Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private Beneath a Broken Order

Xian did not look back. She didn't slow, didn't tense, didn't give even the smallest outward sign that anything had shifted. If someone was watching them, the worst thing she could do was confirm they had been noticed, so she kept her pace steady, and her hands relaxed at her sides, attention forward while her thoughts snapped cleanly into place. His words were enough to tell her everything she needed.

One block back. Left side.

She mapped it quickly against the streets around them, the angles of the buildings, the routes ahead, the places someone could close distance or vanish if they chose. Nothing in her expression changed.

"Good catch," Xian said quietly, her tone light enough to pass for ordinary conversation, the kind exchanged between two people discussing nothing of consequence. There was no mockery in it, only acknowledgment.

She let a few steps pass before continuing, her voice low and even, the cadence unbroken. "Do you want to break away and check it out? If you cut across the next lane, you could circle behind them and see if they keep pace." Her eyes drifted briefly to a reflective pane in one of the darkened storefronts, using the glass to read the street behind them without turning her head.

"The other option is we keep walking like nothing's wrong and wait to see what they do," she went on, adjusting their path by a subtle degree, guiding them toward a narrower stretch where movement would be easier to read. "If they're cautious, they'll hang back. If they're impatient, they'll show themselves."

She let the possibilities settle between them for a moment before adding, quieter now, "Or I can check it out." That carried a different meaning entirely. She was smaller, quicker, and easier to lose in the streets if she slipped away for half a minute. Easier to underestimate, too.

Her gaze stayed forward, but the faintest shift touched the corner of her mouth, something not quite a smile, but close enough to suggest she was aware of the irony. "Depends whether you'd rather keep the Bothan," Xian said softly, "or keep eyes on whoever's behind us."

She left the choice with him, her stride never faltering.

Then, after another step, she offered her own conclusion with the same calm certainty she applied to everything else. "My vote is we keep moving for now. People following usually tell you more than people running."

Xuko Pagoi Xuko Pagoi
 
Not for the first time, Xuko admired Xian's calm and self-restraint. Someone less-experienced would have almost certainly turned to look immediately, thereby blowing the secret that they'd been seen. Xian, on the other hand, seemed unbothered to the casual eye; even if Xuko was starting to learn the signs that hinted that she was thinking quickly on the fly.

The Zabrak pondered the options she offered, musing over each for a couple of seconds before coming to a decision. Xian was the more likely of the two to be able to navigate stealthily, given her knowledge of the area. But there was also the problem that Xuko didn't know exactly where the Crucible was; without Xian to guide him there was a very real chance that he took a wrong turn.

The opposite was true as well, he realized. If he slipped away to investigate whomever was following them, there was no guarantee that he'd be able to find Xian again; not to mention that one captive was enough trouble. Two captives would only attract more attention, and attention was the last thing that Xuko was looking to attract at the moment.

So it was that Xuko ended up agreeing with Xian, if not for the same reasons. "Let us continue as we are" Xuko replied.

"How long until we reach the..." The three of them rounded a corner and the Crucible came into view- still some distance away, but unmistakable nonetheless. The sight was nothing short of impressive; it had been built as a monument to power and to control, and as a result the structure dominated the skyline.

Words momentarily deserted Xuko, and when he could speak the only words he could form were in his native Iridonian.

"Na'arrek ta'vak..."

Xian Xiao Xian Xiao
 
Xian glanced sideways at him when the unfamiliar words left his mouth, not enough to slow her pace, only enough to catch the tone beneath them. She didn't know the language, but she didn't need to; surprise had a shape she recognized instantly, and awe carried a different weight than fear. Whatever he had said, whatever memory or instinct had pulled it out of him, she understood the feeling even if she didn't understand the syllables.

Her eyes returned to the structure ahead.

The Crucible rose over the district like something carved from certainty itself, all vast planes of stone and metal reaching upward with the kind of confidence only old regimes ever dared to build with. Even changed, even stripped of the purpose it once served, it still carried the weight of being designed to impress, to intimidate, to remind everyone beneath it who had stood above them. Xian had hated it a little the first time she saw it, and admired it for exactly the same reason.

"I felt the same way," she said quietly, her voice steady as she adjusted their course toward a lower approach road that fed into the central plaza rather than the grand ceremonial avenues. Less spectacle. Less attention. Fewer eyes.

As they moved, her attention slid to a pane of mirrored glass along a neighboring building, using the reflection instead of turning her head. Two figures. Teenagers, by the look of them. Hanging back farther than before, trying too hard to seem casual while matching the route with the kind of uneven confidence that came from inexperience rather than intent.

She didn't react outwardly. She simply kept walking, letting the Bothan shuffle forward between them while the city moved around them in layered noise and fading light.

"They're still there," she said at last, her voice low enough for Xuko alone, as if she were commenting on the weather rather than the possibility of being followed. "Two now."

