Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private Catch Me Now I'm Falling


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R I N G O -V I N D A

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Pisti tapped on the glass bottle that held a single eye submerged in liquid. "'S not real is it?" She shot a wide-eyed glance at the vendor, a fat Besalisk with a bellowing laugh. "Ya doubt my wares missy?" She stood up straight and folded her arms. "Well," She stuck up a finger. "Firstly, a Krayt Dragon 's got ta have larger eyes, don't it?" A second finger came up. "Second, how come you're selling it? There ain't no planet with Krayt's anywhere near." A third finger rose. "Finally, who even wants to buy it?" She sniffed. "'Tis an eye. That's gross."

The Besalisk leaned back in his stall, the whole thing creaking under the weight of the massive man. He folded his lower two arms in imitation of her. With his upper right, he began stroking his stubbled chin. With the left, he began counting. "It's only the young Krayt. I'm outta big eyes." A second sausage-like finger joined the first. "They're preserved. I get 'em from the space traders down the hyperspace lanes." A third finger, and the Besalisk chuckled - a low rumble that reverberated through his stall. "It's a delicacy on Ballo Minor. But I just sell them to whoever's buying." He bowed forward over his counter, now hanging mere inches from her doubtful face. Pisti - confronted by three chins and a greasy breath - didn't move an inch. "Bah! You'd eat that?!" she made a face. "No, no, and no." She shook her head, lush orange-red hair dancing around her cloaked frame. "Disgusting! I can't believe anyone's interested in those."

The Besalisk's snake-like eyes narrowed. "So you're buying?" Credits clinked. "I'm buying."

With a satisfied hum and a jar full of jelly with a single eye that reminded her of a raisin, Pisti Caleida strolled down the market square of Ringo Vinda's space station. The floors vibrated each time the repulsors of the huge structure flickered on to keep the huge ring in its proper orbit. The rumble that came with it had something soothing to it. As if the structure were alive, doing its very best to keep you safe and sound. She quite liked it here, even though her stay was short. Ringo Vinda was no man's land. Lying between the factions of the Mandalorian Empire and the Imperial Confederation, with a hyperspace route that connected them both all the way to the Galactic Alliance. It'd become a hub of trade, travel, and tourism more so than it had already been.

Consequently, that meant she had no jurisdiction here either. A blessing - she'd had to warn people on a daily basis that it was something she couldn't be trusted with. It was almost a shame that her starfighter's repairs were complete. She'd already received the notification to come get it - refueled and all. At least she'd leave with a souvenir.

She held the jar up to study its contents once more. Krayt Dragon huh?.. It could've been a Bantha's eye for all she knew. It was possible that he'd scammed her. But then again, he'd let her take the jar too. If anything, it'd make for a nice vase back in her quarters at the Temple. An intrusive thought shot through her. What did it even smell like? The jelly reminded her of mucus - it certainly wouldn't be pleasant now would it?

Pisti was halfway into opening the jar when a shudder moved through the station. Not the hourly kind that the repulsors caused. Something else. She scanned the crowd - only the locals had seemed to notice. That was curious. Some even stopped their haggling. Pisti's brow furrowed. It was probably nothing... Right?

Valery Noble Valery Noble
 



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Outfit: Smuggler Outfit
Weapons: Blasters

Valery hadn't planned on blending in with crowds when she put on the worn leather holster and travel-stained trousers that morning, but the look worked. Smuggler, maybe. Spacer passing through. Someone who belonged. No one gave her a second glance as she moved through the humming arteries of the Ringo Vinda space station.

The place always buzzed. Traders, tourists, transient locals with nowhere better to be — and tucked among them, whispers. A rumor here, a warning there. Too many vanished shipments. Too much silence from sectors near the grav-lift towers. Someone was planning something. Something big.

Valery had tracked a name, a dead drop, and a flickering communication through three rerouted terminals and still had nothing solid. Just instincts and a weight in her chest that hadn't gone away since she arrived. Terrorism wasn't rare in the Galaxy. But targeting the ring itself? Bringing it down? It would be catastrophic. Thousands dead. Infrastructure crippled. A blow not just to stability — but to hope.

