before, but she expected no less from her contact than to surprise her with such an interesting and unfamiliar creature. At least he had the item. As he set the box on the table and settled into the seat, she felt something probing at the edges of her mind. Something she couldn’t quite explain. So he was a force user, too. That would explain how he was able to win back the saber. She assumed he had acquired it by killing the previous handler. Her emotions were mixed. On one hand, she was elated that her adversary was no longer alive, but on the other… She wished she was the one who’d done it.

The armoured dragon-man studied her closely and queried her connection to the item. It made her uneasy, she didn’t like answering questions more than she didn’t like asking them. Without saying another word, she reached for the box and opened the lid ajar to take a peak and confirm this was in fact the item she was searching for. As she spied the familiar hilt of her master’s lightsaber, her eye lit up and a warmth washed over her. She set the lid back, then motioned to the barkeep to bring the pair a drink each. After all, she had to show her gratitude to the being one way or another.

Cora remained silent a while longer, considering whether to enlighten the man with a response or to simply hand over the credits and leave it at that. If he’s asking for a story maybe she could share one and get a discount on his services. Would he know whether it was truthful if she lied? The server arrived at the table with the drinks and set one in front of each of them. Cora lifted her glass above the centre of the table, nodded at the being across from her, then took a sip of the concoction.

Setting the glass back on the table, she finally broke the silence. “It belonged to a good friend.” Her eye flicked from the box to her hands as she curled her fingers into a tight fist. She tried to contain her emotion, but her voice quivered as she spoke. Damn it. Now she knew he’d pry for more of the story. Cora bit her tongue for a moment as she choked back the lump she felt forming in her throat. Unwilling to reveal more than she needed in order to satisfy the being’s curiosity, she offered one more piece of information, her eye remaining fixated on her own hands. “They fell at my hand.”

 

[Laphisto]

So either a padawan who had killed their master, or a master who had killed their padawan. It was a story as old as the Jedi themselves—one Laphisto had seen repeat in endless variations across centuries of conflict. As the teal sheen faded from his gaze and normal sight returned, a sharp sting clawed at his vision. He winced, pressing a clawed hand briefly to the corners of his eyes. The strain never truly left him.

The green eye bore a golden ring at its edge, the blue one framed with a faint red circle. And at the very fringes of both, etched into the whites, were the telltale scars of carbonite poisoninga mark of years stolen, of long entombment in frozen silence.

A low rumble worked its way from his throat as he gave a slow shake of his head. "Based on your tone," he said at last, his gravelled voice steady but not unkind, "it was an accident. A tragedy that has echoed throughout galactic history more times than I can count." His expression tightened into a faint frown, more understanding than judgment. It did not make her burden any lighter he knew that. But it was his way of offering a fragile branch of sympathy

Leaning slightly to his right, Laphisto reached toward a side pouch worked into the plating of his armor. For a moment the motion revealed the broad, heavy hilt of his Broad Saber, mag-locked securely to his hip, before he shifted back into place. In his hand was no weapon, however, but a small data chip. He set it down on the table with a muted click, then pushed it across the surface toward her with deliberate ease.

Taking up the drink she had ordered for him, he lifted the glass in a small, acknowledging gesture before taking a long sip. The faint clink of his clawed fingers against the glass was almost lost in the background hum of the cantina. When his eyes returned to hers, the weight of them pressed as firmly as any words.

"Someone with your talents," he rumbled, his tone carrying a mixture of appraisal and challenge, "shouldn't have their skills squandered in a place like this." His gaze swept briefly across the noisy crowd of Mos Espa's patrons drunkards, smugglers, gamblers, all blurring together in the dim haze before settling back on her. "There are better uses… better purposes. If you know where to look."

The implication hung between them like smoke, heavy and deliberate, daring her to decide whether to take the comment as an offer, a warning, or simply an observation from a being who had seen too many waste their potential.

Cora

 

[Cora]

If you know where to look. The words felt sharp, although maybe it was unintentional. Her eye narrowed as she shot a glare toward the being. It seemed like he didn’t notice her expression. Not one for subtlety, then? She lingered on that thought briefly, then considered the data chip he’d presented her. Her right hand subconsciously lifted to her chin. The air felt heavy as she pondered. What did this gesture mean? A challenge? Her eye flashed and the corner of her lip twitched with a smirk.