Her tone remained calm, almost conversational, as though she were pointing out a street vendor or a change in traffic flow.

"They think we haven't noticed."

A brief pause followed, not hesitation but calculation, her mind already mapping the narrowing streets ahead, the angles of approach, the places where shadows gathered too easily.

"That can be useful," she added, her gaze lifting again to the Crucible before returning to the path in front of them. "People who believe they're unseen tend to make predictable choices."

She let that settle for a moment, her stride never changing, her posture never tightening.

"Keep doing exactly what you're doing," she continued, her voice soft but certain. "Nervous people look back. Guilty people speed up. We'll do neither."

The corner of her mouth shifted, not quite a smile, more the ghost of one. It was the kind that appeared when she had already decided on a plan.

"If they're amateurs, they'll drift closer without realizing how close they've come. And when they do," she added, her tone warming with a quiet confidence that was almost reassuring, "I'll take care of them."

Not a threat. Not bravado.

Just a simple statement of fact.

"If they're not amateurs," she went on, "they'll hand us off to someone else, and that tells us even more."

She continued forward at the same measured pace, the Crucible looming larger with every step, her presence steady beside him as though nothing at all had changed — even though everything had.

Xuko Pagoi Xuko Pagoi
 
Xuko realized that his jaw had dropped as he'd taken in the Crucible, and hastily rearranged his features to a more neutral expression- the kind that seemed to come naturally to Xian. The Zabrak listened to her report and her insight, keeping a steady pace.

Xuko did his best to breathe out the tension he was feeling with each step they took. There were two reasons for this stress, he realized; one was that the closer they were to their destination, the more likely it became that whomever was trailing them revealed their hand. If a confrontation was to happen, it was going to happen soon. The worst thing would be to let his guard down

The second reason for his stress was likely the proximity of the Crucible itself. The structure dominated the skyline; its towering walls and formidable defenses standing as a challenge and a threat. It made him feel... small.

Frowning, Xuko directed his attention back to the present- to scanning their surroundings, to keeping an eye on their captive, and to remaining alert. Presumably they were still being trailed, and Xuko made a serious question sound as casual as he could; trying to mimic Xian's conversational tone so as not to throw off their observers.

"What do you intend to do?"

Xian Xiao Xian Xiao
 
Xian caught the edge of strain in his voice even beneath the casual tone he was trying to wear, and for a moment, her eyes shifted toward him before returning to the street ahead. He was doing well. Better than most would have in a place like this, but tension had a way of finding the seams no matter how carefully someone tried to hold themselves together.

She kept walking at the same measured pace, the Bothan shuffling between them, the looming presence of the Crucible growing larger with every block.

At his question, Xian gave a small shrug of one shoulder, the gesture easy and unhurried.

"If they're just a couple of teens like us," she said, her tone light enough to pass for idle conversation, "then I'm going to scare them away before they work up the courage to do anything foolish."

There was no malice in it, only practicality spoken with the same calm she applied to everything else.

Her gaze drifted briefly to a polished surface in a shuttered window, checking the reflections without turning her head, before settling forward again.

"And if they're a couple of members of these Red Ravens," she continued, her voice still steady and unbothered, "then I'm going to make them question their life decisions for the rest of the week."

From someone else, the words might have sounded harsh. From Xian, they landed almost lightly, delivered with the matter‑of‑fact certainty of someone who had already calculated the outcome.

She glanced sideways at him then, catching his eye for a moment. Her own were dark, clear, and unexpectedly warm despite the subject. "Don't worry," she added, a faint curve touching the corner of her mouth. "I'm not going to permanently hurt them." A beat of silence followed as she adjusted their course toward a narrower lane that fed closer to the Crucible's outer district.

"Probably." The dry humor flickered and vanished as quickly as it appeared, leaving him to wonder for half a step before she spoke again. "I'm kidding," Xian said quietly, though the softness in her tone didn't blunt the truth beneath it. "Mostly."

Her expression settled back into calm focus as she continued forward. "People like this usually rely on fear and numbers," she said, her voice low but certain. "And once they lose one, they tend to lose the other."

Xuko Pagoi Xuko Pagoi
 
Given her cool demeanor, Xuko wouldn't have been surprised if Xian had suggested killing the two people following them. However, he was relieved when she stated otherwise; her back-and-forth about the confrontation only confirming that this was action taken out of necessity and not pleasure. That was good- the last thing the two of them needed right now was to draw any more attention to themselves than they already had. If capturing a low-level informant drew observation, leaving bodies in their wake would surely provoke a much stronger response.

The Crucible loomed ever closer as Xuko stayed on the path set for them by Xian, noting that they were only a couple hundred meters from the entrance to the fortress, and also a place for Xian to break away from their trio and set up an ambush for their followers if she wanted. Xuko wasn't aware of any other hostile eyes, but that in itself was hard to gage against the backdrop of hostility that was the Crucible itself. And just because he wasn't aware of other Red Ravens didn't mean that they weren't out there.