She paused beside a vendor stand — a grimy rack of oxidized tools and junk parts — and pretended to inspect a hydrospanner while she listened in on the crowd. A half-smile tugged at her lips when she overheard a woman arguing about jarred monster eyes with a four-armed Besalisk.

Some things never changed.

Then the floor trembled. Not the usual pulse of the repulsors. Not the living rhythm of the station. This was sharper. Wrong. The kind of vibration that didn't come from life support systems, but det-charges and structural shifts. Her hand moved instantly to the grip of her blaster, the act smooth, practiced — the smuggler outfit forgotten.

A dull thud reverberated up through the soles of her boots. Then screams. A burst of smoke curled out from the corridor to her left — near the service hangars. A power conduit sparked violently overhead, showering a passerby with molten slag. The air changed, filled with fear, confusion, people scrambling for direction.


"Ah chit..."

Valery stepped forward into the chaos, her voice low, steel behind it.

"Time to move."






 
R I N G O -V I N D A

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With bewilderment, Pisti's eyes darted over the many people in the hall. They looked back, just as confused. Equally tense. Something in her stomach lurched, and she tightened her grip on the glass jar. She'd felt that before when she'd leapt too high up and came back down - a tingling as if her stomach were sinking. Were the gravity generators failing?

Her gaze shot up to the ceiling. The lights and holographic imagery were still working - it couldn't be power failure. Besides, the grav-generators had emergency batteries for sure. Her mind worked fast, but there were others who came to the same set of realizations. It was as if the hall collectively held its breath.

Then, when the first dark smoke seeped into the room and the screams of steel at its limit came rushing at them, did the hall explode. People cried out, the mass began moving in all directions, and a tremor of terror echoed through the Force. She made an attempt to push herself through the crowd in the direction they were running from, but it was to no avail. Dread filled her as it filled the Force, strengthened more and more by the chaos around her. She caught a glimpse of somebody caught in a shower of sparks. On another side, somebody was buried beneath a collapsing stand. "Oh by the light!" She called out in sheer frustration.

What could one Jedi do?

She needed space. Space to think - think clearly.

Pisti leapt up, spun her body mid-air, and found a landing spot on the slanted roof of a vendor's stall. Only then did she realize the gargantuan scope of her self-imposed assignment. The hall was beyond huge.

Channeling the Force as best she could - their relationship was one of many misunderstandings - Pisti focused on what she knew best. Physical enhancement. "Hello hello!" She roared, her voice amplified beyond what should have been feasible. "I am Jedi Knight Caleida!" With her free hand, she reached for and ignited a blue-bladed lightsaber in one smooth motion. She straightened her arm to the side, using it to signal toward what she thought was the western corridor. "Please remain calm and move toward the exits on the western-side. Your lives are not in danger!" The Jedi Code did not prohibit lying and she would make shameless use of that. "The situation will be under control soon!" Oh, how she hoped she was going to be right about that....

Valery Noble Valery Noble
 



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Outfit: Smuggler Outfit
Weapons: Blasters

Valery pushed forward through the panic, boots hammering against the tremoring durasteel floor. Her blaster was drawn but held low — the kind of posture that kept people from panicking more, but made it clear she wasn't just another frightened spacer caught in the chaos. She scanned the corridor for the source, for damage, for threats.

And then she heard the voice.

Amplified with the Force and cutting clean through the noise like a vibroblade. Valery's head snapped up toward the stall rooftops — and there she was. A woman standing tall, a saber lit blue in her hand, hair catching the station's flickering light like a signal flare. She was young, commanding, and very much not just another traveler caught in the wrong place.

Another Jedi? Valery's eyes narrowed slightly, the flicker of surprise quickly swallowed by calculation. She holstered her blaster in one fluid motion and leapt — a short, swift burst from the Force carrying her up onto a vendor canopy a few meters away from the other woman. Her coat flared around her boots as she landed in a low crouch before standing to her full height.

"Hey there!" she called out over the chaos, projecting her voice through the Force just enough to cut the distance. Her amber eyes locked with the Knight's, her smuggler's coat flaring around her belt — and the unmistakable hilt of a lightsaber now visible at her side.