Cora reached for the data chip, then stopped herself half-way, hesitant to display even a semblance of trust toward the stranger. Her hand hovering over the space between them, she looked up at the being across from her once more. “What makes you think I don’t know where to look?” She hissed at him. It was an attempt to assert aggression, but the long delay between his words and hers betrayed her.

She lifted her chin, leant back in her seat and folded her arms across her chest. Defiance. “I don’t even know who you are.” Her hand waved him off dismissively, as she threw a handful of credits his way. Payment for the item he’d retrieved for her. Then she turned her head to monitor the crowd again.

When he didn’t move from the table, she let out a sigh. It was a heavier sigh than she’d intended to release. They were locked in a game of wit and she was losing. The silence between the two lingered before she finally erupted. “Fine. Enlighten me.” Her brow twitched as she returned her piercing gaze to the man. She snatched up the data chip and turned it over in her hand. It was cool to the touch. Then she let it dance between her fingers, the same way she’d manipulated the credits she was holding earlier.

Laphisto

 

[Laphisto]

Laphisto gave a low chuckle, the sound rumbling deep in his chest like distant thunder. A faint smile tugged at the corners of his scaled features, betraying a flicker of satisfaction that he had managed to hold her attention. Slowly, deliberately, he extended a taloned hand across the table. The gesture was firm but not hostile, each movement carrying the weight of someone long accustomed to command.

"Laphisto Gix," he said at last, his voice gravelled, each syllable underscored by a subtle growl. "High Commander of the Lilaste Order… and Chief Military Executive of the Diarchy."The names alone carried a weight of their own, rippling through the haze of cantina noise. He let them linger between them before drawing his hand back. Leaning into the booth, the armored Kiev'arian settled into the seat with the quiet confidence of a mountain at rest, his amber-green gaze never wavering from her face.

"There are places in this galaxy where Force-users are needed," he continued, his tone deepening, carrying the edge of conviction rather than mere observation. His eyes flickered faintly, teal light flashing for the briefest moment before dimming again. "A storm is coming to this galaxy inevitable, unstoppable. And when it breaks, I hope to see the false dichotomy of Jedi and Sith… their hollow dogma and endless war… finally destroyed." The words rolled from him like stone grinding against stone, heavy and deliberate, leaving the space between them charged with meaning.

Laphisto exhaled through his nostrils, a small huff accompanied by the faint rumble that always seemed to coil in his chest. He gave a slow shake of his head, more in thought than in denial, before speaking again. "The pay is more than enough," he said, his gravelled tone steady, deliberate. "Access to technology, free housing, training to sharpen your gifts… or, if you believe yourself capable, the chance to become the one who teaches."

With a casual wave of his clawed hand, he signaled a bartender. The credits she had thrown his way were swept up without hesitation, exchanged for a platter of assorted meats. When the order was placed, his gaze shifted back to her, eyes narrowing slightly, voice lowering as though every word was meant to cut through the cantina's haze and strike only her.

"It's an offer," he continued, talons drumming once against the table before stilling. "Call it employment. Call it redemption. Call it whatever it is you're chasing out here in the shadows." He gave a small shrug then, one broad hand rising to scratch beneath his chin. The movement carried an unintended weight; the edge of his armored elbow knocked against his breastplate, the clang ringing out with a hollow, metallic echo. The sound lingered, unsettling in its resonance, and even made his lone ear twitch irritably before he stilled again. His eyes locked on hers, voice dropping into something quieteryet heavier, like the calm before thunder. "The question is, you willing to put your skills to proper use?"

Cora

 

[Cora]

“Laphisto, huh.” She raised her brow at the being. The name seemed to ring a bell, but she couldn't quite place where she’d heard it before. It must have been a name whispered through the dark back alleys of the underworld, muttered by those on the run from his Order. She decided it was in her best interest to stay on his good side, at least for now.

She shuffled forward in her seat at the mention of the destruction of the Jedi and Sith. While her allegiance lay with neither one, she’d spent some time on both sides. Her fall from the Jedi order was her undoing, and her dip into the darkness something she was still clawing her way back from.

Cora tightened her lips. She didn’t want Laphisto to read her. For Cora, it was never about the pay. A chance for redemption or revenge was something she could never pass up. Although she wasn’t sure which path she would follow. Quietly, she contemplated his offer. Filtering through scenarios in her head. His final words sent a shiver down her spine.