"We are nearly there" Xuko said, glancing over to Xian. "What is your decision?"

Xian Xiao Xian Xiao
 
Xian didn't break stride when he spoke, though her attention shifted just enough to measure the distance ahead, the flow of people, the narrowing approach toward the Crucible's lower steps, and the way the structure's weight seemed to pull every eye toward it whether they meant to look or not.

"Keep going," she said quietly, her tone calm and certain. "Wait at the bottom of the stairs. I'll rejoin you there."

She gave the Bothan a single glance, and this time there was nothing soft in her expression, no warmth, no patience, only a steady, silent warning that settled between them and made words unnecessary. Then it was gone, replaced by a casual drift of attention toward a nearby shop window, the kind of shift that looked natural enough to avoid suspicion as she peeled away from Xuko and their captive with an unhurried ease.

She didn't look back. She didn't need to. The reflection in the glass told her everything.

Two of them, young, overeager, trying too hard to look like they weren't following anyone while matching pace just closely enough to give themselves away. Not professionals. Not disciplined. Just opportunistic thugs waiting for a distraction.

Xian let them pass, lingering a moment longer by the window as if considering something on display, then slipped into motion again, cutting through a narrow side space between buildings and using the broken angles of the street to loop behind them without ever crossing their line of sight. They never noticed. By the time they slowed near the turn toward the Crucible's approach, she was already there, tucked just out of view where shadow met stone, waiting.

It took only a second.

As they rounded the corner, still half-focused on where Xuko and the Bothan had gone, Xian stepped out behind them, close enough that her voice didn't need to rise.

"You're not very good at this."

Both of them jerked, one spinning too fast, the other stumbling as surprise crashed into confusion and then into the slow realization that they had lost control of the situation without ever understanding how. Xian didn't move toward them; she didn't have to. Her presence alone, steady and unbothered, did the work.

"Following people through crowded streets," she said, her tone almost conversational despite the unmistakable edge beneath it, "usually works better if they don't notice you."

One of them tried to speak, bluster, protest, something to salvage pride, but she cut him off before the words formed.

"Go home. Find something smaller to be bad at." A beat. "And don't follow us again." No threats. No violence. Just certainty.

They hesitated for a heartbeat, pride warring with sense, before sense finally won and they retreated, muttering under their breath as they disappeared back into the crowd. Xian watched long enough to be sure they kept going, then let out a quiet breath.

"…yeah," she murmured. "Definitely not Red Ravens."

With that, she turned and made her way back toward the Crucible, her pace easy, expression neutral again by the time she stepped into view near the base of the stairs where Xuko waited.

"Told you," she said lightly as she came up beside him. "Nothing permanent."

Xuko Pagoi Xuko Pagoi
 
Xuko did has he was told, dutifully shepherding the Bothan along until they reached the bottom of the stairs.

And then he waited.

It didn't take long for Xian to rejoin them, having scared off their would-be pursuers. Xuko could see no injuries or signs of a fight on Xian's body, so he concluded that she had either been extremely efficient or had managed to find a way to avoid conflict altogether. Either option boded well, as the Zabrak sensed that the pressure would only increase from here.

Ahead of them, the main entrance to the Crucible loomed, about a hundred meters away. Xuko began walking again, prodding the Bothan along while appreciating how compliant they were. He half expected a late attempt at freedom but the three of them made it without incident to the first security checkpoint.

"Identification and business" said the guard through the vocoder on their full-face helmet. They garbed in professional-looking black armor and a short black cape with red highlights, and carried a blaster in a manner that indicated that were used to using it. Again, Xuko breathed out the tension he felt building up inside, curious what counted as identification on a world like this while knowing that he couldn't produce whatever documentation they'd ask for.

Xian Xiao Xian Xiao
 
Xian didn't slow as they approached the checkpoint, her pace steady and familiar in a way that suggested she had done this more than once. The weight of the Crucible didn't seem to press on her the way it did on others; if anything, she moved through it with a quiet certainty, like she understood where she stood within it.

When the guard spoke, she stepped forward without hesitation, placing herself just slightly ahead of Xuko and the Bothan, her posture straight but unforced.

"Xian Xiao," she said, her voice calm and even, carrying just enough authority to match the setting without pushing against it. There was no fumbling, no uncertainty, only recognition of a place she knew and the role she needed to play within it.

Her gaze flicked briefly to the Bothan, then back to the guard.

"He's with me," she added, indicating Xuko with a small, controlled motion. "My guest."

The words were simple, but deliberate, giving him standing here without overexplaining it.