"I'm Jedi too." She took a step forward, close enough now that they didn't have to yell. The urgency in her voice was calm but focused. "I've been tracking whispers — something about targeting the station's infrastructure. This wasn't random." Her gaze swept the corridor again, noting the smoke, the direction of the stampede. Then she looked back to Pisti, steady.

"We need to work together. Before it's too late."






 
D E N O N

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Pisti's head jerked toward the woman's voice. When had she joined her up here? She certainly hadn't paid attention to it. "You?" She cocked her head to the side, then looked the newcomer up and down. "Wearing that?" Waiting perhaps a breath too long after the woman finished, Pisti - wide-eyed - continued. "I mean, you can wear what you want! It's just- I don't think I've met any Jedi with that much, well-" She made a gesture to her own chest. "wearing outfits like that, you know?" She nodded in contemplation. "Daring. Very daring."

Eyes green like spring met fiery orange. This person claimed to be a Jedi. Believing her on her bright orange eyes was a little too easy, but the Force felt as if it were dancing a jig, so Pisti guessed that the woman was telling the truth. "Okay! Infrastructure. Got it." She'd only caught a few words, but enough to cover the essence of the other woman's message. "I've sent the- well, you've heard that. Probably." She glanced at the western corridors. The bulk of the people had followed her directions, although there were still too many with their own plan. "S'pose they'll mess with the grav-generators? Easiest way to mess up the infrastructure." It wouldn't make sense, not at first. But having the gravity generators work overtime on an already damaged foundation would certainly cause some collapse. Of course, there were other methods too. "Bah, there must be a method to this madness. Always is." She was an expert at that. "Think it's just this section? 'Cause I'd be cuttin' it off." She clipped her lightsaber back to her belt, then took the jar under her arm again. "Kay, all dastardly plans probably require section control! I'll head there, you?" Pisti glanced over her shoulder, awaiting a response as she prepared to leap off. She was excited for the other Jedi to tag along. However, she'd already been more overbearing in a couple of sentences than what was expected in an entire Jedi's lifetime. It would not come as a surprise as the other Jedi would decide to investigate elsewhere first. That made her think. "You have a comlink or somethin'? Any way we can reach each other?"

Valery Noble Valery Noble
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Outfit: Smuggler Outfit
Weapons: Blasters

Valery blinked.

Then smirked.

"Well," she said, her voice pitched just above the chaos, "If you've got boobs, might as well let them work for you. Helps with undercover work. And negotiations. And distracting the occasional overconfident gangster."

She winked, as if to prove she wasn't entirely kidding.

With a smooth motion, she tapped her comm and pulled up her codes, flicking her wrist to display the signal as she stepped closer across the canopy. "Valery Noble. Jedi Master. Here — take my frequency. If you find something, call it in. If I run into something first, you'll hear from me."

There was a determination beneath the humor now, her gaze sharpening as she scanned the corridor below again. Civilians were still moving, some carried by the stampede, others breaking off to assist the wounded. Valery took it all in like a battlefield strategist — tracking flow, chaos, threat.


"I'll move towards the generators."
Valery reached for the hilt at her side, not igniting it — just a silent check. Then she looked back at Pisti with a smirk, one eyebrow raised.

"Try not to blow anything up before I get there."

And with a flick of her hair, she dropped smoothly from the stall, disappearing into the crowd like she'd been born in it. A Jedi, hidden in plain sight — sharp eyes, quick hands, and a frequency set to stay in touch.

Let the hunt begin.







 
R I N G O -V I N D A

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Pisti cocked her head to the side. Valery Noble. She knew that name. Jedi Master. That was always bad, wasn't it? She'd not found a single Jedi Master who had ever let her go about her business. Not without prying and forceful advice. Then it dawned on her.

The Valery Noble. Jedi Grandmaster. The one born in a bygone era and, in this day age, peacekeeper and veteran of more battles than one could possibly count. The legends practically wrote themselves.

And that was the woman whose boobs she had made a comment on.