She considered the rowdy crowd at the cantina. The lost souls scavenging for the tiniest of riches. None of whom she shared a shred of empathy for. Their pasts so less complicated than hers, so less destructive. She didn’t belong here. Then she looked back at Laphisto. His imposing figure felt more threatening with every second she resisted. She felt so small.

“Who do you need me to kill?” Her answer in the form of a question, she refused to give him the courtesy of a more polite acceptance. It was spoken in a hushed tone as she leant in even closer to him. Cora’s eye wide as she met his with a fierce gaze. Maybe she came off a little too eager.

Laphisto

 

[Laphisto]

As the platter was set down before him, Laphisto reached for his glass and took another long sip, the motion accompanied by a low, satisfied rumble that rolled from his throat. A brow arched as though amused by her eagerness, and a small chuckle slipped past his lips before he set the glass aside.

Without hesitation, he reached for the meal. His taloned fingers moved with practiced ease, serving as both knife and fork one claw cutting cleanly through the strips of meat, the other spearing a slice before lifting it to his mouth. The motion was casual, unbothered, yet carried a faint edge of menace simply by virtue of his nature.

Between bites, his gravelled voice carried across the table, low but firm, with a growl that clung to every word."The Lilaste Order is more disciplined than simple killers, lass," he said, speaking as though correcting a dangerous misconception. "We have structure. We have order. True order not the hollow scrap any imperialistic state spits at its people, nor the false sense of purpose the Galactic Alliance and their Jedi preach."

His gaze lifted from the meal then, hetrochromatic eyes narrowing as he studied her features in the dim cantina light. The way she sat, the tension in her shoulders, the sharp defiance in her lone eye he took it all in with the scrutiny of a commander weighing the worth of a soldier.

"My organization rivals the skill and expertise of the Mandalorians," Laphisto said, his voice carrying the same certainty as a blade drawn from its sheath. "But we lack the weakness of their fractured clans and endless divisions." A faint frown tugged at his scaled features, and his right shoulder rolled as though something sat heavier on him than the armor he wore. The burnished sigil of Clan Ordo etched into his plate caught the cantina light, a reminder of oaths sworn long ago. For a moment, it seemed to weigh more than beskar ever could. With a low huff, he brushed the thought aside, the rumble in his throat signaling finality.

"You have two routes of employment," he continued, the words deliberate and heavy. One claw tapped the tabletop in rhythm with his explanation, as though each choice were being nailed into place. "Independent mercenary work, if you prefer freedom. That means finding your own housing, taking jobs as they come, and relying only on your wits and your blade. Contracts, credits, and little else."

His talons curled, then relaxed, as he shifted to the other path. "Or… full enrollment. That grants you the mantle of membership. You'll have free room and board. Steady pay. Access to our forges, our archives, our training halls. And, more importantly the knowledge that on every mission, there will be eight other guns watching your back. Loyal. Unyielding. Bound by more than credits."Laphisto leaned back slightly, the booth creaking under his weight, and let the silence stretch. His words hung in the air like a challenge, daring her to measure herself against them.

Laphisto gave a low, amused chuckle and rapped his knuckles against the broad plate of his chest, the sound echoing faintly in the din of the cantina. Then, with deliberate care, he reached behind him and unhooked the long rifle slung across his back. The heavy weapon came free with a metallic rasp, its mass settling easily into his claws as though it weighed nothing at all.

He laid the rifle across the table between them, the polished barrel catching the lanternlight. "And," he rumbled, voice carrying the faint pride of a seasoned soldier, "full access to the new generation of toys the Order has to offer."

The weapon was an LO-20D. To the untrained eye, it might've looked archaic little more than a slugthrower, primitive when compared to the sleek blasters and plasma casters common across the galaxy. Yet as it rested there, its brutal simplicity radiated menace. Laphisto tilted the weapon slightly, letting her take in the hardened plating of its frame, the subtle engineering along the magazine feed, the faint grooves that marked it as purpose-built for war.