"We're bringing this one in for questioning," Xian continued, her tone shifting just slightly, more formal now, grounded in purpose rather than conversation. "He was passing information tied to a shipment interference at the relief station. We need him secured before that becomes a larger problem."

She didn't rush the explanation, but she didn't linger either, presenting it cleanly, like something that didn't require debate.

"If you need clearance, you can verify my access," she added, meeting the guard's gaze evenly. "Otherwise, we're wasting time."

There was no arrogance in it.

Just quiet certainty that this was exactly where she was supposed to be.

Xuko Pagoi Xuko Pagoi
 
Xuko focused on remaining impassive- channeling enough presence in the conversation to be ready to back up a cover story should Xian try to bluff their way in- without drawing too much attention to himself. The Zabrak also realized in the moment that he hadn't uncovered Xian's connection to the Crucible, which made the exchange between her and the guard particularly telling.

Observation #1 was that Xian told the truth; and a fair amount of it, as well. Xuko had expected some sort of bluff or bribe to enter, but apparently the Crucible was the kind of place that demanded some level of honesty, if not other scruples.

Observation #2 was that Xian had access to the Crucible; and allegedly enough clearance that her name was conceivably enough to enter. Small wonder Xian was so composed and analytical; if she had any kind of frequent contact with a place like this, then she'd risen upwards in a place designed to weed out weakness.

Observation #3 was that the guard still ran her verification. Although apparently it was enough to then get Xuko and the Bothan in without further questions, it did reinforce to Xuko that the Crucible was a place of routine. Order. Protocol. Safeguards. Nobody got in- or out- without going through the proper procedures.

Observation #4 was that the further they walked past the checkpoint and towards the Crucible, the more Xuko's head felt like it was slowly being microwaved. "Tell me more about this place" he said, hoping that if he understood it more that perhaps he could tone down his instincts telling him how wrong this place felt.

Xian Xiao Xian Xiao
 
Xian didn't answer immediately as they passed the checkpoint, her pace steady as if the structure ahead didn't weigh on her the same way it did most people. The Crucible rose around them with that same controlled presence it always had, sharp lines, ordered movement, everything exactly where it was supposed to be, and it hadn't changed as much as people liked to say it had, at least not in the ways that mattered.

She glanced at him when he spoke, just briefly, noting the way his posture held a little tighter than before and the way his attention kept shifting as if measuring everything at once. She didn't comment on it directly, but she adjusted her answer with that in mind, letting her tone settle into something calm and grounded instead of clinical.

"It used to be worse," Xian said quietly, her voice low but steady. "When the Diarchy was intact, this place wasn't just for learning. It was for shaping people into something specific. Efficient. Controlled. Useful."

There was no bitterness in it, but it wasn't neutral either. It carried the weight of someone who understood what that meant without needing to explain it all.

"They called it an academy, but it functioned more like a filter. If you couldn't keep up, you didn't stay, and if you did… You learned quickly not to make the same mistake twice."

As they moved deeper inside, the air felt subtly tighter, not because anything had visibly changed, but because the structure itself demanded awareness in a way that didn't ease once you noticed it.

"It's changed," she continued after a moment, her gaze shifting briefly down one of the interior corridors before returning forward. "There's less Sith influence now, less pressure to become something you're not, but the structure didn't go anywhere. Protocol, observation, control… You don't build something like this and then just soften it."

She exhaled quietly, more out of familiarity than tension, then shifted her approach slightly to give him something easier to anchor to.

"Think of it like the Bastion Academy. That place trains people to lead. It teaches them how to think ahead, how to carry themselves, how to succeed inside a system that expects them to."

Her voice remained even as they passed another group of personnel, her movement aligning naturally with the place's rhythm rather than resisting it.

"This place does the same thing, just with higher stakes, and it expects you to keep up without needing to be told twice."

She let that settle for a second before adding, more quietly and without turning toward him, "It feels like a lot the first time, but that doesn't mean anything's wrong. It just means you haven't adjusted to it yet."

Her pace slowed slightly then, just enough that they were clearly moving together rather than him trailing behind, the shift subtle but intentional.

"Stay close," Xian said, her tone steady and certain. "And don't overthink it. This place runs on people following the pattern, and if you do that, you'll be fine."

Xuko Pagoi Xuko Pagoi
 
Xuko listened as closely as he could while keeping an eye on their surroundings. Although Xian claimed that the place had changed since the Diarchy fell, Xuko couldn't shake the feeling that little actually had. At the end of the day, the Crucible was a tool wielded by those in power to control others. Still, the way that Xian spoke about this place- as well as her calm, collected manner within it- spoke to a certain level of familiarity with the infamous structure. Xuko was not a betting Zabrak, but even so he'd be willing to wager that Xian had been shaped by this very institution.