Pisti's mouth worked, but no sound came out. She just stood there, paralyzed and eyes bulging, as Valery stepped closer to share her frequency. She finally got a sound out after what felt like an uncomfortably long silence. A squeak. That was the best she could muster. Oh how she wanted to crawl away into a corner! Maybe come out after a month. Or three. Or not at all.

She lifted a slightly shaking hand to share her own frequency, all the while recording Valery's at the pace of a blind bantha. "I'm uhh- Pisti." She tried to cover her tracks with a sheepish smile. "Jedi Knight. Oh! And-" She lifted the glass jar for Valery to see. "Collector of trinkets." Pisti decided not to mention that she counted the Grandmaster's frequency among those too.

Her fellow Jedi had better focus. Pisti could only bring herself to nod with a blank stare as Valery's glanced through the hall and decided what to investigate. It was impressive, seeing how quick the experienced woman worked.

Wait- was she smirking at her? Again?! Pisti's eyebrows climbed all the way up as the Grandmaster made the comment. She stared with mouth agape as Valery made her exit with a flick of her long hair.

Pisti - forgetting herself once again - immediately ran to the edge. "Was that 'cause of what I said?!" She shouted, indignantly. "I didn't mean ta imply it was a bad idea! Honestly, they're great!" She winced at her own comment. That was the line. She'd just leapt over it like a professional long jumper again.

Making the executive decision not to embarrass herself any further in the eyes of the Jedi's crème de la crème, she spun on her heel and moved the other way. She'd passed by the section control center a few times. Twice because she'd gotten lost. Once because she'd wanted the service worker's earring. By now, Pisti knew exactly where to find it.

Channeling the Force through her body, Pisti leapt from stall roof to stall roof, making way faster than she could've through the maze of walkways below. Still, it took time before she arrived at the right set of corridors. And in that time, the screaking sounds of steel pushed to their limits only grew louder.

Jumping down, she was immediately met by a Duros in a dull brown pilot suit. He raised an arm to stop her. "This area is off limits right now." Pisti nodded earnestly. "I can imagine! But that's why I'm here." The Duros shook his head and stepped closer. "Everything is under control. We don't need more people involved in this mess. Please-" He pointed to the far side. The general direction she'd sent the running masses toward. "Move along." Her eyes narrowed. The Force was a rhythm to her. A beat that got your legs moving and hips swaying in the most impossible dances. And this Duros - however hard he was trying - was dancing way out of line.

Her eyes narrowed. "Why are you lyin' to me?" She bluffed. The Duros cursed and drew his blaster pistol. "I said. Move al-" In a flash of blue, the ignited lightsaber was in her free hand and the gun had parted ways with its barrel. "Aha." The Duros staggered back with a harsh cry. Pisti was already moving past him, arm raised to speak into her comlink.

"Val!" She shook her head. "Uh- Grandmaster! Come in please! There was some armed guy blockin' my path toward section control. I think they gotta be there already!" She quickened her pace as the fluttering feelings of panic softly began to gather in her stomach.

Valery Noble Valery Noble

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Outfit: Smuggler Outfit
Weapons: Blasters

Valery heard it — the squeak. She smirked as she slipped into the flow of the crowd, like a fish in water, moving with practiced grace through a tide of bodies. It wasn't the first time someone had recognized her after making an offhand comment. Probably wouldn't be the last. But rarely did they recover with quite so much awkward charm.

And then came the yell.


"I didn't mean ta imply it was a bad idea! Honestly, they're great!"

The corner of Valery's mouth curved into a grin she didn't bother hiding. Without breaking stride, she tapped her commlink. It crackled to life a breath later in Pisti's ear.

"I know." Valery's voice purred through the static, followed by a warm, unmistakable chuckle.
"You're cute when you're flustered." Her boots barely touched the ground as she vaulted over a toppled supply crate, rounding a corner without slowing. The main corridor had thinned out — no civilians, no hostiles. Just the soft buzz of damaged lights and distant echoes of strain in the station's hull. All clear on her side... for now.

Then the call came through. Pisti's voice, urgent, a little shaky.


"Uh- Grandmaster! Come in please! There was some armed guy blockin' my path toward section control. I think they gotta be there already!"