"Crude?" he admitted with a faint smirk, talon tapping the weapon's stock. "Perhaps. But this galaxy has grown fat and lazy, relying on energy shields and countermeasures. Few armies are prepared for metal slugs tearing through their armor no warning glow, no deflection. Just raw kinetic devastation. More primitive, yes. But that makes it all the deadlier. A weapon no Jedi, no Sith, no soldier in their durasteel shell expects."
To prove his point, Laphisto pulled the charging handle back in one smooth motion. The weapon barked a metallic clack as a round spat free from the chamber. With predatory precision, his clawed hand snapped up and caught the shell mid-air before it could tumble to the floor. He turned it once in his palm, then set it down between them with a sharp clink.

The slug was unlike any otherolive green in color, a dark matte that seemed to swallow light. Its shade mirrored the muted tones of his own armor, subtle but undeniable."The Force can bend much, but not this." The slug sat there, mute and immovable, a simple weight in the middle of the table.

The slug sat there, mute and immovable, a simple weight in the middle of the table. If she tried to call on the Force to touch it, she would feel that familiar current slip and scatter, like water against glass. The power would not take hold; it would only recoil, leaving the round sitting stubborn and inert as if it belonged to another world entirely. his lone ear twitching slightly as he watched her. "Our Order makes weapons that remind even Force users they're not untouchable."

Cora

 

[Cora]

Cora watched as Laphisto carved up his meats. She wondered if his talons could rip through her own flesh with such ease. She gulped. The opportunities laid before her, clearly one a better choice than the other. A place to call home would be nice. But it sounded too good to be true.

Besides, she thought, after what I’ve done, I don’t think I’m cut out to be part of a team. The silence hung in the air. I can’t trust anyone, how could anyone else trust me? Not wanting to show her inner turmoil to the creature, she shifted back into a more relaxed posture, one arm resting on the table between them.

Then he laid the weapon down. A glint flashed in her eye. While she’d never actually used so much as a blaster before, preferring her saber and close quarters combat, that rifle was impressive. An opportunity to harness such power piqued her interest.

Cora looked between the rifle and its owner, seeking permission to examine it closer. When he didn’t show any sign of refusal, she reached her hand toward the weapon. She traced a line down the length of the gun, feeling the cool durasteel with her fingertips. It felt like it was calling to her.

Then she picked up the metal slug. Her face was riddled with confusion. This ordnance was like nothing she had ever seen before. It was smaller than she had expected it to be with his description of its power. Cool to the touch, it fit nicely in her hand. Well balanced and aerodynamic, the perfect tool for utter destruction. She twirled it in her fingers a few times before returning it to its place on the table.

She pulled her hand back to herself and looked up into Laphisto’s duel-coloured eyes. A small smile crept across her pale face. Acceptance. It was a bit of a bluff, but she hoped he wouldn’t notice. While she did want to join, she was still conflicted by her own interests.

Then she considered the reason the two had met here at this cantina that day. Her master’s lightsaber. How had he acquired it? He had said it wasn’t easy to track down, but here he was, in this meeting with her, returning the lightsaber and offering her a job. The weapon? Now she was certain the opponent who had bested her to win the blade was indeed dead.

Cora reached for the box again, this time opening it all the way to reveal the true beauty of the golden hilt. Its design matched that of her own. She scooped it out of the box with both hands, as if it were a delicate relic that could crumble in the wind. It felt heavy to her. Not in weight, but in the connection she had with it.

Then she pulled out her own lightsaber and compared the two side-by-side. Something about Cora’s one looked just as damaged as she was, even though the hilt was in pristine condition. After all, she took great pride in the care of her lightsaber. It was the last possession she had that connected her to her past self.

Something in her demeanour changed. Like she started to peel back the walls she’d put up to let him see inside a little. “I haven’t felt at home since…” She trailed off. A long pause hung between them. Her words caught on an unseen barrier. It was difficult for her to trust. She bit her tongue. A hefty sigh escaped her lips. “I…” A pause. She worried she would regret her next words, but she let them flow anyway. “I accept.”


Laphisto

 

[Laphisto]

Laphisto's dual-colored eyes lingered on her as her final words left her lips. The faintest smile curved across his muzzle, followed by a low, rumbling chuckle that vibrated in his chest. It wasn't the laugh of a man who had won a wager, nor of someone who had outmaneuvered an opponentit was the quiet satisfaction of one who had seen a spark of choice ignite where before there had only been hesitation.