Unfortunately, Xian's pep talk/history lesson had done little to tame the growing pressure Xuko felt inside his head. The sooner that they were outside of this place, the better. The prevailing feeling was a sense of wrong that implied that, for reasons unknown to him, he wasn't supposed to be here. The Zabrak forced himself to maintain an even, steady gait despite his internal desire to move more quickly. That didn't stop him from voicing two questions to Xian, though.

"Where are we taking the Bothan?" Xuko asked, "and who runs this place since the Diarchy fell?"

Xian Xiao Xian Xiao
 
Xian kept pace beside him as they moved deeper into the Crucible, the Bothan still compliant between them while the ordered rhythm of the institution continued around them uninterrupted. Personnel passed with purpose, conversations stayed quiet, and every corridor seemed designed to subtly remind people where they were and what was expected of them while inside these walls.

At his first question, her eyes shifted briefly toward the Bothan before returning ahead. "We're taking him to intake and holding," she explained, her tone calm and practical. "Not a prison cell. More like a controlled interview section. If the Red Ravens really are moving weapons or interfering with relief shipments, the Crucible will want records before anything else. Names, routes, connections. They document everything here."

As they turned down another corridor lined with dark metal and polished stone, she exhaled quietly before continuing. "Honestly, this is still probably the safest place on Bastion to keep him. Security here is layered enough that people disappear less easily than they do outside."

The second question took longer for her to answer, not because she lacked one, but because the truth of it was complicated. She glanced briefly upward toward one of the nearly invisible surveillance lenses integrated into the architecture before speaking again.

"The Diarchy still technically oversees most of it, or at least what's left of its civic structure does. The military influence pulled back after the collapse, and the overt Sith presence mostly vanished with it, but Bastion didn't suddenly stop needing institutions. The Crucible adapted instead of disappearing."

Another checkpoint came into view ahead of them, and Xian slowed slightly as they approached it, her attention remaining steady while she continued speaking.

"Places like the Bastion Academy are part of that same shift. The Academy trains the next generation of civic leadership; children of officials, officers, industrial families, diplomats. It teaches discipline, composure, public conduct, strategic thinking. It isn't openly political, but everyone understands what it is. People build alliances there before they're old enough to officially hold power, and reputations start early on Bastion."

There was no mockery in her voice when she spoke about it. If anything, there was a reluctant respect for the efficiency of the system.

"The Crucible works similarly, just further down the line. Higher stakes, higher pressure, less forgiving consequences if you fail. That's why it feels the way it does. Everything here is designed to keep people sharp, observant, useful."

Her gaze flicked toward him briefly then, catching the tension he still carried even while he tried to hide it beneath discipline and steady movement.

"You keep expecting this place to reveal itself as something monstrous," Xian said quietly, not accusing him, only acknowledging what she could infer from the way he watched everything around them. "Sometimes it was. I won't lie to you about that."

She looked forward again as they continued walking, her voice softening just slightly afterward.

"But most of the people here now are trying very hard to keep Bastion from collapsing into chaos, and places like this…" she glanced once toward the towering interior around them, "…are what they're using to hold the world together."

Xuko Pagoi Xuko Pagoi
 
Xuko mulled over what Xian had told him, feeling a twinge of unease at the mention of the oversight that the Crucible still employed. The thought of this place cataloging information about him rested uneasily in his mind. The only privacy one was entitled to here was whatever facade one could portray most convincingly.

He didn't have much context to compare the Bastion Academy with, but Xian's explanation made sense. If the Academy was a training grounds, the Crucible was the arena. And as she explained further, understanding clicked into place as to why Xuko felt the way he did inside the Crucible.

Sharp. Xuko had no problems with that. He trained religiously to better hone his skills. Observant. Xuko's brain naturally scanned the environment and other humanoids for threats, capabilities, and opportunities. Sometimes he wished that he could dial it back, such as in places like the Crucible where everything was potentially dangerous, but those same skills had served him well thus far.

But Useful? Xuko didn't like the idea of being used, especially by an institution like this. This place had a similar feel to the mystery that he and Xian were attempting to unravel in that he felt as if he was having to make choices without all of the information he needed to know if it was a good choice or not. The Crucible made him feel like a pawn in someone else's game, and Xuko didn't like it.

Even so, he couldn't deny that Xian's words rang true; he was waiting for the 'gotcha!" moment that would inevitably precede a very unpleasant situation. "This place is designed to crush and correct those who do not live up to its standards" he responded. "And since I am a stranger to this planet and this place, why should I not have my guard up?"

Something she'd said earlier popped back into his head; the Crucible collected information. "Besides this Bothan we are short on leads. Might this place have information that can help guide our next steps?" He didn't really like the idea of relying on the Crucible's systems to determine their next move, but he didn't see any better options.

Xian Xiao Xian Xiao
 
Xian listened without interrupting, her expression remaining thoughtful as they continued through the Crucible's layered corridors. The Bothan shuffled forward between them under careful watch while personnel moved around them with the same practiced efficiency as before, the institution continuing on as though none of this were unusual.