Valery skidded to a stop, her hair swaying with the momentum as she lifted her wrist to respond. Her tone shifted — still light, but with that steel edge of experience underneath.

<Copy that, Pisti. You're doing great.> She drew in a sharp breath, scanning ahead with the Force. No immediate threats on her path, but something about the report itched at her instincts.

<Keep pushing forward unless you feel it's off — trust your gut. I'm en route to meet up with you.> Her hand dropped. Then her posture lowered just a hair, her legs coiling with tension.

And Valery moved. She was fast — unnaturally fast. A speed Jedi could only harness with the Force augmenting every muscle in their body. A blur of motion through the station's interior as she surged toward her fellow Knight, ponytail trailing behind her as it snapped thruogh the air.

And somewhere over the comms, just faintly,
<Try not to get killed before I get there. You still owe me a better compliment.> A laugh. Then silence — and the thrum of a lightsaber ready at her side.

This was going to get tense.







 
R I N G O -V I N D A

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Her footsteps echoed through the corridor as she ran. Her eyes darted left and right at each crossing, fiery mane of orange-red hair swinging from side to side. The footsteps came accompanied by the soft hum of her cyan blade. She wouldn't let them catch her off guard - not while she was already so distracted.

Because had the grandmaster really called her cute? Cute - after she'd commented on the woman's chest a second time because sure, one stupid mistake hadn't been enough? What even were the right customs here? Surely there had to be something about respecting your teachers in the Jedi behavioral code. A rebuke would've made sense or so she thought. This left her just as confounded as any lectures on the mysticisms of the Force did.

With a short three-tone tune, her comlink came alive. Pisti stopped and held it up, placing her back against the wall to guard her blind spot.

It was affirmation from Valery - Pisti was quick to respond. < You really think so?! > She beamed a proud smile. <Got it, I'll have 'em busted in no time!> She launched off again, bolting through the corridors with renewed vigor. She barely caught the final faint lines over the coms. She wouldn't have - had they not been what they were.

<Grandmaster!> She squeaked, face redder than her hair. <Please forget what I said about your figure! I don't want to lose Knighthood over your chest!> She pleaded. <Or well- what I said about your boobs.> That would be something to behold. Pisti Caleida, Jedi Knight. Reprimanded and stripped of her rank. Why? Because she just couldn't keep her mouth shut.

<I realize that it's- oh? Hold on.> Pisti slowed and extinguished her blade. She'd been talking almost continuously into the comlink, but hadn't lost her awareness. She always did better when moving. Meditating, sitting still in the temple, that wasn't really for her. She would never have noticed those beings up ahead in the Force had she been sitting still.

She had the element of surprise. "He~llo~o." And now not anymore. Two figures rounded the corner - another Duros and a human. Both male, both wearing the same dull pilot suits. "Who kriffing are you?!" One, the human, called out to her. "Durgo wasn't to let anyone through. How'd you get past him? The other called. Pisti shrugged casually and raised her lightsaber. "Well ya don't just get these with the Temple tour. Gotta earn 'em ya know?"

"You-" "Fool! Blast her!" Their hands shot to their blaster pistols. In less than a heartbeat, red blaster bolts streaked past her.

Pisti hadn't stopped moving. She danced from left to right and ever forward. Even with their weapons trained on her, the Devaronian woman with the jar was just too elusive a target to hit.

Until the final few meters, when the blade came alive again. Pisti went low, sliding with support from the Force and her saber to guard. She was on her feet just as quickly, whirling a fan of blue light to deflect the blaster bolts and point-blank. The Duros dropped immediately - taken out by his own reflected volley. The human received a strengthened kick to the knee, toppling with a cry of pain. Pisti dropped in tandem, both bodies hitting the ground. Her seated, him fallen over. In a swift motion, she slammed the jar down on his chest. He struggled, but she kept him pressed down.

"Alrighty-" The blue-blade retracted, but she held on to the hilt. "Now that I've got my eye on you," she tapped on the jar's lid. "I really gotta ask- Who are you guys? And don't say security, I've met 'em and they don't just start blastin' at me outta nowhere."