With a slow, deliberate motion, he pushed himself upright from the booth. His armor shifted with a muted groan, a grunt escaping him as he straightened to his full height. The cantina's murmur seemed to dim around them as he adjusted his stance, towering over the table. If she moved to return the rifle, his clawed hand rose with a small, halting gesture. "Keep it, it a welcome gift. It'll serve you better in the days ahead than gathering dust on my back."

His gaze flicked toward the small chip she now held, then back to her face. "You already know what's on that. Clearance codes. Coordinates for Bastion, and docking clearance for Aurora Station. If you've a ship of your own, the codes will see you through. If not…" his ear twitched slightly as he gestured toward the door, "wheels up in ten. Bay D-09. You can ride with me." He adjusted the strap across his shoulder, the absence of the rifle notable, then gave a small huff through his nostrils. "Take care of whatever ghosts you've got haunting you here. I'll see you in the hangar."

Without further ceremony, he turned with the same controlled weight he had carried since sitting down, his silhouette cutting through the cantina's haze as though the room itself made way for him.Turning from the girl, Laphisto shifted his bulk with deliberate steadiness, his heavy frame casting long shadows in the dim cantina light. His tail swept once through the smoky air, a subtle punctuation to his departure. He did not look backthere was no need. Her choice had been made, and that was enough.

A low rumble lingered in his chest, half a growl, half a sigh. He was glad she had accepted the offer. In truth, it was never just about filling the ranks. It was about the principle. Everyone in this galaxy deserved a second chance, no matter the blood on their hands or the weight of their past. He had been given his once dragged from the cold silence of carbonite into a future he had never imagined and he would see to it that others were afforded the same chance at redemption.

His clawed hand brushed across the edge of his chestplate as he pushed through the cantina doors, the faint ring of metal echoing with each step. For all the ghosts that haunted him, for all the scars of ages past, Laphisto carried his purpose like a banner: to ensure that no soul willing to rise from the ashes would be denied the chance to do so.

Cora

 

[Cora]

Cora’s eye followed Laphisto as he made his way through the crowd to the exit of the cantina. His large frame barely fit through the doors. Once he was out of sight she exhaled and leant back in her seat, observing the plethora of items left behind on the table. She tapped her fingers on the table, a motion that informed the keen-eyed barkeep that she was finished with her business and needed a drink.

A server came rushing over with a glass of deep amber liquid and set it on the table in front of her. Cora gave the server a polite nod, then brought the glass to her lips. She held it there for a moment as she considered the deal she’d just made, before finally downing the drink in one go then slamming the glass down on the table.

Cora carefully collected all the items on the table. The two sabers she clasped to her belt, the data chip and weapon slug she tucked neatly in a pouch. Then she picked up the rifle. It was light, not much heavier than the two lightsabers in her possession. She turned it over in her arms, inspecting it closely. It felt good in her hands.

As she got out of her seat and approached the bar, her new rifle at her side, she could feel the eyes of all the regulars watching her closely. It was unnerving, but not unexpected. Her lightsabers were discrete enough that not many patrons knew she was armed at all times, but this new weapon was something she couldn’t conceal. Cora settled her tab at the bar, giving the keep a few extra credits. “Insurance.”

She slung the rifle over her shoulder as she headed out the cantina doors. After all, she wasn’t accustomed to carrying such a weapon and had no holster for it, something she hoped she could acquire within the Order she’d just joined. Making her way toward the hanger, her thoughts turned dark again. What if this is a mistake? Still worried if she could really trust Laphisto and his Lilaste Order.

Cora rounded the corner into the hangar and saw the recognisable imposing figure of Laphisto over in bay D-09, just across from the bay her own vessel was held in. She gave him an awkward wave as she slunk into her ship. It was much smaller than his, and probably less equipped. But it was home. Of course, that was set to change with her newfound membership of the Order, but for the journey there she needed the comfort of the familiar. She powered up her ship and watched as Laphisto’s shuttle lifted out of the hangar before she followed suit.

As she followed the shuttle toward the huge battlecruiser, her emotions were all over the place; anxiety mixed with joy laced with her usual sense of remorse. A second chance was never something she thought would come her way, yet here it was offered to her by a new acquaintance. It wasn’t something she had to seek out, instead it found her. Maybe with this new start she could learn to feel safe again, to feel like part of a team again, to feel like she mattered.

Cora took one last look around her ship as she drew in a deep breath, then she opened the airlock and stepped foot for the first time into her new life with the Order.