When Xuko spoke about the place crushing people who failed to meet its standards, her gaze shifted toward him briefly, not defensive, not dismissive, but considering.

"You're not wrong," she admitted after a moment. "Places like this do correct people. Sometimes gently. Sometimes not."

There was no point pretending otherwise. The Crucible had never been built to make people comfortable.

"But that's also why your guard being up doesn't make you stand out as much as you think it does," she continued, her tone calmer now, more explanatory than argumentative. "Most people here are guarded. Some are just better at hiding it."

A faint pause followed before she added more quietly, "And honestly, if you walked into a place like this completely trusting it, I'd probably think less of your instincts."

The corner of her mouth twitched slightly at that, subtle but genuine.

As they moved down another corridor, his second point settled more fully into her thoughts, and this time she slowed just a fraction, realization crossing her expression in a way that made it clear she was genuinely reconsidering their situation.

"…that's actually a good idea," Xian admitted.

Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully, her attention turning inward as she started fitting pieces together that she hadn't fully considered before.

"I was so focused on the shipments and the Bothan that I didn't think about using the Crucible's records directly." She glanced briefly toward one of the internal security terminals as they passed it. "If the Red Ravens are active on Bastion in any organized way, there's a chance they already exist somewhere in the system. Incident reports. Surveillance flags. Smuggling records. Known associates."

Her pace steadied again, but there was more direction behind it now, her thoughts moving ahead rapidly.

"The Crucible collects information because Bastion survives by tracking patterns," Xian said. "Groups don't move weapons, interfere with relief efforts, or start carving territory out of unstable districts without eventually creating a footprint."

She looked at him again then, more directly this time.

"So yes," she said. "Once we hand him over, we should look the Red Ravens up."

The fact that she said "we" instead of "I" came naturally enough that she didn't seem to notice it herself.

"You were right earlier, too," Xian added after a moment, quieter now. "About us not having enough information."

There was no reluctance in admitting it, only practicality.

"And I'd rather stop guessing before somebody gets hurt because we assumed wrong. Unless you have anything else you want to tell us?" Looking at the Bothan, she waited for his answer as they continued down the hall.

Xuko Pagoi Xuko Pagoi
 
Well, at least his distrust of the Crucible didn't read as mistrust of Xian for bringing them here. And while her words did address some of his concerns, they did little to dorwn out the feeling of wrong he felt. "Be that as it may, the sooner we are away from this place, the better." There would be time later to unpack and reflect on just what was so unnerving about this place, but for now they needed to focus on the mission.

Xian's pointed question to the Bothan reminded Xuko that the alien had most definitely heard everything they'd said- especially about the Crucible- so he decided to press the issue. "It is up to you whether or not this place treats you gently or not" he said, roughly paraphrasing one of Xian's earlier lines. "We can put in a good word for you when we hand you off, assuming you're..."- he used the pause while he searched for the right word to let the Bothan's mind fill in the blanks itself- "...cooperating."

Althougn Xuko had to admit that the Bothan had been remarkable compliant during their trip over here, the Zabrak also guessed that they knew more than they were letting on. Sure enough, as they approached the transfer point, a name escaped the alien's lips.

"Aryama. Aryama Rollutt!"

From his position walking behind the Bothan, Xuko raised an eyebrow in Xian's direction, hoping the local knew the significance of that name.

Xian Xiao Xian Xiao
 
Xian caught the look Xuko sent her the moment the Bothan blurted out the name, but she answered it with only a small shake of her head. Aryama Rollutt meant nothing to her personally, at least not at first recognition, though the way the Bothan had rushed to offer it up carried enough desperation to make it immediately important.

That alone told her the name mattered.

They slowed as they approached one of the internal processing stations near intake, where dark glass terminals and recessed holo interfaces had been built seamlessly into the wall beneath the careful watch of discreet security lenses. Personnel moved around them with quiet efficiency, never rushed, never idle, each person seeming to understand their role without needing to announce it aloud. The Crucible felt like that everywhere; a machine constantly in motion without ever appearing chaotic.

Xian turned her attention back toward the Bothan, studying him for a moment before speaking.

"If you keep giving us information," she said calmly, "then you won't go to a holding cell."

The Bothan looked at her sharply, uncertainty flickering visibly behind his eyes while he tried to determine whether that was reassurance, manipulation, or both.

"I cannot promise you walk free," Xian continued in the same even tone, "but cooperation matters here far more than panic does. The people who create problems for themselves are usually the ones who stop talking."

That seemed to settle into him enough that he remained quiet afterward instead of protesting again.