She would wait for an answer - or until Valery arrived. Whichever came first.

Valery Noble Valery Noble

-
 



HAIuSyi.png


Outfit: Smuggler Outfit
Weapons: Blasters

The corridor ahead blurred around the edges as Valery moved — her steps fueled by the Force, her silhouette ghosting through the shadows like smoke. She was all sharp purpose and steady breath… until the comlink crackled again.

Valery nearly stumbled. A snort of laughter escaped her before she could stop it, low and thoroughly amused. She slowed just enough to flick the commlink to her lips, voice laced with mirth as it slid back into Pisti's ear.

<"Relax, Pisti. You're not getting demoted for flustered compliments."> A pause. Then, more cheekily: <"Besides, if we kicked out every Jedi who noticed, the Temple halls would be very quiet."> The chuckle that followed was unmistakably pleased — warm, smooth, and just shy of teasing cruelty.

<"But I am making a list,"> Valery added with wicked delight. <"And you're definitely in the top five.">

Another twist through a damaged maintenance hatch, and then she was there — rounding the corner at speed just in time to see the last moments of Pisti's takedown. A swirl of motion. A kick. The slam of a jar to a chest.

Valery skidded to a stop, hair catching the air behind her, one hand ready on her lightsaber but unused. She took in the sight: the Duros unconscious, the human pinned by a slightly dented jar, and Pisti looking like she'd just landed the finale of a dance number. Hair wild. Blade still faintly humming. Voice chipper.

Valery arched a brow.

"Well," she drawled, stepping over a scorch mark and approaching, "Someone's been having fun." She came to stand just beside Pisti, amber eyes dropping to the pinned human.

"You heard her," Valery said, tone sharp now. "Who are you working for?" The man squirmed, looking between the two Jedi. Something in the way Valery looked at him already made it clear she knew the answer.

But would he reveal it?






 
R I N G O -V I N D A

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The sound of another's arrival drew Pisti's green eyes. The wary look made place for relaxation. Then shame. Top five. That was embarrassingly high, considering the number of Jedi that the Grandmaster likely knew. "Oh we're 'avin a blast!" Pisti sounded chipper, despite her flustered looks. "Ain't that right?" She turned toward her captive. The man glared back at her, still clutching his burn-marked knee. Pisti blinked. No answer? Not even a curse?

With commanding tone, Valery demanded the answer to Pisti's first question. The only question that mattered. Pisti's eyes darted between the two of them. That steel look of quiet concern, had Valery realized something she didn't?

Then, the station rumbled. A low vibration that made the lights flicker. Pisti sought out the grandmaster's gaze again. Was there need to worry? The lighting flickered once more. Then shot to red. Emergency lights.

Then she saw it. The man beneath her jar was smiling. When he noticed her look, he let out a slow laugh. "Who we were doesn't matter anymore!" the man bellowed. "Not to you! Not to anyone in this blasted ring!" Wild, empty eyes fixed on her. "There's nothing you can do now to stop it!" Pisti's eyebrows knitted. "Whaddya mean?" The man laid back to stare at the ceiling. "Oh we've given them a sign now- those wretched corporations!" He spat. "Oi! What. Did. You. Do." Pisti spelled out. "We've taken it from them." He whispered. "Freed the orbit..."

Pisti's head snapped to Valery. "You think they- there's no way the-" Abruptly, Pisti rose, sprinting down to the far end of the hall with the jar under her arm. She'd left the guy - Pisti wasn't even sure if he would notice.

She slowed again at the far wall. A robust window gave view of the gas giant in the ring's center. She pressed her cheek against the window. Then gasped.

"Uhm... Master Val?" Pisti gaped. "I've got a bad feeling about this." Their section, a sizeable few kilometers of the ring, was slowly coming apart from the rest of the station.

Valery Noble Valery Noble
 



HAIuSyi.png


Outfit: Smuggler Outfit
Weapons: Blasters

Valery didn't move right away.

She just stared down at the man grinning up at them, that smug, wild look of someone who had nothing left to lose — and planned to take as many people with him as he could. Her expression didn't change. No gasp, no alarm. Just a tightening at the corners of her eyes as the station began to rumble, and the lights sputtered to red.