Xian stepped toward the nearest terminal and pressed her hand against the authorization plate, the interface illuminating softly beneath her touch before requesting credential verification. A few nearby personnel glanced over automatically as her clearance populated across the screen, recognition flickering briefly across their expressions before they returned to their own work without comment.

"Being the last apprentice to a Diarch allowed me certain privileges," she explained quietly to Xuko while accessing the internal archive system. There was no pride in her voice when she said it, only acknowledgment of reality. "Mostly research access and restricted records."

The system responded almost instantly once she entered the search parameters. Information began surfacing piece by piece across the holo display while she sorted through the overlapping reports, incident summaries, and intelligence flags attached to the Red Ravens.

The deeper she went, the more her expression tightened.

"They started less as an organization and more as scattered pirate crews, black market couriers, and surviving veterans trying to profit off collapsing territories during the fragmentation years," Xian explained while scanning the files. "Over time, the identity became larger than the individual groups using it."

More reports populated beneath the first wave.

Weapons trafficking.
Blockade running.
False cargo manifests.
Recovered military hardware.
Smuggling routes tied to insurgencies.

"Their ideology is decentralized," she continued thoughtfully, her eyes moving steadily across the records as pieces slowly connected together in her mind. "Most cells believe large governments inevitably become corrupt, oppressive, or militarized beyond control. Some of them see themselves as anti-authoritarian revolutionaries. Others are just opportunists hiding behind the same symbol."

She glanced briefly toward Xuko, then before returning her attention to the terminal.

"To some Outer Rim systems, they're useful criminals because they move supplies where governments cannot. To everyone else, they're increasingly treated like terrorists."

Another name appeared repeatedly throughout the reports.

Aryama Rollutt.

That immediately drew more of her focus.

"She's one of the few names consistently tied to the upper structure," Xian murmured while opening a deeper set of linked files. "Though even here nobody seems entirely certain whether she's an actual leader or simply someone important enough that the organization bends around her."

The profile that unfolded painted a far more complicated picture than Xian had expected.

Aryama had apparently begun as a logistics fixer and hyperlane specialist, someone capable of moving shipments through monitored or militarized sectors without attracting official attention. Over time, her reputation grew through successful weapons transfers, covert supply routes, and extraction operations in active war zones.

"She doesn't sound ideological," Xian admitted quietly while continuing to read. "No speeches. No manifestos. Most intelligence reports describe her as calm, patient, and extremely professional."

Then another cluster of linked incidents surfaced beneath her profile.

Bombings.
Pirate fleet resurgences.
Anti-government uprisings.
Destabilization campaigns in vulnerable frontier sectors.

The contradiction sat uneasily beside the earlier reports.

"She may not enjoy violence," Xian said after a moment, "but she enables an enormous amount of it."

Beside them, the Bothan had gone significantly quieter than before, clearly realizing he had now led them somewhere far larger than a stolen shipment investigation.

Xian's gaze flicked toward him briefly before returning to the glowing screen.

"If Aryama Rollutt is operating anywhere near Bastion," she said more quietly now, "then this stopped being a simple theft operation long before we found those crates."

Xuko Pagoi Xuko Pagoi
 
Xuko wasn't certain what a Diarch was, but it at least confirmed his suspicion that Xian had spent time inside the Crucible. And although scanning data for important information didn't come as naturally to Xuko as it might've to Xian, he retained enough to get the gist; where Aryama Rollutt went, bloodshed and violence followed.

Xuko's brow furrowed as he pondered the possibilities. From the looks of things, Amyama was extremely proficient in smuggling the very kinds of things that had shown up by accident at the food giveaway. It was an uncharacteristic mistake from seemingly the most accomplished arms dealer in the sector.

Unless it wasn't a mistake...

A cold shiver ran down Xuko's back as he considered Aryama's work in the context of what little he'd learned about the planet called Bastion. Anti-government campaigns. Destabilization of authority. Fracturing of trust in institutions that led to power vacuums that the Red Ravens- or their proxies- were only too happy to fill with their own brand of law and justice.

What better way to destabilize relief efforts than by enabling a massacre at a food giveaway?

Xuko was already turning towards the Bothan as his mind filled in the blanks, determined to wring the whole plan from them if needed. He had his guess: members of the Red Ravens, disguised as hungry refugees, would wait patiently in line until the last few crates were breached; unobserved and only lightly armed so as to not draw suspicion from the few security forces nearby. Then, they would lead a charge on the weapons crates, taking full advantage of the crown of desperate people pressing in to turn their incredibly deadly arsenal on the very people they'd just impersonated.

Word of the massacre would spread from the survivors and the news agencies, casting doubt on the legitimacy and safety of future off-planet relief events. Heightened security would be required, further straining relief efforts and heightening costs, all while the people suffered. In that environment, those who paid tribute to, or joined the ranks of, the Red Ravens would find their needs met by the cartel; at least as long as they stayed useful to the Red Ravens...

All of this flashed through Xuko's mind in the time it took for him to turn, slam the Bothan's back into the wall, and bodily lift him a couple inches off of the ground by grabbing fistfuls of tunic and lifting.

"The whole plan" Xuko snarled, his eyes blazing. "Speak."

Xian Xiao Xian Xiao
 
The shift in Xuko happened so fast that several nearby personnel instinctively looked up from their terminals when the Bothan hit the wall hard enough to rattle the display panels. Xian didn't panic or move to intervene; she simply stepped closer, watching with steady focus as Xuko hauled the Bothan partially off the floor. Telvaren's panic was immediate and unfiltered, real fear, not the calculated kind used by people who still believed they had leverage.

And that, more than the violence itself, told her something important.

Xuko's mind was already racing ahead, assembling the pieces with brutal efficiency: the shipment, the relief lines, the hidden weapons, the timing. Once the possibility existed, the rest of the pattern snapped together with unsettling ease. Too clean. Too convenient. Too much like a plan designed to be discovered only when it was already too late.

That was what worried her, not Xuko's grip on the Bothan, but the shape of the truth forming behind it. Fear was not proof. Panic was not certain. And right now, they needed clarity more than they needed restraint.

Her attention was fixed fully on the Bothan. "What is your name?"

He swallowed hard, voice tightening. "Telvaren. Telvaren Sorn."

She nodded once, committing it to memory. "Telvaren," she said, her tone calm enough to cut through the chaos around them, "if there was a larger operation planned here, now would be an excellent time to explain exactly how much you actually know."

"I don't know everything!" he blurted. "I swear it, I don't! I wasn't part of planning anything like that!"

Xian watched him closely, breathing, eye movement, the instinctive flinches people couldn't control once fear truly took hold. He was terrified, but not rehearsed. Not lying with intention. Just drowning in the consequences of something he only half understood.

"What was your role?"

"I verified shipments," he said shakily. "Cargo arrivals, routing confirmations, making sure containers got where they were supposed to go without customs interference." His eyes darted toward Xuko's hand, still pinning him to the wall. "I wasn't in leadership. I never met Aryama. I passed confirmations to my contact and got paid."

"What contact?"

"I don't know a real name," he said quickly. "Nobody used real names. I only knew him as Kreel."

That matched everything she'd read about the Red Ravens, cells separated by design, information compartmentalized until no one person could betray the whole.

"What exactly were you verifying?"

"The shipment you found," Telvaren admitted. "I was supposed to confirm the crates arrived intact, then pass the location and timing to Kreel so the next team could move."

The next team. Xian felt the weight of those words settle like a stone in her chest.

"Move them where?"

"I don't know!" he insisted, voice cracking. "I swear I don't! They never told me beyond my part. That's how the Ravens work. Small pieces. Separate cells. Nobody gets the whole picture unless they absolutely need it."

She believed him. Which was almost worse. Her gaze lifted toward Xuko, her voice quieter now but carrying the gravity of the realization forming between them.

"If he's telling the truth, then somebody else was supposed to retrieve those weapons after he verified the drop."

The implications unfolded with cold precision.

"And if those crates were intentionally placed near relief supplies…" Her eyes narrowed, the logic settling into place with grim certainty. "Then your theory about destabilizing the aid efforts isn't paranoia."

The picture sharpened in her mind: crowded civilians, minimal security, hidden weapons waiting for the right hands, the right moment, the right spark. A massacre engineered to look like chaos instead of design.

Telvaren looked between them helplessly, still pinned against the wall, his voice breaking under the weight of what he'd stumbled into.

"I didn't know about any massacre," he insisted. "I swear it. I was just supposed to confirm the shipment and pass it along."

Xian didn't look away from him. She didn't need to. She already understood exactly how dangerous his small piece of the puzzle truly was.

Xuko Pagoi Xuko Pagoi
 
Resisting the urge to headbutt Telvaren- a maneuver that would certainly add a little more... color... to the floor of the Crucible- Xuko settled for tossing the Bothan to the floor and promptly forgetting about them. Xian's questions, precise as a scalpel, had laid bare a brutal plot. That he and Xian had intercepted one of the links in the plan might have bought time, but perhaps not enough. How long before the Red Ravens dispatched another similarly pathetic informant to gather what Telvaren had failed to?

Worse, their foray to the Crucible, while the best option in the moment, had drawn Xuko away from the very people and products he was supposed to be protecting. "I must go." Just as quickly as he'd come to the decision to aggressively interrogate Telvaren, Xuko turned sharply and began striding back towards the entrance to the Crucible. He set a determined pace, forcing himself not to run; he would need all his energy for a fight, assuming he returned in time. And although he'd welcome Xian's help, he made no assumptions as to whether or not she would join him in this step.

That choice would be hers to make.

Xian Xiao Xian Xiao
 

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