Then, without a word, she kicked.

A clean, precise strike to the man's temple — fast enough that the jar barely shifted on his chest as his head snapped sideways and he slumped unconscious. Valery exhaled, shaking her boot once as if dusting off the moment.

"Talking time's over." She was already moving, long hair sweeping behind her in a rush as she followed Pisti's voice down the corridor. It wasn't far, but her pace was quick, purposeful — and when she reached the window, the shift in her stance told the rest.

Not fear or surprise, but urgency. Valery's eyes narrowed as she watched the section of the ring slowly drift, sheared from its supports — spiraling toward the storm-choked gravity well of the gas giant below.

"Damn it."

Her hand braced against the window for a beat, the vibration of the failing station humming against her palm. She could feel it — the tug of gravity below and the weakening of the stabilizers above.

"We're caught in the planet's pull," she said, voice tight. "That last blast severed key struts — we're drifting. We need to restore power to emergency tractor beams, or...." Her gaze flicked to Pisti, sharp and composed despite the situation. "Find the nearest power access station. I'll head to the stabilizer core and try to reroute emergency power from the reactor."

She looked back one last time through the window, then to the corridor ahead.

"No one's dying today."

And with that, she ran — focused and fast. There was no more time for games. The station was falling, and they were going to
catch it.





 
R I N G O -V I N D A

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Pisti looked toward the grandmaster, tension tightening her chest. Her mind raced, but no solution came. Getting the people to safety was her first instinct. But there were no escape pods or transports in this section. Not that she knew off. Kraud would've know. Pisti thought. Kraud always knew what to do. Always staying calm, always staying focused. Then there was the grandmaster - supposedly the wisest and most experienced of them all. She'd once dreamed of standing where Valery stood. Of becoming the Order's Grandmaster. Now, Pisti felt relief that the other woman, not her, had to bear that weight.

Fear pricked her skin her when the grandmaster cursed and spoke with tightness in her voice. Valery's composure slipped, just for a heartbeat, but Pisti noticed. The damage was done. "Right." She'd lost her bright spark. "Power access station. Gotcha." There was no time to argue. Pisti turned, looking for anything that resembled a terminal. The corridor was empty. The section control, where she'd been heading, likely had an access station.

Valery left with a promise. No one would die today. No one.

Pisti watcher Valery go. "Be careful out there Gran! And don't'cha worry 'bout me!" Then she turned and ran. The section access station couldn't be far.

Valery Noble Valery Noble
 
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HAIuSyi.png


Outfit: Smuggler Outfit
Weapons: Blasters

Valery heard Pisti's voice echo behind her as she ran, and despite everything, it pulled a faint smile to her lips. A breath of warmth in a place rapidly losing all of its heat. She didn't look back, but she trusted the younger woman. More than trusted her. Pisti had spark, grit, and fire when it counted. She'd seen it already. And she'd bet her life on it now.

"You too, Pisti," Valery muttered under her breath as she reached the emergency stairwell. Her hand gripped the rail, boots hammering against the metal steps as she descended two levels in a blur. The deeper into the station she went, the hotter it got,. Power lines strained, steam hissed from ruptured vents, and warning klaxons howled everywhere.

The stabilizer core was close.

She turned the last corner at a sprint, then stopped cold.

Three of them. Armed. Two crouched behind overturned crates, makeshift barricade lit by flickering panels. The third stood directly in front of the stabilizer control room, eyes wide at the sight of her, then narrowing into something colder. Valery didn't hesitate. Her lightsaber flashed to life, violet and fierce.

A bolt screamed toward her. She caught it mid-air with her blade, redirecting it into the wall with a hiss of melting durasteel. Then she ducked back into cover, tapping her comm with one hand.

"Pisti," she said, voice low and even despite the sound of more blaster fire erupting around her. "Change of plan. I've got hostiles guarding the stabilizer room. I'll handle it, but it means I won't be fast."

Another shot sparked past her cheek. She exhaled.

"You get those tractor systems online. Whatever it takes."

A pause.

"I trust you."





 

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